Jayfeather nodded. To Alderheart’s surprise, Fuzzball crept up and sat quietly beside him. He was even more astonished to see Jayfeather reach out with his tail and touch the little ginger tom lightly on his shoulder.

At last the sky above the hollow began to grow pale with dawn, and the warriors of StarClan winked out one by one. Leafpool rose to her paws.

“May StarClan light your path, Briarlight,” she meowed, using the words that medicine cats had spoken over the bodies of the dead for season upon season. “May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”

Her words gave Alderheart a tiny measure of comfort, like a thin ray of sunlight striking through dark branches. For a moment he seemed to see Briarlight, swift and beautiful, racing through the lush grass and trees of StarClan.

After Leafpool had spoken, Graystripe and Millie took up Briarlight’s body and carried it out of camp for burial. Grief caught in Alderheart’s throat again as he watched them: this was the traditional task of the Clan elders, but it seemed to hurt so much more since the elders were also Briarlight’s parents.

When they were gone, Alderheart rose to his paws and stumbled back to his den, feeling cold and stiff after the long vigil. He knew there were tasks he should be doing, but he was too exhausted even to remember what they were.

Then Velvet appeared at his shoulder, guiding him toward his nest. “Lie down and sleep,” she mewed, gently pushing him down into the moss and fern. “I’ll watch the den until Leafpool and Jayfeather come back. If any cat needs you, I’ll wake you, but I can take care of any minor ailments or wounds.”

“But I should—” Alderheart began to protest.

Velvet interrupted him by laying her tail across his mouth. “Let me take care of you,” she murmured.

That feels so good, Alderheart thought muzzily as he sank into sleep. Someone to take care of me . . . That hardly ever happens.

The last thing he was aware of was Velvet’s sweet scent wreathing around him.

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Violetshine slid through the fern tunnel into the SkyClan camp, a couple of mice dangling from her jaws. Rowanclaw and Macgyver followed her, both of them laden with their own prey. The hunting had been good.

The camp was almost deserted: this was the day it was SkyClan’s turn to go and help RiverClan restore their camp after the fire. The only cat Violetshine could see was Yarrowleaf, curled up asleep on a sunlit rock not far from the nursery.

Something about that looks odd, Violetshine thought as she padded across the camp to deposit her prey on the fresh-kill pile. A moment later, she realized what it was.

Where are Yarrowleaf’s kits?