Rainstorm pushed his way through the thorn tunnel, dreading what he would find. Shadestar might very well sit in wait, a smug Thistletooth at his side, to rid the clan of its traitorous warrior. He was expecting that scene more than any other and was surprised when what greeted him was a falsely peaceful camp.
Flamepelt and Leopardtail shared a rabbit by the nettle patch while Smalltail emerged from the warriors' den. As he passed the Highrock, he could hear the faint voices inside, yet could not tell what they were saying. He could only tell there were three cats: Shadestar, Thistletooth, and another he soon recognized as Tawneystripe. He felt a bit reassured at this, for he knew she was the only cat in ThunderClan who could speak openly to Shadestar without getting reprimanded or cuffed around the ears.
A moment later, the three cats came out into the clearing, Tawneystripe at Shadestar's shoulder and an irritated Thistletooth behind. When Shadestar spotted Rainstorm, he gave a disdainful sniff and narrowed his eyes. Rainstorm tried not to shrink under his cold scrutiny.
"Go to your den. Rest," he said. "You must be tired after today."
Rainstorm was shocked into speechlessness, unsure of how to react. Thistletooth opened his mouth to protest but Shadestar silenced him with a flick of his tail before standing and heading back to his den. Thistletooth shot Rainstorm a murderous look. So it was finally obvious. Shadestar, the cat who had killed ruthlessly and fought unjust battles had just let his enemy, Rainstorm, go. He was truly insane.
Doing as he was told and also wanting the peace and quiet that came with sleep, Rainstorm padded into the warriors' den. He was met by Snowpelt and Raggedfur; Snowpelt looked worried and then relieved to see his brother had not been severely punished.
He found Bluefeather curled up in her nest, sound asleep. Rainstorm flopped down, drawing his tail in close, and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him away.
It seemed like only a heartbeat had passed before he woke again, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He leaped to his feet when he took in his surroundings. No longer was he in the warriors' den, surrounded by his friends, but now he stood in a clearing. Fourtrees, he realized. The great oaks towered over him and the stars shone brighter than he had ever seen them.
A gray cat came into view at the edge of the hollow, stars entangled in his fur and alight in his eyes.
"Who are you?" Rainstorm asked warily.
"My name is Stormheart," he said.
"You're a StarClan cat," Rainstorm stated. "What are you doing here?"
"Come with me," Stormheart said and started off through the trees. Rainstorm followed, his curiosity lending strength to his weary paws. Before long, he realized they were heading toward the ShadowClan border. Yet Stormheart didn't slow until they reached a break in the trees where lay the dangerous Snakerocks.
"What're we doing here?"
But Stormheart did not answer, gazing at a spot amongst the rocks that only he could see.
Then the scene changed before Rainstorm's eyes, the grass swaying as the snow melted, the clouds swimming overhead as it became day. Then it darkened again.
A cat lay at the base of the rocks, tiredly licking at a small, newborn kit. It squeaked and nudged her belly, kneading it with tiny paws. Two other cats were hidden in the darkness and a third emerged, recognizable as Russetclaw, medicine cat of ShadowClan.
"Listen, Shadestar is coming," Russetclaw whispered. "We need to hide your kit. For protection."
"Where's Stormheart?" the queen asked, her tone sounding weary. But when all Russetclaw did was gaze at her in silence, she tilted her head back and let out a mournful wail. The sound tore at Rainstorm's heart.
"You can mourn later, but right now we must save your kit," Russetclaw insisted.
"Night," the queen addressed one of the two cats nearly invisible in the darkness. "Please. Protect her." But Night looked at her in horror and did nothing, murmuring something Rainstorm could not hear. "Please," the queen repeated. "This kit must live. Take her far from here so she will be safe."
"Hurry. He's coming." Russetclaw's voice sounded urgent.
As Night approached, the queen looked away. "Her name is Mistykit. Please take good care of her."
Beside Rainstorm, Stormheart looked on mournfully as the loner scooped up the crying kit and carried her away into the night.
Then the scene vanished and once again, the two warriors were alone.
"I don't understand," Rainstorm said. "What's this all about?"
"Your meeting with that loner was no mere coincidence," Stormheart replied, turning to face him. "She is my daughter. And I know that she wants you to teach her warriors skills. I have lead her to you and she needs your help."
"But why?" Rainstorm protested. "Haven't I enough to worry about already?"
"There is a prophecy about her," Stormheart meowed. "Only the mist that bonds clan and clan can turn darkness to light."
"But she's a loner!"
"With the heart of a warrior," Stormheart said. "And she has clan blood. You must train her in the ways of a warrior. She is your only hope."
Rainstorm blinked – and he was once again in the warriors' den, the light turned gray with the coming dawn.
He left the camp without eating, not wanting to be caught by Thistletooth who would have happily ripped his fur off for a couple of mouse tails.
He crept as silent as he could up the ravine and into the forest, listening for the sounds of prey. He finally spotted a vole that had emerged from its burrow. Stopping, he crouched, then leaped to dispatch his prey with a single bite to the neck. He allowed himself time to enjoy his meal, finishing it in a couple quick bites before setting off again.
He wasn't even at all sure where he would find her, but he recalled seeing a barn once on the edge of WindClan territory when he had made his journey to Highstones. He would start there.
The trees were less dense at the edge of the territory, the moor beyond cold and windblown. He pricked his ears as he approached, this time searching out the distinct sounds of a WindClan border patrol. With all the trouble in his own clan, a hostile confrontation with WindClan was the last thing he needed.
As he moved on, wary of being on WindClan land, he was glad to have already caught prey. It made it easier for him to avoid following the fresh scent of rabbit carried to him on the breeze.
Much to his advantage, he didn't meet any other cats. Already the sun was rising high and he wondered what the ThunderClan cats would think of him, sneaking off as he had. He promised himself that he would do some hunting on the way back to camp.
There were more trees ahead and a thicket of brambles jutting form the snow. A cat's scent reached him on the air and he crouched low, for amoment convinced it was a WindClan patrol. But he relaxed a moment later when he recognized the scent as Misty's.
The she-cat was coming from the direction of the barn, snuffling among the roots of a tree. Then she flicked her ears in irritation as if she had lost a good piece of prey.
Taking a deep breath, still unsure is he was doing the right thing, Rainstorm approached her.
She saw him and shrank back, but did not back away. Only after a moment did she seem to recognize him and let her fur lie flat.
"Rainstorm?" she asked cautiously. "What are you doing here?"
"I've been thinking about what you said yesterday," Rainstorm began. "And I've decided to help. I'll train you to be like a real warrior."