Darkest Night

PROLOGUE

The dying sun bronzed the rock outcrop where a tom sat, his yellow fur aflame as shadows lengthened behind him. It had been a good day. He’d caught enough prey to fill his belly and chased butterflies beside a stream where the water was clear and tasted of the mountains. Below him, there was a cleft in the rocks; high enough to be safe from prying foxes, and facing away from the wind, it would make a good place to spend the night.

He sat down, relishing the cool breeze in his fur. Its chill, which announced the coming of leaf-fall, excited him. Prey would be fattening itself for the long, cold days ahead. He licked his lips, anticipating the richer flavors and softer flesh. He was no longer afraid of the coming cold. His hunting skills improved every season. Only a very cruel leaf-bare would leave him hungry now.

He glanced down, spotting movement in the shadows below. A silver pelt. Familiar? “Who’s there?” Green eyes glinted up at him, and he recognized them at once. “Needletail!” He purred as she climbed the rocks and stopped. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. How are you?”

The she-cat paced around him, her pelt twitching.

The tom could see from her distracted gaze that Needletail was upset. He stood and gazed at her warmly, hoping he could soothe her. “What’s wrong? Sit down and tell me about it.”

She paused and stared at him, sadness in her eyes.

The tom’s pelt prickled as he waited for her to speak.

“It’s too terrible,” she growled. The breeze ruffled her pelt.

The tom slid around her, smoothing her fur with his own. He felt her stiff posture soften. “Nothing can be that bad, surely?”

Needletail’s unease seemed to give way to tiredness, and she slumped into a crouch.

He hunkered down beside her and followed her gaze to the distant horizon. She felt bony beside him; she’d grown thin. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“I’ve been so dumb,” she mewed. “I trusted the wrong cat. Many suffered. I need to make it right.” She turned her gaze to meet the tom’s. “Will you help me?”

“I’ll help you any way I can.” He blinked at her eagerly, then paused. Suddenly, he could see through her glassy stare; shadows were buried in her eyes. Stiffening, he sat up and glanced along her silver pelt. A faint glow shone from within her. It was a glow he’d seen before, but not in Needletail. The fiery sunshine had disguised it, but now, as the shadows deepened into darkness, he could see the glow clearly. It lit her like swallowed moonlight. His heart ached with grief.

“Needletail,” he breathed. “How did you die?”