Eclipse

Jaypaw felt a prickle of annoyance. Daisy only ever worried about her kits. The rest of her Clanmates could starve, for all she cared. It was obvious she wasn’t Clanborn. Firestar’s announcement that WindClan were definitely stealing prey had set the camp fizzing with worry and excitement. The remains of the blackbird lay in the center of the clearing where Brackenfur had dropped it.

Daisy swept her bushy tail around Rosekit and Toadkit.

“Get off!” Toadkit’s tiny gray paws scraped against the ground as he struggled out of his mother’s clutches.

Good for you! Jaypaw padded away from the nursery, where he had been checking on Millie.

“We need to teach them a lesson about boundaries,” Thornclaw growled.

Dustpelt’s tail swished over the ground. “I hope I meet Onestar in battle,” he growled. “He’s stolen from us too many times, the fox-hearted thief.”

Mousefur was pacing outside the elders’ den. “WindClan have changed so much since Tallstar was leader,” she meowed wistfully.

Firestar was standing on Highledge with Brackenfur at his side, still panting after his dash through the forest. “There’ll be extra patrols,” he reassured his Clan, “including a predawn patrol to protect our prey.”

His voice was steady, but Jaypaw could feel waves of anxiety pulsing from him, bouncing off the walls of the hollow like distant thunder.

WindClan! Jaypaw bristled. They might be struggling to feed their Clan, but stealing was the cowardly solution. Onestar was a leader of warriors. How could he make thieves of his Clan?

He padded back to his den, relieved to find that Leafpool was gone. She must have left the camp to search for herbs. He wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t asked him to join her. Since their argument, they had spoken only when necessary. Why did she have to be so obsessed with making Cinderpaw a warrior? She was just being stubborn. And Cinderpaw still lay in the den, a constant reminder of their quarrel.

As he nosed his way in through the brambles, a voice called weakly to him from inside.

“Can you fetch me some water?”

Cinderpaw hadn’t even tried to leave her nest since she’d been brought in. Not even when Firestar had summoned the Clan to share the news about WindClan’s prey-stealing.

“You can drink from the pool yourself,” he mewed crossly.

There was a moment’s silence, then, “Please!”

How could she beg like that? She was almost a warrior! Jaypaw padded to her nest and leaned in till he felt his whiskers brush hers. “Your leg’s going to be fine,” he snapped. “But only if you use it!”

“But what if it isn’t?” Cinderpaw mewed pitifully.

As she spoke, Jaypaw’s mind filled with a violent swirl of images and noise. His heart seemed to pitch in his chest like a leaf tossed on waves. He was standing on a thin strip of grass, a Thunderpath as wide as the lake stretching in front of him. A roar filled his ears, and he crouched in terror as a silver monster hurtled by, so close its wind flattened his fur.

Another roared in the opposite direction. His eyes stung with their choking scent as monster after monster howled by.

Suddenly one broke from its path, careering toward him.

He struggled to flee, but his paws wouldn’t grip the slippery grass. Then a lightning bolt of pain pierced his leg and the world turned black.

He blinked open his eyes. Brightness flooded his gaze, sharper than sunlight. Ferns sprang around him, and the ground was soft with fragrant grass. He was lying in a glade, the clear blue sky glittering through the leaves overhead.

Squinting, he recognized Bluestar and Yellowfang muttering together near the entrance to a narrow tunnel. Every now and then one of them would steal an anxious glance toward him.

A dull pain throbbed in his leg and when he tried to move, it felt limp and lifeless.

“You’re doing really well.” Firestar was leaning over him, his face framed with soft fur like that of a much younger cat.

His green eyes were round with grief. “No, you’ll never be a warrior,” he whispered suddenly. “I’m sorry.”

This is Cinderpelt’s memory! Jaypaw fought the pain that seemed to crack his heart. Despair and panic clawed his belly. I’ve lost everything. Everything!

“Jaypaw!” Cinderpaw’s worried mew jolted Jaypaw back to the present.

“I thought you didn’t know…” Jaypaw breathed, trying to scrabble back to his own reality.

“Know what?” Cinderpaw sounded puzzled.

“Cinderpelt…” Jaypaw began unsteadily. He paused, feeling Cinderpaw’s whiskers brush his paws.

“She was the medicine cat before Leafpool, right?” she prompted.

“What’s going on?” Leafpool burst into the den. “What are you talking about?”

Jaypaw turned, battered by the storm of fear and anger flooding from his mentor. “She knows about Cinderpelt,” he breathed.

The moss in Cinderpaw’s nest rustled. “Knows what?”

But Jaypaw hardly heard the apprentice. He could feel Leafpool’s hot breath on his face.

“She does not know,” she hissed. “She must never know, understand?”