Prologue
Spiresight stretched himself out on a sun-warmed rock, enjoying the last rays as the sky above his head turned to scarlet. It was peaceful here, in the little clearing surrounded by bramble thickets. In fact, his whole existence had been peaceful since he had died. His last moons traveling with the ShadowClan cats, his death saving one of their kits, seemed almost like a dream. Even though Tigerstar had given him a warrior name and begged StarClan to admit him to their hunting grounds, he had chosen to remain a ghost, free to wander between the lake and the city without any cat to challenge him.
Spiresight had only known a small number of ShadowClan cats during his life, but since his death he had taken the opportunity to observe all the Clans, to try to understand them.
I have a pretty good idea of how they work now, he thought. And the more I learn, the more I think something is wrong.
The shiver that passed through Spiresight’s pelt was not just because of the dying sun. His sense of unease deepened. It was more than just his fear that danger was lurking within the Clans . . . suddenly, he felt sure that a specific cat needed his help. But who?
Since he’d died, Spiresight had never felt such a strong sense of urgency. He jumped up and sped toward the lake, his ghostly paws skimming the surface of the ground. Something seemed to be tugging at him, opening up a path before him.
Twilight gathered around Spiresight as he ran; clots of deeper darkness formed beneath the trees. Before he reached the lake, he spotted a brown tom striding purposefully through the forest, the white splotches on his pelt glimmering eerily in the dusk. Spiresight took a sniff, but his instincts told him this was not the cat he was looking for. He ran on.
Soon he heard a rustling in the bushes and paused, all his senses alert. Just ahead of him he picked up the strong scent of crushed catmint. Taking a couple of cautious paces forward, Spiresight poked his head around a clump of fern and blinked in surprise.
Just off the path he had been following, a cat was rolling in a clump of catmint, working it thoroughly into his fur. By now it was too dark for Spiresight to make out any details, though he could see that the cat was a muscular, powerful tom.
Spiresight’s sense of danger sharpened. This is part of what has drawn me here, he realized.
He doubted whether the other cat would be able to see him, but even so he moved as stealthily as he could as he drew closer. He was still a couple of tail-lengths away when the tom abruptly sat up, then settled into a hunter’s crouch, peering into the undergrowth ahead of him. Almost immediately, he pounced, vanishing among the clustering ferns and bushes.
A cry split the silence of the night. Spiresight froze as he recognized the voice. That’s Shadowsight!
Shadowsight had been only a kit when Spiresight died—in fact, it was his life that Spiresight had saved in his last moments. Even then, Spiresight could tell the kit was special. And now Shadowsight had grown into a gifted medicine cat. Spiresight pushed his way through the bushes to see the powerful tom attacking Shadowsight, raking his claws across the young medicine cat’s defenseless back. As Spiresight watched in horror, he gripped Shadowsight by the scruff, gave him a vigorous shake, then slammed his body against a nearby tree trunk before letting him drop.
Shadowsight fell limply to the ground. His paws twitched briefly, then grew still.
Spiresight let out a yowl of shock and anger. He flung himself at the tom, clawing at his shoulder and throat, but his paws passed harmlessly through the tom’s thick fur.
Spiresight flung back his head and let out a yowl, a desperate attempt to summon other cats to help. But there was no response. I’m a ghost; I should have known no cat could hear me.
The tom picked up Shadowsight’s body and began dragging him deeper into the undergrowth. Spiresight followed, his eyes wide with dismay.
After a while, Spiresight realized that the tom was heading toward a rocky area on the border between ThunderClan and SkyClan. When he reached it, he scrambled among the rocks, dragging the motionless body of the young medicine cat between his forepaws. Suddenly Spiresight realized what he intended to do.
“No!” he snarled, leaping forward, but once again the tom didn’t even flinch. Spiresight watched in horror as he swung Shadowsight by the scruff and tossed his body into a deep ravine. The limp gray form bounced off a jutting rock and landed beside the roots of a twisted thorn tree.
The burly tom gazed down at him for a moment, then whipped his head around in Spiresight’s direction, his eyes wide and watchful. For a moment Spiresight froze, almost certain that the cat had spotted him. But a heartbeat later the large tom turned and raced away, vanishing into the undergrowth.
Spiresight gazed down into the ravine, his fear turning to despair; by now the darkness was so deep that he could hardly make out Shadowsight’s body lying on the rocky ground. I refused StarClan so I could watch over my friends. Why was I forced to witness this?