Lionblaze’s mind whirled. He had beaten Tigerstar! Maybe I do have power after all…but how can I, if I’m not one of the Three?

He paused, scarcely seeing the tangling undergrowth and the trees of the dark forest all around him. Do I want to know who my parents really are? he wondered. Does it even matter? Maybe it was best to let his Clanmates accept him for who they thought he was, so he could go on striving to improve his fighting skills.

I’m already the best fighter in ThunderClan. I know I can be a great warrior.

“Ashfur is dead,” he meowed out loud. “And Squirrelflight won’t reveal her secret to any other cats. It would hurt her Clanmates far too much if they knew she’d been lying to them for so long. Why not let everything stay the same?”

Lionblaze woke to the sun on his face. Most of the cats had already left the den; Lionblaze spotted only the gray-and-white pelt of Mousewhisker, who had kept guard over the camp the night before.

Lionblaze’s jaws stretched in a yawn. “Thank StarClan I wasn’t on the dawn patrol,” he muttered.

When he tried to get up, every muscle in his body shrieked a protest; he felt as if his body was one huge ache, from his head to his paws. Down one side, his golden tabby fur was matted with blood.

I hope no cat has noticed that! he thought as he bent his head and began cleaning up his pelt with swift, rhythmic licks.

The fight with Tigerstar had been a dream, hadn’t it? Lionblaze didn’t understand why he should feel just as much pain and exhaustion as if it had really happened. And he had been cut, as if a living warrior had raked his claws across Lionblaze’s flank…. He tried not to think about it. It doesn’t matter, because I’ll never go back to that place, he told himself. It’s over.

He felt better after his grooming, with his fur fluffed up to hide the gash in his side. When he finished, he could hear the voices of several cats just outside the den, though not close enough for him to make out what they were saying. Curious, he rose to his paws, arched his back in a delicious stretch, and pushed his way through the branches into the clearing.

Thornclaw was standing a couple of fox-lengths away; Spiderleg sat close by, while Cloudtail paced up and down in front of them, the tip of his white tail twitching. Cloudtail’s mate, Brightheart, watched him anxiously from where she sat with Ferncloud, Brackenfur, and Sorreltail. Honeyfern and Berrynose were crouched nearby, their eyes fixed on Thornclaw.

“Ashfur was killed by a WindClan cat!” the golden brown tom was declaring. “It’s the only possible answer.”

A few of his listeners nodded in agreement, though Lionblaze saw others exchanging doubtful glances.

“Firestar said he thought that one of us did it,” Honeyfern mewed, sounding nervous to be contradicting a senior warrior.