Bramblestar dived into the warriors’ den and emerged a moment later with Sparkpelt and Larksong. Ambermoon and Rosepetal appeared hard on their paws.

“We’ll come too,” Rosepetal announced.

Bramblestar took the lead as the cats left the camp and plunged into the forest, heading for the lake. The darkness under the trees was so thick that Twigpaw could hardly make out the tail of Ambermoon, who was just in front of her. The heavy rain had made the ground spongy; Twigpaw struggled to run, but her paws were clogged with mud. As she forced her aching legs to carry her, she pictured the terrible vision she had seen at the Moonpool, smoldering trees and undergrowth as fire roared through a camp, devouring everything in its path.

I thought I was seeing the ThunderClan camp at the Moonpool . . . but maybe I was wrong. Twigpaw’s relief that the destruction was happening to a different camp was mixed with guilt and anxiety for whichever Clan was facing the fire.

Is my vision really happening now? Will we be too late?

Once the patrol broke out of the trees to reach the lakeshore, the going became easier. The rain had lessened, too; now it was no more than a fine drizzle, with gaps in the clouds where fitful moonlight showed through. For a heartbeat Twigpaw felt relieved, then realized that the heavy rain might have helped to put the fire out. There was nothing to stop it now.

Clear of the trees, Twigpaw could see the orange glow of fire at the other side of the lake, not far from the water’s edge. It’s not WindClan—it’s RiverClan! And it looks like it’s in their camp!

Pelting along the lakeshore, Twigpaw spotted three WindClan cats sweeping down from the top of the moor. As they drew closer, she recognized Gorsetail and Nightcloud with her apprentice, Brindlepaw.

“You’re heading for the fire?” Gorsetail panted as the WindClan cats joined the ThunderClan patrol. “We’ll come with you. It looks bad!”

The combined patrols raced along the shore past the horseplace. As they reached the end of the tree-bridge they could hear noise ahead of them: the roaring of flames and terrified cats yowling for help or screeching in pain. Twigpaw’s belly tightened with compassion, and she tried to force her legs to run even faster.

At the border stream the cats came to a halt. Ahead of her Twigpaw could see a barrier of fire; a fallen tree was blazing, along with undergrowth and dried reeds that grew along the water’s edge. Beyond the barrier more flames leaped into the sky; the whole of the RiverClan camp was alight.