“Make your own future, Jayfeather,” the spirit-cat interrupted. “Don’t expect it to be dropped at your paws like a piece of fresh-kill.”

Every hair on Jayfeather’s pelt prickled with annoyance. How was he supposed to make his own future if no cat would tell him anything? He dug his claws into the earth.

“Jayfeather!” Mousefur’s voice came from the edge of the lake. “Jayfeather!”

Darkness slammed down over Jayfeather’s vision. The scent of Rock vanished.

“Jayfeather, where are you?”

He crawled out from under the elder bush, kicking dead leaves and debris over the stick. He would have to come back later and hide it properly.

“What are you doing under there?” Mousefur asked, padding up to him. “We’re ready to go back now. We wondered if you have any herbs for us to carry.”

“Er…no, I haven’t found any,” Jayfeather stammered.

Mousefur sighed. “Maybe you’re not looking in the right place. Last I heard, herbs don’t grow well under elder bushes. There’s a huge clump of tansy just behind you,” she added.

Jayfeather’s pelt grew hot with embarrassment. He should have taken time to grab a few herbs before he tried to speak with Rock. He had been so intent on finding the spirit-cat that he hadn’t even noticed the sharp scent of the tansy.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

He was aware of Mousefur’s irritation as he and the skinny elder picked the herbs together. There wasn’t enough for Jayfeather to need help carrying it, and he scented no other herbs as all three cats headed back toward the camp.

“Is that all?” Leafpool asked; she was waiting outside the den when Jayfeather arrived with the tansy. “What about the yarrow and chervil I asked for?”

“I couldn’t find any,” Jayfeather mumbled around the bunch of stems.

Leafpool snorted. “Didn’t look, more likely. Jayfeather, I didn’t send you out there to waste time. You have to do what you’re supposed to!” Her voice deepened to a snarl. “If every cat did that, there wouldn’t be any problems.”

Who put ants in her fur? Jayfeather wondered. It wasn’t like Leafpool to be so short-tempered. For once he didn’t want to argue with her, so he just headed for the den to put the tansy away.

Leafpool brushed past him. “Leave that! I’ll do it.” She almost snatched the herbs out of his jaws; fury rolled off her as she carried them into the cave.

Jayfeather backed out of the den and padded across to the fresh-kill pile. But he had eaten earlier, and even a freshly caught mouse couldn’t tempt him. There were pangs in his belly sharper than hunger: Already he missed Lionblaze and Hollyleaf more than he would have thought possible. They had never been separated for this long before.

In the dream Midnight had said that the patrol was chasing wild geese and Rock had told him that the answers lay inside ThunderClan itself. But Jayfeather didn’t know how he was going to find them on his own. What kind of power was it, to walk in other cats’ dreams, when you woke up still blind? There was no way he was going to find out anything when he was trapped in darkness at every step.