Spottedpaw stopped to catch her breath and wondered why she had ever wanted to be a medicine cat. Goosefeather had coughed himself hoarse and was demanding freshly soaked moss, which meant a slippery walk to a rivulet that had formed from recent rain near the top of the ravine. Spottedpaw had lost count of how many bundles of moss she had carried back from the tiny stream; she was close to telling all the elders to sit in the clearing with their mouths open next time it rained, to save her some time.

As she trudged back down the path, she saw Tawnyspots emerge from the dirtplace.

“Must have eaten a dodgy blackbird!” he mewed.

But Spottedpaw looked at his hollow flanks and the way each step made him flinch, and knew he was much sicker than that. Cats had started wondering how long he would be able to stay as deputy, and how soon Sunstar would appoint Thistleclaw instead. Spottedpaw braced her shoulders to push through the gorse and reminded herself to count out the herb supplies again, to see if there was any way of boosting them with the leaves that were available now.

“Spottedpaw! Did you bring me back a treat?” Mosskit bounced up on paws that seemed too big for her.

“And me! And me!” mewed Mistykit, trotting after her sister. Her stubby tail stuck straight up in the air and her dark gray fur was fluffed up around her ears. “Come on, Stonekit! Spottedpaw’s brought us a treat!”

Spottedpaw put down the sodden lump of moss as the little cats bounced around her. Bluefur’s kits were a moon old now, and growing fast in spite of the cold.

Stonekit stuck his nose into the moss and jumped back, shaking droplets from his muzzle. “Wet moss is a yucky treat!” he complained.

“That’s because it’s not meant for you,” Spottedpaw meowed, picking up the moss before any more kits attacked it, and carrying it to the elders’ den. Goosefeather was lying on his side in his nest, breathing laboriously. He started lapping at the moss at once, lashing his tail when Mumblefoot tried to crouch alongside to share it.

“I’ll get some more,” Spottedpaw promised wearily.

As she headed back across the clearing, she passed Thrushpelt, who was staggering under the weight of a plump squirrel.

“Good catch!” Spottedpaw called.

“Is that for us?” squeaked Mistykit, racing over to sniff at the squirrel. A piece of fur stuck to her muzzle and she sneezed.

“That’s a real treat!” mewed Stonekit.

“Of course it’s for you,” Thrushpelt purred. “Is there any cat more important to feed than you?”

Mosskit shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she replied with a serious expression in her blue eyes. “The warrior code says kits and elders have to be fed first. And that’s us!”

Bluefur padded over from the tree stump, where she had been talking to Rosetail. “Actually, I just fed them,” she mewed to Thrushpelt. “You can put that squirrel on the fresh-kill pile.”

“That’s not fair!” wailed Mistykit. “Thrushpelt said he caught it for us!”

“I’m your mother,” Bluefur meowed. “If I say you’ve had enough to eat, then you have.”

Spottedpaw waited for Thrushpelt to remind Bluefur that he was their father, and if he wanted to catch fresh-kill for them, that was his right. But Thrushpelt said nothing, simply picked up the squirrel with a murmured apology to the kits and carried it away.

“That’s not fair!” Stonekit pouted, turning his back on Bluefur.

“Life isn’t fair,” Bluefur retorted, but her attention was drifting away and her gaze was fixed on the gorse tunnel.

Thistleclaw was returning at the head of a border patrol, with Tigerclaw bouncing beside him. Their pelts were fluffed up and Tigerclaw’s muzzle bore signs of claw marks.

“Those kittypets won’t be coming back into ThunderClan territory again!” Thistleclaw declared. “Tigerclaw will be picking their fur from his claws for the next moon!”

Sunstar pricked his ears from where he sat beneath Highledge. “More intruders?” he asked. “I renewed the scent markers beside Twolegplace yesterday. I can’t believe those kittypets have crossed them already!”

“Don’t worry,” Thistleclaw assured him. “Our borders are safe now.”

The rest of his patrol entered the clearing, and Spottedpaw noticed that Fuzzypelt was limping. She went over to the black warrior and asked if he was okay.

