It was pitch dark in the cave. Dustpelt began to feel as if the blackness was closing in on him. Where am I? He thought in panic. Where is the Moonstone?
Then – a glimmer of light, from up ahead. The tabby's footsteps quickened. He found himself running, bounding towards the fabled stone where leaders and medicine cats came to commune with StarClan.
And yet, I'm not either of those, Dustpelt thought.
Nearing the Moonstone, he slowed down, staring in awe. The great stone glittered with a thousand colours, moonlight flashing silver, gold, ruby, emerald, sapphire. Of their own accord, Dustpelt's paws slowly came to a halt. He gazed at the stone, its many colours reflected in his green eyes, filled with apprehension and wonder.
Slowly, the tom padded up to the Moonstone, wondering what he should do now. He didn't know what leaders and medicine cats did when they entered this cave, but somehow, he knew he was supposed to lie down beside the stone. After all, hadn't he heard that they were supposed to share dreams with StarClan? And to do that, surely he had to lie down and sleep.
Following his instincts, he lay down, tucking his paws under his chest, and touched the Moonstone with his nose. It was icy cold, sending a shock through his body, but he ignored the discomfort and closed his eyes.
Dustpelt had worried about being able to go to sleep, but once he closed his eyes, he drifted off.
A ginger tom sat staring into a small pool, ripples shimmering across its surface from a small, soothing waterfall. He watched a tiny image of Dustpelt standing outside Mothermouth flicker on the water's surface.
Firestar didn't even look up when a black-and-white cat padded up beside him. "Yes, Tallstar?"
The other tom sighed, looking down at the pool too. "What should we do, Firestar? The Clans are dead, except for your warrior and these few survivors."
"He's not my warrior anymore," Firestar muttered distractedly. "I'm a part of StarClan, now." His green eyes were sad. "How can we help them to survive?"
Another voice sounded from behind. Leopardstar, former leader of RiverClan. "There's only one thing for it. They'll have to leave the forest. But they will come back. I can feel it. They will return one day, and reclaim the territory that ahs belonged to the four Clans for generations."
Firestar nodded, brightening a little as he looked at the golden she-cat. "Yes. Even though I wish they could stay. But they need a leader."
A white tom with huge black paws prowled out from behind a StarClan bush and padded up to join the three leaders. "Dustpelt is already leader in all but name. We might as well just make it official." With a curl of the lip, Blackfoot added, "Even if he is a ThunderClan cat."
"This is StarClan, Blackfoot," Tallstar said sharply. "We are all one Clan, now."
The fire in Blackfoot's eyes turned to cold ice, but he meowed calmly, "So. Dustpelt will be leader, and they will leave the forest."
"We need to give them a prophecy," murmured Leopardstar, looking at the pool. "They have faith in us, and our prophecies." The water showed Dustpelt padding through the darkness of the tunnel that led to the Moonstone, now.
Firestar's emerald eyes were misty with thought. "They'll never recover on their own. They'll have to seek help from other cats."
Tallstar nodded. "Yes. We can include that in the prophecy." He looked around. "I'll begin."
The black-and-white cat dipped a paw in the water. "Blood runs red over the forest and the Clans…"
Leopardstar raised her head, eyes glinting. "The ragged ones left shall flee or die..."
"To the mountains, where the rushing water flows…" Blackfoot growled.
Firestar thought for a moment, then meowed, "To mingle blood and not to spill it."
The four cats stared at each other, wondering how to end the prophecy.
Unexpectedly, a soft voice from behind them meowed, "Till the dawn comes when they, with the rushing water, will purge the blood from their home."
Turning, Firestar dipped his head to the newcomer, a blue-grey she-cat with wisdom shining in her eyes like starlight. "Bluestar," he meowed respectfully.
The leader of ThunderClan before Firestar sat down, curling her tail around her paws. Her eyes gleamed as she looked at the four cats. "You all have done a good job with the prophecy and survivors. Now all that is left is Dustpelt."
"We have to tell him the prophecy and make him leader," meowed Tallstar.
"No," interrupted Firestar, his eyes thoughtful. "We should not make him leader, should not give him a leader's name. For then there would not be four Clans in the forest, but one, not counting StarClan. Nine lives, yes, but not really make him a leader."
The others looked at him silently, considering his words. Bluestar was the first to nod in agreement, then Tallstar, then Leopardstar, then Blackfoot.
