I murdered my own son!
Shuddering as he drew in a deep breath, Jayfeather struggled out of the nightmarish visions and back into reality.
This was Brokenstar. Yellowfang’s kit!
The cat was staring at his mother with cold contempt, his bared yellow teeth glinting in the eerie light.
Jayfeather backed away, pressing against Yellowfang’s pelt. “You were his mother?” he breathed. “But you were a medicine cat!”
Yellowfang dragged her gaze from her son and stared at Jayfeather. “Mistakes happen,” she growled.
Jayfeather flinched away. Mistakes happen? Is that how she sees me?
Spottedleaf’s sweet breath brushed his ear fur. “You weren’t a mistake, Jayfeather. Your mother always loved you.” She glanced at Brokenstar. “You were always loved, Jayfeather.”
Brokenstar hissed, “What do you want?”
Jayfeather opened his mouth, reaching for something to say. But his mind still whirled with everything he had seen and learned about Yellowfang in those few moments of shared memory.
I trusted her!
She was no better than Leafpool!
Spottedleaf pushed past both of them and faced Brokenstar. “What are you doing?” Her mew was commanding.
Brokenstar looked at her as if he had only just noticed she was there. “Nothing.”
“I’m talking about training the cats from the Clans by the lake,” she pressed.
Brokenstar blinked, his eyes softening into enticing pools. “Training cats by the lake?” Brokenstar’s mew rang with the innocence of a kit. “Why would we do that?”
Spottedleaf refused to be swayed. “That’s what we want to know.”
Brokenstar swept his tail behind him. “Look around,” he purred invitingly. “Explore a little.”
Jayfeather found himself following the warrior’s gaze as it flitted over the dank, gray trees and wreaths of mist.
“See as much of my home as you like,” he urged.
“Okay.” Spottedleaf took a step forward but he blocked her.
“But of course,” he murmured sweetly, “if I let StarClan see the Dark Forest, then StarClan must allow me to visit their hunting grounds.” He showed his teeth. “Isn’t that only fair? Surely the warrior code would expect it.” His mouth twisted into a sneer.
Yellowfang leaped forward and crouched, bristling, in front of him. “That will never happen!”
Brokenstar shrugged. “Then you can’t come any farther into my territory.”
He turned away.
Jayfeather leaped after him, hackles up.
“No!” Spottedleaf blocked his attack, shouldering him away. “It’s not a fight you would win,” she insisted, holding his gaze.
Disappointed, Jayfeather nodded. She was right. If only Lionblaze could come here!
“Come on.” Spottedleaf turned and gently nosed Yellowfang back along the path. The old cat’s eyes stared blankly ahead of her. Jayfeather had no wish to probe her thoughts now. Her eyes showed nothing but pain.
They padded along the path until Brokenstar had faded into the mist behind them.
Jayfeather stumbled suddenly as Spottedleaf nudged his shoulder. Bundling him off the path, she pushed him into the low verge of wilting gray ferns. Yellowfang halted and stared around, confused.
“Over here!” Spottedleaf hissed at her.
Bewildered, Yellowfang slid in beside them. “What are you doing?”
“Go home,” Spottedleaf ordered. “You’re no help to us while Brokenstar is around. He clouds your judgment.” She touched her muzzle to the old cat’s shoulder. “Go back to StarClan,” she murmured, “where you are loved.”
Yellowfang blinked at her and sighed. “Very well.”
“If we don’t return,” Spottedleaf added, “send a patrol for us.”
Yellowfang nodded. “I’ll wait for you by the waterfall.” She nosed her way through the ferns. “Be careful!”
“We will,” Spottedleaf promised. She led Jayfeather farther from the path, weaving through the dank undergrowth, only half-visible in the mist.
Jayfeather kept close, his paws wet and cold as he padded over the sticky earth.
Water murmured ahead of them as they crept from the ferns. A sluggish river heaved its way through the forest, its waters dark and lifeless.
Spottedleaf scanned the bank. No fallen tree spanned the water. No rocks dotted its course. Jayfeather shuddered. He hoped she wasn’t going to suggest they swim across.
“Look!” she hissed.
There were figures moving among the trees, beyond the water. Half-shrouded in mist, warriors gathered.
