SHADOWCLAN
LEADER SHADOWSTAR—black, thick-furred she-cat with green eyes
DEPUTY SUN SHADOW—black tom with amber eyes
MEDICINE CAT PEBBLE HEART—gray tabby tom with white mark on his chest and amber eyes
HUNTERS JUNIPER BRANCH—long-furred tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes
RAVEN PELT—black tom with yellow eyes
MOUSE EARS—big tabby tom with unusually small ears
MUD PAWS—pale brown tom with four black paws
BUBBLING STREAM—white she-cat with yellow splotches
MAPS
CHAPTER ONE
Thunderstar watched approvingly as Snail Shell scrambled through the bracken at the edge of the forest, moving fast. Tensing his hind legs, the young dappled gray tom gave a flying leap and disappeared from sight. After a few heartbeats, he emerged from the undergrowth with his tail held high, a fat vole dangling from his mouth.
“Nicely done.” Thunderstar blinked approvingly at Owl Eyes beside him. “You’ve trained him well.”
Owl Eyes purred. “He was eager to learn.”
Snail Shell dropped the vole at Thunderstar’s feet. “Did you see how I pounced?” he asked excitedly. “When Owl Eyes started training me, I always landed a little short of the prey, but he told me to try to jump just in front of prey, and I’d get my paws right on it.”
His sister, Apple Blossom, flicked her tail dismissively. “Lightning Tail didn’t have to show me that,” she bragged. “My pounces were always good.”
Lightning Tail’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “But it took a while for you to learn to pick out the scent of your prey. Let’s show Thunderstar what you’ve learned.”
The orange-and-white she-cat scented the air. “I can smell . . . mice,” she mewed. “And there’s a rabbit! In the ferns by that oak tree.”
“Very good,” Thunderstar told her. “So which should you hunt?”
Apple Blossom gave a thoughtful flick of her tail. “The mice would be easier to catch,” she mewed slowly, “but a fat rabbit would feed more of the Clan. The rabbit?”
Thunderstar nodded. “Rabbits can be hard to catch,” he told her. “The cats in WindClan eat a lot of rabbit, and they hunt them in pairs to make it easier. Why don’t you and Snail Shell hunt this rabbit together?” Apple Blossom hesitated, and Thunderstar twitched his ears at her encouragingly. “You’re in charge.” If the young cats had trouble catching the rabbit, there would still be plenty of the day left to hunt easier prey.
“Okay.” Apple Blossom’s eyes lit with excitement, and she turned to her brother. “Snail Shell, go around on the far side of the ferns, and keep upwind. I’ll chase it out toward you.”
The young she-cat, her tail held low, slunk carefully toward the tall patch of ferns, each paw step silent.
Thunderstar nudged Lightning Tail. “Good stalking form,” he whispered, and the black tom nodded, his eyes fixed on his apprentice.
Leaves rustled as the rabbit hopped hesitantly out of the ferns, its ears twitching. It sniffed the air, its bright eyes darting alertly in every direction. Apple Blossom froze for a second and then charged.
With a flip of its white tail, the rabbit bolted away from her, straight through the ferns. Apple Blossom followed. There were the sounds of a struggle and the rabbit’s short shriek, then Snail Shell and Apple Blossom pushed their way back through the ferns, Apple Blossom proudly carrying the plump rabbit in her mouth.
“Very good,” Thunderstar praised them, impressed. “That will fill a lot of hungry bellies.”
The cats buried the rabbit and the vole to collect on their way back to camp, and Thunderstar led the hunting patrol toward the river that marked ThunderClan’s border with RiverClan.
As the patrol emerged from the treeline onto the riverbank, Thunderstar took a deep, happy breath, letting water-scented air bathe his tongue. Sunlight sparkled off the river, and Thunderstar could scent the rich smells of prey and new growing plants. It had been a mild leaf-bare and his Clan had managed to hunt enough that no cat went hungry. Now that they were well into new-leaf, there was plenty of fat prey running through the forest.
“There’s Moss Tail!” Apple Blossom exclaimed excitedly. “Moss Tail! Hello!”
On the other side of the river, the dark brown RiverClan tom flicked his tail in greeting and continued making his way through the reeds at the edge of RiverClan’s territory.
“Is it true that RiverClan cats swim?” Snail Shell asked curiously, and Owl Eyes purred in amusement.
