The two apprentices, Foxpaw and Icepaw, emerged from the elders’ den under the hazel bush, pushing an enormous ball of moss between them. Mousefur and Longtail followed them out and crouched down in a patch of sunlight. Mousewhisker pushed his way out of the warriors’ den, yawning and flicking bits of moss off his pelt.

Graystripe and Millie appeared from the nursery, with their kits tumbling around their paws. They were followed more slowly by Birchfall and Whitewing; the white she-cat was heavy with kits, and Birchfall kept close to her side. Daisy was the last to appear; she sat in the nursery entrance, giving her chest fur a thorough wash, while Toadkit and Rosekit rolled around beside her, play fighting.

Leafpool and Jayfeather emerged from the medicine cats’ den and stayed just outside the bramble screen, away from the rest of the Clan. Lionblaze tried to catch his brother’s attention, but Jayfeather refused to respond, resolutely facing Firestar instead.

“I know you’re all wondering what to do about Ashfur’s death,” the Clan leader began. “I promise you that the cat who killed him will be punished. But there’s no proof that WindClan was involved.”

“There’s enough proof for me,” Spiderleg grunted.

Firestar ignored the interruption. “I will lead a patrol to speak with Onestar. Not to accuse him or attack his Clan. Ashfur died on the WindClan border, and it’s possible that one of Onestar’s warriors saw something.”

There were murmurs of disagreement from some of the listening cats; Thornclaw was flexing his claws in and out, but he didn’t speak up.

“Brambleclaw, you’ll come with me,” Firestar went on. “And Brackenfur, Sorreltail, and Lionblaze. We’ll leave right away.”

Lionblaze felt a jolt in his belly when Firestar spoke his name. For a heartbeat, he wanted to protest; he hated the thought of being involved in the investigation of Ashfur’s death. But he knew that if he said anything, he would only draw attention to himself. He had no reason to refuse to go to WindClan; as far as the other cats knew, he was as shocked by Ashfur’s death, and as determined to get vengeance, as they were.

“Good,” Hollyleaf breathed into his ear. “And you’ve got to tell me what happens when you get back.”

“Okay,” Lionblaze muttered. “But I’d rather stay out of it.”

Firestar leaped down from the boulder and padded through the groups of cats with Brambleclaw just behind him. Brackenfur and Sorreltail joined them.

Cats who didn’t want to attack WindClan, Lionblaze realized.

Firestar isn’t taking any risks.

Firestar led them toward the thorn tunnel; before they left, he turned and summoned Graystripe with a flick of his tail. “Keep an eye on Thornclaw and the others,” he murmured to the gray warrior. “Make sure they don’t try to launch their own attack.”

Graystripe nodded grimly. “Don’t worry. I’ll stick closer than their pelts.”

Lionblaze and the others followed Firestar as he headed through the woods, making for the WindClan border. Fallen leaves rustled as the cats brushed through them; in the shade of the trees, where the leaf-bare sun didn’t penetrate, every leaf was still rimmed with frost. The bare branches traced delicate patterns against the sky.