Thunder and Shadow

by Erin Hunter

  “You can tell me if she’s dead,” she pressed. “I’d rather know than spend my life wondering.”

  “I can’t tell you.” Alderpaw stared at her. “I don’t know.”

  “So the patrol didn’t find her?” Twigpaw demanded.

  Alderpaw looked away. “The patrol wasn’t looking for her,” he mumbled.

  “What?” Twigpaw could hardly believe her ears. What was he talking about? “Squirrelflight led a patrol to search for my mother. That’s what Ivypool told me.”

  Alderpaw shook his head. “That wasn’t who they were searching for.”

  “Not my mother? Then why does Ivypool think that?” Twigpaw stared at him, anger surging in her chest as he looked back at her, not replying. “Did they ever look for her?”

  Alderpaw stared at the ground guiltily. “No.” His mew was barely a whisper.

  “Never?” Heat seared her pelt as she watched Alderpaw struggling for words.

  “They were looking for something else,” he mumbled at last.

  “Why does Ivypool think they were looking for my mother?”

  “The whole Clan believed they were looking for your mother.” Alderpaw was still avoiding her gaze. “They still do.”

  “What were they searching for?” Twigpaw tried to think of something more important than her mother.

  Alderpaw looked at her hopelessly. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Why not?” I thought you told me everything! I trusted you! She curled her claws into the ground.

  “It’s Clan business.”

  Twigpaw’s pelt spiked. “So I’m not to know because I’m not part of the Clan!”

  “Of course you are!” Alderpaw’s gaze rounded guiltily. “That’s not what I meant. Only a few cats know where the patrol went. It’s a secret I can’t share with you.”

  Twigpaw hesitated, unsure whether to be hurt that he was keeping secrets from her or comforted that she wasn’t alone in being lied to. Irritation sparked through her pelt. “Why didn’t Bramblestar send out a patrol to look for my mother?”

  Sadness darkened Alderpaw’s gaze. “He didn’t think there was any point.”

  “Didn’t he care what had happened to her?” Twigpaw’s heart twisted.

  “I’m sure he did. But . . . A mother doesn’t abandon kits who are too young to take care of themselves unless . . .” Alderpaw’s mew trailed away.

  “Unless . . . unless she’s dead?” Twigpaw lashed her tail. “That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?” She tried to push the thought away, but it nagged at her. It would explain why she’d left them. But we can’t be sure. Until they checked, there was still the tiniest, sweetest chance she was still alive. She glared defiantly at Alderpaw. “Maybe something happened to stop her coming back. She might have returned and found us gone. She might be wondering where we went. She might still be looking for us!” She thrust her muzzle close to Alderpaw’s. “If you hadn’t taken us, Violetkit and I might still be with her!”

  Before Alderpaw could answer, Twigpaw pushed her way from the ferns and strode out of camp. She wouldn’t be in this dumb Clan if it weren’t for Alderpaw. She’d be with her sister. And her sister wouldn’t be with a gang of rogues. Burning with rage, she followed the trail that headed toward the ShadowClan border. She hadn’t seen Violetkit since Needlepaw had taken her from ShadowClan. But she was going to see her now. She was going to find her and tell her what she’d discovered.

  Twigpaw had heard the Clan gossip, and words swirled in her thoughts as she pushed past the undergrowth. The rogues live beyond ShadowClan territory, near the border with ThunderClan. She headed that way now. I must speak with Violetkit. She had to tell her that the Clan cats had lied to her. What if our mother came back for us?

  Birds called to one another overhead, warning and serenading, preparing their nests. The sun, glittering through the budding branches, dappled Twigpaw’s back with gentle warmth. She hardly felt it. She veered from the track as she neared the border and shadowed the scent line deeper into the forest, where the ground began to rise. She had never been this far before—even on her first day as an apprentice, when Ivypool had shown her ThunderClan’s territory. She’d felt so proud that day, knowing that this was her land and that one day she’d be patrolling it, keeping it safe for kits and elders.

  Who’s keeping my mother safe? She lifted her chin defiantly and pressed on. The ground grew softer beneath her paws, turning to mud as the trees thinned. She reached the ThunderClan scent line and crossed it, her heart quickening as she set paw outside Clan territory.

  The rogues must be near. She could smell strange scents. Tensing, she scanned the undergrowth. Darktail’s gang seemed more like ghosts than real cats. They never came to Gatherings, and they lived on the outskirts of the territory, occasionally glimpsed in the shadows by patrols. The Clan whispered about them in hushed mews, as though speaking of Dark Forest cats.

  Her pelt pricked with unease as she headed away from the sun, trekking closer to the edge of ShadowClan’s land. Opening her mouth, she tasted the air for scents, smelling the newleaf tang of fresh leaves and mud. The ground turned to grass beneath her paws, sloping steeper. Beech and alder grew here. Rowan bushes crowded between the trunks. She slowed, aware that she could already be on rogue territory, and ducked closer to the bushes.

  A pelt moved ahead, and she stopped, her heart lurching. A tom was carrying prey upslope. Twigpaw froze and watched as he padded between two rows of ferns and disappeared from view.

  “Spying?”

  A mew behind her made her spin. Her heart in her throat, she blinked at the young she-cat who was staring at her accusingly. She sniffed and smelled the unfamiliar scent of rogue.

  “What are you doing here?” the she-cat demanded. The black splotches on her white pelt rippled as her hackles lifted.

  “Violetkit?” Relief surged through Twigpaw. Violetkit looked well. The rogues clearly hadn’t harmed her. Twigpaw stared, hardly able to believe that this sleek young cat was her sister. Muscle showed beneath her pelt. Her paws had grown wide, sharp claw-tips showing beneath the fur. Twigpaw hesitated as Violetkit stared back. Was that suspicion in her gaze? “It’s me, Twigpaw.”

