Spottedpaw opened her eyes and saw greasy gray trunks looming around her, lit by a pale, unnatural glow. It worked! I dreamed myself into the Place of No Stars! With her heart pounding, Spottedpaw trotted along the narrow path between the dying bracken. This forest looked the same everywhere, so she couldn’t tell if she had returned to the place she had been before.

She peered into the undergrowth. She had to find Thistleclaw and tell him that she had made the decision to be a warrior, not a medicine cat. And she wanted to give him one more chance to prove to her that he was learning valuable battle skills here, nothing more…

Something black and slippery swooped overhead, and Spottedpaw ducked. She craned her neck to see where the flying thing went but it vanished into the shadowy branches. She padded on, her pelt crawling as rotten ferns clutched at her fur. Suddenly she heard crashing and a muffled screech, followed by a sickening thud.

She crept through the trees to the edge of a steep-sided hollow. Below her, Mapleshade watched a group of cats grappling with each other. Blood spattered the sandy ground, and Mapleshade’s eyes gleamed like pale stars. Spottedpaw winced as she recognized Thistleclaw’s lean gray shape wrestling with a fox-colored she-cat whose ears were shredded to tattered stumps. White hairs on her muzzle suggested that she was older than the others, and her paws seemed to lose their grip too frequently on the slippery ground.

Spottedpaw waited for Thistleclaw to flip the she-cat onto her back and claim his victory, but he seemed to be playing with her as if she were a wounded bird, letting her scramble back to her paws after every blow. In horror, Spottedpaw realized that the she-cat wasn’t fox-red at all, but a light brown tabby stained scarlet with blood. There was a deep wound on her flank and teeth marks along her spine. Spottedpaw sank her claws into the earth. Had Thistleclaw made those wounds?

For a moment the she-cat flickered against the ground, and Spottedpaw glimpsed sand and pools of blood through her fur. She blinked. Thistleclaw had one foot on the she-cat’s neck now, pressing her down to the sand. The old cat’s hind paws scrabbled to find a grip, but she was too weak. She started to sink to her belly.

Spottedpaw threw herself down the side of the hollow. “Stop, Thistleclaw! You’re killing her!”

Thistleclaw looked up at her, blood dripping from his muzzle. “Get away from here!” he snarled.

Around him, the other cats stopped fighting and bristled, bloodstained and claw-scratched fur rising along their spines. Spottedpaw ignored them and threw herself at Thistleclaw, knocking him backward. She sprang to the side of the old cat and desperately pressed her paws against the wound on her flank, where blood was pulsing out relentlessly.

But it was getting harder to see the she-cat; her fur was fading against the bloodstained sand, and her body felt like mist beneath Spottedpaw’s pads. Then she was pressing against nothing but the cold wet ground, and the old cat had vanished.

Spottedpaw stared at Thistleclaw in horror. “Where has she gone? What happened?”

There was a heavy thud of paw steps across the hollow and Mapleshade loomed above her, clouded in the stench of blood and crow-food. “This whiny little apprentice again, Thistleclaw?” she hissed. “Get rid of her, before I do.” She turned and stalked toward the other cats, gathering them to her with a flick of her heavy white tail.

Spottedpaw was too furious to feel afraid. She stood up and faced her Clanmate, ignoring the stickiness beneath her paws. “I came to tell you that Thrushpelt asked me if I wanted to train as a medicine cat, and I said no!” she meowed. “How could I, if that meant losing you? But this place… this has done something terrible to you. You are not just training to be a loyal ThunderClan warrior. You’re murdering helpless cats!”

“That cat wasn’t helpless!” Thistleclaw spat. “She fought as hard as I did!”

“No, she didn’t,” Spottedpaw mewed. “She died.” She looked around. “At least… she bled so much that she vanished. I cannot be with you if this is where you spend every night—if this is what you do here. If you truly love me, promise you will never come here again.”

There was a flash of pain in Thistleclaw’s eyes and Spottedpaw felt her heart leap with hope. Then he lifted his head. “This is my destiny, Spottedpaw. I am going to be the greatest warrior ThunderClan has ever known. I will be the next deputy, and the next leader of our Clan. Every cat in the forest will fear us! There will be no battle we cannot win! How can I possibly give that up?”

