by Erin Hunter
“Just a bit!” Fallen Leaves exploded. “What did you think would happen? That he’d take you to his den to meet his mother?”
Hollyleaf shrugged. “I was so lonely,” she murmured. “I just wanted a friend.”
In an instant Fallen Leaves was crouched beside her, pressing his fur against hers. “And you have a friend,” he insisted. “Right here. Now, I’ve been awfully lazy about doing patrols while you were away. Should we start with a check of the tunnels—just in case that cub thinks about following you—and then see if you can remember how to catch a fish?”
Later, when the holes in the roof were dark and Hollyleaf’s paws were aching from running on stone, she lay in her nest of feathers and felt the pain of loneliness ease. She let out a purr, and Fallen Leaves stirred beside her.
“What are you thinking about?” he murmured.
“How glad I am that I came back,” Hollyleaf answered honestly. “I’m not cut out to live alone, I guess.”
Fallen Leaves licked her ear. “I’m glad you came back, too.”
Hollyleaf swiveled around to face him. “Do you ever think about the cats you left behind?”
“All the time,” Fallen Leaves meowed softly. “But it’s been so long, I don’t remember that much.”
Hollyleaf blinked. She’d been away from ThunderClan for several moons but she hadn’t forgotten a thing. “How many seasons have you been in the tunnels?”
Fallen Leaves shrugged and turned his face away. “More than I can count. But it’s too late to change anything now.”
Hollyleaf knew better than to suggest he go looking for his old community again. Instead, she settled herself more comfortably against his flank and prompted, “Tell me about your family. You must remember them.”
“My mother was called Broken Shadow. She was very kind and beautiful. She... she didn’t want me to go into the tunnels. I think she knew something bad would happen.”
“Couldn’t she stop you?” Hollyleaf asked.
“Not if I was going to be a sharpclaw,” Fallen Leaves replied. “That’s what I wanted, more than anything.” He trailed off, sounding achingly sad. Then he shook himself. “That’s all a long way in the past. What about your mother? Did you tell her you were leaving the Clan?”
Hollyleaf started slicing one of the feathers with her claw. “Not exactly,” she muttered.
Fallen Leaves stiffened. “You mean, she has no idea where you are? What if she thinks you’re dead?”
“It’s probably best if she does,” Hollyleaf whispered. As she spoke, she wondered which cat she was referring to: Leafpool, her real mother; or Squirrelflight, the cat who had raised her. “It’s complicated,” she confessed. “I... I have two mothers.”
Behind her, she sensed Fallen Leaves prick up his ears. “Two?”
“My real mother, Leafpool, is a medicine cat. She’s not supposed to have kits but she ran away with Crowfeather from WindClan, and when she came back, she gave birth to me and my brothers. To hide what she’d done, she gave us to her sister, Squirrelflight, who pretended we were her kits. Even Squirrelflight’s mate, Brambleclaw, thought he was our father!”
Fallen Leaves was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, “Do you think Squirrelflight loved you?”
“Oh yes,” Hollyleaf mewed. “I mean, she fussed over us all the time, just like the other queens in the nursery. But she lied to us! She only told us the truth when another cat forced her to.”
“What about... Leafpool, is it? How did she act toward you?”
Hollyleaf sighed. “She always took an interest in us, but I thought it was because Squirrelflight was her sister. I was her apprentice for a while, in the medicine den, but then I decided to train as a warrior instead. I liked working with her; it just wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”
“And Leafpool knows that you found out the truth?” Fallen Leaves asked.
“Yes,” meowed Hollyleaf, wincing as she recalled her final, furious confrontation with the ThunderClan medicine cat. “I... I told her she deserved to die for what she had done, but she said the worst pain of all was having to live with it.” Hollyleaf stopped talking and looked down at the splinters of feather at her feet.
“It seems to me,” Fallen Leaves began carefully, “that both of these cats loved you very much. Surely two mothers are better than none? And whatever you did before you came here, they must both hope that you are alive and safe.”
“I guess,” Hollyleaf admitted. She shoved the feather splinters out of the nest. “But how can they live with all these secrets? The truth is all that matters!”
