Lost Stars

Maps

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Allegiances

Maps

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

About the Author

Books by Erin Hunter

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Copyright

About the Publisher

Prologue

From a vast indigo sky, a warrior of StarClan gazed down at the lake and the Clan territories clustered around it. A half-moon floated in the darkness, its light turning the surface of the water to silver and glittering on the snow-covered land. The branches of the trees dipped gently under their weight of snow.

The starry warrior spotted movement at the edge of the trees where forest gave way to the steep slopes of the moor. Two tiny figures toiled upward, their shapes dark against the icy brightness. In the lead was a brown tom with white splotches, while close behind him a smaller tom, a gray tabby with darker stripes, was struggling to make headway, his belly fur brushing the snow. They were both unaware of being observed.

“Puddleshine,” the StarClan warrior murmured, recognizing the ShadowClan medicine cat. “And there’s his apprentice, Shadowpaw. They must be on their way to the Moonpool for the half-moon meeting.”

The spirit cat focused an intense gaze on the tabby apprentice, nodding appreciatively at his determination to keep up with his mentor, and at how his eyes shone with anticipation at the coming meeting, when he would share dreams with StarClan.

“There is no cat like you in all the five Clans, Shadowpaw,” the warrior continued. “Now great events are coming, and the Clans will experience far-reaching changes. And you, young apprentice—you will have an important part to play.”

The StarClan spirit went on watching as the two medicine cats trudged on up the moorland slope, their figures slowly dwindling into the distance until they crossed the crest of the hill and vanished.

“Yes.” The word was breathed out on a sigh of satisfaction. “Shadowpaw, your name will be remembered for as long as the Clans survive.”

Chapter 1

Shadowpaw craned his neck over his back, straining to groom the hard-to-reach spot at the base of his tail. He had just managed to give his fur a few vigorous licks when he heard paw steps approaching. He looked up to see his father, Tigerstar, and his mother, Dovewing, their pelts brushing as they gazed down at him with pride and joy shining in their eyes.

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up and giving his pelt a shake.

“We just came to see you off,” Tigerstar responded, while Dovewing gave her son’s ears a quick, affectionate lick.

Shadowpaw’s fur prickled with embarrassment. Like I haven’t been to the Moonpool before, he thought. They’re still treating me as if I’m a kit in the nursery!

He was sure that his parents hadn’t made such a fuss when his littermates, Pouncestep and Lightleap, had been warrior apprentices. I guess it’s because I’m going to be a medicine cat. . . . Or maybe because of the seizures he’d had since he was a kit. He knew his parents still worried about him, even though it had been a while since his last upsetting vision. They’re probably hoping that with some training from the other medicine cats, I’ll learn to control my visions once and for all . . . and I can be normal.

Shadowpaw wanted that, too.

“The snow must be really deep up on the moors,” Dovewing mewed. “Make sure you watch where you’re putting your paws.”

Shadowpaw wriggled his shoulders, praying that none of his Clanmates were listening. “I will,” he promised, glancing toward the medicine cats’ den in the hope of seeing his mentor, Puddleshine, emerge. But there was no sign of him yet.

To his relief, Tigerstar gave Dovewing a nudge and they both moved off toward the Clan leader’s den. Shadowpaw rubbed one paw hastily across his face and bounded across the camp to see what was keeping Puddleshine.

Intent on finding his mentor, Shadowpaw barely noticed the patrol trekking toward the fresh-kill pile, prey dangling from their jaws. He skidded to a halt just in time to avoid colliding with Cloverfoot, the Clan deputy.

“Shadowpaw!” she exclaimed around the shrew she was carrying. “You nearly knocked me off my paws.”

“Sorry, Cloverfoot,” Shadowpaw meowed, dipping his head respectfully.

Cloverfoot let out a snort, half annoyed, half amused. “Apprentices!”