“Watch and see,” he said. The brown tom waded into the river, looked carefully around, and dived. Snail Shell and Apple Blossom gasped as he disappeared beneath the water, then resurfaced, a silver fish in his mouth.
“I heard that they eat fish,” Apple Blossom said. “Weird.”
“Fish isn’t bad,” Lightning Tail told her. “Riverstar’s given me some before. Maybe sometime I’ll take you to RiverClan’s camp and you can taste it yourself.”
Apple Blossom’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “No, thanks,” she said. “I prefer squirrel.”
They watched Moss Tail pick his way back to the riverbank and, after nodding his head in farewell, carry the fish toward RiverClan’s camp.
As he watched the RiverClan tom, warm contentment spread through Thunderstar’s chest. Not long ago, any RiverClan cat would have challenged a ThunderClan cat so close to their border, and certainly Lightning Tail would never have suggested taking a younger cat to visit RiverClan’s camp. But the cats of the forest had been at peace for many moons now.
WindClan and SkyClan had briefly fought over their border last new-leaf, but that skirmish had ended quickly. Otherwise, all five Clans had been at peace since they had banded together to drive out the vicious rogue Slash. Cats had died in the forest then—including Gray Wing, Thunderstar’s kin, who had raised him like a son—but now, rogues knew to steer clear of their territories. Now young cats like Snail Shell and Apple Blossom could explore the forest without fear.
“So, what prey should we be looking for this close to the water?” Owl Eyes asked the younger cats, but Snail Shell interrupted.
“We’ve been hunting all morning,” he complained. “I’m tired. Can’t we stop and take a break? Just for a little while?” Thunderstar nodded and, with a dramatic huff of breath, Snail Shell sank down to the ground as if he were exhausted. Tucking her tail neatly around her paws, Apple Blossom sat down beside him.
Lightning Tail and Thunderstar exchanged a wry look.
“Tired,” Lightning Tail said dryly. “When Thunderstar and I were your age, we walked all the way to the Twolegplace to rescue Owl Eyes, Pebble Heart, and Sparrow Fur. We didn’t have time to sit around complaining about being tired from a little hunting.”
“Really?” Apple Blossom asked, her eyes wide. “You rescued them from Twolegs? Owl Eyes, is that true?”
“It certainly is.” The dark gray tom settled down on his haunches beside them. “It was scary. One of the Twolegs picked up Lightning Tail like it was going to take him away, but Thunderstar got it to drop him.”
“Before we even made it to the Twolegplace, I fell in the river,” Lightning Tail went on. “And that’s how we met Riverstar for the first time. If he hadn’t pulled me out, I wouldn’t be here now.”
Owl Eyes purred. “Tell them about the battle with One Eye. Sparrow Fur and I were old enough to fight in that one.”
Snail Shell leaned forward, his tail lashing, tiredness forgotten. “Is that when Skystar got kicked out of SkyClan by rogues?”
Thunderstar listened as Lightning Tail began the story. His friend was so good with the apprentices, patient with their training and always knowing just what to say to engage a young cat’s interest. Fascinated by his tales of the battle with One Eye, Apple Blossom and Snail Shell looked ready to jump up and begin practicing their fighting skills. There would be no more complaining about being tired today.
Thunderst
ar sighed in satisfaction. He was sure he had chosen the right deputy. If anything ever happened to Thunderstar, Lightning Tail would protect ThunderClan.
Thunderstar’s cheerful mood lasted until they headed back to the ThunderClan camp in the late afternoon, heavily laden with prey. The high-pitched yowls of squabbling cats rose out of the ravine as they approached it, and Thunderstar’s heart sank.
There was always some cat arguing. And they always wanted Thunderstar to settle their arguments for them. It was as if the peace between the Clans had freed the cats to concentrate on all their small disagreements with each other.
As the hunting party scrambled down the side of the sandy ravine toward their camp, the angry voices got clearer.
“You were the one who said these were right!” That was Clover.
“I only did what Cloud Spots wanted!” And that was her brother Thistle.
Followed by the rest of the hunting party, Thunderstar shouldered his way through the gorse tunnel into ThunderClan’s camp.
