Firestar lay in front of the Moonstone and stretched out until he could touch it with his nose. Cold spread through him from muzzle to tail tip, and he remembered the last time he had come here, to receive his nine lives and his name. It seemed such a long time ago. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.
For countless heartbeats he felt nothing but wind and the scent of night rushing through his fur. Fear swelled up inside him; he gritted his teeth, refusing to lift his nose from the cold, cold stone.
Then his ears picked up a faint sound that gradually grew louder: the rustling of leaves in the breeze. His eyes flew open. Huge branches stretched above his head, barely visible against a dark sky. There was no moon, but the stars of Silverpelt were burning brightly, close enough to look as if they were tangled among the leaves.
Firestar scrambled up and looked around. He was back at Fourtrees, but this time the clearing was empty.
Then starlight sparkled at the edge of his sight, too low to come from Silverpelt; he spun around to see a blue-furred she-cat padding out of the shadows. Her pelt shone silver, and she left a frosty glitter on the grass where she set her paws.
“Bluestar!” Firestar was overjoyed to see the ThunderClan leader before him. “It’s good to see you. Have you come here alone?”
Bluestar padded closer until Firestar could see the gleaming depths of her blue eyes. “I know why you have come,” she replied, “and the questions you want to ask would not be welcomed by many of your warrior ancestors.”
Firestar stared at her. “Do you mean that StarClan know the cats in my dreams? Are they from StarClan too? Why have I never seen them before? And what do they want from me?”
Bluestar brushed her tail across his mouth to silence him.
Her eyes were troubled. Firestar felt as though he stood on the verge of a dark secret, and suddenly he didn’t want to know what lay in its depths.
“Firestar.” Bluestar’s voice was uncertain, hesitant. “Is there any way you would be content to go away without the answer you seek?”
There was a hint of desperation in her eyes; Firestar almost gave way to her, but then he remembered why he had come. If he left without an explanation, the terrified wailing would invade his dreams over and over again, and there would be no escape from visions of the fleeing cats.
“No, Bluestar,” he answered steadily. “I have to know the truth.”
“Very well.” Bluestar sighed. “The cats you have seen are from SkyClan.”
“SkyClan?” Firestar echoed. “What is that?”
Bluestar bowed her head. “They are—they were—the fifth Clan.”
Chapter 5
“But there have always been four Clans in the forest!”
“Not always,” Bluestar replied. Her voice and her eyes were cold. “Once there were five. SkyClan’s territory lay downriver from ThunderClan, where the Twolegplace is now. When the Twolegs built their nests, many, many seasons ago, SkyClan left the forest. There was no room for them then—and there’s no room for them now.”
“Where did they go?” Firestar asked.
“I don’t know. Far from these skies where StarClan walks.”
“And did StarClan never try to find them?” Firestar was shocked that Bluestar sounded so dismissive, as if the spirits of their warrior ancestors didn’t care that a whole Clan had gone away.
“Their own warrior ancestors went with them,” Bluestar explained. “There was no reason why SkyClan couldn’t have found another home somewhere else.”
“Then what do they want with me?” Firestar asked, bewildered. “Are they trying to tell me that they want to come back? Why would they do that, if they found another home?”
“I don’t know,” Bluestar admitted. “But from the first moment I saw you, all those seasons ago, I knew you were the fire that would save our Clan. I knew you would leave pawsteps behind you that will be remembered as long as the warrior Clans survive. Perhaps SkyClan sees this also. Perhaps they think that only you can help them.”
Firestar shivered. “Are you telling me that I have to find SkyClan and bring them back to the forest?”
“I’m not telling you anything of the kind,” Bluestar snapped. “Where is there room for another Clan?”
“But the dreams—” Firestar protested.
“Firestar, are there bees in your brain?” Bluestar’s tail lashed. “You are ThunderClan’s leader, and your Clan needs you. There’s nothing in the warrior code that says you have to help a Clan that has been missing for so long, no living cat remembers them.”
Firestar narrowed his eyes. Bluestar was right about his responsibility toward ThunderClan, but he couldn’t forget the wailing of the cats on the moor. How could he ignore them, if there was anything he could do to help? It wasn’t Bluestar’s dreams that were filled with the shrieks of terrified, fleeing cats; she didn’t see a pleading, haunted face in every pool of water.
And yet the only reason he had found the courage to lead the forest Clans into battle against BloodClan was because he had believed his warrior ancestors when they told him there had always been four Clans in the forest. The fifth Clan was StarClan, forever protecting the four below. Had StarClan lied?
Bluestar rested her tail tip on his shoulder and spoke more calmly. “Your warrior ancestors are watching over you now, just as they have always done. Nothing has changed. Your duty is to your own Clan now.”
“But SkyClan—”
“Has gone. There is no gap where they used to be, no prey or territory waiting for them to return. The forest is perfectly divided between the four Clans who remain.”
“Then it’s the will of StarClan that I just ignore these cats?” Firestar challenged her. “Don’t you care that they are suffering?”
Bluestar blinked. “There are cats who would argue that there should never have been a fifth Clan in the forest at all.
Why are there four oaks at Fourtrees, if not to stand for the four Clans?”
Firestar gazed up at the massive oak trees, then back at Bluestar. Fury pure as a lightning flash rushed through his body. “Are you mouse-brained?” he snarled. “Are you telling me SkyClan had to leave because there weren’t enough trees?”
A look of shock and dismay filled Bluestar’s eyes. Not waiting for her reply, Firestar whipped around and raced to the edge of the hollow. Brambles tore at his fur as he plunged through the bushes, but the pain meant nothing. Ever since he came to the forest he had trusted his warrior ancestors.
But they had been lying to him all along. He felt as if he had taken a step on ground he thought was solid, only to fall into deep and bitter water.
He fought his way through the last of the bushes, but instead of reaching the rim of the hollow, he found himself blinking awake in the cavern of the Moonstone. His breath was coming in harsh rasps. His fur felt torn and rumpled. His paws stung, and when he licked them he tasted the salty tang of blood, as if he had been running a long way over stony ground.
Far above, through the hole in the roof, clouds covered the moon and stars. The cave was utterly dark. Firestar rose to his paws and limped across the cave floor, close to panic until he stumbled into the entrance to the tunnel. When he emerged onto the side of the hill a stiff breeze was shredding the clouds like wet cobweb. Firestar caught only fitful glimpses of the moon, but stars were shining overhead once more.