Sunset Read online

  Dedication

  To Rod Ritchie,

  who first figured out what really goes on beyond the garden fence . . .

  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

  Also by Erin Hunter

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Allegiances

  THUNDERCLAN

  LEADER FIRESTAR—ginger tom with a flame-coloured pelt

  DEPUTY GREYSTRIPE—long-haired grey tom

  MEDICINE CAT LEAFPOOL—light brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes

  WARRIORS (toms, and she-cats without kits)

  DUSTPELT—dark brown tabby tom

  SANDSTORM—pale ginger she-cat

  CLOUDTAIL—long-haired white tom

  BRACKENFUR—golden brown tabby tom

  APPRENTICE, WHITEPAW

  THORNCLAW—golden brown tabby tom

  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 apprentice, birchpaw

  RAINWHISKER—dark grey tom with blue eyes

  SQUIRRELFLIGHT—dark ginger she-cat with green eyes

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

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

  WHITEPAW—white she-cat with green eyes

  BIRCHPAW—light brown tabby tom

  QUEENS (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)

  FERNCLOUD—pale grey (with darker flecks) she-cat, green eyes, mother of Dustpelt’s kits

  SORRELTAIL—tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat with amber eyes

  DAISY—cream-coloured, long-furred cat from the horseplace

  ELDERS (former warriors and queens, now retired)

  GOLDENFLOWER—pale ginger coat, the oldest nursery queen

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

  MOUSEFUR—small dusky brown she-cat

  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 (toms, and she-cats without kits)

  OAKFUR—small brown tom

  APPRENTICE, SMOKEPAW

  CEDARHEART—dark grey tom

  ROWANCLAW—ginger tom

  TAWNYPELT—tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes

  QUEENS (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)

  TALLPOPPY—long-legged light brown tabby she-cat

  ELDERS (former warriors and queens, now retired)

  BOULDER—skinny grey tom

  WINDCLAN

  LEADER ONESTAR—brown tabby tom

  DEPUTY ASHFOOT—grey she-cat

  MEDICINE CAT BARKFACE—short-tailed brown tom

  WARRIORS (toms, and she-cats without kits)

  TORNEAR—tabby tom

  WEBFOOT—dark grey tabby tom

  CROWFEATHER—dark grey tom

  OWLWHISKER—light brown tabby tom

  NIGHTCLOUD—black she-cat

  WEASELFUR—ginger tom with white paws

  QUEENS (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)

  WHITETAIL—small white she-cat

  ELDERS (former warriors and queens, now retired)

  MORNINGFLOWER—tortoiseshell queen

  RUSHTAIL—light brown tom

  RIVERCLAN

  LEADER LEOPARDSTAR—unusually spotted golden tabby she-cat

  DEPUTY MISTYFOOT—grey she-cat with blue eyes

  MEDICINE CAT MOTHWING—dappled golden she-cat

  APPRENTICE, WILLOWPAW

  WARRIORS (toms, and she-cats without kits)

  BLACKCLAW—smoky black tom

  APPRENTICE, BEECHPAW

  HAWKFROST—dark brown tom with a white underbelly and ice-blue eyes

  VOLETOOTH—small brown tabby tom

  SWALLOWTAIL—dark tabby she-cat

  STONESTREAM—grey tom

  REEDWHISKER—black tom

  APPRENTICE, RIPPLEPAW

  QUEENS (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)

  MOSSPELT—tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes

  DAWNFLOWER—pale grey she-cat

  ELDERS (former warriors and queens, now retired)

  HEAVYSTEP—thickset tabby tom

  THE TRIBE OF RUSHING WATER

  BROOK WHERE SMALL FISH SWIM (BROOK)—brown tabby she-cat

  STORMFUR—dark grey tom with amber eyes

  OTHER ANIMALS

  SMOKY—muscular grey and white tom who lives in a barn at the horseplace

  FLOSS—small grey and white she-cat who lives at the horseplace

  PIP—black and white terrier who lives with Twolegs near the horseplace

  MIDNIGHT—a stargazing badger who lives by the sea

  Maps

  Prologue

  Night lay heavily over the forest. No wind stirred the long grass at the edge of the path where a massive tabby cat stalked through the shadows. He paused, ears pricked, amber eyes narrowed. No moon or stars shone in the sky above his head but tree trunks thick with fungus shed an eerie glow on the bare earth beneath his paws.

  The huge tom opened his jaws to draw in air, though he did not expect to taste the scent of prey. He knew that the twitching of the ferns meant nothing, and the flickering scraps of darkness that he could see from the corner of his eye would vanish like mist if he pounced on them. There was no hunger in this place, but he longed for the sensation of claws sinking into prey and the first warm bite of fresh-kill after a successful hunt.

  The fur on his neck and shoulders rose as a new scent drifted towards him: the scent of cat, but not the two he had met here before. This was a different cat, a cat he knew from long ago. He stalked forward, following the scent, until the trees thinned out and he stood at the edge of a clearing washed by sickly light. The other cat came bounding across the open space to meet him, ears flattened and eyes wild with terror.

