Hollypaw kicked suddenly at the shingle. “I don’t care what Sol says.” Her mew was shrill. “They can’t stop believing in StarClan. That’s what Clans do! The warrior code brought us here; it gives us food and shelter.” Her fear had turned to rage. “It keeps us safe!”

“But Sol predicted the vanishing sun,” Lionpaw reminded her. “StarClan didn’t.”

“Does that mean you’re going to give up StarClan too?” Fury flashed from Hollypaw so fiercely that Jaypaw wondered for an instant if she were going to lunge at Lionpaw. But she only stalked ahead, her breath rasping with emotion.

Lionpaw hurried after her. “That’s not what I meant.”

Jaypaw let them go. The shingle was soft here, dimpling around his paws. The lake whispered on the shore. A cool breeze blew off the water, and Jaypaw turned his head, feeling it ruffle his whiskers.

Broken moonlight shimmered on the surface of the lake.

He could see it.

I must be dreaming.

The shingle shifted beside him. A cat was walking with him.

Yellowfang.

Her breath fouled the air, but Jaypaw was pleased she had come. “Did you see what happened?” he mewed.

“Of course.”

Jaypaw’s heart quickened. “What are you going to do?”

Yellowfang’s paws scrunched on the shingle. She sighed, and when she spoke again, she sounded old and tired. “We must choose our battles carefully.”

Was StarClan admitting defeat without even trying to fight for ShadowClan? Jaypaw turned to her, panic coming in waves. But Yellowfang had faded from his sight. Everything had clouded over, and soon the world was black once more. He could hear the voices of his Clanmates ahead, and pushed on after them.

His thoughts whirled and collided like leaves caught in a storm. At last Yellowfang had told him what he needed to know.

StarClan has surrendered. Their end is drawing near.

Jaypaw, Lionpaw, and Hollypaw would fulfill their destiny at last.

CHAPTER 24

Lionpaw was dreaming.

Blood flooded over him, around him, washing through his fur, thick and warm, filling his nostrils, tumbling him onward until he was buffeted against rough stone walls.

Help!

He fought the crimson tide, churning his paws, his muscles screaming as he struggled against the weight of the flood. His lungs were bursting, and the iron tang of blood filled his mouth.

The wave dragged him across jagged rocks, then swept on without him, leaving him soaked and gasping for breath. He blinked open his eyes and saw a stone roof arching high above him. Silvery light filtered through a crack, dimly lighting the stone walls of the cave. Lionpaw struggled to his paws, his sodden pelt heavy. He stared at the blood pooled in the cracks and crevices of the wide stone floor and glimpsed a shape—a body—lying awkwardly on the stone floor, paws twisted, tail limp, head thrown back, blood dripping from its whiskers.

Heatherpaw!