Veil Of Shadows

He had been afraid that he would have to make the long trek to the Moonpool, but as soon as he visualized the waterfall cascading down the rocks and into the pool, he found himself standing at the top of the spiral path.

Good, he thought. It worked!

Shadowsight padded down the path and approached the water’s edge, leaning over to stare down into the pool. What was my dream trying to tell me? he asked himself.

Crouching down, he closed his eyes and pressed his nose to the icy surface of the water. At once he could hear the weak voice again. “Help! Help!”

Shadowsight opened his eyes and gasped at what he could see, deep, deep beneath the surface of the water: Bramblestar’s hazy amber eyes, staring at him with a look of desperation. “Help!” the voice came again.

“I must have bees in my brain to be doing this,” Shadowsight muttered to himself as he rose and stood poised at the very edge of a rock that overhung the pool. He wasn’t a RiverClan cat, and he knew he couldn’t swim.

But I’m between worlds. . . . Maybe my ghost can swim? Or maybe a ghost can’t drown?

Before his fear could overwhelm him completely, Shadowsight leaped into the waters of the Moonpool. He sank down, down, farther down, his ears filled with the sound of rushing water.

He couldn’t see Bramblestar’s eyes any longer, and darkness was growing all around him. Was it all a trick? Shadowsight wondered. What if I’m just dying?

Then, through the darkness, Shadowsight made out something below him: branches growing up from the bottom of the Moonpool, tangled with vines and bramble tendrils. Unable to stop himself, he plunged into the middle of them and felt the vines winding themselves around his legs and tail. When he fought to free himself, the bramble thorns tore at his fur.

Even though in his spirit form Shadowsight didn’t need to breathe, panic overtook him and he began to struggle. But his thrashing only weakened him, tangling him further in the thorns. He knew that he ought to go on fighting, but his whole body was crying out for rest. His strength ebbing, he closed his eyes. His body grew limp, and he did not move again.

As he came to himself, Shadowsight realized that he was no longer in the waters of the Moonpool. He was lying on something soft; the tangling vines and tearing brambles were gone. He opened his eyes and staggered to his paws.

All around Shadowsight stretched massive trees, as far as he could see. Grass covered the ground, with thickets of fern and bramble here and there; in the darkness they looked like huge, crouching animals waiting to pounce.

When Shadowsight raised his head, he could see nothing but blackness beyond the interlacing branches; there was not even a glimmer of light from the moon or stars.

And there never will be, Shadowsight thought, a deep shudder running through his body from ears to tail-tip, for he realized now where he was. This is the Dark Forest . . . the Place of No Stars.

Terror swelled inside him as he took in his surroundings. The only light came from thick fungus growing on the trunks of the trees, which let out a sickly, pale glow. The sweetish scent of rotting crow-food filled the air; Shadowsight swiped his tongue over his jaws in a vain attempt to get rid of the taste.

How do I get out of here? he thought. Then he braced himself. He knew that he had been led here for a purpose; all he had to do was discover what that purpose was.

He remembered what the false Bramblestar had said about connections between worlds . . . if a cat was clever enough to find them. Is this how the impostor got to the lake?

Shadowsight began to explore, taking a random path among the trees. Out of the corner of his eye he could glimpse dark flickers, but when he turned to confront the movement, there was nothing there. Distant echoes reached his ears, as if he could hear the voices of cats stranded here. But he couldn’t see them; they felt just out of reach.

Once, this place must have been full of cats, Shadowsight thought, remembering the stories the older warriors told of how the first Tigerstar had trained the Dark Forest cats for a battle against the living Clans. Many of those warriors had died in the battle, and now the forest was almost deserted.

But not quite. Shadowsight shivered. Are any of the survivors here now? Are they watching me? His pelt prickled with apprehension, but as he padded on, no cat appeared to challenge him. Gradually he grew calmer.