  “Tigerstar!” he gasped, sliding to a halt and cowering to the ground. “Where did you come from? I thought I was alone here.”

  “Get up, Darkstripe.” The tabby tom’s voice was a rumble of disgust. “Stop cringing like a terrified kit.”

  Darkstripe rose to his paws and gave his fur a couple of quick licks. Once sleek like a well-fed fish, his pelt was now thin and tangled with burrs. “I don’t understand this place,” he meowed. “Where are we? Where are StarClan?”

  “StarClan do not walk here.”

  Darkstripe’s eyes stretched wide. “Why not? And why is it always dark here? Where is the moon?” A shiver ran through him. “I thought we would be hunting across the sky with our warrior ancestors, and watching over our Clanmates.”

  Tigerstar let out a faint hiss. “That way is not for us. But I don’t need starlight to follow my path. If StarClan think they can forget about us, they’re wrong.”

  He turned his back on Darkstripe, shouldering his way
through the ferns without waiting to see whether the other cat followed him or not.

  “Wait,” Darkstripe panted, scrambling after him. “Tell me what you mean.”

  The massive tabby glanced back, his amber eyes reflecting the pale light. “Firestar thought he won when Scourge took my nine lives. He is a fool. What lies between us is not over yet.”

  “But what can you do to Firestar now?” Darkstripe protested. “You can’t leave this forest. I know—I’ve tried. But however far I walk, the trees never end, and there’s no light anywhere.”

  Tigerstar did not reply at once. He padded on through the undergrowth with Darkstripe following close behind. The smaller cat started at every rustle among the ferns and every flickering shadow that fell across his path. Once he halted, eyes staring, jaws open to taste the air.

  “I can scent Brokenstar!” he exclaimed. “Is he here too? Brokenstar, where are you?”

  Tigerstar stopped and looked back. “Save your breath. Brokenstar won’t answer you. You will sense traces of many cats here, but seldom will you meet one face-to-face. We may be trapped in one place, but we are trapped alone.”

  “Then how do you expect to deal with Firestar?” Darkstripe asked. “He doesn’t even walk this forest.”

  “I won’t deal with him.” Tigerstar’s voice was a soft, threatening growl. “My sons will. Together, Hawkfrost and Brambleclaw will show Firestar that the battle is far from won.”

  Darkstripe’s gaze flickered to his former leader’s face and away again. “But how can you make Hawkfrost and Brambleclaw do what you want?”

  Tigerstar silenced him with a single lash of his tail. His claws flexed in and out, scoring the earth beneath his paws. “I have learned to walk in the paths of their dreams,” he hissed. “And I have time. All the time in the world. When they have destroyed that mangy kittypet, I’ll make them leaders of their Clans, and show them what true power is.”

  Darkstripe flinched back into the shelter of a clump of bracken. “They couldn’t have a better teacher,” he meowed.

  “They will learn the best fighting skills in the forest,” Tigerstar went on, as if the other cat had not spoken. “They will learn to have no mercy on any cat who tries to oppose them. And in the end, they will divide the entire territory around the lake between them.”

  “But there are four Clans—”

  “And soon there will be only two. Two Clans of purebred warriors, not weakened by kittypets and halfClan cats. Firestar has already taken in that useless lump of fur from the horseplace, and her whining kits. Is that any way to lead a Clan?”

  Darkstripe bowed his head, ears flattened in agreement.

  “Hawkfrost is fearless,” Tigerstar growled approvingly. “He proved that when he drove a badger out of RiverClan’s territory. And he showed great wisdom when he helped his sister become a medicine cat. Her support will smooth his path to leadership, and Hawkfrost knows that. He knows that power comes only to those who want it most.”

  “Yes, he’s truly your son.” The words spilled out of Darkstripe like rainwater from an upturned leaf, but if Tigerstar was aware of any edge to them, he ignored it.

  “As for Brambleclaw . . .” Tigerstar narrowed his eyes. “He has courage too, but he is troubled by his loyalty to that fool Firestar. He must learn to allow nothing—not his leader, not the warrior code, not StarClan themselves—to stand in his way. He earned the respect of every cat when he made the journey to the sun-drown-place and led the Clans to their new home. His reputation alone should make it easy for him to take control.” He straightened, his powerful shoulder muscles rippling. “I will show him how.”

  “I could help you,” Darkstripe offered.

  Tigerstar turned on him with a look of cold contempt. “I need no help. Did you not hear me say that every cat walks this dark forest alone?”

  Darkstripe shivered. “But it’s so empty and silent . . . Tigerstar, let me come with you.”

  “No.” There was a hint of regret in Tigerstar’s voice, but no hesitation. “Don’t try to follow me. Cats have no friends or allies here. They must walk their path of shadows alone.”

  Darkstripe sat up, curling his tail over his forepaws. “Where are you going now?”

  “To meet my sons.” He bounded away down the path, his fur gleaming in the pale yellowish light. Darkstripe was left behind, crouching in the shadow of the ferns.

  Before Tigerstar vanished into the trees he glanced back to make one last promise. “Firestar will learn that my time is not yet over. He may have seven lives left to lose, but I will stalk him through my sons until every one has been ripped from him. This is one battle that he will not win.”

