Chapter 11-A Murder of Crows
Jayfeather stared at the still sleeping form of Ashley as she slept. How would she know about the Boneyard? he wondered. Could it be…
Ashley had been odd right from the start. She had suddenly appeared in the middle of ThunderClan territory, didn't like to eat fresh-kill, and she didn't smell anything like a cat. Her scent was different. It was faintly familiar and slightly bitter. Where did she come from? Who was she, really?
Jayfeather crouched down in front of her and gazed at her closed eyes. It wouldn't hurt if I took a peak at her dreams.
He closed his eyes and listened to her steady breathing, and forced himself to match hers. Soon, they became one. Their pulse was the same, their heartbeat was the same, and Jayfeather felt his mind slip into hers.
He blinked in his surroundings. He was in a Twolegplace, in someone's backyward. Ashley was standing with her back to him, and he quickly ducked behind a tree before she could see him.
She seemed to be talking to someone, but he couldn't make out the words. His eyes widened when he saw her morph. At first she was a cat, but as he watched, her tail and fur disappeared, and she transformed into a Twoleg. Her words changed into an undecipherable language that he did not know.
What was happening? he thought.
And then he was whizzed away to another place, where the sky was an ashen grey and the ground was cold and bare. Sharp, black rocks jutted out from the dirt. He felt his hackles rise as a wind brushed him.
I know this place…
He had only been to it once in his life, and that one time was enough to convince him to stay away for good.
This is the Boneyard.
He knew that if he brushed away all the dirt and dust underneath him, all the rubble and grime, it would reveal piles and piles of bone that stretched out for miles under the ground. They were cat's bones, and they seemed to shiver underneath him with an inner ice.
The Boneyard was a place where even StarClan shied away from, and where no living thing dared to wander. It was a place of misery and contempt, of dust and long forgotten memories.
Jayfeather wondered, Why was Ashley dreaming about something like this?
Even though it was just a dream, he noticed every detail, every fine pinprick of the place just the way he remembered it. She's been to the Boneyard, he realized. And she had survived. For some reason, the Darklings had been too slow to take her, and she had managed to escape.
And where was Ashley?
He spun around, but she wasn't there. The skies grew darker and darker. The whole land was engulfed in a rich darkness that smelled of damp misery and cold despair.
Jayfeather's eyes flew open, and he was awake. He was blind again.
He could smell Ashley's odd scent next to him, and the spicy aroma of the dried herbs wafting through the den.
She's been to places no cat has ever been to before. What are her memories? he thought.
She stirred from the mossy nest. "Jayfeather?" she asked, surprised.
He mewed, "You're awake." The medicine cat was sure of one thing: she wasn't a cat. What she was, he couldn't imagine.
He shifted onto his paws and sat up. Could she be the cat from the prophecy? He blinked in confusion. Of course not. I don't like to admit it, but she's not the best apprentice out there. She's not strong enough.
Ashley shifted in the nest and mewed, "Well, I think my scratches are fine now. Thanks."
"Yeah, sure."
He watched her slip away from the den and outside. Even if she might not be the cat from the prophecy, he knew for sure that there was something strange about her.
I'll have to keep an eye on her, he decided, and then turned away to sort his herbs.
OoOoOOoOoOOoOoOO
The land was beginning to darken with rain when Jayfeather padded out of his den. A few drops landed on his nose and he hissed in annoyance. Turning his head, he called, "Briarlight! Get me some more marigold before it starts to downpour."
The lithe she-cat nodded and dragged herself out of the camp. Jayfeather looked up at the dark gray sky. The sun was hidden behind clouds.
The raindrops pattered down lightly onto the dirt and seeped beneath the dry cracks on the ground. He closed his eyes and ran his thoughts over the Clan. He could sense Bramblestar in his den, grooming himself. He could almost see the warriors bickering in the edges of the territory.
A shadow swept over his gaze and he stiffened. He opened his blind eyes again and felt the tall form of a crow staring down at him. There were twelve of them; he felt them gaze at him sternly on the perch of a slender tree.
"What are you looking at?" he hissed, and turned away. He could still feel their watchful eyes at the back of his head, and he paused. They seemed to be telling him something.
The crows did nothing. They sat there on the branches and watched. And waited.
A murder of crows, Jayfeather realized. An omen? His fur prickled with the cold.
He stared back at them sternly with his sightless eyes, and could feel them shifting and poking around on their perch.
The crows cawed ominously.
Yes, Jayfeather thought. Something's going to happen soon.
He had no doubt that bringing Ashley into the Clan would be a big mistake.
The crows cawed again, mingling the scent of the rain with their stench of crowfood and bad luck.