“Not always,” mewed Fallen Leaves. “Perhaps those cats believed they were doing the right thing for you and your brothers. You can’t punish them for loving you too much, Hollyleaf.”
He patted her shoulder with his paw, and Hollyleaf lay down again. She couldn’t deny that Fallen Leaves was right: Squirrelflight and Leafpool had loved her. But everything had been complicated by secrets and lies—and by the fact that Hollyleaf had killed Ashfur to keep him from telling everyone. But then I realized it would never stay secret, so I told all the Clans at the Gathering. Ashfur’s death had been for nothing, and Hollyleaf had had no choice but to leave.
Outside, the weather turned even colder. There were fewer fish in the underground river so Hollyleaf made forays into the woods, leaving the tunnels just long enough to catch a mouse or squirrel and once a rather scrawny pigeon. Fallen Leaves never went with her; he had been out a few times, he said, to gather herbs when Hollyleaf first entered the tunnels, but he didn’t feel like he belonged there. Hollyleaf’s heart always twisted with sadness when she saw her friend’s ginger-and-white face peeking from the shadows, watching anxiously as she hunted. Fallen Leaves seemed to view the tunnels as his home and his prison equally. Did he really believe it was too late to find his family?
Hollyleaf always kept an eye out for the fox cub or his mother, but she saw nothing larger than the pigeon among the snowy trees, and only once a trace of snow-filled tracks leading down to the pine copse. She swerved in the opposite direction, using the scent of yarrow to lead her swiftly back to the mouth of the tunnel. There was a little clump growing just outside the entrance, defying the snow with its furry green leaves.
Every time Hollyleaf went outside, she found herself listening for signs of the cats on the other side of the ridge. Were her Clanmates managing to find enough prey in the snow? Were the elders strong and fit? Several times her paws seemed to lead her up to the top of the ridge without her noticing, until she was barely fox-lengths away from the ThunderClan border. But the thought of coming face-to-face with one of her former Clanmates made the blood freeze in her veins, and each time Hollyleaf whirled around at the last moment and ran back down to where Fallen Leaves was waiting for her.
After a quarter moon the snow clouds lifted, leaving a clear sky and crisp, still air. Hollyleaf buried herself in her nest, trying to get warm, but her mind was full of what might be happening in the hollow. She sat up, knowing she wasn’t going to sleep now. The tunnel was filled with silvery light, so bright it was almost like sunshine. Hollyleaf stepped out of her nest and trotted along the passage to the river-cave. It was empty, apart from dazzling light that beamed into every corner and turned the river white. Hollyleaf tipped back her head and strained to look through the hole in the roof. Far, far above, a perfect round moon drifted across the sky. It was a cold night for a Gathering. Hollyleaf pictured the cats huddling together in the hollow, steam rising from their muzzles as they listened to each leader speak.
“You miss your Clanmates, don’t you?” murmured Fallen Leaves behind her.
Hollyleaf jumped. She hadn’t heard him enter the cave. “I just want to know that they’re okay,” she mewed, feeling a flash of guilt. “Leaf-bare can be so hard in the Clans, and with all this snow, they might not have found enough to eat.”
Fallen Leaves held up one paw to stop her. “So go and see them.”
“I can’t! They have to believe I’m gone forever!”
“Visit them without being seen, if that’s what you want,” Fallen Leaves suggested. “You can’t spend all your time watching the moon, and wondering.”
Hollyleaf flinched. Perhaps he was right. She knew her old territory well enough to stay hidden. If she could just make sure ThunderClan was surviving the harsh season, she would be able to sleep again.
CHAPTER 8
Hollyleaf felt as though a swarm of bees were buzzing in each of her paws as soon as she decided to go back to ThunderClan in secret, but she forced herself to wait a quarter moon until the sky was less brightly lit. Just before dawn, when the night was at its darkest point, Fallen Leaves led her to a tunnel that wasn’t much wider than a rabbit hole. This was one of the few remaining clear entrances to ThunderClan. Hollyleaf tried to thank him again before she squeezed into the last section, but he turned away before she could say anything and was quickly swallowed up by the shadows.
I’ll come back, I promise! Hollyleaf called after him silently.