Spottedpaw felt a crack open up in her heart. “Being a warrior is not about destroying our rivals,” she whispered. “It is about making our Clan strong and safe alongside the other cats in the forest. Please, Thistleclaw. I will give you everything.”

Thistleclaw turned away from her so she couldn’t see his face. “You don’t get it, Spottedpaw,” he meowed. “I can’t turn away from my destiny. Nothing is more important than this. The rip of flesh beneath my claws, the taste of blood, the scent of my enemy’s fear… I am hungry for all of it, and I will keep fighting until ThunderClan rules the entire forest!”

“Then you have made your choice,” Spottedpaw told him, feeling as if she were falling into a deep, deep hole.

“There is no choice to make,” Thistleclaw growled. “I have dedicated my whole life to becoming the greatest warrior ThunderClan has ever known. And if you won’t help me, there is no place for you in my life.”

“But what about the things you said to me before? What about love?”

“Love doesn’t win battles!” Thistleclaw spat.

“You’re wrong,” Spottedpaw mewed quietly. “Love is stronger than everything.” She turned and looked back over her shoulder. “Good-bye, Thistleclaw. May StarClan light your path, always.” Wherever your path leads, she added silently.

As she padded out of the hollow, the forest faded around her and she was lying in her own nest, her fur smelling of the old she-cat’s blood. There was a pain in her heart sharper than the bite of fox teeth. I have loved foolishly, and my heart has been blind.

She pictured going to Sunstar and Tawnyspots and telling them about Thistleclaw’s visits to the Dark Forest. Would they even believe her? And what could they do? No cat could guard another in his sleep. There was no way to stop Thistleclaw from pursuing his murderous path; but there was something Spottedpaw could do to help her Clanmates.

The other nests in the den were empty and Spottedpaw guessed her denmates were on the dawn patrol. She pushed her way out through the brambles and almost collided with Stormtail, who was being propped up by Bluefur.

“I’m taking him to the dirtplace,” Bluefur explained.

Stormtail focused his gaze on Spottedpaw. “Thank you,” he rasped. “Featherwhisker says I would have died if you hadn’t found me.”

Spottedpaw dipped her head.

Stormtail shifted his weight from Bluefur’s shoulder. “I’m not so feeble that my own daughter has to watch me make dirt,” he grunted. He limped away.

Bluefur looked at Spottedpaw. “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday,” she meowed. “I should have seen that Stormtail was sick.”

Spottedpaw twitched her ears. “I made a lucky guess,” she mewed with a shrug.

“No, you didn’t. You’re very smart, Spottedpaw. You always see so much.”

Too much, thought Spottedpaw, picturing the old cat fading away in the Dark Forest.

Bluefur stared at the bushes that shielded the dirtplace. The leaves were still trembling from where Stormtail had pushed through. “I’ve lost my mother and my sister,” she whispered. “I couldn’t bear to lose my father as well.”

There was so much sadness in her voice that Spottedpaw wanted to press her cheek against Bluefur’s muzzle and promise she would never leave her. Instead, she meowed, “You are a ThunderClan warrior. You will never be alone.”

Bluefur nodded. “You’re right. Thank you, Spottedpaw. Take care of yourself. There are difficult times ahead for us, I can feel it.”

Spottedpaw opened her mouth to ask what Bluefur meant. But Stormtail was emerging from the bushes and Bluefur trotted to meet him, her tail kinked high over her back. Spottedpaw watched the gray she-cat, wondering if her dreams were also filled with the sounds of screeching, clawing cats.

If Thistleclaw achieved his ambition to become Clan leader, so many blood-soaked battles lay ahead. There would be so many injures, so many lives lost. For what? A moment of victory, until the next time warrior was pitched against warrior?

These were not the kind of battles Spottedpaw had trained to fight. Her destiny lay on a different path.

She marched through the ferns to Featherwhisker’s den. The medicine cat was at the mouth of the cleft in the rock, laying out some herbs to dry in the sun. He pricked his ears when he saw Spottedpaw.

“Can I help you?” he mewed.

“Yes,” she replied. “I want to become your apprentice.”