"He comes," meowed Tallstar, looking at the pool again. Indeed, now Dustpelt was standing beside the Moonstone, gazing at it. "We cannot let him arrive at Fourtrees now. Scourge –" he spat the name with distaste, "- has tainted it. He shall have to come here."
Slowly, the silhouettes of the five cats faded away.
Dustpelt kept his eyes tightly shut. He wasn't sure what he would see if he opened them. Now what? the tom wondered.
"Dustpelt," meowed a familiar voice by his ear. Fernpaw! Dustpelt's eyes shot open. He whirled to face the former apprentice. "Oh, Fernpaw…"
She stood looking at him, her dappled grey fur tinted silver with moonlight. Behind her were a pool and a waterfall, splashing softly, the water deep black with stars reflected in it.
"Where…where are we?" the warrior meowed unsteadily. There was a sacred, ethereal aura around this place, and he could hardly keep from crouching in awe.
"A meeting place of StarClan," Fernpaw replied. "We could not meet at Fourtrees, for Scourge has made that place his home, and it is reflected in StarClan. The stink of rogues fills it."
She turned her head, looking at something behind her. Dustpelt saw a form begin to shimmer in the air and resolve into a ginger cat.
Firestar's emerald eyes shone like stars as he approached. This time, Dustpelt really did crouch in awe as his former leader approached. The ginger cat's fur seemed to flicker with colours, just like the Moonstone. "Welcome, Dustpelt," Firestar meowed.
Dipping her head to him, Fernpaw stepped aside to let him speak.
Dustpelt realised there were more cats behind the former leader, shadowy shapes which he could just make out. They stepped forward, too, seeming to glide, and the warrior saw that they were the other leaders who had been killed – Tallstar, Leopardstar, and Blackfoot, who would have been leader if were alive.
And, last of all, came Bluestar.
Dustpelt gaped at them. They seemed larger, stronger than in real life, in all their glory and fierceness. Their eyes were deep pools of wisdom, their fur glittering with moonlight and starlight. But Firestar caught his attention again. "Dustpelt!"
The warrior looked up, still crouching. "Firestar?"
Firestar gazed down at him, and Dustpelt saw in his eyes the old compassion and wisdom of the former young leader. "We have something important to tell you. A prophecy."
Dustpelt nodded, his green eyes fearful and anxious. A prophecy? It must be something bad.
The other tom seemed to read his thoughts. "It is your only hope of survival. Are you ready to hear it?'
The brown tabby nodded again, warily.
Firestar cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice seemed to fill Dustpelt's mind, reaching into the deepest corners of his soul.
"Blood runs red over the forest and the Clans."
"The ragged ones must flee or die,"
"To the mountains, where the rushing water flows,"
"To mingle blood and not to spill it."
"Till the dawn comes when they, with the rushing water, can purge the blood from their home.
Dustpelt stared up at him, confused. "Rushing water? Mingle blood?"
Firestar shook his head, half amused. "I cannot tell you what it means, but you must remember it. You are no medicine cat, but you can decipher it if you try hard. And there is one more thing to do."
"The cats need a leader. We have decided that you will be theirs, if you are willing."
Dustpelt hesitated, thinking. I'm already more than half their leader. But can I bear such responsibility? I don't think so…and how can I be leader of four Clans?
Once again, Firestar seemed to know his thoughts. "You will not be a real leader. You will receive nine lives, but not a leader name. We cannot merge four Clans into one. It would be wrong." He met Dustpelt's eyes, and the warrior could not help flinching away from the directness of his gaze. "Will you do it, Dustpelt?"
Dustpelt searched desperately for a reason. "I…I can't! I'm too young! Surely there are better cats?"
Firestar's whiskers twitched in amusement. "I was younger than you when I became leader," he pointed out.
Dustpelt sighed. He knew he had no choice, and indeed, he agreed that he was probably the best choice for leader. But he wasn't sure if he could be a good leader. "All right. I'll be their leader."
The ginger tom nodded approvingly. "Thank you, Dustpelt. You won't regret it." He raised his head, calling out clearly, "It is time for the ceremony."
At once, the stars in the sky seemed to swirl and shimmer. They spiralled gracefully down towards the ground, no longer stars but silvery leaping cat-forms, all the Clan-cats who had ever existed.
If it were possible for Dustpelt's jaw to hang open any wider, it would have done so.