The Last Hope

Jayfeather blinked. “You don’t think about it?” he echoed. Every time he saw Leafpool or Squirrelflight or Brambleclaw, Jayfeather felt the prick of betrayal. He’d believed he was pure ThunderClan, that his parents were Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw, until Hollyleaf had discovered that Leafpool was their mother and Crowfeather, a WindClan warrior, their father.

Firestar’s tail whisked over the fallen leaves. “You’re one of the Three. Your birth was meant to happen.” He padded closer. “Does it matter how you came to be born?”

“Yes!” Lit by rage, Jayfeather paced around Firestar. “I’m cursed by Leafpool’s mistake! Every cat thinks I’m unnatural because my birth broke two codes—the warrior code and the medicine-cat code! No wonder they’re so eager to think I’m a murderer. They certainly can’t think I’m blessed by StarClan.”

Firestar shifted his paws. “But we both know you are blessed by StarClan. More than any other cat.”

“No thanks to Leafpool!” Jayfeather clawed the ground. “Or Squirrelflight.”

“Leafpool kept your secret,” Firestar reminded him sternly. “She and Squirrelflight did the best they could for you and your littermates. It was Hollyleaf who told the truth. She believed she had to, and now what’s done is done. Squirrelflight and your mother are not responsible for the prejudices of the other Clans. And neither are you.”

“It’s not fair. Why couldn’t Leafpool have just followed the medicine-cat code?” Jayfeather pushed his way deeper into the trees. “It’s not exactly complicated!”

“And if she had?” Firestar called after him. “What then? If she’d never fallen in love with Crowfeather, where would you be? Think of the prophecy!”

Jayfeather raked the leaf mulch with his claws. “Why can’t I think about me for once?” With a growl he stalked away, ducking through ferns and pacing over tree roots until he sensed dusk turn to dark around him. Suddenly he felt a wall of fur blocking his path. He leaped back. “Who is it?”

As he spoke, he recognized the foul stench of Yellowfang’s breath. Her muzzle was less than a mouse-length from his nose. “Why can’t I think about me for once?” she mimicked.

“Leave me alone!” Jayfeather backed away but her stinking muzzle followed him.

“You’re not important!” the old cat hissed. “Only the survival of the Clan matters! You’re one of the Three and you have to find the fourth to defeat the Dark Forest before it’s too late!”

“What do you mean, I’m not important?” Jayfeather spat back. How dare she? “How do you know that I’m not the most important one?” His anger was pulsing so hard that the words flooded out of him. “If the Clans stop me from being a medicine cat, the whole prophecy might be wasted.”

Yellowfang wreathed around him, her matted fur brushing roughly against his. “Do you think herbs are going to save the Clans from the Dark Forest?” she snapped.

“There’s more to being a medicine cat than herbs!” Jayfeather tried to push past her but she blocked his way.

“Like what?”

“Like sharing dreams with StarClan!”

Yellowfang’s tail swished the ferns. “What do you think you’re doing now, mouse-brain?”

Jayfeather growled. “Why are you bugging me?”

“You need to find the fourth warrior!”

“We don’t know it’s a warrior!” Jayfeather snapped. “We don’t know which Clan this cat is in. We don’t even know it is a cat!”

“Stop making excuses! You haven’t even told the others there is a fourth cat, have you?”

Jayfeather’s ears twitched guiltily. Memory swept his mind clear and suddenly he was back on a dark, windswept mountaintop. The Tribe of Endless Hunting surrounded him, their eyes glowing with hope. Stonetellers from ages past whispered the words that still echoed in his thoughts.

The end of the stars draws near. Three must become four to challenge the darkness that lasts forever.

“You haven’t told them,” Yellowfang repeated.

“No.” Jayfeather sat down. “I’ve been waiting for the right time.”

“Really?” Yellowfang sounded unconvinced. “I think the truth is that you don’t want there to be a fourth cat. You can’t bear the thought that you need help.”

“That’s not true!” Jayfeather’s pelt burned. How did she guess?

“Then why keep the Tribe’s prophecy a secret when you know time is running out?”

Jayfeather closed his eyes, suddenly weary. “Aren’t our powers enough to save the Clans?”

Yellowfang’s pelt brushed his. “You’re facing the Dark Forest! You need all the help you can get! Find the fourth cat!”

“Okay!” Jayfeather snapped. “But where do I look?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you.” Yellowfang pushed away through the ferns.

“Wait!” Jayfeather dashed after her. A bramble tripped him and he stumbled. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Haven’t I done enough?” Yellowfang kept walking.