Then a deeper pang shook her. Maybe that’s what I am.

The patrol followed Jingo along more walls and fences, and over the roofs of another set of monster nests, until twilight began to spill from the shadows. Eventually Jingo halted at the corner of a wall.

“See that holly bush?” she meowed, waving her tail in the direction of a dark, bushy mass poking over a fence on the other side of a small Thunderpath. “Purdy’s den is just beyond it.”

“Thank you, Jingo,” Brambleclaw meowed. “We would never have found it without you.”

“You’re welcome,” the she-cat replied. “You’ll be able to hunt and spend the night there. But be careful,” she added more seriously. “Sol has a way of making cats believe in him. I know, because I believed in him, too. Enough to leave my housefolk, where I was happy.” In the gathering dusk, her eyes shone with sadness.

“Why don’t you go back to your housefolk?” Birchfall asked.

“Because the other cats need me,” Jingo replied. “Every cat needs a leader—someone to follow, someone to make the hard decisions. That’s why we listened to Sol. But it’s my job now. I can’t leave them.”

Loneliness throbbed in her voice. Hollyleaf felt desperately sorry for her. A Clan leader was chosen through the warrior code and given nine lives by StarClan. It was a huge honor, and the leader had the support of the Clan deputy, the medicine cat, and the senior warriors. But Jingo had no one.

The tabby she-cat gave herself a shake, as if getting rid of useless regrets. She touched noses with each of the Clan cats. “Good-bye and good luck,” she meowed. “Come and see us if you ever pass our nest again.”

“We will,” Brackenfur promised. “Good-bye and good luck to you, too.”

Jingo dipped her head as the other cats added their good-byes, and turned to pad along the wall, back the way she had come. Her head and her tail were lifted high.

“Good-bye, Jingostar,” Brambleclaw whispered, too softly for the retreating she-cat to hear him. “May StarClan light your path.”

Hollyleaf crouched just behind Brambleclaw in the shadows underneath the holly bush. The Twoleg den beyond looked even more abandoned than the one where Jingo and the others lived. Dark holes gaped in the walls and roof.

“Remember when we met Purdy on the way to the mountains?” Lionblaze murmured into his sister’s ear. “He said his Upwalker had died.”

“Maybe Purdy won’t be here at all,” Hollyleaf suggested. She wasn’t sure whether she would be glad or sorry. She looked forward to meeting the cranky old cat again, but she was afraid of what the encounter with Sol would bring.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Brambleclaw meowed. He began to pick his way through the straggling bushes that surrounded the nest. Hollyleaf’s jaws flooded as she picked up a strong smell of mouse.

“Prey!” Hazeltail’s voice was sharp with hunger. “Brambleclaw, may we hunt?”