The cats injured in the battle for Highcliffs recover, but Midgestar does not. She has not left her den in a quarter moon. Rindlebramble told Sharpthunder, in confidence, that the she-cat has lost at least three more lives, that Rindlebramble knows of, but she suspects she truly has lost more.

"You've been so brave," Ravenbloom murmured to Sharpthunder between licks around his ears. She was curled around him in his nest, the warriors' den empty besides the two of them. "I'm so proud of you."

Sharpthunder grunted, his chin resting on his pale gray paws.

"I mean it," the she-cat said, stopping her rhythmic grooming of him. "Midgestar will have you to thank when the Clan is still there when she recovers."

If she recovers, Sharpthunder thought miserably. It's more likely I will become leader soon than she recovers. StarClan, help us!

No other cats had fallen ill. The sickness had cleared out of the camp except for the leader. Sharpthunder had not had another visit from Flailpaw, though he prayed for one every night as he curled up beside the warm body of his mate. He needed guidance! What was he supposed to do? His Clan leader was confined to her den and every time he sees her, she's lost another life! Another three and she's gone to StarClan! And three is a generous estimate, he noted.

"I think she is depressed about Silverhare," Ravenbloom continued, her grooming of him resuming. She moved to lick his neck fur and he let out a purr without meaning to. "There was something between them, when she was deputy, you know?"

Sharpthunder grunted again. Ravenbloom fell silent and Sharpthunder fell asleep to the calming rasp of her tongue on his neck.

When he opened his eyes, he was standing atop Highcliffs, under a starless sky. Hope soared in his chest when he recognized where he was. Finally! He could speak to Flailpaw!

"Thank StarClan," he meowed, trotting up to the small tom sitting just a few strides away from him. "I've been wanting to talk to you. Midgestar has lost six lives and is still ill. You must help me! She has barely been leader for any time at all."

Flailpaw chuckled. His ice blue eyes seemed to pierce right through Sharpthunder.

"You must know by now that I cannot help you." Flailpaw's voice was deeper than Sharpthunder remembered.

"Why? Is StarClan powerless against this sickness too?" Sharpthunder wailed, stepping even closer. "Please. I'll beg you. I'll do anything! I cannot lead the Clan, not yet!"

"Oh, Sharpthunder," Flailpaw chided. "Have you not yet realized that this place we walk… is not StarClan?"

Sharpthunder paused. He blinked. He stepped back once, twice, from Flailpaw.

A devilish grin spread over Flailpaw's face. His sharp white teeth glinted in the moonlight. Suddenly, having no stars in the sky made sense to Sharpthunder.

"What are you talking about?" he mewed, unable to keep the tremor of fear out of his voice.

"It is time everything was revealed," Flailpaw said, curling his tail around his paws. He flicked an ear casually, as if this was all no more than a regular occurrence for him. "This is not StarClan, fool. I walk in the Place of No Stars."

"The Dark Forest?" Sharpthunder hissed, his hackles raised. He had only heard about this place in stories, and half-believed it to be a story to scare kits!

"Not all cats are deserving of StarClan," Flailpaw said, a hint of boastfulness in his tone. He raised his paw and flicked a tuft of grass off of a sharp claw. "Not all cats want to go to StarClan."

Sharpthunder took another step back. He snarled. "Get away from me. I don't want to talk to you ever again."

Flailpaw wheezed out a sound that was more whistle than laugh. His eyes sparkled as if he was enjoying this. "You have no choice. You and I… we made a deal."

A chill ran down Sharpthunder's spine. His paws felt rooted to the ground. If he could run, where would he go, anyways? Flailpaw is holding him prisoner in his own dreamland.

"You swore to protect Midgestar with your life," Flailpaw recited in a mocking tone. "That means, if you fail, she dies. Or if you die, she dies, too. She is on her last life. Then where would poor WillowClan be? Without a leader or deputy? It would simply collapse. The other Clans surely wouldn't take advantage of that…

"You do as I say. Or your whole Clan perishes."

Sharpthunder's breath came in heaving gasps. Her last life? I thought she had three more! His paws and tail tip tingled. He felt like he was going to pass out- maybe then he would wake up!

"There's no point," Sharpthunder gritted out. "What are you going to do if I refuse, kill me? Midgestar is going to die anyways. I am not going to let you have the satis-."

"Ah!" Flailpaw tsk-ed. "Don't be so quick to assume. I have been kind to you! And I will continue to be. Do as I say, and I will restore one of Midgestar's lives."

"You can do that?" Sharpthunder asked, his voice laden with suspicion. His yellow eyes glared at Flailpaw, narrowed to slits.

"Of course I can," Flailpaw purred. "I took all of them in the first place, didn't I? So now, help me, and your Clan has a chance. Don't, and you die, and your Clan withers away."

The choice was clear to Sharpthunder.

"Not much of a choice," he snapped, echoing his thoughts. "What do you want?"

"I want you to convince all four Clans to resume the Trials."