Fuzzypelt twitched his ears. “It’s nothing. Just a splinter.”

“Let me have a look.” Spottedpaw steered him to the edge of the clearing and bent down to study his paw. Sure enough, a shard of wood was stuck in the soft part of his pad. “I can get this out, but it might sting a bit,” she mewed. Before Fuzzypelt could object, she gripped the tip of the splinter in her teeth and tugged it free.

“Ow!” Fuzzypelt jumped backward, but then tested his paw on the ground and nodded. “Much better. Thanks, Spottedpaw.”

Spottedpaw was studying the splinter. It was very pale and straight, and had a strong, distinctive smell. This hadn’t come from a tree or a fallen branch. “Where did you get this?” she meowed.

Fuzzypelt shrugged. “I don’t know, somewhere in the forest, I guess.” He sounded evasive, and when Spottedpaw looked up at him, he wouldn’t meet her eye.

“I recognize this scent,” she murmured. “You got this splinter from a Twoleg fence, didn’t you? Did Thistleclaw lead a patrol into Twolegplace looking for kittypets?” She felt cold beneath her pelt.

Fuzzypelt’s yellow eyes filled with confusion. “He said we weren’t to say anything. Those kittypets need to be taught a lesson! They keep crossing our borders!”

“But they didn’t cross them today,” Spottedpaw pointed out. “Not since Sunstar renewed the scent markers. Thistleclaw should not have gone into Twoleg territory.”

“No harm done,” Fuzzypelt mewed uneasily.

“I wonder if the kittypet whose fur is underneath Tigerclaw’s claws would agree.”

Fuzzypelt backed away, looking relieved when Thistleclaw summoned him to the fresh-kill pile.

“My warriors need to eat!” the gray-and-white warrior declared.

“They are not his warriors,” growled a voice beside Spottedpaw.

She jumped, and turned to see Bluefur beside her, scowling at Thistleclaw. “He took that patrol into Twolegplace, didn’t he?” the gray she-cat hissed. “That was not his decision to make!”

“Are you going to tell Sunstar?” Spottedpaw asked.

Bluefur lashed her tail. “What would be the point? Ever since our victory in the battle with RiverClan, which Thistleclaw claims he fought single-pawed, Sunstar listens to everything he says. You know he’s taken over organizing all the patrols now?”

Spottedpaw meowed, “We’re going to have to get used to him being in charge. Sunstar is bound to make him our next deputy.”

Bluefur’s eyes darkened. “Not if I can help it,” she rasped, and Spottedpaw flinched.

She gestured with her tail to where Stonekit, Mosskit, and Mistykit were playing pounce with a dead leaf. “Thistleclaw can’t be that important to you,” she urged. “You have three other lives to think about now!”

To her astonishment, Bluefur’s eyes clouded with sorrow. “I love them so much,” she murmured. “But I love my Clan, too. I could never wish they hadn’t been born, but why now? What if my Clan needs me more than they do?”

Spottedpaw froze. Had Bluefur intended for her to hear that? The queen sounded so desperate, so lonely, but Spottedpaw couldn’t bring herself to ask what she meant. Instead, she mewed, “You are not alone, Bluefur. Thrushpelt will always help you to care for your kits.”

The queen looked at her, though her gaze seemed focused on something beyond Spottedpaw. “I cannot ask more of him than I already have.”

But he’s their father! The words stuck in Spottedpaw’s throat. Was Bluefur about to tell her that wasn’t true?

Bluefur sighed. “Love can lead a cat so far astray that it becomes too late to turn back,” she whispered.

Spottedpaw thought of how she had fallen for Thistleclaw, how her foolish heart had been blind to his cruelty and his ambition until she watched him kill a cat in the Dark Forest. “It’s never too late!” she blurted out. “You can always change the path you follow!”

Bluefur stared at her kits, who had finished demolishing the dead leaf and were now stalking the tip of Mumblefoot’s tail. “I have a decision to make,” she mewed softly. “But I am filled with too much love, and too much fear.”