“Always aim for the throat.” A shadow-pelted tabby was lecturing the others. He grasped a wiry brown tom, hooking his claws into his ragged fur and hurling him to the ground. “See?”
The tom struggled helplessly as the tabby ran a claw along his throat. Blood rose in its trail.
Jayfeather felt Spottedleaf stiffen beside him. “Darkstripe,” she breathed.
The tabby turned and stared in their direction.
Jayfeather ducked, his heart pounding as Darkstripe blinked.
“It’s okay; he hasn’t seen us,” Spottedleaf whispered.
A low growl set Jayfeather’s pelt on end. Hawkfrost padded from the shadows, knocking Darkstripe away from his victim. “Concentrate on what you’re doing!” He grabbed the bleeding tom and shoved him back toward the line of watching cats.
The brown tom shook himself and lapped at his wound.
Hawkfrost snarled. “Worry about your pelt later!”
The tom stopped midlick and stared at Hawkfrost with rounded eyes.
“You wanted to learn some killing moves!” Hawkfrost hissed at him. “Stop acting like a frightened kit and listen.” He turned to a skinny white tom who was watching with half-closed eyes. “Come here, Snowtuft!”
Warily the white tom crept forward.
“Are you ready to learn?” Hawkfrost sneered.
Eyes glinting, Snowtuft nodded. “That’s why I’m here,” he spat.
“Good.” Hawkfrost lunged and grasped Snowtuft by the throat. Lifting him with powerful paws, he spun around to face the others. “Shredtail, come here!”
As Snowtuft’s paws churned helplessly in the air, a dark brown tabby crept forward.
“Slice his belly open,” Hawkfrost growled.
Shredtail’s eyes gleamed with blood-hunger.
Jayfeather’s breath quickened. Bile rose in his throat. “No!” he breathed. “The warrior code would never allow such vicious battle moves.”
Spottedleaf dug her claws into the earth. “These cats have always lived outside the code.” Her mew was thick with disgust. “They were rogues within their Clans. They are rogues now. That’s why they’re here. They never deserved to be called warriors.”
Foul breath stirred the fur on Jayfeather’s spine. “You’re wrong.”
The two cats spun around.
Tigerstar sat in the middle of the trail, staring at them, his eyes lazy with contempt. “There’s no code to say what can and can’t happen here.” His gaze flicked to Hawkfrost. “It’s your world that’s restricted by petty rules and expectations.”
Anger surged through Jayfeather. “A true warrior’s heart needs no rules! It can do no evil!” he blurted.
Amusement lit Tigerstar’s amber gaze. He turned to Spottedleaf. “Don’t you just love his innocence?”
Spottedleaf straightened. “It’s goodness, not innocence.”
“Do good cats creep around and spy on others?”
A low growl rumbled in her throat. “They do when there is no other way to find out what’s going on.”
Tigerstar’s eyes rounded. “You could have just come to me and asked whatever you wanted to know.”
“Very well.” Jayfeather sat up, forcing his trembling shoulders to relax. “Why are you training cats from the Clans?”
Tigerstar gazed around the forest. “I see no Clan cats here.”
Then he fixed Jayfeather with a look so cold, Jayfeather had to sink his claws into the ground to stop his legs from shaking. “The only Clan cats here are you two. And you’re trespassing.” His foul breath washed over Jayfeather’s muzzle as he leaned closer. “Which makes you the only cats here breaking rules.” He blinked. “Didn’t Brokenstar order you to leave?”
How does he know that?
“Why bother training these cats in killing blows?” Spotted leaf glared at Tigerstar.
The warrior flicked his tail. “Why not?”
“You’re already dead!”
Tigerstar shrugged. “That’s no reason to lose our fighting skills.”
Jayfeather let out a low hiss. “What do you need fighting skills for here?” he challenged.
“Once a warrior, always a warrior,” Tigerstar purred.
Spottedleaf took a step forward. “You gave up the honor of being a warrior in the heartbeat you decided to kill Bluestar!” she snapped. “You can’t steal warriors from the Clans and turn them against their own Clanmates!”
“Really?” Tigerstar lifted a paw and unsheathed his claws. “Says who?”
Jayfeather thrust his muzzle into Tigerstar’s face. “We do!”
Tigerstar batted him away.
