Squirrelflight stared at Firestar, her body frozen in shock. Graystripe? It couldn't be. Graystripe was dead - Firestar himself had admitted it! Her green eyes stretched wide with shock, she looked down at the motionless cat, and back to her father. Firestar was staring at Graystripe, as if paralysed.

Squirrelflight stared at the limp gray cat. It couldn't be, but... he somehow looked familiar. Those strong, broad shoulders, thick gray fur, and muscled legs - she was sure she'd seen them before. Next to her, every cat in the Gathering was still. Onestar raised his voice in a yowl. "This Gathering is over! Those of you who wish it may leave!"

Most of the cats left, but ThunderClan, the medicine cats, Mistyfoot, Mosspelt, Onestar, Crowfeather and Tawnypelt remained, crowding around the motionless body.

Firestar still had not moved, and when Barkface shouldered past him, jaws full of herbsm he hardly noticed. His eyes were fixed on the cat, lying on it's piece of wood.

Barkface and Leafpool began administering some long stalks of herb into the gray cat's mouth, while Mothwing and Littlecloud helped him swallow. He lay still for a moment, then retched, his muscles twitching, vomiting up mouthfuls of lakewater.

"What did you do?" asked Firestar hoarsely, echoing Squirrelflight's thoughts. "He's getting worse!"

Leafpool glanced up at her father, and gave him a soothing lick. "It's yarrow," she meowed. "It'll make him vomit any lakewater he swallowed." Firestar nodded, silent again. When the cat had stopped retching, he said silently, "I know it's Graystripe."

There was so much conviction in his words that Squirrelflight knew he was right. Mistyfoot, Mosspelt, Leafpool, Onestar and most of the ThunderClan cats nodded, but every other cat looked unconvinced. Crowfeather's voice rose above the clamour - "Graystripe was taken by twolegs! How can he be here?"

"It's him!" snapped Firestar, looking down at Graystripe. "We must carry him back to camp. He is still a warrior of ThunderClan."

Squirrelflight noticed sharply that Firestar said, 'a warrior', not 'the deputy.' What would Brambleclaw think now Graystripe was back? She looked back at him, but his expression was unreadable. Would he stay deputy?

She was jolted out of her thoughts by Firestar bruching past her to sink his teeth in Graystripe's scruff and lift him up, with Sandstorm and Brackenfur holding his back legs. Together, flanked by the other cats that had stayed behind, they carried him carefully and precariously across the tree bridge, onto the lakeshore.

"We must leave now," said Mistyfoot. "Send word if he recovers." Squirrelflight winced at her tone - as if Graystripe's life was hanging by a claw. Which it probably is, she told herself.

Firestar nodded, as Onestar mewed, "We will go with you as far as our territory border."

And so they walked, heavily, clumsily and slowly, taking turns to carry Graystripe - though Firestar refused to let go of his friend's limp scruff.

Finally they reached the line of trees that bordered them with WindClan. Onestar pressed his muzzle into Firestar's for a second, then said, "Good luck." Turning, he, Crowfeather and Barkface bounded up the hill. The ThunderClan cats set off once more. By the time they reached the hollow, the sky was turning gray with dashes of pink, and birds were beginning to twitter among the bushes. Squirrelflight's belly growled.

Finally, they made their way through the bramble thicket at the Camp entrance, to be greeted by Dustpelt, Rainwhisker, Stormfur, Brightheart and Brook, all yowling loudly. "Where have you been?"

"You should have been back ages ago!"
The only cat who didn't speak was Stormfur. As Firestar, Brambleclaw and Cloudtail had emerged from the tunnel, he had frozen as he had seen what they were carrying. Now his voice was a whisper - but somehow everyone could hear it. "Father?"

Firestar nodded, his face tired. "He was floating on the lake. He needs rest - now. Leafpool!" The young medicine cat hurried forwards, flashing a glance at Squirrelflight on the way.

"Yes?"

"Take him to your den - do everything you can. Report to me as much as possible."

Stormfur pushed through the cats and pressed his nose into Graystripe's flank for several long seconds, then pulled away, rubbing himself against Brook. "Do what you can."

Squirrelflight stared at Graystripe. It was truly him... it must be. She knew now, the gray fur, the strong body, half-open yellow eyes... wait. Half-open eyes?

"He's awake!" she meowed loudly, and Firestar froze, gently putting Graystripe down to stare into his face, where two yellow pools stared, unfocused, at the cats around him. They rested for a second on Stormfur.

"S-St-Stormfur." Graystripe's voice was the merest whisper of a growl. Then his head shifted slightly, and he looked up at Firestar. "F-Firestar..." His head fell limp, and his chest rose and fell. "I knew you wouldn't give up on me."

Green eyes bored into yellow - and then the moment had past, and Graystripe was asleep again. Firestar stared down at him, and his eyes were swimming with guilt. Squirrelflight knew why. She had heard her father's words, not even two moons ago - heard him admit Graystripe was dead.

She had heard him give up on his oldest friend.