“What do you mean?” Spottedpaw pressed. “Can I help?”

The queen shook her head. “No. This is something I must do alone.”

She padded away, not to her kits but to the gorse tunnel. Spottedpaw watched her leave, her belly heavy with dread. Bluefur sounded as if she was about to choose between life and death, she had been so serious. What was she going to do?

A full, gleaming moon hung over the trees, turning the snow-covered ground silver. The air in the camp crackled with tension as warriors circled, ready to set off for the Gathering. Spottedpaw was staying behind to watch over Tawnyspots, who had weakened so much that Featherwhisker ordered him to sleep in the medicine den. She stood among the ferns at the edge of the clearing, watching her mentor talk quietly to Sunstar.

“Spottedpaw, can I ask you a favor?” It was Bluefur, her eyes huge and anxious. Her breath hung in a cloud around her muzzle.

“Of course. Are the kits all right?”

“They’re fine. I wore them out today with a game of hide-and-seek, so they should sleep till dawn.” Bluefur shifted her paws. “I… I want to go to the Gathering tonight. Please, will you check on my kits while I’m away? White-eye said she’d watch them but she has her paws full with Runningkit and Mousekit.”

Spottedpaw blinked. A nursing queen never went to Gatherings, not when her kits still needed her. But there was something desperate in Bluefur’s gaze that made her nod. “Yes, I’ll keep an eye on them,” she meowed.

Bluefur blinked warmly at her. “Thank you, Spottedpaw. I’ll remember this.” She trotted away and her blue-gray pelt merged with the other warriors as they headed into the gorse.

Spottedpaw made sure that Tawnyspots was comfortable and gave him another mint leaf to chew. Mercifully she had found a fresh plant near the river that had been sheltered from the worst of the snow. The leaves would ease Tawnyspots’s bellyache, though Spottedpaw knew there was little more that she and Featherwhisker could do to help him.

When Tawnyspots had finished his leaf and was dozing with his chin propped on the edge of his nest, Spottedpaw trotted over to the nursery. Her paws crunched in the snow, and the bitter cold stung her pads. She poked her head through the brambles and was relieved to see that all the kits, and White-eye, were fast asleep, tiny snores filling the air. The nursery was warm and milk-scented, and for a moment Spottedpaw was tempted to creep in and curl up among the kits. But she wouldn’t sleep tonight, at least not until Featherwhisker returned. She was the sole medicine cat in the Clan, and all the cats here were in her charge. Puffing out her fur, Spottedpaw headed back to her den to wait out the night.

The cats returned just before dawn, quiet and hunched from the cold. Spottedpaw nodded to them as they trooped into the clearing and headed for their dens. Bluefur stopped beside her. Her eyes were clear, and she seemed much calmer now.

“Have you decided what to do?” Spottedpaw asked.

Bluefur nodded. “I have made my choice.” She walked away without saying anything, and Spottedpaw wondered if she would ever know what that decision had been.

Spottedpaw opened her eyes with a start. What was that noise? The sky was filled with stars, hazy in the bitter cold. More snow had fallen since the Gathering, and all around the medicine den the ferns were flattened under the weight of its icy white pelt. Spottedpaw sat up. Was Tawnyspots stirring in his nest? She craned her neck to see, but the deputy seemed to be lying still, breathing loudly but steadily.

The noise came again, a soft rustle and the tiniest murmur. Spottedpaw stepped out of her nest and crept past Featherwhisker and Tawnyspots, thanking StarClan that she hadn’t forgotten how to stalk like a warrior. The clearing was still and silent, every sound muffled by the snow. Spottedpaw padded over to the nursery and listened, but only soft snores came from inside. What had disturbed her?

She turned toward the gorse tunnel. Stormtail was on guard tonight, back to warrior duties now that Featherwhisker had found herbs to help with his thirsting sickness. Spottedpaw decided to check that he was okay in the bitter cold. She pushed through the frosty gorse, shivering as icy thorns brushed the back of her neck. Stormtail jumped when she appeared, then let out a purr.

