Moonrise

  Warriors

  The New Prophecy

  MOONRISE

  ERIN

  HUNTER

  DEDICATION

  Special thanks to Cherith Baldry

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Allegiances

  Maps

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Keep Reading

  Also by the Author

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  ALLEGIANCES

  THUNDERCLAN

  LEADER

  FIRESTAR—ginger tom with a flame-coloured pelt

  DEPUTY

  GREYSTRIPE—long-haired grey tom

  MEDICINE CAT

  CINDERPELT—dark grey she-cat

  APPRENTICE, LEAFPAW

  WARRIORS

  (toms, and she-cats without kits)

  MOUSEFUR—small dusky brown she-cat

  APPRENTICE, SPIDERPAW

  DUSTPELT—dark brown tabby tom

  APPRENTICE, SQUIRRELPAW

  SANDSTORM—pale ginger she-cat

  APPRENTICE, SORRELPAW

  CLOUDTAIL—long-haired white tom

  BRACKENFUR—golden brown tabby tom

  APPRENTICE, WHITEPAW

  THORNCLAW—golden brown tabby tom

  APPRENTICE, SHREWPAW

  BRIGHTHEART—white she-cat with ginger patches

  BRAMBLECLAW—dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

  ASHFUR—pale grey (with darker flecks) tom, dark blue eyes

  RAINWHISKER—dark grey tom with blue eyes

  SOOTFUR—lighter grey tom with amber eyes

  APPRENTICES

  (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

  SORRELPAW—tortoiseshell and white she-cat with amber eyes

  SQUIRRELPAW—dark ginger she-cat with green eyes

  LEAFPAW—light brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes and white paws

  SPIDERPAW—long-limbed black tom with brown underbelly and amber eyes

  SHREWPAW—small dark brown tom with amber eyes

  WHITEPAW—white she-cat with green eyes

  QUEENS

  (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)

  GOLDENFLOWER—pale ginger coat, the oldest nursery queen

  FERNCLOUD—pale grey (with darker flecks) she-cat, green eyes

  ELDERS

  (former warriors and queens, now retired)

  FROSTFUR—beautiful white she-cat with blue eyes

  DAPPLETAIL—once-pretty tortoiseshell she-cat, the oldest cat in ThunderClan

  SPECKLETAIL—pale tabby she-cat

  LONGTAIL—pale tabby tom with dark black stripes, retired early due to failing sight

  SHADOWCLAN

  LEADER

  BLACKSTAR—large white tom with huge jet black paws

  DEPUTY

  RUSSETFUR—dark ginger she-cat

  MEDICINE CAT

  LITTLECLOUD—very small tabby tom

  WARRIORS

  OAKFUR—small brown tom

  APPRENTICE, SMOKEPAW

  TAWNYPELT—tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes

  CEDARHEART—dark grey tom

  ROWANCLAW—ginger she-cat

  APPRENTICE, TALONPAW

  TALLPOPPY—long-legged light brown tabby she-cat

  ELDERS

  RUNNINGNOSE—small grey-and-white tom, formerly the medicine cat

  WINDCLAN

  LEADER

  TALLSTAR—elderly black-and-white tom with a very long tail

  DEPUTY

  MUDCLAW—mottled dark brown tom

  APPRENTICE, CROWPAW—dark smoky grey, almost black, tom with blue eyes

  MEDICINE CAT

  BARKFACE—short-tailed brown tom

  WARRIORS

  ONEWHISKER—brown tabby tom

  WEBFOOT—dark grey tabby tom

  TORNEAR—tabby tom

  WHITETAIL—small white she-cat

  ELDERS

  MORNINGFLOWER—tortoiseshell she-cat

  RIVERCLAN

  LEADER

  LEOPARDSTAR—unusually spotted golden tabby she-cat

  DEPUTY

  MISTYFOOT—grey she-cat with blue eyes

  MEDICINE CAT

  MUDFUR—long-haired light brown tom

  APPRENTICE, MOTHWING—beautiful golden tabby she-cat with amber eyes

  WARRIORS

  BLACKCLAW—smoky black tom

  HEAVYSTEP—thickset tabby tom

  STORMFUR—dark grey tom with amber eyes

  FEATHERTAIL—light grey she-cat with blue eyes

  HAWKFROST—broad-shouldered dark brown tom

  MOSSPELT—tortoiseshell she-cat

  QUEENS

  DAWNFLOWER—pale grey she-cat

  ELDERS

  SHADEPELT—very dark grey she-cat

  LOUDBELLY—dark brown tom

  CATS OUTSIDE CLANS

  BARLEY—black-and-white tom that lives on a farm close to the forest

  RAVENPAW—sleek black cat that lives on the farm with Barley

  PURDY—elderly tabby tom that lives in woods near the sea

  MAPS

  PROLOGUE

  One by one, the cats crept into the cave. Their fur was streaked with mud and their eyes stretched wide with fear, reflecting the cold moonlight that filtered through a crack in the roof. They crouched low with their bellies close to the ground, their gazes flickering from side to side as if they expected to see danger lurking in the shadows.

