“That’s a load of mouse droppings!” Needletail meowed, her green eyes narrowing. “A strong leader could have held the Clan together, Darktail or no Darktail. We were only tempted by Darktail because of Rowanclaw’s weakness. And now that Darktail is dead, a strong leader would already be rebuilding the Clan. Rowanclaw accepted nine lives from StarClan, and now he’s all, ‘Thank you very much, I don’t want them anymore.’ What cat does that?”

Blackstar puffed out a sigh and shook his head. “No cat . . or at least, no cat should,” he admitted.

“And now the whole Clan is suffering,” Needletail hissed. “That mange-pelt—”

“Enough!” A new voice rang out.

They all turned to see a cat standing at the top of the slope, outlined against the sky. As they watched, she headed toward them, brushing her way through the grass with neat, purposeful paw steps. Stars streamed through her thick black fur like water.

“Who’s that?” Needletail muttered, glaring at the newcomer.

“No idea,” Blackstar replied, looking puzzled. “She’s no ShadowClan cat I’ve ever seen.”

The strange cat halted in front of the group of cats, seemingly undaunted by their bristling neck fur and twitching tail-tips.

“You may not have seen me,” she mewed calmly to Blackstar, “but I have seen you, many times. I am Shadowstar, the first leader of your Clan.”

Every cat instinctively took a step back. Dawnpelt let out a gasp, while murmurs of astonishment rose from the other cats. Yellowfang dipped her head respectfully, and even Needletail looked awed.

“You should not pass blame along so casually,” Shadowstar went on, fixing Needletail with a stern gaze. “The end of ShadowClan is about much more than Rowanclaw’s failure or the loss of your territory. Since the beginning, ShadowClan was destined to be one of the five Clans.”

The ShadowClan cats glanced uncertainly at one another.

“Why have you come to tell us this?” Yellowfang asked at last.

“The other first leaders and I led groups of cats, each group finding the place—moor, forest, river, or marsh—best suited to those cats’ characters and abilities. These groups, which would become the five Clans, then united in purpose for all our survival,” Shadowstar explained. “Only by working together, five separate but connected groups, like the petals of the blazing star, could we survive. Now you—not just ShadowClan, but the ancestors of all the Clans—must send a message to the living cats.” Her eyes glowed, the color of sunlight on fresh leaves, as she added, “There must be five Clans! ShadowClan must be saved!”

“But it’s too late,” Dawnpelt mewed wretchedly.

“We’ve already given the Clans a prophecy,” Blackstar pointed out. “But they’re ignoring it.”