“Some rogues passed through the edges of our territory,” Onestar continued. “Crowfeather led a patrol to keep an eye on them, and the rogues left without making any trouble. They’ll be a long way away by now.”
“I’d have clawed their ears off if they’d come to ShadowClan,” Beepaw murmured, sliding out her claws. “That’d teach them not to trespass on our territory.”
“WindClan has always been weak,” Needlepaw added. “That’s what I heard Tawnypelt telling Crowfrost, anyway.”
Sleekpaw bent forward to mutter something into Needlepaw’s ear, but Alderpaw stopped listening, as Bramblestar had just risen to make his report.
“The prey is running well in ThunderClan,” the tabby tom meowed. “And two new apprentices, Alderpaw and Sparkpaw, have begun training with their mentors, Molewhisker and Cherryfall.”
Alderpaw was aware of every cat turning to look at him and his littermate. Some of them yowled out their names. “Alderpaw! Sparkpaw!”
Utterly embarrassed, he lowered his head to lick his chest fur. It was bad enough being the center of attention when it was just my own Clan!
Sparkpaw, however, was preening, thoroughly enjoying the welcoming yowls of the other cats.
Bramblestar had taken his seat on the branch again, and Rowanstar stepped forward.
“Prey is plentiful in ShadowClan,” he reported.
“Honestly!” Needlepaw whispered. “Does any cat expect him to say anything else? If we were all starving, he’d say just the same. He must think we’re all mouse-brained.”
Alderpaw was shocked all over again at the disrespectful way Needlepaw spoke. Don’t these cats even respect their own leader? I would never talk about Bramblestar like that!
He was sure that Rowanstar wasn’t lying. These sleek she-cats obviously had all the prey they could eat.
“Twolegs are still using the greenleaf
Twolegplace on our territory,” Rowanstar went on. “But they haven’t caused much trouble, and as the weather gets colder over the next couple of moons, we don’t expect to see much of them.”
“And it can’t be soon enough for me,” Needlepaw muttered.
“Two of our apprentices have been made warriors.” Rowanstar glanced down proudly, sweeping his tail around to indicate a white tom and a yellow she-cat, who stood close together near the Great Oak. “Stonewing and Wasptail.”
The two new warriors stood up straighter, their eyes gleaming, as their Clanmates yowled their names enthusiastically. Most of the other cats joined in.
“Also,” Rowanstar continued when the clamor had died down, “four kits have been made apprentices. Beepaw is apprenticed to Dawnpelt, Sleekpaw to Tigerheart, Juniperpaw to Stonewing, and Strikepaw to Wasptail.”
Instead of yowling to acclaim the new apprentices, a murmur of surprise arose from all the cats. Onestar looked sharply at the ginger tom. “Is ShadowClan really giving apprentices to brand-new warriors now?” he asked disapprovingly.
“By the time ShadowClan cats are warriors,” Rowanstar retorted, the faintest suggestion of a growl in his voice, “they’re ready for anything. Other Clans need to stay out of ShadowClan business.”
Alderpaw noticed that the ShadowClan apprentices sitting beside him were looking a bit smug.
“ShadowClan has lots of apprentices,” Needlepaw informed him loftily. “Rowanstar doesn’t know what to do with us all.”
“That’s nice for you,” Sparkpaw mewed pertly.
Alderpaw felt even more strongly that it was weird, both the way the ShadowClan apprentices talked about their leader and the fact that an apprentice would be so casual about sharing her Clan’s weaknesses with others.
He was distracted from his thoughts when he noticed that the four Clan leaders had drawn closer together in the branches of the oak tree and were speaking to one another in low tones.
A moment later Rowanstar stepped forward again. “The medicine cats have something to say to all the Clans,” he announced. “Something important that they have only discussed with their leaders so far.”
A tense silence fell among the Clans as the medicine cats gathered together in front of the Great Oak. As well as Leafpool and Jayfeather, Alderpaw recognized Mothwing and her apprentice, Willowshine, from when they had visited the ThunderClan camp.
“That old tom must be Littlecloud from ShadowClan,” he murmured to Sparkpaw.
“So the cat with the splotchy gray fur is Kestrelflight from WindClan,” Sparkpaw responded.
The medicine cats conferred together rapidly before Kestrelflight leaped up onto one of the oak roots beside the deputies.
“All of us have shared a vision,” he began.
“We received a prophecy that is vital to all our Clans.”
Meows of shock and confusion rose from the cats around him as he finished speaking.
“Why would StarClan give you a shared vision?” some cat called out.
“Which cat spoke to you all?”
“It’s been seasons since we had a prophecy!”
The clamor grew louder and louder until
Jayfeather stood up, lashing his tail. “For StarClan’s sake, shut up and listen!” he snapped.
Gradually the noise died down, until
Kestrelflight could make himself heard again.
“Firestar spoke to us first,” he reported.
“Oh, yeah, it would be Firestar!” Needlepaw muttered. “He has his tail in every cat’s business, even now he’s dead.”
“He said, ‘Embrace what you find in the shadows, for only they can clear the sky.’”
“And what did he mean by that?”
Harespring, the WindClan deputy, asked.
“We don’t know,” Kestrelflight replied.
Harespring sniffed. “Well, great.”
As he listened to Kestrelflight, Alderpaw couldn’t shake off the feeling that all this was somehow familiar. He could almost picture a large cat with a flame-colored pelt—a cat he had never seen—speaking the words. Could that have been Firestar? But everything was vague, like a half-remembered dream; he tried to push the shadowy memory away and focus on what was being said.
When Kestrelflight fell silent, agitated voices rose all around him.
“What does it mean?”
“What would we find ‘in the shadows’?”
“And how are we supposed to find it if we don’t know what it is?”
“Maybe it’s ShadowClan?”
“If you ask me,” a scarred ShadowClan elder hissed, “what should be embraced is a bit more respect for senior warriors.”
Beepaw and Needlepaw shared a quiet purr of laughter. “Ratscar’s always saying that!”
Beepaw murmured.
A pretty RiverClan apprentice raised her tail. “I found some really beautiful blue feathers that I decorated my nest with in a shady glen,” she meowed. “Do you think they could be important?”
An older RiverClan tabby—her mentor, Alderpaw guessed—gave her a sharp cuff over the ear. “Stupid furball!”
“Our old territory, back in the forest, was filled with shadows,” Onestar murmured. He looked old and frail, his eyes full of memories.
“So much was lost to us when we left.”
“But how could we possibly find our old territory?” Mistystar asked. Her voice was warm and sympathetic, and she stretched out her tail to draw the tip down the WindClan leader’s flank. “It’s gone.”
“I’ve got a question.” Cloudtail rose from where he was sitting beside Brightheart and Whitewing and faced the medicine cats. “Do we think this prophecy applies to all the Clans? Or was it meant for Jayfeather specifically?”