“Stop that!” he snarled. “Blossomkit, do you want your fleas fixed or don’t you?”

The little tortoiseshell kit instantly broke away from the play fight and stood quietly in front of Jayfeather again. Toadkit pushed up close to them; Jayfeather could feel the kit’s breath on his ear.

“Do you like being a medicine cat?” Toadkit asked. “I wouldn’t want to do it if you only get to look for fleas.”

StarClan, give me patience! “That’s not all medicine cats do,” Jayfeather replied through clenched teeth. “We have to know about herbs and—”

“Do you think I’d be a good medicine cat?” Toadkit persisted. “I’d be good at finding herbs. I can scent out anything. Can I be a medicine cat? Can I?”

“You’ll be lucky to make warrior if you don’t shut up,” Jayfeather muttered.

“Daisy!” Toadkit let out a wail as he scampered away through the bracken that covered the floor of the nursery. “Daisy, Jayfeather was mean to me!”

“Honestly, Jayfeather!” Daisy’s irritated voice came from the other side of the den. “I think you’ve got ants in your fur this morning. You should go away and come back later when you can be more pleasant.”

Jayfeather ignored her, and went on searching for fleas in gloomy silence. He wanted Hollyleaf and Lionblaze to come back. They belonged together—especially now, when they had no idea where they had been born, who their parents were, or why Squirrelflight had lied to them for so long.

When Jayfeather finally left the nursery, he paused for a few heartbeats, letting out a long sigh as the weak rays of the leaf-bare sun soaked into his fur. A paw step behind him and the scent of his Clan leader made him turn.

“Good morning, Jayfeather,” Firestar meowed. There was concern in his voice. “Are you okay? Any problems?”

“I’m fine.” Jayfeather dipped his head awkwardly. He didn’t want to tell his leader that all his problems came from his Clanmates. After all, Firestar had never lied to him, as far as he knew.

He felt a pang of regret that he didn’t share his Clan leader’s blood after all. His respect for the flame-colored tom had nothing to do with the prophecy, and everything to do with the way Firestar led his Clan, even losing a life to greencough for their sake.

“Good,” Firestar murmured. Jayfeather sensed that the Clan leader didn’t entirely believe him. “You know, you can always tell me if there’s anything bothering you.”

“Yes…fine.” Jayfeather felt even more uncomfortable. Firestar, you don’t want to know the things I could tell you!

To his relief, Firestar padded off toward the fresh-kill pile. Left alone at the edge of the hollow, Jayfeather scanned the clearing. He located Mousefur and Longtail sharing tongues outside their den, and heard the skinny brown elder complain, “Leaf-bare was never as cold as this in the old forest.”

Outside the apprentice den, Foxpaw and Icepaw were trying out a new fighting move; Jayfeather reminded himself to tell them about the nursery bedding. Cloudtail and Brightheart were padding toward the thorn tunnel. “I think we should try for prey near the old Twoleg nest,” Cloudtail suggested.