Whitestorm twitched his ear where it was being tickled by a blade of grass. “No cat is born so wise that it can’t learn from its elders. We must guide them where we can.”

“Easier said than done,” Yellowfang muttered.

A butterfly flitted overhead, making jerky progress against the breeze. Spottedleaf’s eyes flashed, and she suddenly reared up, clapping her paws together above her head. The butterfly surged upward and out of reach.

“Mouse dung!” Spottedleaf dropped back onto four paws. She noticed Bluestar padding away. “Are you leaving already?”

Bluestar glanced back at Yellowfang. “If I stay, we will argue.”

Yellowfang flicked the tip of her tail. “So you still think we should keep the secret from them?”

“I understand your fears, Yellowfang,” Bluestar murmured. “But for now this secret is safest kept with us.”

Yellowfang looked away. “Nothing but stubbornness,” she growled under her breath.

“Bluestar believes she’s doing the right thing,” Whitestorm told her. “You trusted her before, remember?” He nodded to Yellowfang and Spottedleaf, then followed Bluestar out of the glade.

“And what about you?” Yellowfang’s pale stare rested on Spottedleaf. “Do you agree with all this secrecy?”

“Truth is a powerful weapon,” Spottedleaf replied. “We must be careful how we use it.”

“That’s no answer!” Yellowfang snapped.

Spottedleaf searched Yellowfang’s anxious gaze. “Why are you so worried?”

The fur along Yellowfang’s spine rippled. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just have a feeling.” Her gaze drifted toward the trees, searching the forest. “Something’s wrong. There is a darkness coming that not even StarClan can prevent. And when it comes, we will be helpless to protect the Clans. Helpless even to protect ourselves.”

CHAPTER 1

Hollypaw crouched low, pressing her belly against the boulder. It was still warm from the sun, which was dipping behind the distant hills. A cold wind rolling from the mountains ruffled her fur. From here she could see green fields unfolding toward a swath of forest; somewhere beyond those trees lay the lake, and home.

Though the trees were still in full leaf, they were a shabby green, and the air had a new, musty taste that hadn’t been there on the journey to the mountains. Leaf-fall is coming, she thought.

She couldn’t wait to be home. It felt as though they had been with the Tribe for moons. At least they were safely out of the mountains. The ground would be softer underpaw from here on, the hunting easier, and the territory steadily more familiar than rock and water and stunted trees.

She glanced over her shoulder. Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight were talking in low voices with Stormfur and Brook. Tawnypelt and Crowfeather leaned in beside them. Were they saying good-bye?