Free Mistystar's Omen by Erin Hunter

trust me to do anything?”
    Mistystar felt her tail droop. “I don’t think I do,” she murmured. “Everything’s going wrong, the Clan is still hungry, and I need StarClan to know that they can send us signs at any time.”
    â€œWillowshine will tell you if she sees a sign.”
    â€œWill she really? Or is her loyalty to you too strong?” Mistystar suddenly felt very tired. “Please accept that you can no longer be a medicine cat, Mothwing. Before StarClan gives up on us completely.”
    Mothwing curled her tail over her back and padded out of the den. “Just because I don’t believe in StarClan, Mistystar, you don’t have to give up your faith in them,” she whispered on her way past.
    As Mistystar followed Mothwing away from the rocks, she heard a small commotion beside the fresh-kill pile. Mossypaw was bickering with Troutpaw over who should have the last piece of squirrel. At least they’re getting a taste for land prey, Mistystar thought. She didn’t have the energy to sort out the apprentices’ quarrel, so she headed for the entrance and pushed her way into the middle of the territory, where the bushes grew most densely. It was quiet and sheltered under here, and she found a patch of dry leaves to lie down on.
    She listened to the leaves on the holly tree rattling in the breeze, and watched a few late elderflower petals drift down in front of her. Something stirred in her mind. Hadn’t Rushpaw described a place under an elderflower bush next to a holly tree where he and Hollowpaw had practiced their battle techniques? Mistystar looked around. Holly trees weren’t common in their territory, and she was pretty sure there wasn’t another one so close to an elder bush. But the ground was smooth and the layer of fallen leaves undisturbed; there had been no fighting here for a long while. Had Rushpaw lied?
    Mistystar shrugged. She’d question where the apprentices were again later. Whatever they were up to, it could wait. She closed her eyes and pictured her Clanmates roaming across the marsh and up the stream in search of food. Was Beetlewhisker right? Were the trout really coming back to the lake? And if so, would her warriors be able to resist catching them until the water was fully stocked?
    Mistystar felt warm breath on her ear, and a familiar, heartbreaking scent wreathed around her. “There are more sources of prey than the lake,” whispered a voice. Mistystar whirled around, peering into the shadows.
    â€œStonefur? Are you there?”
    There was nothing but silence. But Stonefur had visited her! StarClan was still watching them. We are going to survive! Mistystar thought joyously.
    Suddenly the branches crashed and Reedwhisker burst through the bushes. “Mistystar! Come quickly! Hollowpaw and Rushpaw are in trouble!”
    Mistystar leaped up. “Where are they?”
    Reedwhisker skidded to a halt, his expression grim. “By the Twoleg dens.”
    Mistystar didn’t ask for an explanation. She just followed her deputy at a sprint through the bushes, down to the stream, and along the muddy bank that led out of their territory. What in the name of StarClan are Hollowpaw and Rushpaw doing there? They weren’t part of Reedwhisker’s patrol.
    Reedwhisker clawed his way to the top of the bank with Mistystar close behind him, and the two cats stood panting on the vast stretch of grass. Reedwhisker pointed with his tail. “Mallownose, Graymist, and Robinwing are by the boundary; can you see?”
    Mistystar narrowed her eyes against the wind. She could just make out the pale-furred shapes of her Clanmates crouching by the long wall of stones that marked the edge of the field. “Where are the apprentices?”
    â€œOn the other side of the wall, by the Twoleg den. They’re trapped in a corner by a pair of dogs.” Reedwhisker glanced at Mistystar. “It looks pretty