“These don’t look anything like dock leaves! I don’t understand how you two even made this mistake! I’m supposed to be practicing how to chew it up and put it on wounds. If some cat gets hurt and we don’t have any dock leaves, it’ll be your fault!” Shivering Rose, the black-and-white medicine cat apprentice, was hissing with rage, her fur puffed up along her back.
Thistle rolled his eyes. “No cat’s hurt. There’s no emergency. What, do you think there’s going to be some big fight? With who?”
“Foxes, maybe? Badgers?” Blue Whisker tossed in from where she was watching the argument with interest, her tail folded neatly around her. Thunderstar flicked his ears reprovingly as he passed her. Moth Flight, the WindClan medicine cat, had given each Clan one of her own kits to link the Clans together and guarantee peace between them. His foster daughter—Moth Flight’s smallest kit—had grown up to be a fine young ThunderClan warrior, but sometimes she made trouble for trouble’s sake.
“Yes! Foxes and badgers!” Shivering Rose agreed, her yowl getting shriller. “Rogues! Or a cat could step on a sharp rock, or be scratched by thorns. ThunderClan doesn’t have to be fighting another Clan for cats to get hurt!”
Hoping to avoid their argument, Thunderstar dropped the thrush he was carrying onto the prey pile and turned toward his den. Maybe his mate, Violet Dawn, would be there. His spirits lifted, as they always did, at the thought of the beautiful, loving she-cat. If only he could get to their den before—
“Thunderstar!” Clover yowled plaintively. “Tell them it wasn’t my fault!”
With a sigh, Thunderstar turned back toward the squabbling young cats and tried to look interested. “What’s the matter?” Lightning Tail brushed past him with a soft purr of amusement and leaped into the branches of a nearby ash tree. He wasn’t leader; he could ignore this kind of thing. For a moment, Thunderstar itched with jealousy.
“Cloud Spots sent them out to gather dock leaves so I could practice how to help my Clanmates who get hurt,” Shivering Rose told him. “Instead, they brought back beech leaves, so the whole day’s wasted.”
“They look almost the same,” Thistle said defensively, poking the broad, shiny leaves on the ground in front of him with one paw.
Shivering Rose gave a sharp yowl of disbelief, and Thunderstar settled down on his haunches and tried to listen patiently. But as Thistle and Clover each started to argue that their mistake had been the other’s fault, Thunderstar’s mind wandered.
He was glad to see peace between the five Clans at last. There were no more pitched battles in the forest, no more bristling and insults at the borders. No vicious rogues had bothered them for moons, and the Clans were respected by nearby loners. Prey was running well, and no fires, floods, or harsh storms had broken the forest’s peace for a long time.
It was everything Thunderstar had ever wanted for his Clan. They were safe; they were thriving.
And yet . . .
He could remember the thrill of crouching by Gray Wing’s side, making a battle plan. Of charging into a fight side by side with Lightning Tail. Of all the times when a hunt or a journey had desperately mattered, because it meant life or death.
He didn’t miss it, of course he didn’t, Thunderstar thought, ruffling his fur. It was just that, in his memory at least, there hadn’t been this constant low-key squabbling all the time. The things they had cared about then—scarce prey and battles and making a home for themselves—had been the big things. The important things.
“At least I’m faster than a tortoise!” Clover snarled indignantly at her brother, and Thunderstar guiltily snapped back to attention.
Thistle sniffed. “But your nose might as well be on your haunches for all the good it did while we were looking for Cloud Spots’s beech leaves.”
Shivering Rose draped her tail across her eyes, groaning dramatically. “Dock leaves! Cloud Spots told you to get dock leaves! You mouse-brain!”
Clover bristled, angrily digging her claws into the earth beneath her paws. “Don’t talk to my brother like that!”
Thunderstar stood up, and Shivering Rose bit back her reply and looked up at him expectantly.
“Stop, all of you,” he said. “Clover and Thistle, apologize to Cloud Spots and Shivering Rose for bringing back the wrong leaves.” He turned to the medicine cat apprentice. “Shivering Rose, go into the forest tomorrow with Clover and Thistle and teach them what dock leaves look like, and what they smell like, so next time they’ll get it right.”
All three cats opened their mouths to reply, but Thunderstar silenced them with a weary look. “And stop fighting. You’re Clanmates, not a litter of kits. Respect each other.” The young cats hesitated, then nodded, murmuring agreement.
Thunderstar headed for his den again, only to be brought up short by more angry yowls.
