“Don’t worry about a thing, Daisy,” Cloudtail assured the cream-colored she-cat. “Some of the warriors are leaving, but there are plenty of us left to protect you and the kits.”

“Graystripe said we can double the guard on the camp,” Brightheart added.

“I know you’ll all help.” Daisy still sounded worried. “But is it right to bring that murderous cat back here?”

Jayfeather didn’t want to listen to yet another discussion about Sol. Pushing his way through the brambles into the nursery, he found the kits swarming like ants whose nest has been disturbed.

“Now you be the killer!” Rosekit squealed, batting Blossomkit on the ear with one paw. “And we’ll all come and catch you!”

Blossomkit let out a screech of excitement; Jayfeather almost tripped over the other kits as they bundled on top of her in a writhing heap.

“Stop that right now!” Millie’s voice was shocked. “This isn’t fun. A brave ThunderClan warrior is dead.”

Ashfur was never this important when he was alive, Jayfeather thought.

The kits calmed down a little as Jayfeather set down the tansy and left. On his way back to his den, he passed Firestar with Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Brackenfur.

“We can’t assume the problems are over,” Sandstorm was meowing. “If I were you, Firestar, I’d warn all cats to stay away from the WindClan border, except for patrols.”

“Right,” Graystripe agreed. “We don’t want to find another warrior dead in the stream.”

Jayfeather stifled a sigh. What’s the point of patrols and guards? The killer is here.

A night breeze had sprung up when Jayfeather padded over to the fresh-kill pile where Lionblaze and Hollyleaf were eating with the rest of the Sol patrol. Earlier in the day, he hadn’t known what to say to them, and it was no better now.

“Hi,” he meowed. “Ready for tomorrow?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Hollyleaf replied.

“It’s weird, going without you.” Lionblaze brushed his muzzle against Jayfeather’s shoulder. “This will be the first time we’ve ever been separated.”

Jayfeather nodded. He had even managed the long journey to visit the Tribe in the mountains, but this time he had to stay behind. In spite of his earlier impatience with his littermates, it felt wrong to be split from them, especially when he knew that the tendrils of the secret that bound them together could not be broken by any distance.

“Well…I guess it’s good-bye,” he muttered.

“I guess,” Lionblaze meowed.

Jayfeather touched his nose to his brother’s, and then to Hollyleaf’s.

“Bye, Jayfeather,” she murmured.

There ought to be more to say, Jayfeather knew, but tension quivered among the three of them like the strands of a spider’s web. In the end, he ducked his head, mumbled, “May StarClan light your path,” and headed back to the medicine cats’ den.

Jayfeather opened his eyes to see bleak rocks stretching to either side of him and a plunging precipice just in front of his paws. Startled, he leaped back. Wind swept across the mountaintop, ruffling his fur. As he recovered from the first shock of finding himself here, he recognized the place where he had met Midnight the badger.