The strange cats were fighting like warriors, only even more fiercely. As Mothwing watched, the calico landed a mighty blow on Duskfur’s neck, sending her to her knees. That’s a warrior’s blow. Were these cats really from the Dark Forest?
And if they were, where was StarClan?
If the other medicine cats were right all along, why isn’t StarClan protecting us?
A moan of pain made Mothwing refocus. Whether the dead walked the Clan territories or not, she was still a medicine cat, and she had to help her Clanmates. Minnowtail was lying near the warriors’ den, her face a mask of blood, and Mothwing made her way toward her, dodging battling cats.
“It’s all right,” she mewed soothingly, dropping her bundle of leaves next to Minnowtail. The warrior’s injuries didn’t look so bad, now that she was close to them. A long, shallow cut across her forehead was producing most of the blood.
“Mothwing,” Minnowtail whimpered. “I have to tell you the truth. I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Don’t worry,” Mothwing told her automatically. She cleaned Minnowtail’s face, relieved to see that the she-cat’s eyes were undamaged.
“You don’t understand!” Minnowtail yowled, pushing Mothwing’s paws away. “I trained in the Dark Forest. I gave away our battle secrets. They said they were training me to be a better warrior for my Clan.”
Mothwing stared at her, feeling cold.
“They said they’d kill me,” Minnowtail croaked. “But I would never have betrayed RiverClan.” Her amber eyes stared into Mothwing’s, pleading.
“Traitor!” The yowl was almost a roar, and Mothwing turned to see a gray Dark Forest cat swipe a heavy paw at Minnowtail. Instinctively, she crouched, shifting her body to protect the injured cat. Before the blow fell, Mallownose barreled at their attacker with a snarl, knocking him to the ground. Trying to shut out their struggle, Mothwing quickly staunched the flow of blood from Minnowtail’s wound and chewed up some marigold to stop the infection.
Her mind was spinning. The Dark Forest was here—dead cats who lived on after death. That meant StarClan must exist as well. But where were they? Didn’t they care? How had they let things get this far? Hot anger blossomed in her chest.
As she raised her head from Minnowtail’s wound, another familiar cat rushed through the tunnel.
Hawkfrost. Mothwing rose to her feet and stared at him, her mouth dry and her heart pounding.
It was undoubtedly her littermate. He looked as powerfully muscled as ever, but he was no longer the sleek young cat who had died all those seasons ago. His coat was dull and matted, the shape of his ribs clear beneath his fur. Blood ran from his cheek, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. And the other eye was lit with fury and hot hate, different from the cold ambition of the living Hawkfrost. He looked insane.
This new Hawkfrost stood in the clearing for a moment, his good eye darting from one tangle of battling cats to another. Then, in one swift move, he turned toward the nursery.
Duskfur and the elders, bleeding but still standing, snarled at him, bunching more closely together. Hawkfrost, hissing, swung one huge paw, his claws extended, and slashed Dapplenose across the throat.
Blood streamed down her chest and the old she-cat collapsed, her eyes already glazing with death. Pouncetail and Duskfur yowled in horror.
“Hawkfrost!” Mothwing screeched.
Her brother jerked back and stared at her, his blue eyes lingering on hers for a long heartbeat.
“Don’t,” she pleaded. “Please.”
Hawkfrost’s face was unreadable. Was the sweet, brave kit she remembered still in there somewhere? After a long moment, he turned away and took a step toward the nursery.
“No!” Mothwing yowled. She leaped over the still-moaning Minnowtail and started toward him.
Then she stopped in confusion. Cats had begun to stream through the rushes that fringed the RiverClan camp. Some of them were familiar but changed, stars shining in their fur.
Leopardstar, her face grim. Dawnflower, her gray tail bushed. Voletooth, Blackclaw, Heavystep, and others, cats who must be from before Mothwing’s time with the Clans.
At their advance, Hawkfrost fell back. Leopardstar, her ears pulled back in fury, prowled toward him, flanked on either side by starry-furred warriors.
Hawkfrost snarled, but then his nerve broke. He turned and fled, the other Dark Forest warriors following, rushing out of camp after him.
Mothwing felt as hollow as a dry husk. Did we win?
Her mind was spinning. She had always thought that the dead were gone forever. But today they had come back. Hawkfrost, the brother she had loved, had returned. But he had brought an army to fight the living, had tried to destroy the Clan he had once protected so fiercely.
All around her, her Clanmates were moving forward to greet their old friends in StarClan. Mistystar ran forward, purring despite her wounds, and pressed her muzzle to Leopardstar’s. Stonestream bowed his head to Heavystep, who had once been his mentor. Even Minnowtail struggled to her paws, the blood beginning to stream down her face again, and twined her tail with her mother Dawnflower’s. Everywhere Mothwing looked, the dead and the living greeted one another joyfully.
But around them, injured cats lay, some groaning, some quiet and still. Their blood soaked into the earth of the clearing. Dapplenose’s body lay across the nursery entrance, her empty blue eyes staring at nothing. Mothwing bent to pick up her bundle of herbs.
“Mothwing.”
Jerking up her head, she saw Mudfur standing before her. His fur, thick with stars, was a rich brown now instead of flecked with gray, his golden eyes warm. For a moment, affection surged through her, and she stepped forward to press her nose against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
“You’ve done very well,” Mudfur told her. “I’m proud of you.”
Mothwing pulled back, her anger returning as she saw again the dead and wounded on the ground. “Where were you? Where was StarClan?”
Mudfur cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?”
Gesturing with her tail at the injured cats, Mothwing said, “When the Dark Forest attacked us! Or earlier, when they were planning to invade! If StarClan exists, why didn’t you stop all this from happening?” She thought of Hawkfrost, wild-eyed and furious. It would have been better for him, too, never to have come back to RiverClan. “You told the medicine cats to keep the Clans apart, when what we needed was to band together!”
Mudfur bowed his head. “We cannot always see the future,” he told her. “And when we do, sometimes we can’t act. StarClan could help in this battle, but it was the living Clans that had to come together to defeat the Dark Forest. What happened today will determine the Clans’ future, their unity and harmony, for many moons.”
“Cats had to die for unity and harmony?” Mothwing bristled. “All I see is StarClan’s numbers growing.”
“No cat ever has to die for things to get better,” Mudfur replied sadly. “But sometimes it seems to be the only way for the Clans to truly see their path.”
With a growl of frustration, Mothwing turned her back on him. But she could still hear Mudfur’s voice.
“After all this time not being able to reach StarClan, you’ll turn away from us now?”
Mothwing whipped back around, her tail bushed in anger. “You know the worst thing for any medicine cat is to see so many of her Clanmates suffering. Why can’t StarClan settle the battles between Clans without all this bloodshed? It’s like everything I do is useless.”