  The glimmer of moonlight was caught in pools of water on the cave floor. It lit up a forest of pointed stones, some rising from the ground and others hanging from the cave roof. Some of the stones joined in the middle to form slender trees of gleaming white rock. Wind gusted through them, ruffling the cats’ fur. The air smelled damp and clean, and was filled with the distant roar of falling water.

  A cat stepped out from behind one of the pointed stones. He was long-bodied, with lean, muscular limbs, and his pelt was completely covered in mud that had dried into spikes, so that he looked like a cat carved in stone.

  “Welcome,” he meowed in a rasping voice. “Moonlight lies on the water. It is time for a Telling, according to the laws of the Tribe of Endless Hunting.”

  One of the cats crept forward, dipping his head to the mud-covered cat. “Stoneteller, have you had a sign? Has the Tribe of Endless Hunting spoken to you?”

  Another cat spoke from behind him. “Is there hope at last?”

  Stoneteller bowed his head. “I have seen the words of the Tribe of Endless Hunting in the pattern of moonlight on rock, in the shadows cast by the stones, in the sound of raindrops as they fall from the roof.” He paused, letting his gaze sweep over the cats around him. “Yes,” he went on. “They have told me there is hope.”

  A faint murmur, like the rustle of leaves in the wind, passed through the group of cats. Their eyes seemed to grow brighter, and their ears pricked. The one who had come forwards first mewed hesitantly, “Then you know what will rid us of this dreadful danger?”

  “Yes, Crag,” Stoneteller replied. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting has
promised me that a cat will come, a silver cat not from this Tribe, who will rid us of Sharptooth once and for all.”

  There was a pause, then: “Are there other cats, not in the Tribe of Rushing Water?” a voice asked from the back of the group.

  “There must be,” another cat replied.

  “I have heard tell of strangers,” meowed Crag, “though we’ve seen none here in our lifetimes. But when will the silver cat come?” he added desperately, and other mews rose from all around him.

  “Yes, when?”

  “Is it really true?”

  Stoneteller signalled for silence with a twitch of his tail. “Yes, it is true,” he meowed. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting has never lied to us. I have seen the sheen of his silver fur myself, in a moonlit pool.”

  “But when?” Crag persisted.

  “The Tribe of Endless Hunting has not shown that to me,” Stoneteller replied. “I do not know when the silver cat will come, or from where, but we will know it when he arrives.”

  He raised his head towards the cave roof, and his eyes shone like two tiny moons. “Until then, cats of my Tribe, we can only wait.”

  CHAPTER 1

  Stormfur opened his eyes, blinking away sleep, and struggled to remember where he was. Instead of his nest of reeds in the RiverClan camp, he was lying curled in dry, crunchy bracken. Above his head was the earth roof of a cave, crisscrossed with tangled roots. He could hear a rhythmic roaring sound faintly in the distance. At first it puzzled him; then he remembered how close they were to the sun-drown water, washing endlessly onto the edge of the land. He flinched as a vision burst into his mind, of how he and Brambleclaw had struggled in the water for their lives; he spat, still tasting the salty tang at the back of his throat. At home in RiverClan he was used to water—his was the only Clan that could swim comfortably in the river that ran through the forest—but not this surging, salty, pushing-and-pulling water, too strong even for a RiverClan cat to swim in safely.

  Other memories came rushing back. StarClan had sent cats from each of the four Clans on a long, dangerous journey, to hear what Midnight had to tell them. They had fought their way across unknown country, through Twoleg nests, facing attacks from dogs and rats, to make the last incredible discovery: that Midnight was a badger.

  Stormfur felt ice creeping along his limbs as he recalled Midnight’s dreadful message. Twolegs were destroying the forest to make a new Thunderpath. All the Clans would have to leave, and it was the task of StarClan’s chosen cats to warn them and lead them to a new home.

  Stormfur sat up and looked around the cave. Faint light filtered down the tunnel that led out onto the clifftop, along with a gentle current of fresh air that carried the scent of salt water. Midnight the badger was nowhere to be seen. Close beside Stormfur, his sister, Feathertail, was sleeping, her tail curled over her nose. Just beyond her was Tawnypelt, the fierce ShadowClan warrior; Stormfur was relieved to see that she was resting quietly, as if the rat bite she had suffered in the Twolegplace was troubling her less. Midnight’s store of herbs had yielded something to soothe the infection and help her sleep. On the opposite side of the cave, a little way apart, was the WindClan apprentice Crowpaw, his dark grey pelt barely visible among the fronds of bracken. Nearest the cave entrance, Tawnypelt’s brother, Brambleclaw, was stretched out beside Squirrelpaw, who slept in a tight ball. Stormfur felt a stab of jealousy at the sight of the two ThunderClan cats close together, and tried to push it away. He had no right to admire Squirrelpaw, and her courage and bright optimism, as much as he did, when they came from different Clans. Brambleclaw would make her a much better mate.

