Larksong nodded and hurried off, pausing at the apprentices’ den to collect Finpaw.

Alderheart left Bramblestar to talk with his Clanmates and returned to the medicine cats’ den. Graystripe, Millie, Blossomfall, and Bumblestripe were already there. Millie was crouching beside her daughter, gently licking her ears, while the rest of the family clustered around them.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Graystripe murmured to Alderheart. “She was always so strong, so brave . . .”

“I’m surprised she weakened so quickly,” Alderheart responded. “I think she must have been hiding how bad she felt.”

She hasn’t been eating enough, he added to himself, seeing Briarlight’s ribs sliding beneath her fur as she struggled to breathe. And it’s harder for her to fight the sickness because she can’t move.

Alderheart wasn’t sure how long he sat in the medicine cats’ den, listening to Briarlight’s gradually fading breath. At one point Leafpool slipped in quietly and sat beside Jayfeather, wrapping her tail around her son’s shoulders.

Later Twigpaw appeared, meowing, “Alderheart, do you—” as she brushed past the bramble screen, then falling silent as she realized how weak Briarlight had become. She crept closer to the dying cat.

“Oh, Briarlight. Good-bye,” she whispered. “You were so kind to me when I was a kit.”

Briarlight’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked affectionately at Twigpaw. “We had . . . some good times,” she rasped.

Millie pressed even closer to her daughter. “Oh, precious one, don’t leave us,” she mewed, her voice quivering. “Please don’t leave us.”

Briarlight looked up at her mother. “Don’t . . . worry about me, Millie. I shall . . . run and hunt again . . . in StarClan.”

Then her eyes closed once more and she sighed out a long, final breath. Millie let out a terrible wail; Graystripe and her two remaining kits huddled around her.

Alderheart couldn’t bear to watch them trying to comfort one another. He stumbled out of the den, shocked to see that the sun was already going down, casting dark shadows across the hollow. His legs gave way under him and he crouched with his head on his paws and gave himself up to grief.

Soon he realized that Jayfeather had followed him out and was crouching beside him, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “This is my fault,” he snarled. “I must have given her the sickness when I went into the nursery to deliver Ivypool’s kits. I should never have gone near her.”

His guilt and regret struck Alderheart like a massive claw, driving him a little way out of his own sorrow. “It’s not your fault,” he meowed firmly. “Ivypool and her kits might have died without a medicine cat to help. Besides, you could just as well say that Leafpool and I were responsible. We shouldn’t have left you as the only medicine cat in camp.”