Eclipse

Jaypaw began to turn over each leaf, sniffing them closely and throwing to one side any that were no longer fresh or fragrant enough. Leafpool worked beside him, tearing coltsfoot and rolling it into bundles.

“I haven’t had a chance to ask you since you got back,” Leafpool began. “How was the journey?”

“It was okay.” Jaypaw remembered the terrifying jump over the gap in the steep mountain path, not knowing where he would land, or how far was the drop below him. He shivered.

“What did you think of the Tribe?” Leafpool had met them on the Great Journey.

“They were odd.” Jaypaw tried to fix on what he had found strangest about the mountain cats. “The mountains are tough.

I thought the cats would be too, but they had no idea how to fight off the invaders.” They’re like a Clan in hiding from something.

Jaypaw had pitied the Tribe, huddled in their cave behind their waterfall, always glancing nervously over their shoulders for danger. Even their ancestors had seemed fearful. “I met the Tribe of Endless Hunting,” he ventured.

Leafpool kept on with her work. But the coltsfoot in her paws grew more fragrant, as though her pads were twitching with unease. “What were they like?” she mewed.

“They’re a bit like StarClan.” They had known I would come.

They knew about the prophecy. “But they didn’t try to help the Tribe to beat the invaders.”

“Sometimes even our ancestors are powerless to help us.”

Leafpool sighed.

“But it was like they were lost.” Jaypaw couldn’t shake the idea that the Tribe hadn’t always lived in the mountains; that they had lived far away from the bitter winds and craggy peaks, among cats who were the first to know about the prophecy of three.

Leafpool had paused in her task, and he could sense her watching him, curiosity flashing from her pelt.

“I was surprised Stoneteller was leader and medicine cat,” he mewed before she could ask any more questions about the Tribe of Endless Hunting.

“It’s a lot of responsibility for one cat,” Leafpool agreed.

She began rolling the coltsfoot again. “Great knowledge can be lonely.”

Jaypaw’s heart lurched. Does she mean the prophecy? Does she know? She can’t! She would have said something. His heart began to slow as he reassured himself that Leafpool would never be able to ignore a secret like that. Nevertheless, he tried to search her thoughts for some clue. The usual fog barred his way. He could sense only wistfulness engulfing her like a cloud. She might not know about the prophecy, but something was troubling her.

Why did she often seem so unhappy? He wanted to cheer her up. “Can I get you some fresh-kill?” he offered.

“No.” Leafpool gave herself a small shake, as though banishing her thoughts. “But you can start putting the comfrey back in storage.”

As Jaypaw backed in through the cleft with a wad of comfrey between his jaws, a voice sounded at the entrance.

“Leafpool?”

Jaypaw recognized Cloudtail.

“You’re here.” The warrior sounded relieved to find Leafpool in her den.

Jaypaw stayed where he was. He could busy himself rolling and stacking the comfrey at the back of the cleft while Leafpool and Cloudtail talked.

“Are you hurt?” Leafpool asked.

“No.” Cloudtail was pacing the cave. “I’m worried about Cinderpaw.”

Jaypaw pricked his ears. So far, only he and Leafpool knew that Cinderpaw had lived before as ThunderClan’s medicine cat, Cinderpelt; that she had been given a second chance to live her life as she had always dreamed—as a warrior of ThunderClan. Cinderpaw herself didn’t realize. But she sometimes showed flashes of knowledge that only memory could have taught her, and she talked about the old forest as though she had seen it with her own eyes. Was Cloudtail beginning to suspect that there was something unusual about his apprentice?

“Is she okay?” Leafpool’s breathing had quickened with his own.

Jaypaw leaned closer to the opening.

“Do you think she’s ready for her final assessment?” Cloudtail asked in a rush. “Honeypaw and Poppypaw are, but I don’t want to put Cinderpaw through the test unless her leg is fully recovered.”

Leafpool hesitated.

Why isn’t she answering? Alarmed, Jaypaw groped for her thoughts. This time he was determined to make it through the fog. His breath caught in his throat. A memory lit Leafpool’s mind, a memory so strong that it couldn’t be hidden.

Walls of rock enclosed a snow-filled ravine. At once Jaypaw recognized the old forest camp he had visited in Cinderpaw’s dream. Snow blanketed the dens and bushes, but a hollow had been cleared in the center, and here limped a gray she-cat, tail down, whiskers white with frost. She was so thin Jaypaw could see her bones like the branches of a leafless tree. A biting wind sent flurries of powdery snow scudding across the makeshift clearing. Jaypaw shivered with cold, caught in Leafpool’s memory like fur in a thistle.