Night Whispers

“Do you believe me now?”

Jayfeather jerked to a halt as Yellowfang blocked his path.

“All four Clans must stand alone,” she hissed. “The Dark Forest moves among them. You can’t trust anyone. Why do you think the ShadowClan cats stayed away from the Moonpool tonight? They have abandoned you already. And WindClan and RiverClan will abandon you now.”

“Not if I tell them what’s really going on.”

Yellowfang sprang at him, bowling him over. “No!” She pressed him hard to the ground. “Can’t you read the signs? Lionblaze beat the fox single-pawed!” she hissed. “If you don’t keep quiet, all four Clans will be lost to the darkness.”

Struggling, Jayfeather blinked open his eyes and found himself beside the Moonpool, his vision black once more. Fur brushed snow. Kestrelflight was heading away up the path. Willowshine was already at the top, walking quickly as if she didn’t want to speak to her companions. Was the bond between medicine cats so easily broken?

Jayfeather scrambled to his paws. He had to warn them. “The Dark Forest—”

Crackling silenced him. Ice splintered behind him, echoing around the walls of the hollow. Jayfeather turned, and his vision was flooded with starlight. The Moonpool was freezing over, ice spreading like fire through grass, reaching over the water until the whole pool was white.

Jayfeather stared around the hollow. Hope flared in his chest. Cats of StarClan lined the glittering walls. The ranks of star-pelted warriors sat silent and still. Jayfeather looked more closely. Was that Rock among them? Jayfeather recognized the ancient, hairless cat with a surge of joy. Had he come to help StarClan? Perhaps he’d changed their minds? Perhaps the cats of StarClan were going to face the Dark Forest together after all?

As he watched, pleading silently for some kind of sign, he saw the hollow start to whiten. One after another, the StarClan warriors turned to ice, their fur glistening, their whiskers stiffening, before shattering into cruel, prickling shards in the cold, dead moonlight.

Only Rock remained. He stared blankly at Jayfeather, his bulging blind eyes as frosted as the Moonpool.

Chapter 15

Ivypaw opened her eyes. Mouse dung! It was night, and she was still in the apprentices’ den. She wanted to be in the Dark Forest. She wanted to perfect the complicated move that Hawkfrost had shown her last night. She pricked her ears.

Silence. Dovepaw wasn’t in her nest.

Ivypaw sighed and rolled over. Did Dovepaw think no one was going to notice her disappearing night after night, returning just before the dawn patrol and pretending to wake in her nest as though she’d never been gone?

I know what you’re up to. Ivypaw tucked her nose under her tail. You’re sneaking off to practice by yourself in the woods. You’ve realized that I’m better than you, and you don’t like it.

It was Dovepaw’s turn to play catch-up, for a change.

Ivypaw closed her eyes and pictured Mapleshade’s move. If I put a hind paw there and a forepaw there… Her thoughts drifted into a dream.

“Get back, Thornclaw! You might get hurt.” She growled at her Clanmate and turned to face the ShadowClan patrol alone. With a single paw, she sent Oakfur flying over her shoulder, then lunged at Smokefoot, kicking out with her hind legs to scratch Crowfrost’s snapping muzzle.

Pain tore through her dream as two spiked paws gripped her shoulders. The ShadowClan warriors vanished from her thoughts. This enemy wasn’t imagined. The sting of claws in her flesh was real. Ivypaw swallowed a wail of pain as they hooked her pelt and flung her to the ground.

“That’ll teach you to pay attention!”

Thistleclaw’s rancid breath hit her nose. The Dark Forest swam into focus. With her muzzle pressed into the dank earth, she could just make out the shadowy trunks through the hanging mist.

“Get off me!” she screeched.

“I don’t know if begging works on the battlefield.” Thistleclaw dug his claws deeper into her neck.

Panicking, Ivypaw flapped her hind legs. Her paws hit something solid. It must be a root. She pushed against it, thrusting herself forward. Thistleclaw flinched, gasping. In a moment she was on her paws and rearing up at the tabby warrior, claws unsheathed, a snarl curling her lip.

“Very good.” Hawkfrost’s approving growl echoed nearby.

Ivypaw glanced sideways as he stalked from the trees. Suddenly she didn’t care about the stinging of her neck or the welling of blood on her fur. Hawkfrost had praised her.

Thistleclaw hissed at her, his back arched and his teeth bared. “You’ll be watching for me next time,” he snarled.