“I wonder what Onestar is going to tell us,” Violetpaw remarked, swallowing her last mouthful of rabbit and swiping her tongue around her jaws.
“I don’t know,” Hawkwing responded, a worried look in his amber eyes. “Onestar has some kind of secret—and it looks as if Darktail thinks it gives him some kind of power over WindClan.”
“I wonder if the secret is why Onestar fled from the battle in ShadowClan’s territory after Darktail spoke to him,” Twigpaw mewed. “And it must be really important to have made him do that.”
While she was still speaking, a rustle came from the bushes at the top of the slope, and Squirrelflight appeared, followed by Bramblestar, Rowanstar, and Leafstar. Together they strode down into the bottom of the hollow.
“Where’s Onestar?” Rowanstar demanded. “What’s all this about?”
“Greetings,” Harespring meowed, dipping his head politely as he rose from where he sat a tail-length away from the entrance to Onestar’s den. “Onestar is here, but he won’t see you until all the leaders have arrived. We must wait for Mistystar.”
Rowanstar let out a growl of annoyance, his claws raking the earth of the camp floor. But before he could voice an objection, there was movement in the bushes at the far side of the camp, and Tigerheart emerged with Mistystar.
“Thank StarClan for that!” Rowanstar muttered. “Now maybe we can get this over with.”
Bramblestar glanced at the ShadowClan leader with a twitch of his whiskers. “Keep your fur on,” he advised. “We’ve been waiting for StarClan knows how long for Onestar to talk to us. Let’s try not to annoy him now.”
A bad-tempered snort was Rowanstar’s only reply.
Harespring slipped into Onestar’s den, and a moment later the WindClan leader emerged. After a curt word of greeting he beckoned the leaders closer with a wave of his tail.
“Maybe we should leave the leaders to it,” Hawkwing suggested, rising to his paws and facing the other cats.
“No.” Onestar’s voice was weary but decisive. “The way you fought today proves that you’re a worthy warrior—and besides, every cat should probably hear this.”
He remained standing as the four Clan leaders settled themselves around him, and the remaining cats sat in a ragged semicircle a fox-length farther away. Every hair on Violetpaw’s pelt was tingling with excitement, and she could see the same feeling in Twigpaw’s glittering green eyes.
“I am the reason the Clans have been blighted by Darktail and his rogues,” Onestar began. “And the story goes back many seasons, to when we lived in the old forest, when I was called Onewhisker and Tallstar was the leader of WindClan.”
The WindClan cats exchanged confused glances at their leader’s words. Violetpaw could see that even the senior warriors—the ones who remembered the time Onestar spoke of—had no idea what he was about to say.
“Onestar has kept this secret for such a long time,” she whispered to Twigpaw.
“You all know that I never expected to be chosen as deputy, or to become your leader,” Onestar continued. “Tallstar appointed me in the last moments of his life, and no cat was more astonished than I was. I felt I was unworthy…” He paused for a moment and bowed his head. “And events have proved that I was right.”
“No!” Crowfeather protested from where he sat with his Clanmates. “You’ve been a noble leader, Onestar.”
Looking up again, Onestar shook his head sadly. “When I was a young cat, back in the old forest,” he continued, “I carried out my warrior duties, but I also liked to sneak off to explore the little Twolegplace beyond the farm where Barley and Ravenpaw lived. It was fun to spend time with the kittypets there, and tell them stories about what it was like to live in a Clan.”
“I never knew that!” Whitetail, a WindClan elder, was looking outraged. “Our Clan leader going off to make friends with kittypets!”
“Well, he wasn’t leader then,” Gorsetail murmured.
“It was easy to impress them,” Onestar admitted. He paused to give his chest fur an embarrassed lick. Raising his head, he let his gaze travel over the assembled cats. He opened his jaws to continue, but at first no words came out. Violetpaw could see how much effort it took when he finally began to speak again. “I used to tell them about hunting, and learning battle moves. I was never particularly skilled at those things, but the kittypets didn’t know that, because it was all so new and fascinating to them. And if I exaggerated a bit… well, it made me feel good. They thought I was wonderful!”
“But what does this have to do with Darktail?” Bramblestar asked.
“I’m coming to that,” Onestar replied. “There was one kittypet… a young she-cat called Smoke. She had such soft, gray fur, and such brilliant blue eyes… It was like I was staring into pools of pure water!”
Squirrelflight rolled her eyes. “I see.”
“Smoke and I became… more than friends,” Onestar admitted. “She loved to hear my stories of Clan life; she couldn’t get enough of them. She was happy to be my mate, but of course I only ever saw her in the Twolegplace. There was no way I could have brought her into camp.”
Rowanstar exchanged a glance with Mistystar. “You can say that again!” he muttered. “What was the mouse-brain thinking?”
“Obviously he wasn’t thinking,” Mistystar responded tartly.
“Everything was fine,” Onestar continued, “until I found out that Smoke was expecting kits. She came to find me on the moor. Thank StarClan that I was out hunting alone, and I came across her not too far from the border of our territory!
“Smoke was almost ready to give birth. She told me that she wanted to join WindClan, so that her kits could be brought up as warriors.” He gave a heavy sigh. “You see, I’d told her such wonderful tales of Clan life, as if it was all adventure and massive piles of prey. I had not mentioned all the times we nearly starved to death in a harsh leaf-bare, or how often we might get terrorized by dogs or Twolegs… or how heartbreaking it was to lose a Clanmate.”
“What did you say to her?” Violetpaw asked curiously, then let out a faint squeak of embarrassment. She had been so caught up in the story that she hadn’t stopped to ask herself if an apprentice should be questioning a Clan leader.
“What could I say to her?” Onestar didn’t seem to realize where the question had come from. “I knew there was no way I could bring a kittypet into WindClan. I would have been in terrible trouble for mating with her in the first place, and even worse, I knew that if Tallstar did let Smoke stay, she would have seen me as I really was. Just an ordinary warrior, not the heroic cat I had made myself out to be. And anyway”—he went on rapidly, as if he was trying to get past the shameful part of the story as quickly as he could—“Smoke was so soft and delicate… She would never have survived a moon out on the moor.”
“So you sent her home?” Squirrelflight asked.
Onestar nodded. “I sent her home. I told her to go back to her Twolegs, where she would be safe. Her relationship with me was over. She argued for a while, but at last she left, and I told myself I’d had a lucky escape. I stayed away from the Twolegplace after that, and I never expected to hear from Smoke again.”
“But you did,” Bramblestar stated.
“Yes, Smoke came to find me one more time,” Onestar replied. There was bitter regret in his eyes. “She had a single kit with her, and she told me that after our last meeting, when she was still on her way home, her kits had come. She didn’t have any help—not from a cat, not even from a Twoleg. All but one of her kits—our kits—had died.”