The gray-blue she-cat dipped her head as she rose to her paws. “RiverClan is doing well,” she began. “The lake is full of fish . . .”
“RiverClan cats eat fish!” exclaimed Beepaw. “Can you imagine? No wonder they’re so smelly.”
Alderpaw glanced around to see if any ShadowClan warriors would correct Beepaw’s behavior, but there were none within earshot. He hoped furiously that Mistystar hadn’t heard the comment, but if she had, she ignored it.
“A new litter of four kits has been born to Lakeheart,” she announced, then dipped her head again to Rowanstar before resuming her seat.
“Onestar?” Rowanstar gestured to the WindClan leader.
“Hunting has been good on the moor,” Onestar announced.
“I bet he hasn’t done much hunting,” Needlepaw muttered. “Creaky old mange-pelt!”
“Yeah, my mentor said he couldn’t catch a blind hedgehog, never mind a rabbit,” Sleekpaw responded.
They’re talking about a Clan leader! Alderpaw couldn’t help but be amused, and he heard a suppressed snort of laughter from Sparkpaw. But he was shocked by their comments, and even more shocked that ShadowClan warriors would talk like that in front of apprentices.
“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 R
iverClan 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?”
“Good question,” Littlecloud responded.
“Firestar prefaced it with ‘a time of great change is coming for all the Clans,’” Jayfeather replied. “Which would seem to mean, yes, this is meant for all of us.”
A new swell of voices, confused and angry, rose from all four Clans.
“Is StarClan saying that we all must embrace what we find in the shadows—whatever that is?” Crowfrost demanded.
Alderpaw could feel the tension in the clearing, as if a covering of cold, dark fog had suddenly descended. Cats were sharing uneasy glances and muttering to one another in low voices.
“This is so exciting!” Sparkpaw whispered. “Maybe we’ll find the shadowy thing and save ThunderClan.”
“I doubt it,” Alderpaw responded. I don’t feel ready to be heroic.
“What?” Needlepaw had obviously overheard. “No ThunderClan cat is better at finding things than any ShadowClan cat!”
“You would say that!” Sparkpaw flashed back at her. “Just you wait and see!”
“I think the whole idea is silly,” Sleekpaw mewed disdainfully, though Alderpaw noticed that she kept her voice low while she said it. “Prophecies and StarClan and all that stuff are just ridiculous!”
Alderpaw and Sparkpaw exchanged a shocked glance. Does Sleekpaw not believe in StarClan? Alderpaw wondered. That’s terrible! He thought that Needlepaw and Beepaw were shocked too, silent for a few heartbeats, even though they finally forced out short purrs of laughter.
A sudden prickling sensation at the back of his neck made Alderpaw feel that some cat was looking at him. He glanced over his shoulder toward the Great Oak, and his pelt began to prickle with alarm. Seated at the foot of the tree with the other medicine cats, Leafpool was staring directly at him.
Why?
CHAPTER 4
“Alderpaw, will you concentrate!” Molewhisker gave an irritable lash of his tail. “Any kit could learn this move.”
The two apprentices were battle training with their mentors in a clearing near the camp. Molewhisker was teaching them to rear up on their hind paws so they could attack their opponent from above. Sparkpaw had gotten the idea right away, and Alderpaw’s ears were smarting from the blows she had landed on him. But somehow every time he tried it, he would overbalance, or Sparkpaw would slip aside before his blows could connect.
Alderpaw knew exactly why he couldn’t give all his attention to training. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling Leafpool’s gaze had given him at the Gathering the night before. Why was she always staring at him? Until recently, neither of the medicine cats had paid any attention to him, apart from the time he had gotten a thorn in his paw when he was a kit. Now he felt as if they were aware of him all the time. I don’t like it, he told himself.
“That’s enough battle training for today,” Molewhisker meowed with a sigh. “Cherryfall, why don’t you and Sparkpaw collect your prey from earlier? Alderpaw, you and I will try hunting in another part of the forest.”
“Okay,” Cherryfall agreed. “We might see what else we can catch on the way back. Good luck, Alderpaw.”
She and Sparkpaw headed back toward the camp. Sparkpaw had a bounce in her step; in the earlier hunting session she had caught a fat thrush and a squirrel, and Cherryfall couldn’t praise her highly enough.
“Come on, Alderpaw.” Molewhisker turned to pad deeper into the forest. “Maybe you’ll hunt better without your littermate close by.”
Fat chance, Alderpaw thought gloomily as he followed his mentor. I haven’t caught anything yet. Not just today, but ever. Sparkpaw catches stuff all the time.
Once again his thoughts drifted back to Leafpool’s steady gaze on him. Medicine cats know things, he reflected. Maybe she knows that there’s something wrong with me, and I’ll never be a good warrior.
He was worrying so much that he didn’t realize Molewhisker had halted and was speaking to him. All he heard was the final words: “. . . try doing it that way.”
“Sorry,” he mewed. “Would you mind saying that again?”
