Shadowpaw stumbled with exhaustion as he made his way down the spiral path to the hollow where the Moonpool lay. The journey from ShadowClan territory seemed to have taken twice as long as usual, and he guessed that dawn couldn’t be far away.
Fresh snow had fallen on the frozen pool since Shadowpaw’s earlier visit; he brushed it away with one forepaw, enough to clear a space of ice where he could lean forward and touch his nose to the surface. He still had no idea why he had been called here.
Is StarClan trying to reach me? Then why don’t they appear?
Straightening up again, he looked around, but nothing disturbed the frosty silence of the night. Convulsive shivers shook him; his head felt oddly full and heavy, and a feeling of dread ran through his whole body. He couldn’t remember ever having been so tired and cold.
Maybe it was a mistake to come here, he told himself wretchedly. But I was so sure.
Overhead, another rumble of thunder interrupted his thoughts. Shadowpaw flinched, looking up, but all he could see was the whirling snow.
Who was I kidding? I’ll never be a normal medicine cat. All I get are weird seizure visions that make everybody uncomfortable. I’m not sure I can make it back to camp, alone, in this weather. I must have had bees in my brain to come here.
While he still gazed upward, white light flashed out from the clouds, blazing down on the surface of the Moonpool; it was so brilliant that for a few heartbeats Shadowpaw was blinded. When his vision cleared, he glanced around to see faint flares of light in the night sky as lightning crackled in the distance. Thunder rolled again, the noise building and building until it seemed as if the whole world would split apart.
Shadowpaw crouched, terrified, under the onslaught. “But what does it all mean?” he yowled.
The only answer was another flash of lightning, brighter and closer than before. Everything went black, and with a last whimper of terror, he sank into its softness and knew nothing more.
Pain throbbed in Shadowpaw’s head as he regained consciousness, and he felt as though every muscle in his body, every hair on his pelt, was aching. His vision swam as he struggled to sit up.
Was I struck by lightning? he wondered dazedly.
He could hardly believe it, and yet all around him the snow was melted, showing blackened earth. There were spiky patches on his pelt, prickling his pad when he touched one of them.
As he gradually recovered, Shadowpaw became aware of a voice inside his head. There was no sign of where it was coming from, no star-furred cats approaching him or waiting for him in a sunny clearing. Only the voice, which he realized had been speaking for some time, always repeating the same words.
There is a darkness in the Clans that must be driven out.
Shadowpaw’s pain and exhaustion were swallowed up in panic. Scrambling away from the Moonpool, he tottered up the path to the line of bushes that guarded the hollow. He skidded down the rocky slope on the far side, half jumping and half falling, as if he could outrun the ominous voice.
But there was no escape. The voice went on repeating the same words, over and over. There is a darkness in the Clans that must be driven out. A darkness in the Clans . . .
Chapter 8
The ground under the holly bush was almost free from snow, but Rootpaw still felt wet and miserable as he huddled underneath the branches beside Dewspring. His mentor was testing him by making him recite the warrior code, but Rootpaw was finding it hard to remember.
I can’t think of anything but how cold and hungry I am!
Even so, Rootpaw had to admit that SkyClan was lucky to have its camp in this sheltered valley. He had seen for himself, when he was recovering in their camp, how much harder life was for the cats of ThunderClan.
“And what does the code tell you to do when you catch prey?” Dewspring asked.
His words made Rootpaw think of sinking his teeth into a nice juicy mouse. His jaws watered. “Eat it,” he replied.
Dewspring sighed. “We give thanks to StarClan for its life,” he mewed. “And then we carry our prey to the fresh-kill pile. The Clan must be fed first.” His tail-tip twitched in irritation. “Rootpaw, even a kit knows that! You have to concentrate.”
“I do know it,” Rootpaw grumbled, annoyed with himself. “But it’s hard to concentrate when my belly thinks my throat’s torn out.”
“I know.” Now Dewspring sounded more sympathetic. “We’ll hunt later. For now, tell me what your first duty will be when you’re made a warrior.”
“Keep vigil for—” Rootpaw began, only to be distracted as he saw Frecklewish and Fidgetflake emerge from Leafstar’s den in the gap at the base of the Tallrock, followed by the Clan leader herself and her deputy, Hawkwing. They padded across the camp toward the medicine cats’ den, their heads together as they talked, and halted a few tail-lengths away from the holly bush where Rootpaw and his mentor were crouching.
“. . . but it still worries us both that we can’t get in touch with StarClan” were the first words Rootpaw heard, from a clearly anxious Fidgetflake.
Rootpaw’s jaws gaped in astonishment. He managed a shocked “Wha—” before Dewspring silenced him with a tail slapped over his mouth.
Frecklewish nodded. “Nothing like this ever happened back in the gorge. Even when StarClan wasn’t sending us any visions or signs, we always felt that they were with us. It’s different here,” she finished sadly.
“I keep wondering if leaving the gorge and coming here has weakened our connection to our ancestors,” Fidgetflake continued. “Did we make the wrong choice?”
Leafstar sighed heavily. “Hawkwing and I, and the whole Clan, made the choices we thought were necessary. I don’t believe our warrior ancestors will abandon us forever.”
“But what happens when a cat dies?” Fidgetflake asked, alarm in his voice and his wide eyes. “They’re supposed to go to StarClan. And what if a leader were to die right now, when the connection to StarClan seems lost? Would they be able to come back? Would a new leader get their nine lives?”
“I don’t think a leader is likely to die,” Hawkwing pointed out. “None of them are sick, and we’re not at war with any Clan.”
“That’s true. Fidgetflake, you shouldn’t worry so much,” Leafstar meowed briskly. “The only danger we have to face right now is this leaf-bare.”
“But that’s bad enough,” Frecklewish murmured, so softly that Rootpaw could only just make out her words.
“So, you’re going to show me your herb stores,” Leafstar went on, beginning to move away again. “If you think there’s any hope of finding more, we’ll send out a patrol. Which cats would be best at searching, do you think?”
The group moved on, and if Frecklewish replied, Rootpaw couldn’t hear her. He exchanged a dismayed glance with Dewspring. “StarClan is lost?” he exclaimed, hardly able to believe what he had just heard. “What are we going to do about it?”
“Not get our tails in a twist,” Dewspring responded. “Whatever the problem is, we can rely on Leafstar, Hawkwing, and the medicine cats to guide us through it.”
Even though he spoke so confidently, he had a worried and distracted air, and Rootpaw could guess that he didn’t believe his own words. He wants to reassure me, but he’s just as anxious as I am.
“But we—” Rootpaw began.
“Enough of lazing around under this bush,” Dewspring interrupted with forced cheerfulness. “It’s time to go hunting and bring back something for the fresh-kill pile.” He rose and led the way into the open.