“Hi, Dovewing,” Hazeltail greeted her. “Is Ivypool okay?”

“She’s fine,” Dovewing replied.

She spotted Cinderheart heading her way, a worried expression on her face, and guessed that she wanted to ask about her former apprentice. But there was no time to talk; Cinderheart had to turn and plunge into the tunnel, and Dovewing followed her.

Firestar set a brisk pace through the forest. The moon cast shadows over their path, and frost glittered on every blade of grass and frond of bracken. Dovewing gasped when she broke out of the trees and stood at the top of the slope that led down to the lake. The moon traced a path of molten silver from one side to the other. Ripples washed softly against the pebbled shore.

Following her Clanmates, she raced along the water’s edge, splashing through the stream on the WindClan border and heading for the horseplace. She thought back to the shimmering covering of ice, broken by the jagged cracks that had swallowed Flametail. Before that, the lake had been a stretch of drying mud, dotted by dwindling pools where fish flapped and thirsty cats gathered for the last drops of water.

Nothing stays the same, Dovewing realized. Nothing except the prophecy, and that’s no clearer than it ever was.

“Hey, Dovewing!” Foxleap’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Race you to the tree-bridge!”

Thrusting aside her worries, Dovewing sprinted after him, catching up as they crossed the RiverClan scent markings. Panting, they drew to a halt at the end of the tree-bridge, ahead of all the rest of the Clan.

“You’re fast!” Foxleap panted admiringly.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Dovewing replied, giving him a flick on the shoulder with her tail.

The rest of the Clan reached them, and Firestar leaped onto the tree-bridge to lead the way over to the island. Sending out her senses, Dovewing realized that the three other Clans were already there. She picked up a strong feeling of uneasiness; her paws prickled with it as she padded along the fallen tree trunk and ran across the shore to push her way through the bushes that encircled the Great Oak.

In the clearing, the cats from the other Clans were milling around restlessly; Dovewing realized they were still in their Clan groups, rather than gossiping with other Clans as they usually did at Gatherings. When ThunderClan appeared, she felt a wave of hostility from the ShadowClan cats. One or two of them stretched out their necks to let out furious hisses, or pointedly turned their backs.

Dovewing couldn’t help looking for Tigerheart, and spotted him in the shade of a holly bush. His amber gaze met hers, and at once she looked away, heat washing through her pelt. She could never forgive the tabby tom for using her to get at Jayfeather’s supply of herbs. He turned me into a spy for ShadowClan!

But Dovewing couldn’t forget the time she and Tigerheart had spent together, playing in the old Twoleg nest at the edge of ShadowClan’s territory. Their moonlight meetings had been more important to her than anything else.