The thought that a ThunderClan cat might have murdered Ashfur made Leafpool cold to her bones. Ashfur had been outspoken and strong-willed, yes, but a loyal and respected warrior as well. Surely none of his Clanmates had any reason to want him dead?
Bending over his body again, Leafpool began to clean earth and grit out of the dead warrior’s pads. Something soft and light fluttered against her muzzle; she drew back to see a tuft of fur snagged in Ashfur’s claws.
No! This can’t be true! Leaning closer, Leafpool sniffed the fur. I know that scent!
Desperately she tried to convince herself that the clump of fur had come from one of the cats who had carried Ashfur back to the camp from where he had been found, floating in the stream on the WindClan border. But the smell of river water was too strong to have come from a cat with dry fur, and besides, Ashfur’s claws were soft and limp now. They would flex rather than pull out a tuft of hair if they brushed against another cat.
The only cat this tuft of fur could have come from was Ashfur’s killer.
Breathless and shaking, Leafpool gently teased out the fur and carried it into her den. She forced her trembling paws to place the tuft on a leaf, which she folded into a tight wrap. Then she pushed it right to the back of her store, deep into the cleft in the rock, behind the last bundle of herbs. The truth about Ashfur’s death must never come out.
In more pain than she had ever imagined she could feel without dying, she asked herself: Was all this my fault?
With a snarl, Yellowfang leaped on Bluestar, bowling her over and pinning her down in the lush grass of the forest where StarClan walked. “This is all your fault!” she spat. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t left that wretched secret to fester in ThunderClan.”
Bluestar battered at Yellowfang’s belly with her hind paws, but couldn’t dislodge the former medicine cat’s grip. “What’s wrong with you?” she hissed. “Don’t forget that I was your Clan leader.”
All the respect that Yellowfang had once felt for the former ThunderClan leader had vanished. Their shared history crumbled to dust in the face of the terrible future she foresaw for the Clan she had made her own.
“Your secret has been like a maggot eating away inside an apple,” Yellowfang growled, her bared fangs close to Bluestar’s ear. “ThunderClan is rotten to the core—and more blood will be shed before the truth comes out.”
“You can’t know that,” Bluestar protested, straining to throw off her opponent.
“A blind rabbit could see it! The truth will come out. Midnight told Sol everything. And we both know that Sol will return to ThunderClan.”
Summoning her trained warrior reflexes, Bluestar butted her head into Yellowfang’s chest and managed to slip to one side. Suddenly giving up, Yellowfang sprang away. She stood shaking her ruffled gray pelt.
Bluestar scrambled to her paws and stood, panting. “What’s the point of fighting?” she rasped when she had caught her breath. “The damage has been done—and whatever you say, this is not my fault.”
Yellowfang grunted.
“I still can’t believe Midnight betrayed us,” Bluestar went on. “I trusted her to watch over the Clans.”
“It’s not Midnight who was the traitor,” Yellowfang pointed out, her pelt bristling. “The betrayal began with the first lies, with the secret that you have kept for all these moons. ThunderClan has been living a lie! If these three cats are as powerful as the prophecy says they are, they would have been able to cope with the truth. Unless you think we’ve been wrong about them all along.”
“Never!” Bluestar retorted. “Who else could the Three be? I didn’t want to lie!” she added, her voice rising to a wail. “But when could I have told them? They have been happy. Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw are good parents. What good would it have done to tell them what really happened?”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Yellowfang growled. “Old secrets can’t stay buried forever.” She lashed her tail and began to stalk away; then she paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “And if these three cats are not strong enough to deal with the truth,” she added, “then you, Bluestar, will have destroyed the Clan you love so much….”
CHAPTER 1
Dead bracken rustled beneath Lionblaze’s paws as he stalked through the forest. Above the leafless trees, the sky was dark and empty. Terror raised the hairs on the young warrior’s neck, and he shivered from ears to tail-tip.
This is a place that has never known the light of StarClan.
He padded on, skirting clumps of fern and nosing under bushes, but he found no sight or scent of other cats. I’ve had enough of this, he thought, tugging his tail free from a trailing bramble. Panic sparked in his mind as he stared at the darkness that stretched away between the trees. What if I never find my way out of here?
“Looking for me?”
Lionblaze jumped and spun around. “Tigerstar!”
The massive warrior had appeared around the edge of a bramble thicket. His tabby pelt shone with a strange light that reminded Lionblaze of the sickly glow of fungus on dead trees.
“You’ve missed a lot of training,” Tigerstar meowed, padding forward until he stood a tail-length from the ThunderClan warrior. “You should have come back sooner.”
“No, I shouldn’t!” Lionblaze blurted out. “I shouldn’t have come here at all, and you never should have trained me. Brambleclaw isn’t my father! You’re not my kin!”
Tigerstar blinked once, but he showed no surprise, not even a flick of his ears. His amber eyes narrowed to slits, and he seemed to be waiting for Lionblaze to say more.
“You…you knew!” Lionblaze whispered. The trees seemed to spin around him. Squirrelflight isn’t the only cat who kept secrets!
“Of course I knew.” Tigerstar shrugged. “It’s not important. You were willing enough to learn from me, weren’t you?”
“But—”
“Blood isn’t everything,” Tigerstar snarled. His lip curled, showing the glint of sharp fangs. “Just ask Firestar.”
Lionblaze felt his neck fur begin to bristle as fury coursed through him. “Firestar’s a finer warrior than you ever were.”
“Don’t forget that he’s not your kin, either,” Tigerstar hissed softly. “There’s no point defending him now.”
Lionblaze stared at the dusk-lit warrior. Does he know who my real father is? “You knew all along that I wasn’t Firestar’s kin,” he growled. “You let me believe a lie!”
Tigerstar twitched one ear. “So?”
Rage and frustration overwhelmed Lionblaze. Leaping into the air, he threw himself at Tigerstar and tried to push him over. He battered at the tabby warrior’s head and shoulders, his claws unsheathed, tearing out huge clumps of fur. But the red haze of fury that filled his head made him clumsy, unfocused. His blows landed at random, barely scratching Tigerstar’s skin.
The huge tabby tom went limp, letting himself drop to one side and hooking one paw around Lionblaze’s leg to unbalance him. Lionblaze landed among the bracken with a jolt that drove the breath from his body. A heartbeat later he felt a huge paw clamp down on his shoulders, pinning him to the ground.
“I’ve taught you better than that, little warrior,” Tigerstar taunted him. “You’re out of practice.”
Taking a deep breath, Lionblaze heaved himself upward. Tigerstar leaped back and crouched a fox-length away, his amber eyes burning.
“I’ll show you who’s out of practice,” Lionblaze panted.