Hollyleaf crouched down and wriggled into the tiny hole. The roof scraped her ears and for a moment she felt as if she were being buried alive. Her heart sped up in panic and her breath came in shallow gasps, but she kept dragging herself forward with her front paws.
Suddenly fresh air burst onto her face, and the sound of branches whispering in the wind filled her ears. Hollyleaf stood up, drinking in the familiar scents of cats and trails and border markers. She was home!
No! This is not my home now.
Shaking dirt from her fur, Hollyleaf trotted into a patch of ferns and circled a lone oak tree. After checking to make sure there were no cats out on night patrol, she crossed a narrow trail that ran along the top of the cliff. Hollyleaf told herself she was trembling from cold, but she could smell fear on her pelt and she knew she was terrified of being discovered. When an owl flapped noisily from a branch overhead, she nearly fell over with fright. She ducked into a clump of brambles and pushed her way through until she emerged at the very edge of the cliff. She crouched down and peered over.
The hollow was thick with shadows and Hollyleaf couldn’t make out any individual dens, but something felt wrong. The noise of the wind echoing off the cliffs was different, and the black shapes below weren’t the same as she remembered. It was as if trees had grown inside the camp since she left, full-branched and heavy with brittle leaves. That was impossible!
As she stared, a line of yellow light appeared above the ridge behind her. Dawn was breaking, and it thinned the shadows just enough for Hollyleaf to see a huge tree filling the hollow—not growing, but lying on its side with its roots crumpled in the corner where the medicine den was. Hollyleaf stiffened in horror. If a tree that big had fallen from the top of the cliff, it must have crushed cats beneath it! It was lying directly on top of the warriors’ and elders’ dens. How could something so terrible have happened to her Clan, yet she had known nothing about it? Couldn’t StarClan have told her in a dream?
Perhaps StarClan has disowned me, now that I’m no longer part of a Clan.
Hollyleaf realized she was shaking so much, she was in danger of slipping over the edge. She backed away a little, just as the branches of the fallen tree quivered and two cats stepped gingerly into the cold air. Their breath formed clouds around the muzzles.
“I can go to the dirtplace on my own,” Mousefur was grumbling. The air was so still that her voice reached Hollyleaf all the way on top of the cliff.
“I know you can,” Purdy rasped. “But there’s no harm in having company, is there?”
“I don’t seem to have any choice,” Mousefur muttered as the old brown tom ushered her across the clearing and into the brambles that filled the entrance to the hollow.
Hollyleaf leaned forward, feeling a thrill of delight. My Clanmates!
“Briarlight!” called a voice from the medicine den. “I can bring you something to eat if you’re hungry. There’s no need to fetch it yourself.” It was Jayfeather, sounding as if he’d just woken up.
“I still have two legs that work,” came the reply, as a dark brown she-cat emerged from beneath the tangled roots.
Briarkit? Hollyleaf stared in disbelief as the young cat dragged herself over the ground with her front paws, while her hind legs trailed uselessly behind her. Millie burst out of the middle of the fallen branches.
“What are you doing? You only went this far yesterday! You should be resting!” she scolded.
Briarlight—Jayfeather had used her warrior name, although she clearly wasn’t going on any patrols—swerved to avoid her mother. “I’m fine,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “You can’t do everything for me!”
Millie bent down and licked her daughter’s ears. “I wish I could,” she murmured.
How had Briarlight been so badly hurt? Had it been when the tree fell? I should have been here! Hollyleaf sank her claws into the crumbling soil at the edge of the cliff. A few tiny stones were dislodged and clattered down into the clearing. Hollyleaf froze.
A familiar dark tabby pelt emerged from the branches. Brambleclaw looked up toward Hollyleaf’s hiding place, his eyes narrowing. She shrank back and held her breath. Then she heard him call, “Lionblaze? Cinderheart? Take the border patrol around the top of the hollow, will you? Dovepaw and Ivypaw can go with you.”
There was the sound of cats gathering below. Hollyleaf risked one more glance over the edge. Her heart nearly broke when she saw her brother Lionblaze circling around Cinderheart, the tip of his tail tracing her soft gray fur. Dovepaw and Ivypaw—they had been tiny kits when Hollyleaf left, and now they were strong, confident-looking apprentices!—bounced around them looking eager to be out on patrol.
