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know you will,” Squirrelflight assured her. “Why don’t you go and visit Jaykit? I’m sure he’d love some company.”
    “Can I go too?” Lionkit begged.
    “I don’t know if he’s well enough for both of you,”
    Squirrelflight meowed. “You can go later. But don’t forget to tell Daisy or Ferncloud before you leave the nursery. That’s what Firestar said, remember?”
    Lionkit lashed his short tail but didn’t answer. Instead he stalked toward the nursery.
    “I’ll tell Jaykit you said hi!” Hollykit called after him.
    “Whatever,” Lionkit grumbled, not looking back.
    Hollykit nosed her way through the brambles into the shadows of Leafpool’s den. Jaykit was lying by the pool at one side of the den. He turned his jay-feather blue eyes on her as she entered.
    “Hi, Hollykit.” His mew sounded tired. His pelt was slicked flat with poultices, making him look as small as a newborn kit. Hollykit felt a stab of pain. He had nearly died.
    Jaykit flicked his tail. “There’s no need to feel so sorry for me,” he mewed.
    Hollykit blinked. How was it that her brother always knew exactly what she was feeling? Sometimes it could be so annoying to have him sniffing out her private thoughts like an inquisitive mouse.
    “I’m not going to die,” he went on.
    “I never thought you would,” she lied. She padded to Jaykit’s side and smoothed the fur between his ears with her tongue.
    “What did Firestar say?” Jaykit asked.
    “We’ve got to stay in the nursery until he decides if we can become apprentices,” Hollykit told him.
    “If? ” Jaykit echoed.
    “If we do as we’re told and stay in camp, then I think we’ll be okay,” Hollykit assured him. She hoped it was true. She had never seen Firestar so angry.
    “It has to be okay!” Jaykit struggled to his paws, then winced with pain.
    “Are you all right?” Hollykit mewed in alarm.
    Leafpool was mixing herbs in the far corner of her den.
    “He’s just sore,” she meowed. “But he’s healing well.” Leaving her work, she joined the two kits. “I’ve been giving him comfrey to chew on.”
    “Is that what you were mixing there?” Hollykit asked.
    “I like to mix in a few heather flowers when I have them,”
    Leafpool explained. “The nectar sweetens the mixture and makes it easier to swallow.”
    “How did you learn all that?” Hollykit mewed, genuinely curious.
    “Cinderpelt taught me,” Leafpool answered. There was sadness in her voice as she spoke about her mentor, but Hollykit was more interested in Leafpool’s skill. Having so much knowledge must make her feel very powerful—no other cat in the Clan knew herbs like she did. She had cured Brackenfur and Birchfall and now Jaykit. Imagine being that important to the Clan.
    “Leafpool?” Brightheart called from the den entrance.
    “Brackenfur’s coughing again.”
    “I’ll give you some honey to take to him,” Leafpool replied.
    “Can you see to Jaykit for me, Hollykit? A wash will help his stiffness. Just avoid the poultice patches.”
    “Okay.” Hollykit wrinkled her nose at the thought of putting her tongue near the tangy-smelling goo plastered over her brother’s pelt. But she began to wash him anyway as Leafpool fetched a leaf wrap of honey from the back of the den and gave it to Brightheart.
    “Not so roughly!” Jaykit complained. “I’m sore all over.”
    “Sorry,” Hollykit apologized, lapping Jaykit’s pelt with softer strokes.
    “You’re not as gentle as Spottedleaf,” Jaykit moaned.
    Hollykit stopped licking. “Who?”
    “Spottedleaf,” Jaykit repeated. “Leafpool says she’s one of our warrior ancestors. She came to me in a dream and poked me all over with her nose.”
    “How can you dream about a cat if you’ve never met her?”
    Hollykit asked, puzzled.
    Leafpool padded back from the den entrance and sat down. “Are you telling Hollykit about Spottedleaf?”
    Jaykit nodded.
    “Who is she?” Hollykit mewed.
    “She was the ThunderClan