Jaypaw bristled. “I’m fine, thanks,” he muttered. He didn’t want any cat to know how scared he was of water, even after teaching Cinderheart to swim. His belly churned when he felt the water lapping around his paws, then rising up his legs as he waded deeper. But before the water lapped his belly fur he felt it sink again, and soon he was scrambling out onto the bank in ShadowClan territory, the reek of ShadowClan scent all around him.
“We should roll in their scent marks,” Hollyleaf suggested.
“That way we’ll disguise our ThunderClan scent.”
“Wonderful,” Jaypaw grumbled, even though his sister’s idea was a good one. “The dirtplace, and now ShadowClan. I won’t be able to lick my fur for a moon.”
Thoroughly covered in ShadowClan scent, the three cats headed deeper into the rival Clan’s territory. Jaypaw’s ears were pricked for the sound of approaching patrols, his jaws parted to pick up the stronger scent that would warn him of approaching warriors. But the forest was eerily silent.
“Where are they all?” Hollyleaf whispered. It was unusual for no cats to be out at night, not even a few hunters, especially when there was a bright moon.
No cat answered her. They went on until Jaypaw felt the fallen leaves under his pads give way to sharp pine needles.
“We must be getting close to the camp,” he whispered.
Lionblaze took the lead again, guiding Jaypaw in short dashes; Jaypaw understood that they were flitting from shadow to shadow. At last he could taste an overwhelming surge of ShadowClan scent from somewhere ahead. The ground underpaw began to rise, and became broken up, with rocks poking out of the pine-needle covering.
Soon Jaypaw felt Lionblaze’s tail barring his way. “Keep down!” his brother hissed. “Then creep forward about a tail-length.”
Jaypaw did as he was told, feeling the prickle of thorns raking the fur on his back. Sniffing, he caught the scent of gorse, and realized they must be hiding under a bush. His littermates’ pelts were pressed against his, one on either side.
“What can you see?” he demanded.
“We’re looking down into the camp. Sol is there,” Hollyleaf breathed into his ear. “Standing on top of a rock. The whole Clan is listening to him—even the kits! I can see Blackstar, and Russetfur, and… oh, there’s Tawnypelt!”
“Shut up!” Lionblaze growled. “I want to hear what Sol’s saying.”
Jaypaw flicked his ears forward. He could already make out Sol’s voice rising from the hollow, and as the others fell silent he heard what the loner was saying.
“…no cat should just accept what has gone before,” Sol meowed, his voice ringing above the faint sounds of the forest.
“StarClan’s time is over. These cats are dead, and their spirits have no power over you.”
Jaypaw suppressed a shiver. No cat who had met with StarClan at the Moonpool would agree that StarClan had no power. We will have more power, he thought. But we’re the three in the prophecy. Ordinary cats should still look to StarClan.
“I’ve shared tongues with StarClan.” Jaypaw recognized the voice of Littlecloud, the ShadowClan medicine cat. He sounded worried. “I can’t believe that our warrior ancestors are powerless. Or has everything I’ve experienced been a lie?”
“StarClan is good at deceiving,” Sol replied smoothly. “Ask yourselves, did they warn you that the sun would vanish? No!
That means either they didn’t know about it, or they don’t care about you enough to warn you. Why should any cat go on trusting them?”
Murmurs of agreement rose up to where the three ThunderClan cats were hiding. Littlecloud didn’t protest again.
“When the sun vanished, everything you believe in changed,” Sol continued. His voice was so powerful and persuasive that Jaypaw could understand how ordinary cats would be influenced by him. “What you must ask yourselves is what should you do about it? Where will you find your answers now?”
“In ourselves.” Blackstar spoke, a deeper, rougher voice than Sol’s. “What this cat says is true,” he added, addressing his Clan. “StarClan led us to live beside this lake, and I’ve always had my doubts that it was the right decision. There are too many Twolegs, for a start.”
“And too much has gone wrong,” Cedarheart growled.
“The two kittypets in the Twoleg nest—”
“Arguments about borders,” Toadfoot put in.
“Hang on a moment.” Jaypaw stiffened as he heard Tawnypelt speak up. “Things went wrong in the old forest, too. You can’t expect life to be all mice and moonlight.”
“That just goes to prove what Sol is saying.” Blackstar’s voice was harsh. “StarClan couldn’t help us there, either. They couldn’t even stop the Twolegs from driving us out.”
“What does Blackstar mean?” Lionblaze whispered, pressing closer to Jaypaw. “Does he want to lead ShadowClan away from the lake? He must have bees in his brain! One Clan alone, and leaf-bare not far off?”
“He can’t!” Hollyleaf’s voice shook. “There have to be four Clans.”
“Shhh!” Jaypaw hissed, trying to concentrate on what was happening in the hollow. But before he could hear any more, jagged lines of silver flashed across his vision. He seemed to be looking down a long forest path; moonlight silvered the forest floor, barred with black where the shadows of trees lay across it. Lumbering toward him was a badger, the white stripe down its face glowing like a silver flame. Jaypaw had barely caught his breath with shock when the creature was gone, and the familiar night of his blindness swallowed up his vision.
“What’s the matter?” Lionblaze murmured.
Jaypaw realized that all the muscles in his body were tense; he was crouching with his claws dug into the earth and every hair on his pelt bristling.
“I saw a badger!” Jaypaw remembered just in time to keep his voice low.
“You saw…?” Hollyleaf sounded bewildered.
“I had a vision.” Jaypaw was too spooked to explain in detail. “We’re in danger here.”
He heard Lionblaze draw in a long breath, and pictured his brother with his jaws gaping, tasting the air.
“There’s no badger here,” Lionblaze reported. “Are you sure you saw it?”
Jaypaw lashed his tail. “No,” he snapped. “I’m just making it up for fun. What do you think, mouse-brain?”
He paused to taste the air himself, and listened for the sound of the huge, clumsy creature trampling through the undergrowth. But the forest was still and silent, except for the sound of voices coming from the ShadowClan camp, and he couldn’t pick up the slightest trace of badger scent.
“It’s got to be a sign of something,” he mewed. “I don’t understand it yet, but I don’t think we’re safe here anymore. We should get back to the stone hollow as quickly as we can.”
“But we haven’t spoken to Sol yet,” Lionblaze protested.
“And we won’t, tonight,” Hollyleaf pointed out. “Not with all ShadowClan listening to him. I think Jaypaw’s right. We should go while we have the chance.”
Jaypaw could feel that Lionblaze was unhappy with the decision, a sullen anger with Sol churning away inside him, but his brother didn’t argue when Hollyleaf led the way down the slope away from the camp and back toward the border.
Jaypaw’s pelt didn’t lie flat again until they had waded back across the stream and were creeping through the tunnel into the ThunderClan camp. He slipped back into his den and flopped down beside the sleeping Leafpool.
Badgers, he thought as he slid into an exhausted sleep. StarClan, what are you trying to tell me?