CATS OUTSIDE CLANS

SOL—white-and-brown tabby long-haired tom with pale yellow eyes

SMOKY—muscular gray-and-white tom who lives in a barn at the horseplace

FLOSS—small gray-and-white she-cat who lives at the horseplace

PURDY—elderly, plump tabby loner with a gray muzzle

JINGO—dark brown tabby she-cat

HUSSAR—broad-shouldered gray tom

SPECKLE—flecked brown she-cat, nursing four kits

FRITZ—black-and-white tom with a torn ear

POD—scrawny brown tom with a gray muzzle

JET—long-haired black tom

MERRY—ginger-and-white she-cat

CHIRP—pale gray tabby tom

OTHER ANIMALS

MIDNIGHT—a star-gazing badger who lives by the sea

Map

PROLOGUE

Moonlight washed over the stone hollow, bright as day, but beneath the bushes and at the edges under the cliffs, dark shadows seemed to uncoil like claws. Leafpool crouched over Ashfur’s limp body. The pale light turned his gray fur to silver as she groomed it for his burial. Beside her, Jayfeather helped, smoothing Ashfur’s tail and fluffing it up as it dried.

Leafpool raised her head to gaze up at the icy glitter cast by her warrior ancestors. “May StarClan light your path, Ashfur.” She let her voice fall softly into the cold air as she repeated the words used by medicine cats for more seasons than any cat could count, whenever a Clanmate died. “May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”

The words that should have comforted her, promising a long and happy life for the fallen warrior, instead hurt her, sharper than thorns. Her mind filled with the moment she had discovered the neat teethmarks in Ashfur’s neck. Too small for a dog, too clean for a fox, too sharp for a badger. Only a cat could have left them. But which cat? Who hated Ashfur enough to kill him in cold blood, leaving no signs of a struggle? Had it been an honest clash over borders or stolen prey? Could it have been a WindClan cat, or a passing rogue? Please, StarClan, let it be that!

The thought that a ThunderClan cat might have murdered Ashfur made Leafpool cold to her bones. Ashfur had been outspoken and strong-willed, yes, but a loyal and respected warrior as well. Surely none of his Clanmates had any reason to want him dead?

Bending over his body again, Leafpool began to clean earth and grit out of the dead warrior’s pads. Something soft and light fluttered against her muzzle; she drew back to see a tuft of fur snagged in Ashfur’s claws.

No! This can’t be true! Leaning closer, Leafpool sniffed the fur. I know that scent!

Desperately she tried to convince herself that the clump of fur had come from one of the cats who had carried Ashfur back to the camp from where he had been found, floating in the stream on the WindClan border. But the smell of river water was too strong to have come from a cat with dry fur, and besides, Ashfur’s claws were soft and limp now. They would flex rather than pull out a tuft of hair if they brushed against another cat.