“Prey should go on the prey pile!” Pink Eyes was lashing his tail, glaring at Leaf. “You can’t just hunt for your mate, even if she has new kits! Part of being a Clan cat is taking care of every cat, not only your kin.”
“I wasn’t on a hunting patrol! I just knew Milkweed needed something extra to keep her strength up,” Leaf hissed back, his amber eyes angry.
“Milkweed and the new kits are all you think of these days. You have a responsibility to feed the whole Clan!” Pink Eyes spat.
“You’re one to talk about feeding the Clan,” Leaf mewed sarcastically. “Even if you could see the prey, you’d be out of breath in half a rabbit chase.”
Pink Eyes jerked back, looking hurt, and Thunderstar stepped between the two angry toms. “Leaf, that’s not fair. Pink Eyes might not be able to hunt anymore, but you know he’ll be looking after your kits as soon as they’re big enough to come out of the nursery. And Pink Eyes, leave Leaf alone. If he’s not hunting enough for the Clan, Lightning Tail and I will send him out on more patrols.” Both cats looked rebellious, and Thunderstar twitched his tail with irritation. “You’re both too old to squabble like this. No wonder the younger cats are acting the same way! Set a better example. If you keep fighting, I’ll ask Cloud Spots to have you both pick ticks off Gooseberry—she got some on her pelt when she went out to the moor.”
Leaf and Pink Eyes dipped their heads submissively as Thunderstar walked away. It had been a long day, and he just wanted to curl up around his mate. Did his Clanmates have to bother him with every little dispute? Thunderstar sighed and stretched. I guess that’s what being a leader means, he supposed.
Finally, he reached his den in the Highrock, pushing through the lichen that hung over the entrance. But the cave was dark and deserted, and Thunderstar felt a pang of disappointment. He came back to the entrance and looked around the clearing, searching for Violet Dawn.
Morning Fire and Hazel Burrow were play-fighting in the center of the clearing. Gooseberry and Yew Tail were sharing a vole near the warriors’ den, and Owl Eyes had joined Lightning Tail in the ash tree. Shivering Rose and Blue Whisker were sharing tongues, while Pink Eyes had settled down
to nap in the sunshine. Through the walls of the nursery thornbush, Thunderstar saw black-and-white fur: Leaf had gone to visit Milkweed and their new kits.
He finally glimpsed a familiar dark gray pelt in the fern tunnel that led to the recently built medicine cat’s den. Thunderstar twitched his ears thoughtfully. Why was Violet Dawn visiting Cloud Spots’s den? Is she sick? She seemed fine this morning.
He crossed the clearing again and ducked to fit himself through the tunnel of fragrant ferns. He found Violet Dawn and Cloud Spots in the den at the end of the tunnel, and both turned to look at him, startled.
“Hi,” Thunderstar said, suddenly feeling awkward. He shifted from one paw to another. “Everything okay?”
Cloud Spots glanced at Violet Dawn questioningly, and Thunderstar’s heart sped up. What did that look mean? Cloud Spots didn’t look upset, exactly . . . more like he knew something he didn’t want to say.
“I’ll leave you two alone for a moment,” the long-furred tom murmured. He slipped past Thunderstar, but Thunderstar didn’t watch him go. His attention was fixed on Violet Dawn.
“What is it?” Thunderstar asked, pressing himself against his mate’s side and inhaling her sweet scent. She was reassuringly sturdy against him, and she rubbed her cheek affectionately against his.
“It’s nothing bad,” she said softly, her amber eyes warm. “Quite the opposite, really.”
Thunderstar stared at her. Violet Dawn looked away shyly, but her tail stroked against his side. “Do you mean . . .”
Violet Dawn pressed closer to him. “I’m going to have kits.”
Thunderstar froze, his mind whirling. A warm glow sparked in his chest, spreading through his whole body.
He was going to be a father.
That night, Thunderstar couldn’t sleep.
Violet Dawn was curled against him, breathing slowly and steadily. Her tail twitched slightly as she dreamed. Thunderstar buried his nose in her fur and shut his eyes, then opened them again and flexed his claws irritably. Rolling onto his back, he stared at the rock ceiling above him. Finally, he got to his paws and padded out into the clearing. Maybe if he went for a walk, it would be easier to sleep when he returned.