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ICEWING—white she-cat with blue eyes

MINNOWTAIL—dark gray she-cat

APPRENTICE, MOSSYPAW (brown-and-white she-cat)

PEBBLEFOOT—mottled gray tom

APPRENTICE, RUSHPAW (light brown tabby tom)

MALLOWNOSE—light brown tabby tom

ROBINWING—tortoiseshell-and-white tom

BEETLEWHISKER—brown-and-white tabby tom

PETALFUR—gray-and-white she-cat

GRASSPELT—light brown tom

QUEENS

DUSKFUR—brown tabby she-cat

MOSSPELT—tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes

ELDERS

BLACKCLAW—smoky black tom

VOLETOOTH—small brown tabby tom

DAWNFLOWER—pale gray she-cat

DAPPLENOSE—mottled gray she-cat

POUNCETAIL—ginger-and-white tom

CATS OUTSIDE CLANS

SMOKY—muscular gray-and-white tom who lives in a barn at the horseplace

FLOSS—small gray-and-white she-cat who lives at the horseplace

OTHER ANIMALS

MIDNIGHT—a star-gazing badger who lives by the sea

Map

Prologue

Water poured over the lip of the rock in a smooth curve and roared down into a chasm. Far below, it tumbled and foamed into a pool. The rays of the setting sun set a myriad of trapped rainbows dancing in the spray.

Three cats sat on the edge of the river just upstream of the waterfall. They watched as a fourth cat approached, stalking delicately across the shaggy moss that covered the riverbank. Starlight sparkled at her paws and misted on her gray-blue fur.

The newcomer halted and raked the waiting cats with an icy blue stare. “In the name of all Clans, why did you choose to meet here?” she demanded, irritably shaking one forepaw. “It’s far too wet, and I can’t hear myself think.”

Another she-cat, with ragged gray fur, rose to face her. “Stop complaining, Bluestar. I chose this place because it’s damp and noisy. I have things to say that I don’t want any other cat to overhear.”

A golden tabby tom beckoned with his tail. “Come and sit by me. There’s a dry spot just here.”

Bluestar padded across to him and sat down with a contemptuous sniff. “If this is dry, Lionheart, then I’m a mouse.” Turning to the gray she-cat, she added, “Well, Yellowfang? What is it?”

“The prophecy has not been fulfilled,” Yellowfang meowed. “The Three have come together at last, but two of the cats might not recognize the third.”

“Are you sure we’ve got the right Three this time?” Bluestar asked sharply.

“You know we have.” The speaker, a beautiful tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat, dipped her head gently toward the cat who had been her Clan leader. “Didn’t we all have the same dream on the night the One was born?”

Bluestar flicked the tip of her tail. “You could be right, Spottedleaf. But so much has gone wrong that it’s hard to trust anything now.”

“Of course she’s right.” Yellowfang twitched her ears. “But if Jayfeather and Lionblaze don’t recognize the One, there could be more trouble. I want to send them a sign.”

“What?” Bluestar rose to her paws again, waving her tail commandingly as if she still held authority over the old medicine cat. “Yellowfang, have you forgotten that this prophecy isn’t even ours? It could be dangerous to interfere with it. I think we should leave it alone.”

Spottedleaf blinked, puzzled. “Dangerous?”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to have cats in the Clans who are more powerful than the stars?” Bluestar challenged, facing each cat in turn. “More powerful than us, their warrior ancestors?” She swept her tail in a gesture to include her unseen Clanmates, who were elsewhere in the beautiful, prey-filled forest. “What will become of ThunderClan if—”

“Have faith, Bluestar,” Lionheart interrupted gently. “These are good and loyal cats.”

“We thought that about Hollyleaf!” Bluestar retorted.

“We won’t be wrong again,” Yellowfang mewed. “Wherever the prophecy came from, we have to trust it. And we have to trust our Clanmates beside the lake.”

Spottedleaf opened her jaws to speak, only to turn sharply at the sound of another cat brushing through the undergrowth a few fox-lengths farther upstream. A silver-furred she-cat burst out into the open and raced toward them, starlight swirling around her.

“Feathertail!” Bluestar exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Are you spying on us?”

“We’re all Clanmates now,” the former RiverClan warrior reminded her. “I guessed why you were meeting, and—”

“This is ThunderClan business, Feathertail,” Yellowfang pointed out, with just a hint of her sharp yellow teeth.

“No, it’s not!” Feathertail flashed back at her. “Jayfeather and Lionblaze are half WindClan—Crowfeather’s sons.” Her blue eyes filled with distress. “I care about what happens to them. I have to watch over them. And I grieve for Hollyleaf just as much as you do.”

Spottedleaf stretched out her tail to touch the silver she-cat on the shoulder. “She’s right. Let her stay.”

Yellowfang shrugged. “They aren’t your sons, Feathertail,” she cautioned with unexpected gentleness. “We can warn them and guide them, but in the end they will go their own way.”

“All sons and daughters do that, Yellowfang,” Bluestar commented.

For a few heartbeats Yellowfang’s expression darkened, and her amber gaze was fixed on the distance, as if she saw a lifetime of painful memories sketched in the sky. The sun was slipping down below the horizon, the red-streaked clouds fading to indigo. In the pool below the waterfall, the whirling foam shone pale in the shadows.

“So what do we do now?” Lionheart prompted. “Yellowfang, you mentioned sending a sign.”

“I still think we shouldn’t get involved,” Bluestar insisted before Yellowfang could reply. “The third cat is already strong and clever, even if we don’t know what her special power will be. If she’s the right one, won’t she figure everything out by herself?”

“We can’t sit by and do nothing!” Feathertail protested, sinking her claws into the damp ground. “These young cats need our help.”

“I think so, too,” Lionheart agreed with a nod toward the silver she-cat. “If we had meddled more”—he glanced at Bluestar—“Hollyleaf might not have been lost.”

Bluestar’s neck fur bristled. “Hollyleaf made her own choices. These cats have to live their own lives. No cat can do it for them.”

“No, but we can guide them,” Spottedleaf meowed. “I agree with Yellowfang. I think we should send a sign.”

“I can see you’ve all made up your minds.” Bluestar sighed, letting her neck fur lie flat again. “Very well, do what you wish.”

“I will send an Omen.” Yellowfang bowed her head; briefly the other cats saw beyond her matted fur and brusque manner to the deep wisdom of the medicine cat she had once been. “An Omen of the Stars.”

“Which cat will you send it to?” Bluestar asked. “Lionblaze or Jayfeather?”