  Stormfur knew that he ought to rouse his companions so that they could begin their long journey back to the forest. Yet he was strangely reluctant. Let them sleep a little longer, he thought. We’ll need all our strength for what lies ahead.

  Shaking scraps of bracken from his pelt, he picked his way across the sandy floor of the cave and out through the tunnel. A stiff breeze ruffled his fur as he emerged onto the springy grass. He was dry at last, after his near-drowning the night before, and sleep had refreshed him. He stood gazing around him; just ahead was the edge of the cliff and beyond it lay an endless stretch of shimmering water, reflecting the pale light of dawn.

  Stormfur opened his jaws to drink in the air and catch the scent of prey. Instead his senses were flooded by a strong reek of badger. He caught sight of Midnight sitting on the highest point of the cliff, her small, bright eyes fixed on the fading stars. In the sky behind her, on the far side of the moorland, a strip of creamy light showed where the sun would rise. Stormfur padded over, dipping his head respectfully before sitting beside her.

  “Good morning, grey warrior,” Midnight’s voice rumbled in welcome. “Sleep you have enough?”

  “Yes. Thanks, Midnight.” Stormfur still found it strange to be exchanging friendly greetings with her, when badgers had always been deadly enemies of the warrior Clans.

  Yet Midnight was no ordinary badger. She seemed closer to StarClan than any warrior, except perhaps the medicine cats; she had travelled far and somehow had found the wisdom to foretell the future.

  Stormfur gave her a sidelong glance, to see her eyes still fixed on the remaining stars in the dawn sky. “Can you really read signs there from StarClan?” he asked curiously, half hoping that her terrible predictions from the night before would vanish in the light of morning.

  “Much is to be read everywhere,” the badger replied. “In stars, in running water, in flash of light on waves. Whole world speaks, if ears are open to listen.”

  “I must be deaf, then,” Stormfur meowed. “The future seems dark to me.”

  “Not so, grey warrior,” rasped Midnight. “See.” She pointed with her snout across the sun-drown water to where a single warrior of StarClan still shone brightly just above the horizon. “StarClan has seen our meeting. Pleased they are, and help they will give in dark days coming.”

  Stormfur gazed up at the brilliant point of light and let out a faint sigh. He was no medicine cat, accustomed to sharing tongues with their warrior ancestors. His task was to offer his strength and skill in the service of his Clan—and now, it seemed, of all the forest cats. Midnight had made it clear that each and every Clan would be destroyed if they could not ignore the ancient boundaries and work together for once.

  “Midnight, when we go home—”

  His question was never finished. A yowl interrupted him, and he turned to see Squirrelpaw burst out of the tunnel that led down into the badger’s sett. She stood in the entrance, her dark ginger fur fluffed up and her ears pricked.

  “I’m starving!” she announced. “Where’s the prey around here?”

  “Budge up, and let the rest of us out.” Crowpaw’s irritable voice sounded behind her. “Then we might be able to tell you.”

  Squirrelpaw bounced forwards a few paces, and the WindClan apprentice emerged, followed closely by Feathertail. She stretched with pleasure in the sunlight. Stormfur got up and bounded over the tough moorland grass so he could touch noses with his sister. He had not been one of StarClan’s original chosen cats, but he had insisted on coming on the journey to protect Feathertail. With their mother dead and their father living in a different Clan, the two cats were much closer than ordinary siblings.

  Midnight lumbered after him and nodded a greeting to the cats.

  “Tawnypelt’s much better this morning,” Feathertail reported. “She says her shoulder hardly hurts at all.” To Midnight she added, “That burdock root you gave her really helped.”

  “Root is good,” the badger rumbled. “Now injured warrior travel well.”

  As she spoke, Tawnypelt herself appeared from the tunnel; Stormfur was relieved to see that she looked stronger after her long sleep and was scarcely limping at all.

  Following Tawnypelt, her brother, Brambleclaw, pushed his way out of the tunnel and stood blinking in the growing light. “The sun’s nearly up,” he meowed. “It’s time we were on our way
.”

  “But we have to eat first!” Squirrelpaw wailed. “My belly is growling louder than a monster on the Thunderpath! I could eat a fox, fur and all.”

  Stormfur had to agree with her. Hunger clawed at his own belly, and he knew that without food they would not be able to face the long and exhausting journey back to the forest. Yet he shared Brambleclaw’s urgency; how would they feel if they delayed too long, and then discovered cats had died because of it?

  A look of exasperation flitted over Brambleclaw’s face. His voice was firm as he replied, “We’ll pick up some prey as we go. And once we get back to the woods where we made camp, we’ll have a proper hunt.”

  “Bossy furball,” Squirrelpaw muttered.