Crowfeather's Trial

For the first time — and Crowfeather knew that it was pretty useless to see it now — he felt a flush of recognition for Jayfeather. Even though Bramblestar had raised him, there could be no doubt: The blind medicine cat really was his kit.

“Yes, the burdock root is for Breezepelt,” he admitted, allowing a bit of impatience into his own voice. Jayfeather needs to know I’m serious. “He’s badly hurt. Kestrelflight says he has an infected stoat bite. He’s feverish and he doesn’t recognize any cat, and Kestrelflight told me he needs burdock root. He—”

“I’m sorry.” Jayfeather cut him off with barely concealed contempt. “I don’t have any to spare.”

The disappointment struck Crowfeather like a blow. For a moment he’d thought he understood the cranky, blind medicine cat… But I was wrong. And why shouldn’t I be? I barely know him.

Crowfeather felt a sinking feeling deep in his chest and was about to take his leave when he realized something: Jayfeather had said he couldn’t spare any burdock root, not that he didn’t have any at all.

“If you can lend me some, just for a little while,” he pleaded, “I’ll find more for you. I—”

Jayfeather interrupted again, every word spat out as if it were rotting crow-food. “Breezepelt tried to kill my brother. He said he was glad that Hollyleaf was dead, and that none of us should ever have been born. Lionblaze might have forgiven Breezepelt, but Lionblaze is a nicer cat than I am. Or a more stupid one.” His blind eyes glared at Crowfeather, the pelt on his scrawny figure bushing out. “I can’t forgive Breezepelt. I can’t forgive you. And I don’t have any burdock root to spare.”

Crowfeather stood still, his shoulders sagging as he took his son’s hostile expression. The thought crossed his mind that he could fight his way past Jayfeather and take the burdock root, but he knew how bee-brained that would be. I’d never make it out of the camp. But it was hard to know that the root to save Breezepelt was only a few tail-lengths away, at the back of the den.

“I’m sorry I treated you badly when I found out you were my kit,” Crowfeather meowed at last, breaking the long silence. “And I know that Breezepelt is sorry for what he did in the battle against the Dark Forest.”

If he had hoped for a sympathetic response from Jayfeather, he was disappointed. The medicine cat said nothing, only flicked his tail dismissively.

Crowfeather dipped his head in acceptance. “Good-bye,” he murmured. “I should have known that you would say no.” Then he turned and left the den.

I’ll go on around the lake and stop off in ShadowClan, and if that’s no good, I’ll visit RiverClan on my way home. Mothwing won’t refuse if she has the burdock root. But even so, every extra paw step takes time Breezepelt may not have…

The rain was still falling, depressing Crowfeather’s spirits even more. He headed for the thorn tunnel, but before he reached it, he heard Jayfeather calling out behind him. “Crowfeather, wait!”

Crowfeather halted and turned. Jayfeather was approaching him, carrying something in his mouth. In spite of everything, Crowfeather was impressed by the way the blind cat found his way across the camp, even skirting neatly around a puddle that lay in his way.

When Jayfeather reached him, Crowfeather saw that what he was carrying was burdock root; he dropped it on the ground at Crowfeather’s paws.

“I still don’t forgive you,” Jayfeather mewed. “Everything I said is still true. But I’m a medicine cat, and I can’t just let a cat die when I could save him. Not even Breezepelt. So here is the burdock root.”

Crowfeather could hardly catch his breath. “Th-thank you!” he stammered.

Jayfeather didn’t respond. Turning away, he padded back to his den and disappeared behind the bramble screen. Crowfeather picked up the burdock root from the muddy ground and bounded back toward WindClan territory.

Hang on, Breezepelt, he thought. I’m on my way.

Chapter 33

Nightcloud and Heathertail leaped to their paws as Crowfeather entered the medicine-cat den. Breezepelt was curled up beside them, shifting in an uneasy sleep.

“Well? Did Leafpool have burdock root?” Nightcloud demanded.

“I saw Jayfeather, not Leafpool,” Crowfeather replied, dropping the root in front of Kestrelflight. “He gave me the root.” No need to tell them how he gave it to me.

Instantly Kestrelflight seized the burdock root and began chewing it into a pulp. Once he had some ready, he spread it on the swollen stoat bite and bound it in place with a cobweb.