Good, he thought. It worked!
Shadowsight padded down the path and approached the water’s edge, leaning over to stare down into the pool. What was my dream trying to tell me? he asked himself.
Crouching down, he closed his eyes and pressed his nose to the icy surface of the water. At once he could hear the weak voice again. “Help! Help!”
Shadowsight opened his eyes and gasped at what he could see, deep, deep beneath the surface of the water: Bramblestar’s hazy amber eyes, staring at him with a look of desperation. “Help!” the voice came again.
“I must have bees in my brain to be doing this,” Shadowsight muttered to himself as he rose and stood poised at the very edge of a rock that overhung the pool. He wasn’t a RiverClan cat, and he knew he couldn’t swim.
But I’m between worlds. . . . Maybe my ghost can swim? Or maybe a ghost can’t drown?
Before his fear could overwhelm him completely, Shadowsight leaped into the waters of the Moonpool. He sank down, down, farther down, his ears filled with the sound of rushing water.
He couldn’t see Bramblestar’s eyes any longer, and darkness was growing all around him. Was it all a trick? Shadowsight wondered. What if I’m just dying?
Then, through the darkness, Shadowsight made out something below him: branches growing up from the bottom of the Moonpool, tangled with vines and bramble tendrils. Unable to stop himself, he plunged into the middle of them and felt the vines winding themselves around his legs and tail. When he fought to free himself, the bramble thorns tore at his fur.
Even though in his spirit form Shadowsight didn’t need to breathe, panic overtook him and he began to struggle. But his thrashing only weakened him, tangling him further in the thorns. He knew that he ought to go on fighting, but his whole body was crying out for rest. His strength ebbing, he closed his eyes. His body grew limp, and he did not move again.
As he came to himself, Shadowsight realized that he was no longer in the waters of the Moonpool. He was lying on something soft; the tangling vines and tearing brambles were gone. He opened his eyes and staggered to his paws.
All around Shadowsight stretched massive trees, as far as he could see. Grass covered the ground, with thickets of fern and bramble here and there; in the darkness they looked like huge, crouching animals waiting to pounce.
When Shadowsight raised his head, he could see nothing but blackness beyond the interlacing branches; there was not even a glimmer of light from the moon or stars.
And there never will be, Shadowsight thought, a deep shudder running through his body from ears to tail-tip, for he realized now where he was. This is the Dark Forest . . . the Place of No Stars.
Terror swelled inside him as he took in his surroundings. The only light came from thick fungus growing on the trunks of the trees, which let out a sickly, pale glow. The sweetish scent of rotting crow-food filled the air; Shadowsight swiped his tongue over his jaws in a vain attempt to get rid of the taste.
How do I get out of here? he thought. Then he braced himself. He knew that he had been led here for a purpose; all he had to do was discover what that purpose was.
He remembered what the false Bramblestar had said about connections between worlds . . . if a cat was clever enough to find them. Is this how the impostor got to the lake?
Shadowsight began to explore, taking a random path among the trees. Out of the corner of his eye he could glimpse dark flickers, but when he turned to confront the movement, there was nothing there. Distant echoes reached his ears, as if he could hear the voices of cats stranded here. But he couldn’t see them; they felt just out of reach.
Once, this place must have been full of cats, Shadowsight thought, remembering the stories the older warriors told of how the first Tigerstar had trained the Dark Forest cats for a battle against the living Clans. Many of those warriors had died in the battle, and now the forest was almost deserted.
But not quite. Shadowsight shivered. Are any of the survivors here now? Are they watching me? His pelt prickled with apprehension, but as he padded on, no cat appeared to challenge him. Gradually he grew calmer.
Then through the trees he spotted what at first he thought was a particularly large bramble thicket. As he drew closer, he saw that it was made out of thorn branches and the whippy shoots of saplings, interlaced with vines and bramble tendrils.
It’s like a den. . . . Is this where the Dark Forest cats live?
Shadowsight’s immediate instinct was to stay far away from the den or mound or whatever it was. It reeked of danger. But then he realized that this might be what he had been sent to find. At the very least, he needed to investigate it.
To begin with, keeping a safe distance, he padded all around the thing in a wide circle. “It can’t be a den,” he murmured. “There’s no entrance.”
Venturing closer, he tried to peer through the branches to see if there was anything inside. To his amazement, he spotted the glint of water. There’s a pool in there! Why would any cat build this thing over a pool?
The chinks in the interwoven branches at ground level were too small to give Shadowsight a good view. Padding around the outside again, he noticed a larger gap a few tail-lengths farther up; letting his spirit form float upward, he hooked his claws onto the branch below the gap and tried to peer through.
An ivy tendril was blocking his view, and without thinking Shadowsight raised a paw to brush it aside. To his surprise, the tendril moved easily, and he was able to drape it over a nearby jutting twig.
Interesting, he thought. So even though I’m a spirit, I can move things here.
With the obstacle out of the way, Shadowsight could see the surface of the pool, and he let out a gasp of wonder and amazement. From side to side the whole of the water was glittering with innumerable stars. For a moment he thought it was reflecting a cloudless starry night, but there were no stars above, only the dark tangle of interwoven branches.
“What is that?” Shadowsight meowed aloud. “Is it StarClan?”
Then he realized that if he could truly see StarClan shining from the pool, then the mound he was clinging to must be a barrier.
And if it is . . . is this what is keeping StarClan away from the living Clans? Did a cat build this?
He pushed his paws against the woven branches, then braced himself and heaved at them with his shoulder, but they wouldn’t move, and the gap was far too small for him to climb through. At last, exhausted, he gave up, resting his head against the branches that framed the gap. For a few heartbeats more Shadowsight let his gaze rest on the beauty of StarClan. “I will release you,” he promised. “I don’t know how, yet, but I will do it.”
Then he let himself drop from the side of the barrier and turned back to the forest, eager now to find a way out.
With no idea which direction he should follow, Shadowsight let his paws take him where they wanted, weaving aimlessly through the trees. He tried not to look too deeply into the shadows, or try to imagine what might be waiting to drop onto him from the branches above.
He had lost count of how long he had been wandering in the pallid light of the fungi when he thought he heard a faint cry coming from somewhere ahead. He halted, angling his ears forward to listen.
The cry came again, and now Shadowsight could distinguish the words. “Help! Help me!”