Mistystar's Omen

by Erin Hunter

  Jayfeather had figured out who their father was. “It’s Crowfeather.”

  Hollyleaf stared at him in disbelief. “But . . . Crowfeather’s from WindClan! I’m a ThunderClan cat!”

  “Yellowfang came to me in a dream,” Jayfeather insisted. “She told me it was time we knew the truth.”

  For Hollyleaf, there was nothing left. Half-Clan? She stood in the mouth of the tunnel and felt the scent of stone smooth her ruffled fur. She could disappear down here and emerge somewhere far from the Clans. She could begin a new life, away from all these lies and broken promises.

  Hollyleaf turned and ran into the tunnel. She heard Jayfeather calling to her—and then the thunder came, and the sky fell in, and she was swallowed up by the dizzying black.

  Hollyleaf kept going. Breathe, scrape, haul. Over and over. She longed to stop, to sleep, to wait for a StarClan warrior to come for her. But did StarClan even know she was here? Her birth had broken the warrior code. She had killed another cat. And she had given up her place in ThunderClan. No ancestors would be watching over her. Had they been watching when Hollyleaf spilled all her Clan’s secrets at the Gathering?

  “Wait!” Hollyleaf leaped to her paws. “There’s something that I have to say that all the Clans should hear.” There had been too many lies, too much damage done to the warrior code, for her to keep quiet any longer.

  The clearing was so quiet that Hollyleaf could hear a mouse scuttering among the dead leaves under the Great Oak. “You think you know me,” she began. “And my brothers, Lionblaze and Jayfeather of ThunderClan. You think you know us, but everything you have been told about us is a lie! We are not the kits of Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight.”

  “What?” Brambleclaw shot to his paws from where he sat with the other deputies among the roots of the Great Oak. “Squirrelflight, why is she talking such nonsense?”

  “I’m sorry, Brambleclaw, but it’s true. I’m not their mother, and you are not their father.”

  The Clan deputy stared at her. “Then who is?”

  Squirrelflight turned her sad green gaze on the cat she had always claimed as her daughter. “Tell them, Hollyleaf. I kept the secret for seasons; I’m not going to reveal it now.”

  “Coward!” Hollyleaf flashed at her. Her gaze swept around the clearing, seeing the eyes of every single cat trained on her. “I’m not afraid of the truth! Leafpool is our mother, and Crowfeather—yes, Crowfeather of WindClan—is our father.”

  Yowls of shock greeted her words, but Hollyleaf shouted over them. “These cats were so ashamed of us that they gave us away and lied to every single one of you to hide the fact that they had broken the warrior code. It’s all her fault.” She whipped her tail around to point at Leafpool. “How can the Clans survive when there are cowards and liars at the very heart of them?”

  Her words seemed to echo from the walls of the tunnel. Hollyleaf wished she could go back to the start of the Gathering, take back the terrible truth she had spilled, spare her Clanmates the pain and shock she had seen in their faces. What have I done?

  The constant dark was making her eyes ache. She had been searching for a chink of light for so long that she imagined one had appeared up ahead. The faintest line of something paler than black, like the first hint of milky dawn above the trees. Hollyleaf blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her vision. But the gray stripe was still there. Maybe it was light? She limped faster, ignoring the burn in her hind leg. The light grew stronger. It was seeping from a gap in the wall: another, smaller tunnel leading off. Hollyleaf dragged herself around the corner. Was it her imagination, or could she see the walls of a cave opening out ahead? In her excitement, she tried to stand up. Her hind leg buckled beneath her and stars exploded in her head. The last thing she saw was the stone floor rushing up to meet her.

  Chapter 2

  Leafpool! Leafpool, I’m thirsty! Hollyleaf was burning up. Her throat felt parched and her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She must be in the medicine den with a fever. Where was the soaked moss that Leafpool always left close to her patients? She twisted her head, and her muzzle bumped into something soft and wet and green-smelling. Hollyleaf sucked at the tendrils of moss, trying not to wince as she swallowed the precious water. Nothing had ever tasted better.