“Did Brambleclaw hear a fox?” Ivypaw asked excitedly.
Dovepaw had tipped her head to one side and was looking thoughtful. “I don’t think so,” she mewed.
Lionblaze started to lead them toward the barrier of thorns. Hollyleaf knew she had to leave. She just hoped her pelt still held enough ThunderClan scent that she couldn’t be tracked back to the tunnel. Luckily the ferns were soaking wet from frost-melt, which made them less likely to hold traces of her. She pushed her way through, wincing as the cold water pierced through to her skin, then raced for the tunnel. She could hear Lionblaze bringing the patrol up the side of the hollow. Ivypaw was running ahead, reporting back on every bush and bramble that she sniffed.
“Nothing here! No fox came this way!”
Hollyleaf paused for a moment, suddenly wild with hope that they would find her and take her back to the Clan. Surely she was missed in some small way? Then she thought of everything that had happened, the truth that Leafpool, Jayfeather, and Lionblaze had discovered, and she knew the Clan was better off without her. With a tiny sigh, she ducked into the narrow hole and let the shadows engulf her.
“And then I saw Briarkit—well, she’s Briarlight now—and she’s lost the use of her hind legs! She was dragging herself on her belly across the clearing. Maybe the tree fell on her. I should have been there to help!” Hollyleaf stopped to take a breath, aware that she hadn’t stopped talking since she returned.
From his seat beside the river, Fallen Leaves looked at her. It was a gloomy day and there was barely any light filtering into the cave, but Hollyleaf could see his eyes shining faintly. “You couldn’t have stopped the tree from falling,” he pointed out. “Anyway, you chose to leave, remember?”
Hollyleaf scraped her paw over the stone. “It didn’t feel like I had a choice at the time,” she murmured. “I... I haven’t told you everything about what happened. It wasn’t just that I found out about Squirrelflight and Leafpool lying to me. Another cat found out as well, a cat called Ashfur. He threatened to tell all the Clans the truth so I... so I killed him.”
There was a long silence. Hollyleaf risked glancing up at Fallen Leaves. He was staring into the river. “Did the Clan send you away when they found out?” Fallen Leaves asked quietly.
“No! They never knew! Only Leafpool found out, and then I told Jayfeather and Lionblaze. I wanted them to know why I had to leave.”
“But you could go back,” Fallen Leaves meowed, suddenly lifting his gaze. “Your brothers and Leafpool love you too much to tell the truth about Ashfur. Your secret will still be safe.”
“You don’t know that!” Hollyleaf wailed.
“I think I do,” Fallen Leaves argued. “Everything you’ve told me proves how important you were to your kin.”
“You don’t understand,” Hollyleaf mewed wretchedly. “Too much has happened. The Clan doesn’t need me anymore.”
Fallen Leaves turned away. “Your Clan will always need you,” he whispered as he padded into the shadows.
Hollyleaf managed to wait for three more quarter moons before going back to her spying place above the hollow. Snow had fallen again, turned to silver sparkles by the harsh frost. Hollyleaf crouched among the brittle grass, shivering, and watched the Clan slowly wake up below her. Brambleclaw sent a patrol of sleepy warriors to check the WindClan border. Hollyleaf was startled by how thin her Clanmates looked. She searched the clearing for any sign of a fresh-kill pile, but there were only a few scraps of fur and feathers beside the tree trunk. Prey must be scarce after such a long spell of harsh weather.
There was a scrabble of movement at the far end of the fallen tree, where the prickly nursery walls were just visible. Poppyfrost’s voice rose up, high with frustration.
“Cherrykit! You’re not going outside with that cough! Molekit, bring your sister back at once!”
Two tiny, fluffed-up shapes burst out of the brambles and scooted across the clearing. The ginger she-cat in front stopped as her little body was racked with coughs, and her cream-and-brown littermate skidded to a halt beside her. “You can’t come out to play today,” he mewed. “You know what Poppyfrost said.”
A tortoiseshell she-cat slid through the wall of the nursery and bent over the ginger kit. “Come on, little one,” Poppyfrost murmured. “Back to the nest with you.”