Molewhisker flexed his claws, and his voice was sharp as he replied. “Alderpaw, you need to pay attention. A cat who can’t hunt is no good to his Clan.”
Alderpaw flinched at the harsh tone. Molewhisker gazed at him and sighed, shaking his head slightly. He was obviously making a massive effort to regain his patience.
“I want you to focus very intensely on one small area at a time while you’re looking for prey,” he meowed. “Don’t open your ears and nose to all the territory around you.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” Alderpaw responded.
After glancing around, he picked out the undergrowth at the foot of an oak tree and concentrated all his senses on it. Eventually he heard something scratching among the tree roots; tasting the air, he recognized the scent of mouse.
Alderpaw dropped into the hunter’s crouch and crept forward. He remembered everything Molewhisker had taught him: to keep low, his belly fur brushing the ground, and to keep his tail curled against his side.
He set down his paws as lightly as he could, and as he drew closer to the tree, his whole pelt tingled with the thought of victory. This time I’m going to do it. . . . I’m sure of it!
Now he could see the small, gray body of the mouse crouched behind a tuft of long grass. His jaws were already watering at the anticipated taste of prey. But just as he was readying himself to pounce, a twig cracked underneath his forepaw. With a flicker, the mouse was gone.
Alderpaw halted, letting out a growl of frustration. He didn’t dare look at Molewhisker until his mentor stood right over him.
Molewhisker’s tail-tip was twitching in agitation. “Maybe that’s enough for today,” he meowed, his voice tightly controlled.
He was silent as he led the way back to camp, and Alderpaw followed in a fog of despair. It’s all going wrong! Whoever heard of a warrior who can’t fight and can’t hunt?
As soon as they emerged from the thorn tunnel into the camp, Bramblestar bounded over to them. “Molewhisker, I need a word with you,” he meowed. “Come up to my den.”
“Okay, Bramblestar.” Molewhisker glanced back as he followed his leader toward the tumbled rocks. “Alderpaw, you can get something to eat.”
Alderpaw trudged over to the fresh-kill pile. Sparkpaw was already there, tucking into the thrush she had caught. “How did it go?” she asked.
“Awful,” Alderpaw replied. “I missed another really easy catch.”
“Oh, mouse dung!” Sparkpaw’s gaze was sympathetic, and she pressed her muzzle briefly into Alderpaw’s shoulder. “Never mind. You can share this thrush. There’s plenty.”
“Thanks,” Alderpaw mewed miserably. Am I always going to depend on other cats for food?
As he took his first bite, Sparkpaw glanced curiously up at Bramblestar’s den on the Highledge. “Are you in trouble?” she asked. “Is that why Bramblestar is talking to Molewhisker?”
Alderpaw’s belly lurched. I never thought of that. I was just so relieved to have the training over. “Of course not,” he responded, gazing nervously up at the Highledge. But he couldn’t keep a quaver out of his voice, and he knew Sparkpaw realized he didn’t believe what he was saying.
As he watched, Bramblestar and Molewhisker emerged from the den, Jayfeather
and Leafpool walking in their wake. All four cats climbed down the tumbled rocks to the ground. Bramblestar waved his tail to beckon Alderpaw. Oh, StarClan! It is about me, Alderpaw thought. Exchanging a glance with his sister, he swallowed and headed toward his Clan leader.
“I know you’ve been working hard as an apprentice,” Bramblestar began as Alderpaw joined him. His voice and his eyes were kind. “I’m really proud of all you’ve learned. But sometimes a cat can find himself halfway down the wrong path.”
Alderpaw blinked at his father. “I don’t understand.”
Bramblestar’s eyes softened. “It appears that you now have a new destiny: you’re going to be a medicine-cat apprentice.”
Alderpaw gaped. “What?” He had expected to be punished for his failure, but never that he would be taken away from Molewhisker altogether. “I’m not going to be a warrior anymore?”
Bramblestar nodded to the two medicine cats. “Leafpool and Jayfeather saw your new destiny in a vision.”
“But I can’t!” Alderpaw had never in his wildest imaginings thought of being a medicine cat. I’d be even more useless at that!
Besides, he couldn’t really believe in this vision. Surely it was just an excuse so that Bramblestar could protect his feelings. Leafpool and Jayfeather don’t need another medicine cat, he thought. He was so horrified and humiliated that he wanted to flee from the camp and run and run until he was far away from any cat who knew about his failure.
“Please,” he begged. “I promise I’ll do better. I’ll listen to Molewhisker and try really hard!”
“I know you’ve already been trying hard,” Molewhisker told him sympathetically. “I’m not angry with you.”
Leafpool took a step forward. “This isn’t a punishment,” she explained. “Jayfeather and I asked Bramblestar for this.”
“They said they believe you’ll be able to talk with StarClan,” Bramblestar put in.
Alderpaw began to realize that his Clan leader, his father, wouldn’t lie to him. But he was still doubtful. I can’t think what’s given Leafpool and Jayfeather the idea that I can speak to StarClan. “Isn’t there anything I can do to make you change your mind?” he asked desperately.