  Suddenly she realized she wasn’t alone. There was a cat bending over her, pushing something beneath her injured leg. Hollyleaf hissed in pain, and the cat apologized softly. “It’s just some feathers, to make you more comfortable. Lie still now.”

  Hollyleaf stiffened. She didn’t recognize this cat’s voice or scent. “Who are you? Where am I?” She started to flail her front paws. “Let me go!”

  A small, cool foot was placed on her shoulder, gently pushing her back down. Strong-smelling leaves were moved close to her muzzle. “Hush, it’s all right. You’re safe. Eat these, then go back to sleep.”

  Hollyleaf allowed herself to be nudged back onto the floor. She swallowed the herbs—comfrey, from the scent of it—and two tiny poppy seeds. The feathers felt soft and warm against her wounded leg. With a small sigh, Hollyleaf closed her eyes and sleep dragged her away once more.

  When she woke next, her head felt clearer and the pain in her leg had dulled to a nagging ache. Hollyleaf lay still for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the near-darkness. This definitely wasn’t the ThunderClan medicine den. She was lying on a thin bed of feathers over cold stone. I’m still in the tunnels! Hollyleaf felt a jolt of relief, then alarm. Who was down here with her? Hollyleaf tried to recall the scent of the cat who had told her to go back to sleep, but her belly rumbled and suddenly all she could think about was how hungry she was. When had she last eaten? She tried to stand up but her hind leg crumpled and she flopped onto her side, frustrated.

  “You’re awake!” A face loomed from the shadows. “How is your leg?”

  Hollyleaf opened her eyes wide until she could make out ginger-and-white patches on the cat’s pelt. He smelled of stone and water and moss. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

  The cat ignored her. Instead, he pushed something toward her with one paw. “You must be starving. Here, eat.”

  Fresh-kill! Hollyleaf bent her head, ready to dive in, then pulled back. A small, slimy minnow lay in front of her. “I don’t like fish,” she mewed.

  The cat twitched his ears. “Down here, you don’t always have a choice.” His tone was mild, but Hollyleaf felt embarrassed. Her belly let out a loud growl as if it would be happy with anything, even crow-food. Holding her breath, Hollyleaf bit into the fish. Plump, tasty mouse, she told herself. Pine-scented squirrel. The first pigeon of newleaf.

  She swallowed the last mouthful and drank from the moss beside her. The ginger-and-white cat watched her expectantly. “Thank you,” Hollyleaf meowed. “I . . . I guess it didn’t taste too bad.”

  The tom was still studying her. “You’re Hollypaw, aren’t you?”

  She blinked. “Hollyleaf, actually. How did you know? I’ve never seen you before, have I?”

  The cat shook his head and his eyes clouded. “No, you’ve never seen me. But I saw you with your littermates when you came to rescue those kits, just before the river flooded.”

  Hollyleaf stared at him. She would never forget the desperate search for the lost WindClan kits with Jayfeather and Lionblaze. They had been washed out of the tunnels and into the lake when the underground river overflowed. It had been a lucky escape for all of them. Now this cat was telling her that he had been here! “Who are you?” she mewed.

  The ginger-and-white tom busied himself with the feathers underneath her injured leg, rearranging them so that they were spread evenly. “My name is Fallen Leaves,” he meowed quietly.

  “You’re not from the Clans, are you?” Hollyleaf pressed. “Where do you live?”

  Fallen Leaves padded over to a small bundle of herbs and started dividing them up. “Once I lived in the hills above the lake, but this is my home now.” He turned, pushing some herbs
toward Hollyleaf. “Eat this comfrey; it’ll help your leg. I won’t give you any more poppy seeds unless you have trouble sleeping.”

  Hollyleaf obediently chewed the fragrant leaves. “Were you a medicine cat?” she asked.

  Fallen Leaves tipped his head to one side. “I don’t know what that is. We all learned about herbs and injuries so we could help one another. Is that what you mean?”

  “Kind of.” Hollyleaf propped herself up on her front legs, feeling her heart beat faster. “Who were the other cats? Were you part of a Clan?” Was there another group of cats living near here, one that the Clans didn’t know about?

