“I came across this herb,” he began, “and I don’t know what it is.” Please, StarClan, don’t let him wonder why I haven’t asked Leafpool!

“What sort of herb?” Littlecloud queried.

“It has a sharp scent, and the leaves feel crinkly,” Jayfeather meowed, wishing he could have told the ShadowClan medicine cat what it looked like; even if he had been able to see it, the shriveled stalk wouldn’t have given him much of a clue to the fresh herb. “It tastes cold, like frost on fur, and even the dried leaves taste fresh like grass,” he added, remembering what Mousefur had told him.

“Hmm…” Littlecloud padded on thoughtfully for a few heartbeats. “It sounds like parsley to me. Its leaves have a very distinctive shape, like tiny shallow claws around the edge, and it tastes the same fresh or dried.”

“And what’s that used for?” Jayfeather struggled to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Not much,” Littlecloud replied. “But it’s good for stopping milk in nursing queens if their kits die.”

Jayfeather stopped dead.

Or if their kits didn’t die, but were given to a different cat!

His heart was pounding so hard that he thought it would burst out of his chest. All the separate scraps of knowledge that he had gathered about his birth suddenly tumbled together into a terrifying pattern.

“Are you okay?” Littlecloud asked anxiously.

“What? Oh—yes, fine.”

Jayfeather forced his paws forward again. His mind was spinning and filling with flashes of light, and he hardly remembered to say good-bye to the other medicine cats when they reached the border of their territories.

He had always been told that Squirrelflight had no milk, so Ferncloud and Daisy had nursed him and his littermates. Which meant Squirrelflight wouldn’t have needed to take parsley. So maybe our real mother had to eat it to hide that she’d just given birth!

Jayfeather’s memory carried him back to when he was a tiny kit, struggling through the snow. He had to remember! Think about the scents, he told himself. That’s where the answers lie. His sense of smell had never before let him down when it was important. It couldn’t fail him now.

There was a cat close to him, walking slowly through the snow with the scent of milk clinging to her fur. It wasn’t Squirrelflight—it couldn’t be Squirrelflight. Suddenly, Jayfeather took a deep breath. He knew exactly which cat’s scent it was.

Everything added up. Which cat could depend on Squirrelflight’s loyalty, knowing she would carry out the deception for moons and moons, even if it meant lying to her own mate? Which cat had always poured out love and concern around him and his littermates? Which cat could never admit that she had borne kits?

Leafpool! Leafpool is our mother!

CHAPTER 21

Hollyleaf blinked wearily in the misty dawn as the elders and Purdy carried Honeyfern’s body out of the camp. The sun had vanished and the sky was covered with thick gray clouds. The breeze carried a tang of rain to come. All the Clan stood silently watching while their Clanmate went to her burial.