“I know, and I’m sorry. But it’ll hurt worse if the scratches get infected. Come on.” Leafpool tried to encourage him. “You’re not a kit any more.”
Birchpaw nodded; his whole body stiffened as he braced himself. Leafpool patted on more of the marigold pulp, and this time breathed a sigh of relief to see the healing juices trickle into his eye.
“Try to get some more sleep,” she suggested once she had checked the wounds on his haunches. “Do you need poppy seed?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” meowed Birchpaw, curling up again. “Will you tell Ashfur that I won’t be able to train today?”
“Sure,” Leafpool replied.
She waited until Birchpaw was asleep again, then set off for the nursery with more borage for Sorreltail. On her way she spotted Stormfur and Brook returning to the camp with jaws full of fresh-kill and realised how hungry she was. She could hardly remember the last time she had eaten: it must have been before her desperate dash back from the hills with Crowfeather to warn her Clan.
She made her way over to Stormfur and Brook. A small fresh-kill pile was already there, showing how hard the visitors had been working that morning.
“Hi,” Brook meowed. “I was going to bring some fresh-kill to your den.”
“No need, thanks, I’ll eat here,” Leafpool replied, after setting down the borage. “If you’re sure there’s enough. Have Sorreltail and the elders had some?”
“I’m seeing to them now,” Stormfur mewed. “You take what you want, Leafpool. There’s plenty of prey, and Sandstorm and Cloudtail are out hunting as well.” He grabbed a couple of mice and headed for the nursery.
Brook took more fresh-kill for the elders, while Leafpool chose a vole for herself. As she crouched to eat it, Spiderleg and Ashfur came over.
Spiderleg shot Leafpool a swift glance, dipping his head awkwardly. “It’s good to have you back,” he muttered.
Leafpool felt as embarrassed as he looked. She didn’t want to talk to any cat about why she had left the Clan. “It’s good to be back,” she told him. It was a relief to turn to Ashfur and give him Birchpaw’s message. “It’ll be a few days yet before he’s fit to start training again,” she finished.
Ashfur nodded. “I’ll come and see him later,” he promised.
Leafpool ate her vole in a few rapid bites, then headed for the nursery to visit Sorreltail. The sun had cleared the trees at the top of the hollow, shining down from a blue sky dotted with a few white puffs of cloud. Leafpool was grateful for the warmth on her fur. The injured cats would be able to bask in the open while their nests were cleaned out.
The damaged brambles had been dragged out of the nursery the night before, leaving a few ragged holes where the sun shone in. Daisy’s three kits were playing around her, pouncing on the bright spots of light.
“Take that, you horrible badger!” Berrykit squealed.
“Get out of our camp!” Hazelkit growled, while Mousekit spat and showed his teeth.
“That’s enough.” Daisy swept her tail around the three kits, drawing them closer to her. “If you want to play rough games, you must go outside. You’re disturbing Sorreltail. Remember how tiny her kits are.”
“Yeah, we’re not the youngest any more,” Berrykit boasted. “We’ll be apprentices soon.”
Daisy didn’t reply, but Leafpool thought she saw uncertainty in the horseplace cat’s eyes.
Berrykit’s head popped up from behind Daisy’s protective tail. “Hi, Leafpool!” he meowed. “Where have you been? We missed you. Is your friend from WindClan going to stay with us?”
“Shhh,” Daisy mewed, giving Berrykit’s ear a flick with her tail-tip. “Don’t bother Leafpool now. Can’t you see she’s busy?”
Leafpool dipped her head gratefully to Daisy, her mouthful of borage giving her the perfect excuse not to answer. She slid further into the nursery to find Sorreltail.
The young tortoiseshell was curled up in a deep nest of moss and bracken, her four kits burrowing close to her belly. Brackenfur was beside her while the two cats finished off the fresh-kill Stormfur had brought them.
“Hi, Leafpool.” Sorreltail blinked drowsily. “Is that more borage?”
“That’s right.” Leafpool put the leaves down where her friend could reach them. “You need to make sure you have plenty of milk, with four kits to feed.”
“They’re worse than famished foxes,” Brackenfur purred, beaming proudly at his offspring. Leafpool was glad to see he was calmer now, beginning to recover from the shock of the attack, so that he could care for his mate and kits.
“They’re fine, healthy kits,” meowed Leafpool. “Just what the Clan needs.”
As she watched Sorreltail chew up the borage, she remembered the adventures the two of them had shared in the old forest, when she was still an apprentice and Sorreltail was a carefree young warrior. They could never be as close as that again. Now Sorreltail was a mother, while Leafpool was ThunderClan’s medicine cat. When she left with Crowfeather, she had briefly glimpsed what it would be like to turn her back on her duties—but her heart had brought her back to her Clan.
Leafpool felt distance yawning between her and Crowfeather like a mountain gorge. Pain twisted inside her, but she pushed it away. She had chosen the life of a medicine cat; there was no going back.
“Try getting some sleep now,” she mewed to Sorreltail. “Brackenfur, make sure she rests.”
Brackenfur gave Sorreltail’s ears an affectionate lick. “I will.”
Leafpool turned away and blundered out into the bright sunlight, where she stood blinking. She had given up Crowfeather, her mentor was dead, and her best friend had a mate and kits to care for. Even her sister, Squirrelflight, who had once shared everything with Leafpool, was together with Brambleclaw again. Leafpool wanted her sister to be happy, but she missed being closer to her than any other cat.
Oh, StarClan! she murmured. I have given up everything for you. I hope this is what you wanted.
For the rest of the day she buried herself in her duties. Brightheart and Whitepaw worked tirelessly to collect supplies, and by the time the sun went down the stocks of herbs and berries had been replenished, and Leafpool had treated the wounds of every cat in the Clan. As they withdrew to their dens for the rest they badly needed, she looked around the clearing and saw that the terrible scars of the attack were beginning to fade. Dustpelt and his helpers had piled up thorns for a new entrance barrier that was already half completed, while Sandstorm and the other hunters had brought in plenty of prey to build up the fresh-kill pile.
Leafpool was exhausted, but she knew she would be unable to sleep. Instead of going back to her den, she padded across the clearing and out past the partly rebuilt barrier of thorns. Unbidden, her paws carried her towards the lake, until she reached the open ground at the edge of the trees and could gaze out over the starlit water.
Memories flooded back of the nights she had sneaked out of camp to meet Crowfeather. Then her paws had felt as light as air; she had raced through the bracken to their meeting place.
Now everything was changed. Grief and loss weighed her down like stone. She settled into a drift of dry leaves, letting her gaze rest on the starry surface of the lake.
Not many heartbeats passed before she saw that the stars in the water were moving. At first she thought it was just wind ruffling the surface, but all around her the air was still. Her pelt prickled. Above her the stars of Silverpelt blazed down as they had always done, cold, white, and unmoving; but in the lake, some patches of water were dark and empty, while the reflected stars swam sparkling across the surface until they were clustered together in two slender paths.
Leafpool