Stepping on Shadows

Prologue

The cold stars from the heavens above blazed with blinding light if they were stared at for too long. The forest was eerily silent, frigid and dark. It may have been newleaf, but the woods were certainly freezing. Even frost skimmed the surface of the black grass.

A lone tom padded through this forest. His fur stood on end, for he did not know what to expect in this cold, dark place. In the real world, it was Greenleaf, not newleaf as it appeared to be here, or even leaf-bare, as it felt on his pelt. A brisk wind cut through his fluffed fur, and the bristling tom hissed. When would these dreams end? He had never met a single cat out here before, not once since the night of Bluestar’s death. Once, he’d been visited by StarClan not too uncommonly, and it scared him not to see any of them. Have they abandoned me for good? Though every time he’d done it, it had been in vain, he called softly. “Spottedleaf? Bluestar?” There was no response. But as the warrior tom padded along frightened, a dim light appeared at the end of his path. “There is an end to this forest after all!” The tom picked up his pace and bounded for the edge of the darkest forest.

When the warrior tom burst into the open, he found himself on an open moor. He looked up and he could see the stars…which meant StarClan could finally see him as well. His fur was colorful in the night world once more; ginger, the color of flame. His glittering emerald eyes shone like a green moon in the silver-washed night. The forest seemed even darker behind him as the orange tom dropped to his back and rolled in the moonlight. It would have looked silly to any other cat…but there were no other cats around. The ginger cat stood on sturdy fiery legs and loped farther and farther from the trapping woods. He was afraid if he remained too close, it would swallow him into its clutches as it had every night for moons.

The flame-pelted warrior could not see the tops of the trees anymore as he reached the rise of the moor. He was bathing in pure moonlight, and his own ginger fur was now dyed white. The glory of the stars brightened and began to swirl to the earth. The warrior sighed. StarClan had come at last.

“Fireheart, my apprentice,” a gray she-cat forming from the moonlight purred. “It has been moons. How are you?”

Fireheart glared at his former mentor and leader. “You’ve trapped me in that place for a season. Why must StarClan punish me at night while ThunderClan does by day, Bluestar?”

Bluestar tipped her head, and wrapped her star-filled tail around her paws. “Tell me what I wrong, Fireheart.”

“Ever since Tigerstar became leader, no one trusts me anymore,” Fireheart sighed. “Cloudpaw is alright, because he has no reason to hate me, but he repeats things his den mates and warriors say about me. Sandstorm doesn’t trust me anymore…for StarClan’s sake, she’s having kits with Dustpelt. She’ll move into the nursery soon. Everything’s gone wrong, Bluestar, and I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

Bluestar’s tip of her tail touched the ginger cat’s shoulder lightly. “That’s not so terrible, Fireheart. That is only two cats.”

“It’s all of ThunderClan!” Fireheart wailed. “No cat dares approaches me in the warrior den, and now that Graystripe’s gone, I’m utterly alone.”

“What about Yellowfang and Cinderpaw?”

“They do not hate me,” Fireheart admitted. “But they are so busy lately, because of RiverClan and WindClan. Tigerstar refuses to remain friends with Tallstar, and now WindClan warriors are close to engaging battle against ThunderClan. Tigerstar is telling lies about me, I just know it.”

Bluestar’s tail whisked away, and her blue eyes were sharper. “Now there’s no reason to blame Tigerstar. He is a wonderful leader, Fireheart, and there is absolutely no reason to say the things you do about him.”

“Why do you defend Tigerstar?” Fireheart hissed to the former ThunderClan leader. “I know he killed you, Bluestar!”

The beautiful gray she-cat hissed with fury. “Tigerstar is not the cat you portray him as! He did not murder me!”

“Even in death you don’t believe me!” Fireheart screeched, orange tail lashing. “You know I’m right about him; you’re in StarClan, you know the truth!”

“Can’t you just admit that you were wrong about Tigerstar?” Bluestar hissed softly. “Whoever he was before, that life was stripped away when he gained the nine lives of a leader. The ambition for power went with it.”

Fireheart shook his fiery head. “I refuse to believe that, Bluestar. I shall prove his guilt. After I do, no cat in all the Clans will want to see his face.” The ginger warrior turned away from his former leader, and ran farther into the moor. The StarClan warrior watched him go but made no attempt to stop him.

When Fireheart passed a puddle of starry water, a slippery outline of a cat formed from it. A beautiful dark tortoiseshell sat calmly beside the little pond. “Going somewhere, Fireheart?”

“Spottedleaf,” he whispered. The two cats pushed muzzles against each other, but the she-cat drew back, seeing the uncertainty in his eyes. “Fireheart, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Bluestar,” Fireheart admitted. “She doesn’t believe me when I say Tigerstar is a traitor.” He looked into her amber eyes. “You believe me, right Spottedleaf?”

Spottedleaf twined her tail with his. “I believe he was once one. And I trust you, Fireheart, unlike those ThunderClan warriors. I may have given one of Tigerstar’s lives to him, but I did it so everything would be peaceful once more.”

“Spottedleaf, how could you!” Fireheart spat. “I trusted you, and you give a life to that piece of fox-dung?”

Spottedleaf waited until the ThunderClan warrior stopped, and then mewed, “Dear Fireheart. I believe that your feud against Tigerstar will not last until death.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Good,” Spottedleaf purred. “Understanding before learning is like eating a mouse before catching one. It can’t be done.” Her dappled tail flicked to the rising sun on the horizon. “The eyes of StarClan cannot last forever, for morning must come. Goodbye, Fireheart, and trust your heart, not your conceptions or misconceptions. You will know what is right someday.” She licked him between his ears. “I love you, Fireheart.”

“And I you,” he purred. In an instant, Spottedleaf was gone, and the starry moor disappeared in a flash of light. Fireheart blinked open his eyes to see a dark-pelted brown tom prodding him in his side, staring down at him with sharp copper eyes. “Wake up, Fireheart. You’re needed for a dawn patrol.”

“Yes, Dustpelt,” Fireheart sighed. The brown warrior grumbled something, and then padded over to wake Swiftfoot. The flame-colored warrior padded into the early-lit camp, and gazed up to the pale sky. Oh, Spottedleaf. I need your help now more than ever.