  “No more questions,” Fallen Leaves ordered. “You need to rest. You haven’t broken your leg, just wrenched it. You’ll mend soon enough, and then I suppose you’ll want to go back to your friends.”

  “No!” Hollyleaf yelped. “I can’t go back! Not ever!”

  Fallen Leaves just shrugged. “That’s up to you. Lie down and stop wriggling. I’ll bring you something to eat later.” He picked up the scraps of fish bones and walked away.

  Hollyleaf stared after him until the shadows swallowed him up. The walls of the tunnel seemed paler, as if more light was filtering in. When she’d been speaking, she’d heard her voice echoing from far away, which suggested that her first impression had been right and she was lying at the entrance to a cave. She couldn’t hear any water, so it wasn’t the cave with the river. Hollyleaf rested her chin on her paws and closed her eyes. She was lost and injured, but somehow a cat had found her and kept her alive with food and water, and herbs for her leg. Had he been sent by StarClan? Or was she just very, very lucky? Either way, she figured that she was safe, at least for now.

  She woke from a doze to find another little fish beside her, as well as freshly soaked moss and some more comfrey. It was harder to see the walls of the cave, which meant it must have gotten darker outside. Was it night? Hollyleaf wondered how many days she had been down here. It had been a full moon when she . . . left. Perhaps Fallen Leaves could tell her what the moon was now. After eating her fish and masking the taste with the comfrey, Hollyleaf tried to stay awake, hoping that Fallen Leaves would come back. The cave grew darker until she couldn’t see a thing. Hollyleaf gave up waiting for her strange companion. He would come again in the morning, she was sure.

  This time she was awake and half-sitting up to wash her chest when Fallen Leaves arrived. He was carrying something bulkier and fluffier-looking than a fish. Hollyleaf paused between licks. “Hey! You caught a mouse!”

  Fallen Leaves deposited the fresh-kill at her paws. He looked flushed with triumph. “I heard it creeping into one of the tunnels,” he explained. “I hoped you’d like it.”

  “I do!” Hollyleaf meowed. “Thanks!” She leaned forward to take a bite, then looked up. “There’s plenty here. Would you like some?”

  Fallen Leaves shook his head. “No, it’s all yours.” While Hollyleaf continued eating, he gently prodded her injured leg. “Is it mending, do you think?”

  Hollyleaf nodded with her mouth full. “Definitely,” she mumbled. “I can bend it now, and it doesn’t hurt so much when I move.”

  “You can try walking on it when you’ve finished eating,” Fallen Leaves decided. “Not too far, but you need to start exercising it before the muscles waste away.”

  Hollyleaf twitched her ears with surprise. Fallen Leaves sounded just like a medicine cat. He must have come from a Clan! Or something very close to a Clan—like the Tribe of Rushing Water. She swallowed and mewed, “Are you a Tribe cat? Did you come from the mountains?”

  Fallen Leaves stared blankly at her. “This is my home now,” he replied. “There is nowhere else.”

  Hollyleaf shivered as if a cold claw had run down her spine. There was something about Fallen Leaves’s voice that made her feel more alone and desperate than she could imagine. She straightened up and nudged away the scraps of mouse ears and tail. “Where should I walk?” she asked.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Fallen Leaves warned. “Just a few steps today, that’s all.”

  Hollyleaf used her front legs to push herself to her paws. A stab of pain ran up her injured leg, but she took a deep breath and kept her paw on the ground. Hesitantly, she took one step forward. Her hind leg held, though it felt weak and not quite connected to the rest of her. Hollyleaf limped toward the place where the light grew stronger. The walls of the tunnel opened out on either side into a small cave, about six fox-lengths wide. A tiny hole in the roof blazed with light, so bright that Hollyleaf had to screw up her eyes to look at it. “The sun is shining today,” Fallen Leaves commented as he came to stand by her shoulder.

  Hollyleaf turned to face him. “Do you ever go outside? How can you live here all the time?”

  Fallen Leaves looked away. “This is my home,” he repeated. “Now, can you make it back to your nest?”

  Hollyleaf started to walk back along the tunnel, frustrated that she hadn’t gone farther. But by the time she reached the dented pile of feathers her leg was aching badly, and she sank down with relief. “You can try again tomorrow,” Fallen Leaves meowed as if he could tell she was in pain. “Rest now.”

