Struggling to hide his disappointment, Alderheart left the camp. He had always thought of Mistystar as the most reasonable of the Clan leaders, and for a heartbeat he had believed that he had reached her.

The wounds Darktail dealt her Clan have gone too deep. But what will happen to the Clans if the storm in StarClan’s prophecy is unleashed on us?

Shimmerpelt and Havenpelt escorted him, one on each side, until they reached the border stream and the place where he could leap across by the jutting rock.

His Clanmates and the WindClan cats were waiting for him. “Well?” Sparkpelt demanded. “What did Mistystar say?”

Alderheart angled his ears to where the two RiverClan warriors were still watching from the opposite bank. “Mind what you say,” he muttered. “We don’t want trouble now.” More loudly, he added, “She says we can go in peace.”

“I should think so,” Hootwhisker commented under his breath.

All six cats collected as much watermint as they could carry, making sure that they picked stems that were growing farthest from the stream.

“This might be the only chance we get,” Alderheart warned them. “Mistystar told me not to come back.”

When they had bundled up the herbs, they set off, back along the lakeshore; Alderheart was aware of Shimmerpelt and Havenpelt still guarding the stream until they were out of sight.

The WindClan patrol said their good-byes at the other side of the horseplace and headed up the moorland slope toward their camp. Alderheart and his Clanmates made their way back to the stone hollow. They padded mostly in silence, and Alderheart tried to feel optimistic.

I might have failed with Mistystar, but at least now we can treat the sickness.

But as soon as Alderheart pushed his way through the thorn tunnel into the camp, he spotted Jayfeather bounding toward him.

“Where have you been?” the blind cat demanded. “What took you so long? More cats have come down with the sickness—and the worst of them is Squirrelflight!”

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

“No, no, no! Let’s try that exercise again,” Sparkpelt meowed. “You should be rearing up on your hind legs, then a double slash with your forepaws. Keep your claws sheathed for now.”

That’s exactly what I am doing. Twigpaw suppressed a sigh. She had been doing battle training since dawn with Finpaw and Larksong, and she was bored. I learned all this in my first apprenticeship, she thought resentfully. I’ve known how to do it for moons! Why do I have to go through it all again?

“Twigpaw!” Sparkpelt’s annoyed voice dragged Twigpaw away from these dark thoughts. “When you’re quite ready . . .”

Trying to work up some enthusiasm for the basic exercise Larksong was teaching Finpaw, Twigpaw reared up on her hind legs and aimed two swift blows at the empty air.

“Hmm . . . not bad,” Sparkpelt grunted as Twigpaw landed on all four paws again.

Not bad? It was perfect!