Night Whispers

Voices sounded below the crest of the slope, and Jayfeather quickly scooted behind a boulder. As the voices grew nearer, Jayfeather peered around the side. Kestrelflight was walking beside Barkface. The raddled old WindClan medicine cat hung his head and dragged his tail as though the sky weighed heavily on his back. Another WindClan cat walked beside them. Jayfeather squinted. He didn’t recognize the light brown she-cat with ginger patches and eyes bluer than the lake in greenleaf.

“Explain it to him, Daisytail,” Barkface meowed gruffly. “I knew he wouldn’t believe me alone.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Kestrelflight objected. “It’s just hard to take in.”

The she-cat spoke, her voice as spirited as the wind lifting Jayfeather’s pelt. “I stood up for my Clanmates once so that I could protect their future. I led the queens against a leader who believed kits should be trained before they were six moons.” Her eyes clouded, and Jayfeather felt pride and grief battling in her heart. “There comes a time when we must stand and fight.”

“But I’m a medicine cat,” Kestrelflight reminded her. “I follow a different code than a warrior.”

“Everything is changing,” Barkface growled. “WindClan’s greatest battle is coming. We cannot let the treachery of other Clans sap our strengths.”

“We must stand alone,” Daisytail insisted.

Why? Jayfeather frowned. Four patrols could not drive the fox from our territory. Today Lionblaze sent it fleeing for its life. Was Yellowfang’s prophecy true?

“You must trust in your ancestors, not in other Clans,” Barkface warned. “The past will be your strength, not the present.”

Kestrelflight looked ruffled. “But who will this battle be against? Why must we fight alone? Tallstar never saw any weakness in allying the Clan with others to make it stronger.”

Daisytail narrowed her eyes. “Tallstar was blinded by friendships,” she mewed pointedly. Jayfeather wondered if she was referring to the long friendship between Firestar and the WindClan leader.

Kestrelflight searched Barkface’s gaze. “Is that who we’ll be fighting? Another Clan?”

“You don’t know your enemy yet,” he rasped. “But you’ll know them when the time comes.”

Jayfeather felt the fur on his neck prickle. Why not tell him? Shouldn’t he know that his Clan was going to face an army of the most dark-hearted warriors ever to have walked forest, moor, or stream?

Daisytail padded into Kestrelflight’s path, blocking his way. “Don’t tell any of the other medicine cats about this,” she warned.

Kestrelflight blinked. “Won’t they already know?”

“Betrayal could come from anywhere,” Barkface growled. “You must stand alone, knowing your ancestors walk with you, and you alone.”

Daisytail jerked her head around and tasted the air. Jayfeather ducked back behind the rock. Had she smelled him? Taking no risks, he backed away down a short, steep slope, flinching as pebbles clattered down beside him. He slid into a narrow gully and followed it quickly away from the hilltop. The rocky channel wound down, cutting ever deeper into the hillside. Jayfeather quickened his step until the slopes of the gully began to smooth into grassy banks. Soon he was following a stony path that opened onto a pebbly shore beside a stream.

Willows drooped over its banks. Ferns clustered at the water’s edge. Instinctively, Jayfeather headed for cover. This was not his dream. Keeping to the ferns, he headed downstream until he caught sight of a rock. Wide and flat, it broke from the water and split the current around it. He recognized Willowshine’s gray tabby pelt silhouetted on the rock, and beside her, Mudfur, the ancient RiverClan medicine cat. Graypool sat with them, paws rooted to the stone even when water splashed and lapped at them.

“You must stand alone,” Mudfur ordered.

Jayfeather pricked his ears harder. The rushing of the stream drowned their words.

“…ancestors will walk with you…” Graypool was staring intently at Willowshine.

Willowshine bristled. “…cats have always helped each…”

Graypool shook her head. “…have changed. We must change too…”

“Can I tell Mothwing?”

Graypool flashed a glance at Mudfur. “She won’t believe you, but you can tell her.”

Mudfur dipped his head. “She’s a good medicine cat. She will protect her Clanmates through this terrible battle.”

“Please,” Willowshine begged. “What is this battle? Who will we be fighting?”

Jayfeather saw the older cats shake their heads. The stream washed around them.

“…more terrible than your worst nightmares…”

“…darker than you can dream of…”

“…a river of blood…”

Willowshine leaned away from them, her whiskers quivering with fear.

Angry now, Jayfeather slid through the ferns, away from the water’s edge. It seemed like every cat in StarClan was in a state of panic! Did they really think that dividing the Clans and crippling them with fear would help? He must share what he knew with the other medicine cats. They faced a real enemy.