The Last Hope

Kestrelflight growled. “We can fight off a few mangy dead cats.”

Jayfeather leaned forward, his heart pounding. “It’s not just a few dead cats!” he hissed. “They’ve been training our Clanmates.”

Willowshine gulped. “How?”

“In their dreams!” Jayfeather ignored the shock sparking from the pelts around him. They had to know the truth.

“WindClan wouldn’t betray their own!” Kestrelflight snarled.

“Most of them don’t understand what they’re doing,” Jayfeather explained. “They believe they’re being loyal. They think Brokenstar and his Clanmates are teaching them to be better warriors so they can fight for their Clans.”

“Most of them?” Willowshine echoed. “What about the others?”

Jayfeather faced her. “Some of them want the Dark Forest to win.”

“We can handle a few traitors!” Littlecloud paced around Willowshine.

“I hope you’re right,” Jayfeather muttered darkly. “But Brokenstar has threatened the worst punishment to any cat who betrays him. And in the chaos of battle—with all four Clans under attack—do you really think the battle lines will be so clearly drawn?” Jayfeather stalked down to the water’s edge. “Blood will flow from every Clan.” He turned, widening his sightless eyes. “It’s Tigerstar’s destiny to destroy us all.”

“What can we do?” Willowshine breathed.

He crouched beside the Moonpool. “It’s my destiny to stop him.”

“How?” Littlecloud padded closer.

Jayfeather hesitated. “I don’t know.” He’d warned the medicine cats. They could pass on his warning to their Clans. But would that be enough?

Willowshine shifted her paws. “StarClan will protect us.”

“StarClan is divided,” Kestrelflight reminded her.

Jayfeather gripped the rock with his claws, fighting back the fear that was turning his belly cold. “They’re more scared than we are,” he murmured.

Willowshine’s breath quickened. “How can we fight the Dark Forest alone?”

When all cats have closed eyes, we gave the gift of sight to the cat who is blind. You see more than most. Midnight’s words suddenly flooded back to him, and Brambleberry’s mew echoed in his ears: You already know the answer.

Jayfeather lifted his chin. “Flametail united us,” he declared. “Now I will unite StarClan.”

“How?” Littlecloud’s tail-tip whipped the stone.

“I’ll let them see the danger for themselves!” Jayfeather turned and touched his nose tip to the Moonpool.

At once, the world opened around him and his blindness lifted. He was on a grassy hilltop, dark clouds skimming overhead. Wind-battered meadows stretched below him. Trees huddled in the valleys, stripped of leaves. StarClan’s hunting grounds had slid deep into leaf-bare.

“Where’s the sun gone?” Willowshine shimmered into view beside Jayfeather, her nose sparkling with water from the Moonpool.

Kestrelflight stalked from the long grass, eyes round as he adjusted to the gloom.

“Now what?” Littlecloud’s pelt brushed his flank as the ShadowClan medicine cat joined them.

“Each of you must go to your own ancestors and bring them here.”

Willowshine stared down to a muddy river flowing between the fields. Littlecloud faced the swath of dark forest spreading beside it while Kestrelflight fixed his gaze on the rolling moorland beyond.

“Can you do it?” From here Jayfeather could see the tops of the mighty oaks where ThunderClan sheltered beneath.

“I’ll bring every cat that I find.” Littlecloud headed down the hillside.

Kestrelflight broke into a run, streaking toward the moors.

“Willowshine?” Jayfeather saw the RiverClan medicine cat hesitate.

She whisked her tail. “Will the Dark Forest warriors come here, too?”

Jayfeather flattened his ears. “We won’t let them.”

Willowshine flashed him an anxious look and began to trot toward the river. Jayfeather headed down the hill and into the woods.

A white pelt moved at the edge of his vision. He snapped his head around. Whitestorm! The ThunderClan warrior was stalking prey. Tail down, muzzle low, he crept forward, his eyes fixed ahead. A mouse skittered over a tree root a tail-length away. Whitestorm sprang and landed on it squarely, killing it and sitting up with a purr rumbling in his throat.

Jayfeather padded out of the shadows. “I’m glad there’s still prey here.”

Whitestorm jerked around, blinking. The mouse dropped from his jaws. “Hi, Jayfeather.”

“Follow me, Whitestorm. Please, it’s important.” He stared into the white warrior’s eyes. “We need to gather StarClan.”

Whitestorm tipped his head. “Everyone?”

“As many as we can.” Jayfeather bounded forward and broke into a run.

Whitestorm chased after him. “But what about the boundaries?”

“The other medicine cats are helping me gather ShadowClan, WindClan, and RiverClan.” He ducked just in time to avoid the prickly stem of a bramble.

“Didn’t StarClan order you to stay away from the other medicine cats?”

“Yes.” Jayfeather caught sight of a matted old tom snoozing in the shelter of a fern. “Goosefeather!”