Erin Hunter - Twilight

“Hi,” Squirrelflight meowed, dropping her load on the pile. “It’s great to see you again. You’ll never guess what happened while you were away!”

“What?” Squirrelflight’s eyes were gleaming with satisfaction, so it couldn’t be anything bad.

Ashfur brushed his nose against Squirrelflight’s fur. “You tell Leafpool all about it,” he mewed. “I’ll go back and collect that last squirrel you caught.”

“Thanks.” Squirrelflight flicked her ears at him. “See you later.”

While she listened with half an ear to Squirrelflight telling her about the kittypets in ShadowClan territory, another pang of envy sank its claws into Leafpool. Her sister and Ashfur were getting along so well together, working as a team, sleeping side by side in the warriors’ den. Why couldn’t she share anything like that with Crowfeather? Because you’re a medicine cat , she reminded herself. She had no right to be in love, even if Crowfeather had been a ThunderClan cat. There was no hope that they could be together.

“Are you okay?” Squirrelflight broke off what she was saying to look at Leafpool with concern. “Everything’s all right in RiverClan, isn’t it?”

“Yes, everything’s fine now.” Leafpool longed to pour out her problems to her sister, but she couldn’t take any cat into her confidence. Instead, she forced herself to sit and eat her vole, and make all the right admiring comments about the raid on the kittypets.

Oh StarClan , she sighed, why does your way have to be so difficult ?

Leafpool was still feeling confused as the sun went down, but when she curled up in her nest outside Cinderpelt’s den, she fell asleep almost at once. She found herself padding through deep woods, the kind of place where she had often walked with warriors of StarClan.

“Spottedleaf?” she called. She was desperate to speak with her, to make sure her warrior ancestors weren’t punishing her for thinking about Crowfeather. “Are you there?”

But there was no trace of the medicine cat’s sweet scent.

Clumps of fern arched above her, and when she looked up for a glimpse of the starry warriors overhead, massive branches blocked her view of the sky. They shifted with a desolate creaking sound; the wind that stirred them probed her pelt with icy claws.

“Where are you?” Panic surged through her. “Spottedleaf, Feathertail, don’t leave me alone!”

She remembered her dream at the Moonpool, when she had been unable to work out what her warrior ancestors were saying. She knew instinctively that they were not here now.

Perhaps she had lost them forever. She began to run, scrambling over gnarled roots and forcing her way through thorn thickets.

At last Leafpool spotted a faint light through the trees. She veered toward it until she halted, gasping for breath, at the edge of a clearing. Light filtered down, but it seemed gray and sickly, not like the silver blaze of the stars she was used to. It lay heavily on a thick covering of dead leaves and clumps of fungus that glowed with a light of their own.

In the center of the clearing a gray rock pushed up at an angle out of the leaf-mold. A massive tabby tom crouched there, his paws tucked under him and his gaze fixed intently on two cats who sat at the base of the rock, their faces turned toward him.

Leafpool let out a gasp, so loud she was sure the three cats must have heard her, and shrank back fearfully against the nearest tree trunk. She recognized the two cats on the ground instantly: one was her Clanmate Brambleclaw, the other his half brother, Hawkfrost. And that meant she could put a name to the huge tabby on the rock, who looked so much like both of them.

He must be their father, Tigerstar!

Shivering, Leafpool peered out into the clearing. If Tigerstar looked up, she felt as if his amber gaze could have burned away the tree trunk to reveal her cowering behind it. Instead, his eyes were fixed on his sons. But this was a dream! Had Tigerstar called them to him as they slept, in the same way that medicine cats walked in dreams with StarClan? He had brought them somewhere Leafpool had never been before, a place of endless night where living cats never set paw. Even StarClan, she guessed, had never breathed the dank airs of this forest, or padded through its sickly light.

“Courage matters more than anything,” Tigerstar was saying. “Remember that, when you are leaders.”

Hawkfrost meowed something that Leafpool didn’t catch; Tigerstar twitched his tail impatiently.

“Of course courage in battle is important,” he rasped, “but I’m talking about courage in the way you deal with your own Clan. They must accept your orders, and if they question you, back up your decisions with tooth and claw.”

Leafpool’s eyes stretched wide in disbelief. Firestar had never attacked a member of his Clan, even if they disagreed with him.

“Weakness is dangerous,” the huge tabby continued. “You must hide your doubts—or better still, don’t have doubts at all. You must always be certain that what you are doing is right.”

Was that how Tigerstar had felt, Leafpool wondered, when he had murdered Redtail and plotted the murder of Bluestar so that he could be Clan leader? When he led the dog pack to the ThunderClan camp to gain revenge, and brought BloodClan into the forest to help him force the other Clans into submission—had he been completely sure that he was right?

Hawkfrost’s ice-blue eyes were fixed on his father; he was obviously drinking in every word. Brambleclaw had his back to Leafpool so she couldn’t see his expression, but his ears were pricked. Icy claws gripped her heart. Tigerstar was training his sons, like a warrior preparing an apprentice for battle! He was trying to turn them into the kind of murderous tyrant he had been.

“But how do we become leaders?” Brambleclaw asked. “I don’t think Firestar will ever make me his deputy. I haven’t even had an apprentice yet.”

The fur on Tigerstar’s shoulders bristled. “When you hunt, do you expect the mice to leap into your jaws?” he hissed. “No. You scent your prey, you stalk it, and then you pounce. It’s the same with power. It won’t come to you unless you seek it.”

Brambleclaw muttered something, and Leafpool saw Tigerstar’s neck fur lie flat again.

“Don’t worry,” he meowed. “Both of you have the true spirit of warriors. I know you will succeed if you follow my pawsteps closely.”

“We will!” Hawkfrost leapt to his paws. “We’ll do whatever you tell us.”

His enthusiasm chilled Leafpool. What could this bloodthirsty cat command his sons to do? She shrank back, shivering, and although she didn’t think she had made a sound, the huge tabby’s head swung around and he peered into the shadows where she was hiding.

Terrified, Leafpool turned and fled, blundering among roots and trailing stems of bramble, bracing herself to hear sounds of pursuit and to feel a massive paw grabbing her by the throat. There were no paths out of the dark forest. Trees stretched endlessly on every side, and there was no birdsong or rustle of prey, no sign that any living creature had ever trodden among these dark thickets.

Where am I ? There was no reply to Leafpool’s silent wail.

What had brought her to this place where StarClan had never set paw, where the spirit of a murderous cat could call his sons to him in dreams?

In her panic-stricken flight Leafpool didn’t look where she was going. Suddenly the ground gave way under her paws.

She let out a shocked yowl as she plunged into darkness; her body hit the ground with a thump that drove the breath out of her.