CHAPTER 34

"BlackClan! Weaselclaw and Scratchface both… Fallensnow is dead!"

"The kits. They've stolen the kits!"

"Greencough… spreading through camp…"

Yellowstar woke with a gasp, her heart thudding in her chest. It was still dark out. She hadn't been asleep more than a few hours. She peeked her head out of the leader's den: nobody stirred in the hollow. Beechwhisker snored loudly from the elder's den. Crickets sang from the shadows. Otherwise, all was silent.

Yellowstar padded out of her den, her pelt itching from the nightmares. There's no attack, she told herself, and no sickness, either. You're just worried.

Surely, after all this time, StarClan hadn't spoken to her? Surely they'd just been the mundane nightmares of a worried Clan leader?

She padded silently to the medicine cat and, to her surprise, found Cloudstep already awake and looking at her. She motioned wordlessly for him to follow.

Dapplecreek blinked at them in confusion when she and the medicine cat approached the thorn tunnel.

"Can't sleep," Yellowstar whispered. "All is well. Just going for a walk. We won't be far."

Cloudstep and Yellowstar clambered through the tunnel and perched on the rocky ledge above FireClan camp. Cloudstep's joints seemed to creak as he jumped onto a thick, gnarly tree root peeking out from the ground. His yellow eyes barely flashed in the darkness; they were tired and rheumy, with a bit of sleep junk collected in the corners.

"Have you ever thought of retiring, old friend?" Yellowstar mewed softly.

Cloudstep scoffed. "And leave us without a medicine cat?"

"Freezepaw will be ready before long."

"She is a precocious cat," Cloudstep mewed. "I wouldn't be surprised if StarClan announced she was another one of their reincarnation projects." Cloudstep rolled his eyes. "Really, I think she's just clever. Don't mind the prattlings of a grumpy old cat."

Yellowstar laid her tail over Cloudstep's shoulders. "I'm proud one of Fallensnow's kits has such a fine cat for a mentor," she purred.

"You know," said Cloudstep with a sideways grin, "the Clan gossips about you two at least as much as they do about Mapledawn… If not more."

"Did you know?" Yellowstar asked.

"About you and Fallensnow? Do I look blind?"

"I meant about Mapledawn," Yellowstar said, cuffing him lightly around the ear.

"Not completely," he mewed. "There were many, many signs. I knew she wasn't normal. Knew it from the moment Redpoppy kitted. I can tell when a queen is pregnant, and she wasn't, not until Mapledawn came." He shrugged. "But I didn't know what it meant. StarClan never spoke to me directly."

"That doesn't surprise me. StarClan seems…" She shook her head. "I don't know."

"What's really bothering you?" Cloudstep's yellow eyes bored into her. "You've known about Mapledawn for a while now."

"Cloudstep…" She could still smell her dream—the blood, the sickness, the tang of fear. "Have you read any omens? Any signs? Have you had any dreams?"

"You know I would have told you."

"I know you would have told me if you thought I needed to know."

Cloudstep sighed. "You really want to know what I have seen? Yesterday, the hunting patrol brought back three mice from the same nest. One was gray, one was black, and one was albino. No one noticed the strange coloring. They fed the Clan just the same." He lashed his tail. "Last time Freezepaw went herb gathering, she noticed a goldfinch nest with a blue jay amongst the goldfinch babies. They seemed to get along fine. The mother loved its unnatural kit as much as the others.

"Just tonight," he continued, voice rising, "I found a tuft of red fur I couldn't identify shining under a star that broke through the clouds. I found a stick that looked strange, but I couldn't say why. Days ago I saw a fleck of something gold sticking out from the dirt; then someone trod on it, and it disappeared." He looked at her, ears pushed back. "Would you like to hear more?"

"I understand, Cloudstep."

"No you don't, and neither do I. I can't tell you exactly what's coming, Yellowstar. I can't tell you if Wrencatcher will come home safe. I can't tell you if Mapledawn will return. And I can't tell you where Scratchface has gone." He looked away. "If you want the truth, I don't think StarClan sends the signs." His eyes flicked up. Silverpelt was shrouded by clouds and darkness. "I think they see the same signs we do, and try to interpret them, just like we do. And sometimes they get it wrong."

Yellowstar froze and flattened to the ground. "There's one thing I can tell you," she whispered. "We are no longer alone."

A cat thundered through the forest, crashing through bushes and cracking sticks. The smell of fear was so rank, Yellowstar couldn't even tell if it was male or female.

"Down the tunnel," Yellowstar hissed, "quick!" Cloudstep, tail brushed out to twice its size, hopped off the tree root and clambered down the Clan tunnel. Yellowstar, meanwhile, climbed up the nearest tree, hooking her claws into the bark and hauling herself up until she reached a thick branch overhanging the forest.

