Darkest Night

MAPS

PROLOGUE

The dying sun bronzed the rock outcrop where a tom sat, his yellow fur aflame as shadows lengthened behind him. It had been a good day. He’d caught enough prey to fill his belly and chased butterflies beside a stream where the water was clear and tasted of the mountains. Below him, there was a cleft in the rocks; high enough to be safe from prying foxes, and facing away from the wind, it would make a good place to spend the night.

He sat down, relishing the cool breeze in his fur. Its chill, which announced the coming of leaf-fall, excited him. Prey would be fattening itself for the long, cold days ahead. He licked his lips, anticipating the richer flavors and softer flesh. He was no longer afraid of the coming cold. His hunting skills improved every season. Only a very cruel leaf-bare would leave him hungry now.

He glanced down, spotting movement in the shadows below. A silver pelt. Familiar? “Who’s there?” Green eyes glinted up at him, and he recognized them at once. “Needletail!” He purred as she climbed the rocks and stopped. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. How are you?”

The she-cat paced around him, her pelt twitching.

The tom could see from her distracted gaze that Needletail was upset. He stood and gazed at her warmly, hoping he could soothe her. “What’s wrong? Sit down and tell me about it.”

She paused and stared at him, sadness in her eyes.

The tom’s pelt prickled as he waited for her to speak.

“It’s too terrible,” she growled. The breeze ruffled her pelt.

The tom slid around her, smoothing her fur with his own. He felt her stiff posture soften. “Nothing can be that bad, surely?”

Needletail’s unease seemed to give way to tiredness, and she slumped into a crouch.

He hunkered down beside her and followed her gaze to the distant horizon. She felt bony beside him; she’d grown thin. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“I’ve been so dumb,” she mewed. “I trusted the wrong cat. Many suffered. I need to make it right.” She turned her gaze to meet the tom’s. “Will you help me?”

“I’ll help you any way I can.” He blinked at her eagerly, then paused. Suddenly, he could see through her glassy stare; shadows were buried in her eyes. Stiffening, he sat up and glanced along her silver pelt. A faint glow shone from within her. It was a glow he’d seen before, but not in Needletail. The fiery sunshine had disguised it, but now, as the shadows deepened into darkness, he could see the glow clearly. It lit her like swallowed moonlight. His heart ached with grief.

“Needletail,” he breathed. “How did you die?”

CHAPTER 1

“Hurry up, Twigpaw!” Ivypool’s mew rang though the trees.

Hush! Twigpaw flicked her tail irritably. A mouse was snuffling through the freshly fallen leaves of an oak. She could see it in the shadow of a root. It froze as Ivypool’s mew shattered the silence. Twigpaw didn’t move, relaxing only when the mouse once more began rummaging through the leaves.

She leaped and felt the soft flesh of the mouse beneath her claws as she slammed her paws down. After giving a quick killing bite, she lifted its limp body between her teeth and turned to join the others.

Ivypool was hauling a thrush—an earlier catch—from beneath a clump of ferns. Sparkpelt paced behind Fernsong, and Cherryfall lounged in a patch of late-afternoon sun. As Twigpaw reached them, she tossed the mouse onto the pile of prey they had collected.

Lionblaze sat stiffly, his gaze probing the forest as though searching for danger.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for.” Sparkpelt sniffed at him. “The rogues are gone and all the other Clan cats are in our camp.”

“Not all the Clan cats,” Ivypool pointed out.

“ShadowClan went home days ago,” Fernsong added.

“But we’ve still got half of RiverClan and a whole new Clan cluttering up our dens.” Sparkpelt fluffed out her fur. “I’m sick of sleeping under ferns so a RiverClan warrior can have my nest. In another moon, the ferns will have shriveled and I’ll be sleeping in the cold.”

“Reedwhisker needs your nest,” Fernsong reminded her. “He’s still recovering from being held captive by the rogues.”

“And he won’t be there much longer,” Ivypool meowed. “Mistystar says that RiverClan has nearly finished rebuilding their camp. They’ll be able to go home soon.”

“What about SkyClan?” Sparkpelt challenged.

Lionblaze answered without moving his gaze from the distant trees. “SkyClan will be gone soon too.”

“Where? They have nowhere to go.” Cherryfall got to her paws.

“The Clan leaders will decide at the next Gathering,” Lionblaze told her.

Sparkpelt’s fur prickled along her spine. “What are they going to do? Invent new territory for SkyClan to live on?”

“There’s not enough room around the lake for an extra Clan.” Cherryfall glanced at Twigpaw.