Jayfeather huffed as he hit the floor, wincing at the pain burning his ear. He scrambled to his paws and faced Tigerstar again. There was no way Jayfeather was going to let this dead warrior think he was scared to fight him.
“Don’t bother,” growled the dark warrior. “It’s a fight you can’t win.” He turned away. “Now get out of here before I pass you over to my friends for practice.”
“Come on,” Spottedleaf whispered. “There’s nothing more we can do here.”
Jayfeather hurried after Spottedleaf, gagging as Snowtuft’s agonized yowl rang through the trees behind them.
CHAPTER 17
Lionblaze couldn’t sleep. Had Jayfeather discovered something at the Moonpool? Was he walking in another cat’s dreams right now? They had to find out who their enemies were before it was too late.
Lionblaze sat up and gazed past the bough that arched over his nest. The half-moon trembled through the rustling leaves, and Silverpelt glittered beyond. Bathed in crystal light, his Clanmates huddled in nests around him. Were any of them being trained by Tigerstar in their dreams?
Brackenfur? The golden warrior twitched his flank. No way. What weakness could Tigerstar exploit in him?
Squirrelflight? However much Lionblaze resented her for the lies she had told, for letting him, Brambleclaw, and every cat in every Clan believe that she was his mother, he couldn’t believe she would ever be persuaded to betray her Clanmates.
Dustpelt? The dusky tom often argued with Firestar, but Lionblaze suspected the two warriors relished their disagreements, sparking off each other and never holding grudges.
Whitewing? Never. Just…never.
His gaze rested on Thornclaw. Maybe. He had been good friends with Ashfur. Perhaps he should ask Jayfeather to visit Thornclaw’s dreams.
Leafpool? No cat from the Dark Forest would be mouse-brained enough to think she’d turn against her Clanmates.
What about Cinderheart?
The gray she-cat lifted her head. “Lionblaze?”
Lionblaze blinked. What was he thinking? How could he doubt his Clanmates? “I can’t sleep,” he whispered.
Cinderheart yawned. “Let’s go for a walk.” She hopped from her nest, landing delicately between the pools of bracken, and weaved her way into what was left of the clearing.
Lionblaze followed, glad of her company. If anyone could chase away his dark thoughts, it was Cinderheart.
Her gray pelt shone under the stars, her eyes almost black in the half-light. “Look out!” she hissed over her shoulder as Lionblaze’s tail brushed over Graystripe’s nose. “He might dream it’s a mouse and bite off the tip.”
Lionblaze stifled a snort of amusement. Graystripe probably could eat in his sleep.
“Come on.” Cinderheart bounded to the thorn barrier. Newly shored up with fresh branches, it shielded the opening to the hollow as well as ever. She squeezed through the gap and Lionblaze headed after her.
Outside, a cold breeze stirred the empty trees.
“Forest or shore?” Cinderheart offered.
“Forest.” Lionblaze didn’t feel like wandering along the exposed lakeside. The pathways of the forest were easier to move along unnoticed. And if they reached the ShadowClan border, he could check for Tigerheart’s scent. He padded along the gully, wading through dead leaves. Cinderheart scampered past, kicking them up so that they showered his pelt. She raced ahead before he could retaliate and waited, puffing, for him to catch up, her soft form silhouetted in the moonlight.
“Have you noticed that Ivypaw and Dovepaw are avoiding each other?”
Her question took him by surprise.
“No.”
“You should watch them,” Cinderheart suggested. “They hardly ever share a mouse anymore.”
“Littermates argue.” Lionblaze shrugged. He and Hollyleaf had always bickered, especially when she was at her bossiest. Grief pricked him and he pushed away the thought.
“Not Dovepaw and Ivypaw,” Cinderheart persisted. “They’ve always been so close.” Her blue eyes grew wistful. “But I guess I used to quarrel with Honeyfern and Molepaw when they were alive.”
Cinderheart looked so sad that Lionblaze wanted to remind her she still had kin in the Clan. “You haven’t fallen out with Poppyfrost in moons.”
“She’s too busy with Cherrykit and Molekit to argue.” Cinderheart brightened. “They’re a pawful, aren’t they?”
“Only when they’re awake,” Lionblaze purred. They hadn’t come out here to grieve for lost littermates. He wanted to forget his worries for a while. He padded up a slope and headed around a swath of brambles tumbling between the oaks.
