Warriors: Omen of the Stars #6: The Last Hope (5 page)

Jayfeather closed his eyes, listening to
the leaves crunch as Leafpool padded away. He could sense starlight dancing on his pelt. Far below, tiny waves splashed at the shore. Though he hated to admit it, Leafpool was right.

When he reached the Moonpool, Jayfeather called out hopefully. “Is anyone there?”

His mew echoed back, unanswered. He was alone.

Pushing away disappointment, he followed the dimpled path that spiraled down into the heart of the hollow. The wind whined overhead, worrying at the encircling rock like an abandoned kit searching for its mother. Jayfeather longed to feel the pelts of long-dead cats that used to jostle and hurry him down to the water’s edge. But there was no sign of the Ancients who had dented the stone with their pawsteps over so many generations. Jayfeather stopped alone at the water’s edge, hollow with a loneliness he’d never felt before. Closing his eyes, he crouched beside the Moonpool and touched his nose to the water.

“Jayfeather.”

Jayfeather sat up. He had expected to wake in the warm meadows of StarClan. But he was still in the hollow.

“Jayfeather.” A she-cat sat beside him.

He’d awoken into a vision; he could see her white pelt, spotted black along her flanks. Her pink nose stretched toward him, twitching as she sniffed.

Jayfeather blinked at her. “Who are you?”

“Brambleberry of RiverClan.”

Brambleberry
? Jayfeather suddenly recognized the pelt he’d seen often in StarClan’s hunting grounds. This was the gentle RiverClan medicine cat who tended to her Clan in the days before Leopardstar and Mistystar.

“Did Willowshine send you?” Jayfeather felt a flash of hope. Perhaps the RiverClan medicine cat was trying to communicate with him despite the rift between Clans.

Brambleberry shook her head. “I came to appeal to your wisdom, not hers.”

“But you’re RiverClan.”

“So?” Starlight twinkled in Brambleberry’s round blue eyes. “The Clans are like honeysuckle. One tendril chokes the other to reach for the light, believing they grow from separate stems.”

Jayfeather pricked his ears as she went on.

“When the sun shines, young leaves fight for its warmth. The struggle makes the bush strong, each branch seeking out the light and climbing ever higher.” Brambleberry’s eyes darkened. “But when there is no sun, when the leaves begin to fall and the branches wither one by one, the stem must look to its roots for nourishment.”

“So instead of four branches, there is one root,” Jayfeather murmured. “But how? The Clans have been divided since the beginning of time.”

“You have created your own boundaries, setting them and patrolling them.” Brambleberry tipped her head to one side. “But they exist only in your minds. Why else would you have to mark them each day with fresh scent?”

Was she saying they should live as one Clan? Jayfeather frowned. “But we need boundaries,” he argued. “To grow strong. You said so.”

“Perhaps,” Brambleberry conceded. “When the sun shines.” She leaned closer. “But a great darkness is coming.”

Jayfeather shifted his paws. “But I don’t want to become mixed up with ShadowClan, or WindClan, or RiverClan.”

Brambleberry gazed at him softly. “You’re already half-Clan.”

Jayfeather’s fur spiked. “I’m ThunderClan from nose to tail. And my heart is loyal only to them.”

“It was you who fixed your heart on ThunderClan,” Brambleberry insisted. “But you’re half-WindClan, just as Graystripe and Silverstream’s kits were half-RiverClan. And Stormfur’s heart beats for the Tribe now. Who knows where Feathertail’s loyalties would lie if she’d lived?” The old medicine cat dipped her head. “Loyalty makes Clan cats strong. But no Clan has pure blood running beneath every pelt.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jayfeather’s tail twitched. “Being half-Clan isn’t a sign of strength. It’s what happens when cats are disloyal.” He unsheathed his claws. “It’s what happens when they betray the warrior code!”

Brambleberry’s gaze hardened. “Are you listening to me?” she growled. “Or are you too busy worrying about whether your blood smells of forest or moorland?” She snorted. “The Clans must unite! Don’t look for boundaries that aren’t there. Look for the ones that are.”

Wind spiraled down into the hollow and set the Moonpool rippling. Jayfeather turned and saw its surface color and change until it reflected a landscape. A circle of water shone at its center, surrounded by hills and trees.

“It’s the lake!” he gasped. “And there’s ThunderClan territory!” He gazed at the bright green forest. This must be how an eagle would see the Clans’ territories. Jayfeather squinted, trying to make out more detail.

“Are you looking for the scent lines?” Brambleberry flicked her tail. “Can you see them?”

“It’s too far away.” Jayfeather could only see one landscape blending into another, the gentle slope of valleys and glittering trails cut by rivers and streams.

“This is how StarClan sees your home,” Brambleberry explained. “We see the beauty of it and the richness. We don’t see which tree belongs to which Clan. Don’t look for boundaries that aren’t there…”

“…look for the boundaries that
are.”
Jayfeather echoed her words, searching the landscape again. “But where are they?”

Brambleberry touched his cheek with her tail-tip, guiding his gaze back to her. “The only true borders lie between day and night, between life and death, between hope and loss.”

Jayfeather stared at the medicine cat. “So why is StarClan telling us to stay inside our territories, to listen only to our Clanmates?” he asked.

Brambleberry shifted her paws. “We can’t see your lands anymore,” she confessed. Her gaze flashed toward the pool. “It’s all dark to us now and we are frightened.”

Jayfeather whisked his tail. “What can I do?”

“Make them see!”

“The Clans?”

“StarClan!”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“I wasn’t born with the power of the stars in my paws!” Brambleberry turned and began to follow the curving path out of the hollow. “Make them understand that the Clans must fight together or die divided.”

