Sol interrupted her thoughts. “The prophecy is a grave responsibility for three such young cats to bear.” His amber eyes were round with sympathy.
Jaypaw clawed at the grass. “I can walk in other cats’ dreams, and in their memories.”
But Sol was staring at Lionpaw. “And you? I can see something burns within.”
Lionpaw’s tail quivered.
Sol’s voice softened. “Something that maybe frightens you a little?”
“I can fight in battles without getting hurt,” Lionpaw confessed, sounding very young and small.
Hollypaw stared at her paws. What was her special power?
She knew it was there. She could feel it inside her. But the only thing she felt certain of—so certain it felt like a thorn-sharp stab in her side—was the need to defend the warrior code, the absolute faith that it was vital for the Clans’ existence.
Would Sol understand? He was a loner. How could he appreciate the importance of something that held the four Clans together? She looked up at him, expecting to see his amber gaze on her, but Sol had tipped his head to one side again and closed his eyes.
“Of course, you must nurture these powers.” His mew was light, as though this were a small matter to him. “Listen to your inner voices, to the instinct that in every other cat would merely help them find food or shelter. Who’s to say that in you, these instincts won’t help you achieve more?”
Jaypaw f licked a mosquito from his nose. “Did the vanishing sun have anything to do with us?”
Hollypaw blinked. It hadn’t occurred to her that the prophecy and the sun’s terrifying disappearance might be connected. She leaned forward, paws prickling.
“Maybe it did.” Sol swept his tail over the grass.
Hollypaw felt Lionpaw stiffen beside her. “How?”
“Maybe you are like the shadow covering the sun, and one day you will cover the stars in the sky, so that the cats see you instead of StarClan.”
Hollypaw gasped. “Does that mean we’ll be dead?”
Sol shook his head. “Of course not,” he meowed. “You’ll just be more powerful than your warrior ancestors. The light will return, just like the sun came back, but it will be your light, and yours to control.”
Our light?
Jaypaw looked like a startled mouse, his tail sticking straight out behind him.
“B-but if we control the light…” Hollypaw searched for the words to describe the fear rising inside her. Nothing made sense right now. It was all upside down. “If we control the light…”
Sol leaned forward, as though willing her to speak.
“What about the warrior code?” she mewed at last. “How will it fit in?”
“However you want it to,” Sol meowed simply. “You will have the power to destroy the code, or preserve it. It’s up to you.”
Destroy the code!
Hollypaw felt dizzy. “We can’t be more powerful than the code,” she whispered.
Jaypaw padded in front of her. “Sol.” He looked up at the tom. “You must come back with us.” His mew was urgent.
“We need you to be our mentor.”
“Me?” Sol paused for a moment to wrap his tail neatly over his paws. “You don’t need me. The prophecy will take care of itself.” He made it sound like the simplest thing in the world.
“But you know so much more than the others,” Jaypaw insisted. “You knew the sun was going to vanish. You must be able to help us.”
“But I can’t possibly live in your territory,” Sol pointed out.
“Firestar would never allow it.”
Lionpaw stepped forward, eyes shining. “You could live just outside it, though.” A bat fluttered above them. “We could build you a den and visit you every day and bring food.”
Hollypaw was still swimming against the tide of fear lapping at her. More powerful than the code! She felt Jaypaw nudging her.
“You want him to come, don’t you?” he mewed.
She heard herself answer. “W-won’t it be hard to keep up with our apprentice duties?” Her common sense worked her tongue while her mind still reeled. What might this stranger show them? They had learned nearly everything their mentors had to teach, yet there was room for so much more. And if they were really destined to be more powerful than the warrior code, they were going to need much greater guidance.
“Please come!” Jaypaw begged.
Sol glanced at the Twoleg nest, wrinkling his nose. “Very well.”
Hollypaw stared at him in surprise. How had he changed his mind so quickly? “Really?” She gasped, relief flooding her.
Sol nodded. “How can I ignore the prophecy? You have asked for my help to walk your true path.”
Jaypaw bounced onto the stone trail. “Let’s go!”
Lionpaw took the lead, and Sol fell in behind. Jaypaw skittered after Lionpaw like a kit, trying to make him go faster, as if he couldn’t wait to have his first lesson from Sol. Hollypaw was used to seeing her brother stomping reluctantly about the camp as he carried out his apprentice duties. Now he was so excited, she wondered why she felt only fear.
But it was exciting, wasn’t it? Just because she would be more powerful than the warrior code didn’t mean she’d have to destroy it. She would have the power to preserve it forever.
Sol had said so. It was more than she had ever hoped for: the ability to secure the future of all four Clans for all the moons to come.
They retraced their steps to the ShadowClan border, then followed the scent markers toward their own territory. It was late, the sun sinking toward the treetops and Lionpaw was pushing the pace, clearly keen to get Sol settled and return to camp. Had they been missed? How would they explain their disappearance?
A rustle in the bushes on the other side of the border made Hollypaw jump.
Jaypaw halted, pulling on Lionpaw’s tail. “Shh!”
The cats ducked, trying to hide, but it was too late.
“What in the name of StarClan are you doing there?”
Russetfur’s eyes burned in the shadows, wide with astonishment.
“Don’t worry,” Hollypaw whispered to Sol. “ShadowClan were our allies in the battle today.”
“Are you spying on us?” Russetfur’s mew was sharp. “Did Firestar send you?”
Jaypaw straightened up and faced the ShadowClan deputy across the scent line. “Like Firestar would send me to spy,” he meowed sarcastically.
“Then what are you doing here?” Russetfur demanded.
Smokefoot padded out of the shadows behind her. He was staring at Sol, his gaze lingering on the cat’s soft fur and blunt claws. “Looks like Firestar’s adopting another kittypet,” he declared.
Sol frowned. “Kittypet?”
Lionpaw glanced at him. “He means a cat born in a Twoleg nest.” He turned to Smokefoot, eyes gleaming. “Sol isn’t a kittypet.”
“Then he’s a loner,” Smokefoot growled. “And no more welcome in a Clan than a kittypet.”
A tabby she-cat with long unkempt fur slid in beside her Clanmates. “Oh, but ThunderClan welcomes everyone,” she sneered.
Lionpaw unsheathed his claws.
Russetfur stiffened. “Shut up, Kinkfur,” she hissed. “I don’t want any more fighting today.” Her mew seemed edged with fear. Hollypaw noticed for the first time how tatty the ShadowClan deputy’s pelt was. Dried blood crusted the tip of one ear, and Smokefoot’s eyes were dull with tiredness. The battle had taken its toll on ShadowClan, too. She spotted Owlpaw behind his Clanmates. The apprentice was gazing fearfully up at the sun, fiery now as it slid behind the treetops. Were they afraid that StarClan would hide it again if they started fighting?
“They won’t attack,” Hollypaw whispered. She nudged Lionpaw and tipped her nose toward the sun.