Looking down into the hollow, he could see the thornbush where Sol was a prisoner, and Birchfall, crouched on watch just beyond the outer branches. The thick, criss-crossing growth of the thorn hid Sol from Lionblaze’s sight, but Sol’s scent drifted up to him as he tasted the air.

“Right,” Lionblaze whispered. “Let’s go!”

Paw step by paw step, he crept down the cliff face, testing each foothold before he dared put his weight on it. He wasn’t just afraid of falling; if he dislodged a stone, or slipped and had to scrabble to save himself, he would alert Birchfall. He froze once as he brushed against a straggling bush growing from a crack, and once when a shower of grit spurted up from under his paws and pattered down into the camp. But Birchfall didn’t move.

Snoozing on watch? Lionblaze wondered.

Moons seemed to have passed before he leaped down the last fox-length to land lightly on the ground beside the bush. His legs trembled. With a swift glance toward the slumbering shape of Birchfall, he crawled underneath the branches of the thornbush.

In the dim light that filtered through the twigs, he saw Sol curled up in a mossy nest, his tail wrapped over his nose and his sides heaving with the rhythmic breathing of sleep. Lionblaze crept over to him and prodded his shoulder. Sol’s eyes flew open, and for a heartbeat Lionblaze thought he saw surprise flicker in their amber depths. His jaws opened, but Lionblaze slapped his tail over the loner’s muzzle before he could utter a sound.

“Quiet!”

Sol nodded, and Lionblaze took his tail away.

“I’m sorry, Lionblaze. For a moment I thought you were that snake.” Sol was composed once more, his hushed voice barely reaching Lionblaze’s ears. “What can I do for you?”

“I…I need to talk to you.” Now that Lionblaze had succeeded in coming face-to-face with his Clan’s prisoner, it was harder than he had expected to say what he had to say. “I’ve found out that my mother isn’t who I thought she was, and I need to figure out if it affects the prophecy.”

“Good,” Sol mewed softly. He sat up and began to groom moss out of his fur. “You can start by helping me get out of here.”

“I—I can’t do that!” Lionblaze only just remembered to keep his voice down.

“Of course you can. You must have climbed down the cliff to get here without Birchfall seeing you. You can show me the way to get back up. I didn’t kill Ashfur. You know I didn’t.”

“As far as ThunderClan is concerned, you’re the only cat it could have been,” Lionblaze retorted. He wasn’t sure what he thought himself. He couldn’t forget how Sol had promised to help him fulfill the prophecy—and how much he needed that help now—but he also shrank from betraying his Clan by letting the loner escape.

“Why should I help you if you won’t help me?” Sol gave Lionblaze a long look from glowing amber eyes, then calmly licked one paw and started to wash his face.