“I was almost dozing off!” he told her. “It’s so quiet out here.”

“Better than a ShadowClan invasion,” Spottedpaw joked. Suddenly she spotted movement behind Stormtail, halfway up the ravine. Was it a cat? Why weren’t they using the regular path? She peered closer.

Great StarClan, it’s Bluefur and the kits!

What could possibly be happening? Spottedpaw pictured the desperation in Bluefur’s eyes when she talked about her kits, and the decision she had to make. Should she tell Stormtail? He would take Bluefur straight back to the camp. Do I trust Bluefur enough to let her go? Spottedpaw had no doubt that Bluefur loved her kits. Whatever she’s doing, she won’t let any harm come to them.

In the shadows, Bluefur slipped and a twig cracked. Stormtail pricked his ears and began to turn around.

“What’s that?” Spottedpaw pointed with her tail to the other side of the ravine.

Stormtail jumped to his paws and stared into the bushes. “Where?”

Behind her, Spottedpaw heard a tiny rustling sound. Had Bluefur taken her kits out of sight yet? She didn’t dare to turn around.

“Just by that tall tree,” Spottedpaw mewed. She walked over to Stormtail and pretended to peer more closely. “I’m sure I saw something move there. Maybe a fox?”

“I’ll check it out,” Stormtail growled. He padded away, his pelt bristling along his spine.

Spottedpaw stayed where she was, watching Stormtail prowl into the undergrowth. She was desperate to follow Bluefur and find out where she was going, but she couldn’t risk Stormtail seeing her go up the ravine.

The warrior returned, his pelt ruffled from the brambles. “No trace of any scent,” he reported.

“I’m sure I saw something,” Spottedpaw persisted. “It was heading farther along the ravine. Why don’t you check that way, and I’ll go up to the top and see if I can spot anything?”

Stormtail nodded and headed back the way he had come. Spottedpaw raced up the path, her feet slipping in the snow. More flakes were falling, making Spottedpaw blink and shake her head. She strained to spot any signs of a trail in the darkness. Which way had they gone?

In the shelter of some brambles, she spotted a faint trail of paw prints, some large and some so tiny she could hardly make them out. It looked as if they had taken the path that led to Sunningrocks. Spottedpaw took a deep breath and started walking through the bracken, lifting each paw high out of the snow and shaking it to get some feeling into her toes. Ice clumped against her belly fur, and her ears stung with cold. I hope the kits are all right!

The night closed silently around her, and Spottedpaw wondered if she had lost them. She pushed her way into a clump of ferns, trying to find some shelter. Then she heard voices up ahead, low and urgent. Spottedpaw peeked through the stalks and made out two bulky shapes on the shore of the frozen river.

One of them turned toward her and she shrank back out of sight. This was Bluefur’s secret to keep. The larger shape started to make its way down the shore with a cluster of tiny shadows stumbling beside it. Spottedpaw gasped. Was Bluefur giving her kits away? Why would she do that?

She could think of only one reason: so that Bluefur could leave the nursery and take over as Clan deputy instead of Thistleclaw. This was a measure of how much she loved her Clanmates, and how much she feared Thistleclaw, even without seeing him in the Dark Forest.

Spottedpaw sighed. Thistleclaw has changed both our destinies, Bluefur. You will never realize how much you and I have in common.

“StarClan, please keep Bluefur’s kits safe. Let them grow bold and strong, and above all else, loved,” Spottedpaw prayed as she crouched among the bracken.

The air stirred around her and a warm, half-familiar scent drifted into her muzzle. Spottedpaw narrowed her eyes and saw the faintest white-furred shape slip through the stalks in front of her.

We will do our best, a voice breathed inside her mind. Thank you for trusting my sister, Spottedpaw.

“Snowfur?” Spottedpaw whispered. “Is that you?” But the ferns around her were still and silent, and the pale shape had vanished into the falling snow.

Bluefur and I will do our best, too, Spottedpaw vowed. I will never be foolish or blind again. Thistleclaw has shown me where my destiny truly lies. From now on, my heart belongs to my Clan.