Erin Hunter - Sign of the Moon

But reality rushed back all too soon. “We can’t know that for certain,” he argued. “Hollyleaf might have been badly injured; she could have crawled away to die somewhere else in the tunnels. Or maybe she couldn’t find the way out.”

“True.” Lionblaze’s voice was sad. “We both know how hard that is, especially since WindClan blocked off their entrance.”

“And even if she did get out alive, where would she go?” Jayfeather tried to imagine his sister crawling out of the tunnels, shaking earth out of her pelt, maybe sitting down for a while to clean her wounds. What would she have done then? ThunderClan would always be closed to her. Even if no cat ever discovered the truth about Ashfur’s murder, Hollyleaf had been torn apart by the discovery that Leafpool was her mother and her father was Crowfeather of WindClan. She could not bear knowing that the cats she had trusted had lied to her, and that forced her to give up everything she had trained and hoped for as a loyal ThunderClan warrior.

“She couldn’t come back to the Clan,” he murmured.

“But she was good at hunting, and fighting to defend herself,” Lionblaze pointed out. “She might have settled down somewhere as a loner.”

Jayfeather shook his head. “The Clan—the warrior code—was everything to Hollyleaf.” Besides, he added to himself, wouldn’t I have picked up some sense of her if she was still alive? I should have.

“Come on,” Lionblaze urged him. “We must explore the tunnels. We’ve got to find out what happened.”

But Jayfeather hung back. The whispering of the ancient cats was louder now, and he thought he could hear the pad of paws growing ever more frantic: Fallen Leaves in his eternal search for the way out, and the start of his life as a sharpclaw. Jayfeather recalled how he had padded through the tunnels and found himself living among those ancient cats at the moment they were considering abandoning their home for the stone hills in the distance. Undecided, they had left the lake because of Jayfeather’s casting vote.

What would I say to Fallen Leaves now? Does he know that his Clanmates deserted him because of me?

“What are you waiting for?” Lionblaze demanded. He was already standing at the mouth of the tunnel. Reluctantly Jayfeather took a paw step to join him, only to halt as a fat drop of rain splashed onto his head.

“It’s raining,” he meowed. “We can’t go down there now. It’s too dangerous. The river might flood.”

“Mouse dung!” Lionblaze growled.

Jayfeather felt slightly ashamed that he couldn’t share his brother’s annoyance. Instead, he was relieved. As he scrambled back up the branch with Lionblaze behind him, the rain grew heavier. By the time the two cats pulled themselves out of the hole, it was pelting down, plastering their muddy fur to their bodies.

Jayfeather stood shivering while Lionblaze, grunting with effort, pushed the end of the branch down into the hole. “There,” he panted. “No other cat will be lost down there. Dustpelt and Brackenfur will finish the barrier in the morning.”

Jayfeather followed his brother back to camp, rain driving into their faces as they splashed through mud and lashing wet undergrowth. When they reached the entrance, he located Ivypool and Dovewing still on watch, huddled in the shelter of the thorn barrier. Neither of them paid any attention to the two toms as they brushed through the tunnel and headed for their dens.

“We’ve got to talk about this again,” Lionblaze muttered before they separated.

Jayfeather replied with a curt nod. Between the struggle in the hole, the discovery about Hollyleaf, and being soaked through on his way back to camp, he was exhausted.

Briarlight sat up as Jayfeather brushed past the bramble screen and staggered toward his nest. “Where have you been?” she meowed.

“Out,” Jayfeather replied brusquely, then realized that he could scent only one cat inside the den. “Where’s Icecloud?”

“She went back to the warriors’ den. She said she could rest just as well there.”

Jayfeather shrugged. He was too tired to say what he thought about warriors who thought they knew better than their medicine cat. He would check on Icecloud in the morning.

“You’re all wet and muddy!” Briarlight exclaimed.

Yeah, and claws are sharp! Anything else obvious you want to point out?

“I’m fine,” Jayfeather said aloud.

“No, you’re not fine,” Briarlight insisted. “You’re as wet as a drowned mouse, and asleep on your paws. Come over here and let me clean you up.” When Jayfeather didn’t reply, she added with a hint of mischief in her voice, “I promise I won’t nag you about where you’ve been.”

Too weary to argue, Jayfeather padded over to Briarlight’s nest and flopped down beside her. A moment later he felt the rough lap of her tongue, stroking rhythmically over his shoulder. For a moment he felt embarrassed that she was the one looking after him, but the young cat’s licks were so soothing that he dozed off, wondering if his mother had ever licked him like this.

But which mother? Leafpool or Squirrelflight?

He could see a face gazing down at him; at first he thought it was Leafpool, but it blurred and became Squirrelflight, then changed to Hollyleaf, her green eyes glowing as they stared at him. Jayfeather jerked awake, half sitting up. His fur felt dry and warm, and his whole body was more relaxed.

“Are you okay?” Briarlight’s anxious voice reminded him where he was.

“I’m fine.” Jayfeather sighed. Suddenly he wished there was some cat he could talk to: not a cat from StarClan, but a real friend like Lionblaze had in Cinderheart. He didn’t think Briarlight could be that cat.

“It must be hard, when you do so much for the Clan, and you have to keep all StarClan’s secrets,” she murmured.

StarClan’s secrets are much easier than our own!

“I’m a medicine cat; it’s what I do,” he responded. “You’ll never have to worry about anything like that.”

“Yeah, right,” Briarlight muttered in such a low tone that Jayfeather wasn’t sure he was meant to hear. “Because I’ll never be anything useful, will I?”

Jayfeather rose to his paws. He knew that even though Briarlight had been helping him with medicine cat duties, nothing would make up for not being a warrior. “Thanks for licking my fur dry,” he mewed, and padded off to his own nest.

Curled up among the bracken, Jayfeather opened his eyes to find himself back at the bottom of the hole. The rain had stopped. High above, clouds scudded fast across the sky, though Jayfeather couldn’t feel any wind. Padding deeper into the tunnel, he saw that the way ahead was dimly lit, as if the stars were shining through the earth and rock above his head. He walked farther in, his ears pricked to catch the slightest sound, but the air around him was empty and silent.

Where are all the ancient cats?

Jayfeather padded on and on into the silver light, until he reached the cave where the river flowed. This time it was thin and black, rushing swiftly between the rocks, not swollen and angry as it had been last time he was here. Hope tingled through his paws as he glanced up at Rock’s ledge, but it was bare.

A soft paw step sounded behind Jayfeather. He spun around to see a faint shape slipping out from a different tunnel. “Fallen Leaves?” he meowed.

“No,” rasped a familiar voice.

“Rock!”

The ancient cat padded up to Jayfeather, his long, twisted claws clicking on the stone floor. His blind eyes bulged and the pale light glistened on his furless body. His face was solemn as he halted in front of Jayfeather.

“Why did you break my stick?” Rock asked. His tone revealed no anger or sadness, nothing to tell Jayfeather how he was feeling.