  Chapter 1

  Brambleclaw stood in the middle of the clearing, gazing at what was left of the ThunderClan camp. A crescent moon, thin as a claw, drifted above the trees that surrounded the stone hollow. Its pale light revealed the dens trampled down, the thorn barrier at the camp entrance broken and tossed aside, and the wounded cats of ThunderClan slowly creeping from the shadows, their fur bristling and their eyes stretched wide with shock. Brambleclaw could still hear the trampling of the badgers as they lumbered away. The undergrowth beyond the entrance quivered where they had pushed through, driven off with the help of Onestar and the WindClan warriors who had come just in time to help ThunderClan.

  But it wasn’t the sight of devastation that prickled Brambleclaw’s pelt and kept his paws frozen to the ground. Two cats he had never thought he’d see again were picking their way carefully among the scattered thorns of the entrance barrier. They were uninjured, their pelts sleek and their eyes alight with alarm.

  “Stormfur! What are you doing here?” Brambleclaw called.

  The powerful grey tomcat paced forward until he could touch noses with Brambleclaw. “It’s good to see you again,” he meowed. “I . . . I wanted to see if you’d found a place to live. But what has happened here?”

  “Badgers,” Brambleclaw replied. He glanced around, wondering where to begin helping his wounded and frightened Clanmates.

  Beside Stormfur, the slender brown tabby she-cat brushed her tail against a long scratch on Brambleclaw’s shoulder. “You’re hurt,” she mewed.

  Brambleclaw twitched his ears. “It’s nothing. Welcome to ThunderClan, Brook. I’m sorry you had to travel so far to find us like this.” He paused and looked from one to the other. “Is everything all right in the Tribe of Rushing Water? I never expected you to come and visit us so soon.”

  Stormfur shot a glance at Brook, so swift Brambleclaw almost missed it. “Everything’s fine,” he meowed. “We just wanted to be sure you had found a new place to live, like StarClan promised.”

  Brambleclaw looked around the devastated camp, the stricken cats stumbling through the remains of their home. “Yes, we found it,” he murmured.

  “You said badgers attacked you?” Brook prompted, sounding puzzled.

  “They came here on purpose,” Brambleclaw explained. “StarClan knows where they came from, more badgers than I’ve ever seen in my life. They would have killed us all if WindClan hadn’t turned up.” His paws trembled, and he sank his claws into the bloodstained earth to keep himself steady.

  Stormfur nodded. “Don’t worry about telling us everything now. What can we do to help?”

  Brambleclaw sent a silent prayer of thanks to StarClan that they had chosen this moment to send his old friend back to the Clans. He and Stormfur had been through a lot together on the first journey to the sun-drown-place, and he could think of few cats he’d rather have beside him now.

  He turned his head as a thin wail came from a trampled clump of ferns at the edge of the hollow. “We need to find all the cats that have been badly wounded. Some will be on their way to join StarClan,” he warned, glancing at Brook. “The badgers came to kill, not drive us out.”

  Brook met his gaze steadily. “Whatever they have done, I want to help. I have seen this kind of savagery before from Sharptooth, remember?” Sharptooth was a gi
ant mountain cat that had terrorised the Tribe of Rushing Water for many moons, until the cats from the forest arrived. Stormfur’s sister, Feathertail, had died in the fall that killed the savage animal.

  “We’ll do whatever we have to,” Stormfur promised. “Just tell us what to do. Are you ThunderClan’s deputy now?”

  Brambleclaw studied a fragment of moss that was trapped under his front paw. “No,” he admitted. “Firestar has decided not to appoint another deputy. He wants to give Greystripe more time to come back.”

  “That’s tough.” There was a note of sympathy in Stormfur’s voice that made Brambleclaw wince. He didn’t want any cat’s pity.

  Suddenly Brook froze. “I thought you said the badgers had gone,” she hissed.

  Brambleclaw whipped around, then relaxed as he saw a familiar, pointed, black-and-white face pushing its way out of a clump of dead bracken.

  Stormfur touched Brook’s shoulder lightly with his tail. “That’s Midnight,” he meowed. “She wouldn’t hurt any cat .” He bounded forward to meet the elderly badger.

  Midnight peered at Stormfur with short-sighted eyes. Then she gave a small nod. “Cat friend from journey,” she rumbled. “Good it is to see you again. And this cat from mountain Tribe, is she not?” she added, gesturing with her snout towards Brook.

  “That’s right,” Stormfur meowed. “This is Brook, a prey-hunter from the Tribe of Rushing Water.” He beckoned Brook forward with his tail; she went over reluctantly, as if she couldn’t quite believe this badger was friendly. Brambleclaw understood her feelings; he knew Midnight as well as any cat, but it was hard not to look at her bulky shape without remembering snapping jaws, fierce gleaming eyes, and claws that shredded cats’ fur like leaves in newleaf . . .

  There was the sound of heavy paws, and he looked up to see Midnight standing beside him. Grief and anger sparked from her berry-bright eyes. “Too late my warning,” she rasped. “Not enough could I do.”