“Wait!” Jayfeather dashed after her. “How can I convince them?”

Brambleberry glanced back. “You already know the answer.” Her voice echoed as she reached the edge of the hollow. “Three must become four to save all the Clans.”

Jayfeather stared as her white pelt vanished into the darkness. He glanced back at the Moonpool. It reflected only the starlit sky. Blinking, he tried to wake from his vision, and the hollow disappeared. Relieved, Jayfeather welcomed back his blindness.

Then something flashed at the edge of his vision.

I’m not blind! I’m still dreaming!

Shapes moved around him. Trees towered on every side. Darkness clung to everything.

“You won’t see us coming,” a voice whispered in his ear.

Jayfeather jerked away. A pelt brushed against him from the other side. Terrified, he turned, trying to see who was there. But the shapes kept moving, too dark to make out.

A growl sounded behind him. “Your death will come slowly and painfully.”

Jayfeather spun around, straining his eyes into the trees.

“There is nothing you can do to prevent it.”

I know that voice!
He tasted the air, the scent curling his tongue. He’d met this cat before, in the Dark Forest with Yellowfang. “Brokenstar?”

A shadow froze in front of him. Amber eyes gleamed from the darkness. Jayfeather jumped backward.

“Scared yet?” Brokenstar taunted.

Jayfeather lifted his chin. “We’re ready for you!”

“Really?” The eyes blinked. “I think some of your Clanmates are more ready than you know.”

“What do you mean?” Jayfeather stiffened against the shiver that clawed his spine.

“Listen.”

Jayfeather pricked his ears.

“Line up!” Somewhere in the trees, a tom was hissing orders. “Unsheathe your claws and prepare to attack!”

“They’re training,” Brokenstar explained.

“Which attack move do we use?”

Jayfeather’s fur bushed up as he recognized Blossomfall’s mew.

“The throat grip might work.” That was Birchfall!

“Not straight for the throat!” Breezepelt of WindClan snarled. “Death shouldn’t come too quickly. We must terrify our enemies before we kill them.”

“If we shred the cats in front it’ll unnerve those behind,” Tigerheart added.

“First scare them, then
scar
them.”

“Nice one, Icewing.” Beetlewhisker congratulated his Clanmate.

This was worse than Jayfeather had imagined.
We’ve lost so many to the darkness!
Jayfeather thought in horror. The Clans
must
fight as one, more fiercely than ever before, if they were going to defeat the Dark Forest army.

Pelts brushed bushes, fur snagging on thorns. Paws thrummed the ground.
They’re coming!
Jayfeather unsheathed his claws as he heard cats approaching swiftly through the trees. Hawkfrost broke from the shadows first. Behind him raced ranks of warriors, lean and low to the ground. Jayfeather scanned their faces. He recognized no one. He saw only eyes glittering with cruelty. These were different cats, Dark Forest warriors. They streamed toward him, teeth bared.

Jayfeather tried to run but his paws were frozen. As the first wave flooded around him, buffeting him, growls rumbling from every throat, Jayfeather blinked open his eyes.

He was blind again. The Moonpool lapped at his nose. With relief he felt smooth rock beneath his paws. His pelt was drenched with stinking dew, his breath fast as he struggled to his feet.

A voice startled him. “Jayfeather?”

“Mothwing?” Still struggling to push away his vision, Jayfeather tasted the air. The cold stone tang of the hollow was warmed by the scent of the RiverClan medicine cat.

“Are you all right?” Her whiskers brushed his cheeks as she leaned close.

“I’m fine.” Jayfeather shook his pelt and frowned. Why was Mothwing here? Although she was skilled with herbs and could treat any sickness, she had no connection with StarClan. She’d stopped coming to the half-moon Gatherings ages ago, letting her apprentice, Willowshine, share tongues with RiverClan’s ancestors instead.

“Are you the only one who came?” she meowed.

Jayfeather sat down. “Yes.”

“Willowshine refused.” Mothwing padded to the edge of the pool and Jayfeather heard her sniffing the water. “What is going on with StarClan? Willowshine told me they’d ordered her to stay away from the other medicine cats.” Her paws scuffed the stone as she turned to face Jayfeather. “It doesn’t make sense. Our shared code helps the Clans fight sickness. In the past it’s helped keep the peace.”

Jayfeather fixed his blind gaze on her. “Our code is no longer enough. StarClan is frightened.”

Surprise pulsed from Mothwing. “Of what?”

“The Dark Forest.” Jayfeather wondered whether to share what he knew. If Mothwing didn’t believe her ancestors lived on in the stars, she certainly wouldn’t believe in a forest filled with wicked cats. And yet, perhaps her lack of belief might be helpful. She couldn’t be touched by either StarClan or the Dark Forest warriors.

What if she’s the fourth cat!

Mothwing padded around him. “Willowshine says there will be a battle between StarClan and the Dark Forest.”

“She’s right,” Jayfeather meowed. “But when it comes, it won’t be just in our dreams; it’ll be
real.
It’ll be fought between living warriors on Clan territory.”

Mothwing halted. “How can that be?”

“The Dark Forest warriors have been training Clan cats as they sleep.” Jayfeather waited for disbelief to cloud Mothwing’s thoughts but, though fear sparked beneath her pelt, her mind was like a wide-open sky.

“Some of my Clanmates have been acting strange,” she murmured. “Restless and argumentative.”

Jayfeather pricked his ears. “Who?”

“Hollowflight, Icewing—”

“What about Beetlewhisker?”

Mothwing shifted her paws. “How did you know?”