  He turned to leave but Hollyleaf reached out with one paw. “Wait! I’m bored of being on my own. Can’t you stay and talk to me?”

  Fallen Leaves viewed her with somber blue eyes. “Rest,” he mewed. “That way your leg will heal faster. I’ll see you again later.”

  He padded away and Hollyleaf slumped down on the feathers. She willed her leg to get better soon. She’d wanted to escape from ThunderClan, but a life in the dark, dependent on another cat for food and water, was not what she had imagined.

  KEEP READING FOR A SNEAK PEEK AT

  Yellowfang has dedicated her life to ShadowClan. She is a loyal medicine cat, ready and willing to do anything to protect her Clanmates and keep them safe. But a dark secret haunts her, threatening her life and the lives of every cat around her. . . .

  Prologue

  Starlight shone down into a large cavern through a ragged hole in the roof. The faint silver sheen was just enough to show a tall rock jutting from the floor in the center of the cave, flanked by soaring rock walls, and at one side, the dark, gaping hole of a tunnel entrance. The shadows in the mouth of the tunnel thickened, and six cats emerged into the cavern. Their leader, a speckled gray tom with clumped, untidy fur, padded up to the rock and turned to face the others.

  “Sagewhisker, Hawkheart, Milkfur,” he began, nodding to each cat as he named them, “we, the medicine cats of the four Clans, are here to carry out one of our most important ceremonies: the creation of a new medicine cat apprentice.”

  Two more cats lingered by the tunnel entrance, their eyes huge in the half-light. One of them shuffled his paws as if they had frozen to the cold stone.

  “For StarClan’s sake, Goosefeather, get on with it,” Hawkheart muttered with an impatient twitch of his tail.

  Goosefeather glared at him, then turned to the two young cats by the tunnel. “Featherpaw, are you ready?” he asked.

  The bigger of the two, a silver-pelted tom, gave a nervous nod. “I guess so,” he mewed.

  “Then come here and stand before the Moonstone,” Goosefeather directed. “Soon it will be time to share tongues with StarClan.”

  Featherpaw hesitated. “But I . . . I don’t know what to say when I meet our ancestors.”

  “You’ll know,” the other young cat told him. Her white pelt glimmered as she touched his shoulder with her muzzle. “It’ll be awesome, you’ll see. Just as it was when I became Milkfur’s apprentice!”

  “Thanks, Bramblepaw,” Featherpaw murmured.

  He padded up to Goosefeather, while Sagewhisker, Milkfur, and Hawkheart sat a couple of tail-lengths away. Bramblepaw took her place at her mentor’s side.

  Suddenly the moon appeared through the hole in the roof, shedding a dazzling white light into the cave. Featherpaw halted and blinked in astonishment as the Moonstone woke into gl
ittering life, blazing with silver.

  Goosefeather stepped forward to stand over him. “Featherpaw,” he meowed, “is it your wish to share the deepest knowledge of StarClan as a ThunderClan medicine cat?”

  Featherpaw nodded. “Yes,” he replied, his voice coming out as a breathless croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “It is.”

  “Then follow me.”

  Goosefeather turned, beckoning with his tail, and took the few paces that brought him close to the Moonstone. His pale blue eyes shone like twin moons as he spoke. “Warriors of StarClan, I present to you this apprentice. He has chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant him your wisdom and insight so that he may understand your ways and heal his Clan in accordance with your will.” Flicking his tail at Featherpaw, he whispered, “Lie down here, and press your nose against the stone.”

  Quickly Featherpaw obeyed, settling himself close to the stone and reaching out to touch its glimmering surface with his nose. The other medicine cats moved up beside him, taking similar positions all around the stone. In the silence and the brilliant light, the new medicine cat apprentice closed his eyes.

  Featherpaw’s eyes blinked open and he sprang to his paws. He was standing chest-deep in lush grass, in a clearing of a sunlit forest. Above his head, the trees rustled in the warm breeze. The air was laden with the scent of prey and damp fern.

  “Hi, Featherpaw!”