She watched, her yellow pelt hidden by shadow, for the intruder to appear. It sounded like six cats, but she smelled only one…

No… Two.

The cat was coming closer. Just a few tail lengths away now.

Yellowstar shook her head. It's only Wrencatcher. And the stink wasn't fear, it was badger dung. Thank StarClan he survived. Wrencatcher sped by without seeing her. He halted suddenly before the thorn barrier and veered back into the forest. Good, Yellowstar thought. Lead them away from camp.

A jet black cat burst from the darkness and streaked through the forest after Wrencatcher. Closer, Yellowstar thought. Closer… Now! Yellowstar leapt from the tree branch onto the cat's back. Mousedung, that hurt. She dug her claws into the cat's pelt.

"BlackClan," she hissed, judging by the acrid pine scent clinging to his fur. "Of course it is."

The black tom hissed and writhed underneath her. Yellowstar could feel her grip on him slipping. She'd landed in an awkward position—hopefully nothing was sprained. I'm getting too old to do this twice in one day. She didn't show it, though. As the tomcat strained and pulled underneath her, she stood up suddenly. The momentum sent him flying into the thorn barrier; he yowled as thorns tore chunks out of his deep black pelt—

"Deepshadow," she growled, "am I right?"

The tom, Deepshadow, hissed at her and said nothing. He pulled away from the thorns—leaving chunks of fur and a little blood behind—looked from her leader necklace, down to her claws, and pelted off toward the BlackClan border.

Yellowstar listened to him go. When his pawsteps faded, she started following Wrencatcher's scent trail. The poor tom left badger scent like a trail of blood through the forest. She found him crouching in the bushes halfway down the old trail to the lake.

"Yellowstar?" he mewed. Dawn was creeping over the horizon.

"Come out. The BlackClan cat left." Wrencatcher's eyes were wide. Smears of dirt and dung coated his pelt. Yellowstar tried not to wince. "I assume this means you were seen?"

"Sorry," he murmured. "But I got a good look at the camp."

"I thought I told you not to—"

"I didn't," he insisted. "It was weird… I found their camp, but it was deserted. I may have smelled TallClan there, but it was really stale. So I went deeper into the forest. And I found them. Weaselclaw, at least. Fatberry, I think… Lynxpelt. Flitbird. I don't know the rest. But the Clan did look smaller."

"Scratchface?"

"I didn't see or smell him, Yellowstar."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Did Weaselclaw seem to be leader?"

Wrencatcher looked away and tilted his head. "She did look like it," he said. "She was still nursing, but she had her own nest. Well, her and Sunsplash." He paused. "Her den was the nicest. They were all asleep until Deepshadow smelled me." He looked down at his paws. "I guess he was standing guard outside. He was too dark to see. And I couldn't smell anything over, well, me."

"Okay, Wrencatcher. Thank you. You did really well." She flicked her eyes to the lightening sky. "Wash the grime from your pelt. Then we will wake he Clan."

She yowled the Clan together soon after. "Cats of FireClan," she meowed, "let us hear what Wrencatcher found."

Not a few cats glared at Wrencatcher when he padded up to the base of the Highstone. His parents, Birchnose and Rabbitleap, looked away when he opened his mouth. Only Acorntail looked pleased to see him in such a place of honor. In fact, he looked relieved. His apprentice, Skypaw sat at his paws like a kit.

"Well," Wrencatcher said hesitantly. "Scratchface is gone, or… Or I didn't see him… And it looked like Weaselclaw took back her place as leader."

"Are you sure?" Jaggedclaw mewed, his blue eyes narrowed at Wrencatcher. "Doesn't make much sense to me."

"Wrencatcher," Dapplecreek said more softly, "could you be mistaken? Weaselclaw practically begged us for help. Scratchface was planning to attack TallClan, if he didn't already."

"Right," murmured Downtail.

"I—" Wrencatcher steadied his shaking voice. "I'm sure," he said finally, with a trace of his old confidence. "Their old camp was deserted. They had a new one deep into the forest. It looked hastily made." He fixed his gaze evenly with Jaggedclaw. "I'm only telling you what I saw."

"A BlackClan cat chased him through the forest," Yellowstar said, before Jaggedclaw could spit the retort she could see on his lips. "I chased him off, but I'm ramping up patrols on the BlackClan border. One this morning to scent every whisker-length of our territory with them, another in the afternoon, and one this evening. CrookedClan and TallClan can wait until tomorrow." She nodded to Paletuft. "Cloudstep and Freezepaw, how are we on herbs?"

"Low," grumped Cloudstep. "I will gather today."

"Skypaw, Stormypaw—and Freezepaw, too. If you can spare her," Yellowstar added to Cloudstep. "Meet me in the training hollow before the afternoon patrol."

Freezepaw looked dubious, but she dipped her head. "May the Ageless Ones bless you!" Yellowstar yowled.

"May StarClan guide you," the Clan returned.