Cinderheart padded at his side, her pelt occasionally brushing his as she squeezed past snagging branches. “But I do wish Ivypaw weren’t so competitive with Dovepaw.” She sighed.
“That’s natural with apprentices.”
“It’s only since Dovepaw was chosen to go on the quest,” Cinderheart commented. “I think that’s what started it.” She turned her gaze on Lionblaze. “Why did Firestar choose her? She’s only an apprentice. I heard some cats saying she had a dream from StarClan. Is that true?”
“That’s what she said,” Lionblaze answered evasively. “Whatever it was, we were lucky.”
“Perhaps she’s special, like Jayfeather,” Cinderheart pressed. “Should she be training as a medicine cat? Would Jayfeather take her on?”
Lionblaze shook his head. “Don’t even suggest it to her. She’d be horrified. She’s warrior to the bone.”
“It’s great that you have such confidence in her, and I wouldn’t want to undermine that, but…” Cinderheart cast him a sideways glance. “Maybe you could talk to her about being a bit more considerate of Ivypaw?”
“She seems to be making great progress,” Lionblaze pointed out. “Perhaps the competition is doing her good.”
Cinderheart flicked her tail irritably.
“Let’s race.” Lionblaze didn’t want the night spoiled by bickering over their apprentices. “It’ll warm us up.”
Cinderheart shrugged. “Okay.” Then, gasping, she stared into the branches overhead. “Oh, no!”
Alarmed, Lionblaze looked up.
“Ha, ha! Got you!” Cinderheart hared away into the trees.
“You sneak!” He pelted after her.
As he closed on her she darted through the hollow trunk of a tree. He veered to the side, overtaking her as she emerged with cobwebs trailing from her bushy tail.
Now Lionblaze was in front. He scrambled up an outcrop of rocks. Cinderheart leaped after him, and he felt her muzzle brushing his tail. As the stone scraped beneath his paws, he thought of Heathertail and the way they’d played in the cave.
He halted, panting at t
he top. “Wait!” he called as Cinderheart shot past him.
She skidded and turned to look challengingly at him. “Are you tired already?”
“No.”
“We could climb trees instead.” A mischievous sparkle glinted in her eye. “Oh, I forgot,” she added innocently. “You don’t like climbing trees.”
“Why climb when you can run?” Lionblaze jumped past her and charged through the trees. This wasn’t the cave and Cinderheart wasn’t Heathertail. This she-cat was ThunderClan from her nose to her tail-tip. There was nothing wrong with being with her. Feeling freer and happier than he had in moons, he swerved and headed for the lake.
I’m not skulking in the shadows like prey!
Cinderheart pounded after him as he pelted around a clump of ferns and skidded out from the trees. His paws slithered down the grassy slope. Cinderheart hurtled past him and bounded onto the shore, rattling pebbles under her feet.
She charged into the lake and stood waiting, belly-deep in the rippling waves. “I dare you to get your paws wet!”
“No way!” Lionblaze skidded to a halt at the water’s edge.
Cinderheart plunged her shoulders under and began to swim, gasping at the cold. Lionblaze had forgotten that Jayfeather had taught her to swim to strengthen her leg after her accident as an apprentice. “You look like a RiverClan cat!” he called from the shore. “Why don’t you catch me a fish while you’re in there?”
Cinderheart splashed out onto dry land and shook out her pelt. Lionblaze shied away as the water showered him.
“Don’t you call me RiverClan!” she huffed, eyes sparkling. “I’m ThunderClan through and through!”
“I’m glad you are.” Lionblaze pushed away all thoughts of Heathertail and admired his feisty denmate, her pelt spiked with water.
Cinderheart blinked. “Of course!” she declared. “It’s the best Clan to be in.”
Lionblaze glanced at his paws. He hadn’t quite meant it like that. Hot with embarrassment, he padded along the shore, not sure if he was glad that she had missed the clumsy compliment. She must think I’m a mouse-brain!
“Brrr!” Cinderheart caught up to him. She was shivering.
“Let’s get you back to camp before you catch a cold.” He steered her up the bank and into the trees, pressing close to share the heat of his pelt. She smelled sweet—mossy and damp, like a warm nest.