Firestar hesitated.
“Very well,” the ThunderClan leader agreed cautiously.
“But take Jaypaw with you.”
Leafpool led Sol out of the camp, and Jaypaw followed, padding in their paw steps until they reached a mossy clearing not far from the camp entrance.
“What is it that you want to tell us?” Leafpool seemed determined not to be intimidated.
Sol crouched, energy surging from his pelt. “Darkness is coming,” he hissed.
Jaypaw held his breath. The choking blackness! He pushed the memory away. He had to hear everything that this cat said.
“What do you mean?” Leafpool’s mew was taut.
“A time of great emptiness lies ahead,” Sol warned. “Nothing will be the same again.”
Sol’s voice was hypnotic, and his words seemed to echo with the wisdom of the ancient Clans. Jaypaw leaned closer as Sol’s voice grew softer.
“The sun will go out.”
What does he mean? Jaypaw struggled to see beyond the words, into Sol’s thoughts, but it was like trying to catch fish too slippery to grip.
Leafpool shifted her paws. “StarClan haven’t given me any signs.”
“Dear Leafpool.” Sol sighed. “Your faith is noble, but can StarClan really know everything?”
“But—” Leafpool tried to object, but Sol pressed on.
“They are only the spirits of ordinary cats like you and me, aren’t they?”
That’s what I think! Jaypaw’s fur stood on end. But he’s brave enough to say it out loud. He wanted to ask Sol how he knew. Had he met StarClan? The Tribe of Endless Hunting? Rock? But Leafpool flicked the tip of her tail across his mouth to stop him from saying anything.
“We have been guided by StarClan in many things,” she meowed firmly. “They found us a new place to live after our forest was destroyed by Twolegs. We will continue to trust in them for all the moons to come.”
Sol sat up. “I was only thinking of the Clans,” he meowed.
Had Leafpool offended him? “But no doubt they can take care of themselves, as they always have.”
“Yes, they will.” Leafpool stood and began to head back toward the thorn barrier. Clearly she didn’t care whether she’d offended him or not.
Sol padded slowly after her. Was that satisfaction warming the stranger’s pelt?
Jaypaw began to follow.
“Hush!”
A hiss from the undergrowth made him stop in his tracks.
He sniffed the air.
Foxpaw and Icepaw!
“I thought you were training,” he mewed sternly.
Ferns swished as the apprentices slid out from where they’d been hiding.
“Whitewing sent us off to practice stalking,” Foxpaw mewed sheepishly.
Icepaw showed no sign of embarrassment. “Is it true?” she squeaked. “Is the sun really going to die?” She was quivering with a mixture of excitement and horror. “Why hasn’t StarClan warned us?”
“Be quiet!” Jaypaw pricked his ears, afraid Whitewing might be close. “None of the others must know!”
“But we should warn them!” Foxpaw mewed.
“Who do you trust more?” Jaypaw snapped. “This stranger?
Or StarClan? Spreading gossip like this will only cause panic.
You must think like warriors, not kits.” Praying this would be enough to keep them quiet, he shooed them toward camp and followed them as they scampered through the thorn barrier.
Lionpaw, with the scent of trees lingering on his pelt, hurried to greet Jaypaw. “What did you find out about him?
Hollypaw told me you’ve been into the forest to talk.”
“Leafpool and Sol did the talking.”
“What did they say?”
Jaypaw pricked his ears. Firestar was speaking to Sol.
“A patrol will escort you to the border,” the ThunderClan leader meowed.
“We’ll make sure he crosses it,” Dustpelt growled from the barrier, where he waited with Sandstorm and Spiderleg.
Jaypaw felt his paws grow hot as Sol began to pad toward them.
“Well?” Lionpaw pressed.
Sol’s faint, unfamiliar scent filled his nostrils.
“Don’t forget.” Sol leaned close as he passed. “Darkness is coming.”
“What did he say?” Lionpaw demanded as Sol headed out through the tunnel.
Jaypaw stifled a shiver. “It doesn’t matter,” he mewed.
Chapter 12
“Why don’t you two go to sleep?” Lionpaw grumbled, circling in his nest yet again.
Icepaw and Foxpaw had been whispering in the dark ever since Whitewing had sent them to their nests. With only five apprentices left in the den, the noise seemed louder than usual.
Hollypaw was asleep with her tail covering her ears, and Cinderpaw snored gently beside her. Didn’t Icepaw and Foxpaw need rest, too? Lionpaw tried to make himself comfortable, but his moss felt lumpy.
“What are you whispering about, anyway?” he hissed at the two young apprentices.
“Nothing important,” Foxpaw mewed.
Lionpaw wriggled, feeling a pebble deep in his nest. Perhaps that was what was making him so uncomfortable. He rooted down through the moss, feeling for the stone and wishing he were asleep.
The whispering started again.
“Shut up!” Lionpaw hissed.
“It wasn’t us!” Icepaw retorted indignantly.
Lionpaw tensed. Who was it then? He sat up in his nest.
Something was moving outside. A faint shadow flickered over the branches of the den. Lionpaw tasted the air. A musky tang filled his mouth. Not ThunderClan.
He froze.
WindClan!
Had they come to ask for help? But why now, under cover of darkness? He crept to the entrance of the den.
“Where are you going?” Foxpaw whispered.
“Shh!”
Peering out, Lionpaw saw thin shadows streaming through the thorn tunnel. The light-footed shapes were filling the clearing, hardly visible under the moonless sky.
He blinked in disbelief. An invasion?
“Attack!” Lionpaw screeched the alarm and shot from the den. He slammed into a WindClan cat, surprised that the wraithlike warrior felt so real. Noise exploded around him as, snarling and hissing, the WindClan invaders turned on him.
He lashed out at the barrage of paws, keeping his hind paws firmly planted against the onslaught.
Then he dropped and crouched, letting the attackers fall in upon themselves, and wriggled out of the melee.
ThunderClan warriors were streaming from their den, pelts bristling, eyes wide with shock. Hollypaw raced into the clearing with Cinderpaw, Icepaw, and Foxpaw at her heels.
“Why are they attacking us?”
This was no time for questions.
“Circle the clearing and pick off the outsiders!” Lionpaw ordered.
He ducked as a WindClan warrior leaped for him, then arched his back. His attacker rolled clumsily over him, landing wrong-footed as Lionpaw spun and leaped for his throat.
Only just in time, he re-aimed his attack, biting the WindClan warrior sharply behind the ear and rolling him to the ground. I nearly killed you! Lionpaw realized how close he’d come to tearing this warrior’s throat out. “Get out of my camp!” he hissed, hooking the warrior with his forepaws and raking his belly with his hind. Or I will kill you!
The WindClan warrior wriggled from his grasp but didn’t flee, only disappeared into the throng of cats fighting in the clearing. Lionpaw tried to follow him, but the WindClan warrior’s pelt disappeared into the gray, writhing mass.
A f lash of white! Cloudtail was shouldering his way through the crowd. Sandstorm’s pelt glowed at the far side of the battle; close by, Lionpaw could make out the white-patched pelts of Sorreltail and Brightheart. Whitewing was outside the elders’ den, slashing side by side with her apprentice, Icepaw, at an advancing line of WindClan warriors.