Her words seemed to fill the clearing with an icy chill. No cat challenged her, tried to say that she was wrong, that their faith was worth fighting for. Sol warned that the sun would disappear, and it did. Where did that leave StarClan? Whispering to one another in frightened mews, the cats began to melt into the undergrowth.
“Come on.” Lionpaw was nudging Hollypaw. ThunderClan was leaving.
Hollypaw stumbled forward as if she had forgotten how to walk. Jaypaw pressed against her, guiding her path through the ferns.
“Are ShadowClan really not warriors anymore?” Poppyfrost asked.
“I suppose that’s for StarClan to decide,” Birchfall told her.
As Jaypaw waited for his turn to cross the tree-bridge, he tried not to let the urgent mews of his Clanmates unsettle him. He had to think this through. But they chattered on, crowding his thoughts.
“If StarClan hid the sun when we fought,” Dustpelt growled, “what will they do now that Blackstar has turned their back on them?”
“They haven’t covered the moon,” Brackenfur pointed out.
Thornclaw leaped onto the bridge. “Perhaps they’ll turn their backs on us all!”
As Jaypaw crossed the fallen tree, the warrior’s words buzzed like bees in his mind. StarClan had said nothing about the sun, or Sol. Perhaps they had given up on watching over the Clans below.
Jaypaw felt Lionpaw’s tail touch his shoulder as they padded along the WindClan shoreline. “Slow down,” he whispered.
Jaypaw eased his pace and let his Clanmates push on ahead until they were out of earshot. Hollypaw hung back with him, her paws dragging over the shingle.
“I thought Sol had come to help,” Lionpaw hissed. “But he’s just made things worse.”
Hollypaw was still in shock. “He’s stopped Blackstar from believing in the warrior code,” she mumbled tonelessly.
“Perhaps Blackstar would have stopped anyway,” Jaypaw suggested.
“No. It was Sol.” Lionpaw was adamant. “He’s said something to convince Blackstar that StarClan are worthless.”
Hollypaw kicked suddenly at the shingle. “I don’t care what Sol says.” Her mew was shrill. “They can’t stop believing in StarClan. That’s what Clans do! The warrior code brought us here; it gives us food and shelter.” Her fear had turned to rage.
“It keeps us safe!”
“But Sol predicted the vanishing sun,” Lionpaw reminded her. “StarClan didn’t.”
“Does that mean you’re going to give up StarClan too?”
Fury f lashed from Hollypaw so fiercely that Jaypaw wondered for an instant if she were going to lunge at Lionpaw. But she only stalked ahead, her breath rasping with emotion.
Lionpaw hurried after her. “That’s not what I meant.”
Jaypaw let them go. The shingle was soft here, dimpling around his paws. The lake whispered on the shore. A cool breeze blew off the water, and Jaypaw turned his head, feeling it ruffle his whiskers.
Broken moonlight shimmered on the surface of the lake.
He could see it.
I must be dreaming.
The shingle shifted beside him. A cat was walking with him.
Yellowfang.
Her breath fouled the air, but Jaypaw was pleased she had come. “Did you see what happened?” he mewed.
“Of course.”
Jaypaw’s heart quickened. “What are you going to do?”
Yellowfang’s paws scrunched on the shingle. She sighed, and when she spoke again, she sounded old and tired. “We must choose our battles carefully.”
Was StarClan admitting defeat without even trying to fight for ShadowClan? Jaypaw turned to her, panic coming in waves. But Yellowfang had faded from his sight. Everything had clouded over, and soon the world was black once more.
He could hear the voices of his Clanmates ahead, and pushed on after them.
His thoughts whirled and collided like leaves caught in a storm. At last Yellowfang had told him what he needed to know.
StarClan has surrendered. Their end is drawing near.
Jaypaw, Lionpaw, and Hollypaw would fulfill their destiny at last.
Chapter 24
Lionpaw was dreaming.
Blood flooded over him, around him, washing through his fur, thick and warm, filling his nostrils, tumbling him onward until he was buffeted against rough stone walls.
Help!
He fought the crimson tide, churning his paws, his muscles screaming as he struggled against the weight of the flood.
His lungs were bursting, and the iron tang of blood filled his mouth.
The wave dragged him across jagged rocks, then swept on without him, leaving him soaked and gasping for breath. He blinked open his eyes and saw a stone roof arching high above him. Silvery light filtered through a crack, dimly lighting the stone walls of the cave. Lionpaw struggled to his paws, his sodden pelt heavy. He stared at the blood pooled in the cracks and crevices of the wide stone floor and glimpsed a shape—a body—lying awkwardly on the stone floor, paws twisted, tail limp, head thrown back, blood dripping from its whiskers.
Heatherpaw!
Lionpaw stumbled toward her, rage surging beneath his pelt. Growling, he pawed at her, but she lay heavy and motionless.
She was already dead.
He glared at her, satisfaction welling in his belly.
You deserve it!
She had caused the battle that had made the sun vanish.
And now the Clans were falling apart, turning away from StarClan as StarClan turned away from them.
His claws slid out, curling from his paws, longer and sharper than blackthorns. They scraped the cave floor, gouging furrows in the stone. Blood pounded in his ears, heat surging through him as though he were in battle. No enemy could beat him; no foe could spill his blood.
Let the battles come. Nothing can harm me. I am more powerful than StarClan!
“Get off!” Foxpaw’s indignant mew woke him. “You’re digging your claws into my back!”
Lionpaw rolled away and stumbled out of his nest. “Sorry.”
His mind was fuzzy with sleep, but the dream still haunted him. He staggered out of the den, feeling sick.
I was glad she was dead!
Horrified, he padded into the clearing.
I loved her once.
The morning sun streamed onto his pelt, but he shivered.
Fear spread like ice through his bones. He licked at his chest, relieved to find it didn’t taste of blood and his fur wasn’t stained red.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!” Hollypaw was carrying moss to the elders’ den.
Lionpaw didn’t reply. He kept washing. He felt his dream had tainted him. Did he really want to become more powerful than StarClan if it meant spilling so much blood?
Cloudtail was putting Cinderpaw through her paces below Highledge. “Jump, duck, and roll,” he ordered.
She practiced the battle move, landing perfectly on all four paws.
“How did your leg feel?” Cloudtail prompted.
Cinderpaw purred. “Like all my other legs!” She trotted around her mentor with her tail in the air. “Absolutely fine.”
Millie was coughing in the nursery, her kits mewling while Daisy tried to soothe them. “It’s all right, my sweets. Try feeding again.”
Sandstorm began rattling the branches of the apprentices’ den. “Wake up, Foxpaw, you dormouse!”
The thorn barrier shivered as Graystripe pounded into camp.
Cloudtail looked up. “Any sign of WindClan?”
“No,” Graystripe answered. “The borders are freshly marked, but no cat’s crossed them.”
Dustpelt and Whitewing followed him in and padded to the fresh-kill pile.