  Violetkit narrowed her eyes. “I’m Violetpaw now.”

  Twigkit blinked at her. Isn’t she pleased to see me? “I came to find you.”

  “Why now?” Violetpaw’s gaze didn’t betray anything.

  “I found something out. All the other cats in ThunderClan were told that they sent out a patrol to look for our mother, but they didn’t. It was a lie. They never checked to see if she came back for us.” The words tumbled from Twigpaw, leaving her breathless.

  Violetpaw shrugged. “Are you really surprised?”

  “But they should have!” Shock pulsed through Twigpaw. What had happened to her littermate? Had her time with the rogues made her cruel? “Alderpaw lied to me. I thought he was my friend. Everyone believed that Bramblestar sent a search party to look for our mother. But he didn’t. Alderpaw said the patrol was looking for something else.” Twigpaw guessed she wasn’t making sense, but she needed her sister to understand how she felt. No one in the Clan did. Violetpaw was the only one who might.

  Violetpaw blinked at her, still showing no sign of emotion.

  Twigkit’s eyes widened. “Don’t you care either?”

  “I always thought our mother was dead.” Violetpaw frowned. Twigpaw could see that she was thinking. “Why else would she leave us?”

  “What if she came back after Alderpaw took us?”

  Violetpaw tipped her head. “She’d have found we were gone.”

  “But she might be looking for us!” Twigpaw willed her sister to feel what she was feeling.

  “After all this time?” Violetpaw looked unconvinced.

  “Don’t you want to find her?” Frustration welled in Twigpaw’s throat.

  The bracken behind Violetpaw swished. “Find who?” Needlepaw padded out.

  Violetpaw jerked her muz
zle round, her pelt pricking guiltily. “Hi, Needletail.”

  Needletail. The ShadowClan apprentice must have given herself a warrior name after leaving her Clan.

  She stopped beside Violetpaw. “Find who?” she repeated, her ears flattening.

  Twigpaw lifted her chin. “Our mother,” she mewed, ignoring the fear rippling through her pelt. Needletail had grown. Her body was long and sleek, her tail thick and glossy. And there was threat in her gaze. “I think she might be alive and searching for us. I want Violetpaw to help me look for her.”

  “Why?” Needletail leaned close, her eyes narrowing. “She has a family here with the rogues.” Her gaze flicked to Violetpaw. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Violetpaw answered quickly. “The rogues are my kin now. They’re way nicer to me than ShadowClan used to be. And Needletail is like a sister.”

  Hurt jabbed Twigpaw’s belly. But I’m your sister! I’ve been worrying about you for moons. Had Violetkit forgotten they were littermates? “So you won’t help me find her?” She felt suddenly weary. Her anger at Alderpaw seemed to drain into the ground.

  Violetpaw stared at Twigpaw, her gaze softening a little. “I can’t just leave my campmates. They’ve fed me and protected me. It would be wrong to leave with you.”

  Needletail’s tail twitched. “Darktail takes loyalty very seriously.” Her mew was a growl.

  Instinctively, Twigpaw backed away.

  Violetpaw blinked at her sister. “I’m sorry, Twigpaw. I can’t help you. You should go home.”

  “Yeah, Clan cat,” Needletail sneered. “Go home where it’s safe.” She glanced upslope, as though watching for rogues.

  Twigpaw’s belly tightened. What if the rogues found her here? Needletail clearly wasn’t going to defend her.

  “Come on, Violetpaw.” Needletail headed into the bracken. “Our campmates will be expecting us”

  “I’m sorry.” Violetpaw blinked at Twigpaw, then held her gaze for a moment before turning away.

  Twigpaw watched the bracken swallow her sister. She stood, frozen, her heart empty. Alderpaw thought her mother was dead. Violetpaw didn’t seem to care if she was alive. She suddenly felt foolish. She’d created such a scene. And no cat was interested.

  She glanced toward the forest. It looked green under the pale blue sky. The sun shone, and she knew that beyond the trees the lake would be glittering.

  Perhaps finding her mother was a dumb idea. Even if she was still alive, she might have new kits by now. What would she care about two kits she’d abandoned moons ago? Wearily Twigpaw turned her paws toward home and padded down the slope.

  CHAPTER 13

  Violetpaw glanced over her shoulder, trying to catch a final glimpse of Twigpaw through the bracken. But the young stems blocked her view. Doubt tugged in her belly. Should I have gone with her? She is my littermate, after all.

  “Hurry up!” Needletail flicked her tail as they broke from the bracken and reached the smooth stretch of grass that led toward camp. “The hunting patrols will be back soon, and I’m hungry.”

  Patrols! Violetpaw huffed quietly to herself. The rogues’ idea of a patrol was nothing like ShadowClan’s. Darktail would suddenly decide prey was needed and send cats to hunt, reminding them as they left to mark the group’s ever-changing borders. There was no sense of the organization and routine she’d been used to in ShadowClan.

  Perhaps they’ll learn eventually. Violetpaw quickened her step. She had hardly recognized her sister. Twigpaw looked so different. And she seemed so ThunderClan. Violetpaw suddenly understood what Needletail, Beenose, and the other former ShadowClan cats meant when they joked about ThunderClan acting as though they were better than every other Clan. Had Twigpaw really expected Violetpaw to abandon her campmates to go on some mouse-brained mission to find their dead mother? Violetpaw’s pelt pricked irritably. Twigpaw only comes to see me when she wants something. She hasn’t tried to find me in the four moons since I left. Hasn’t she been worried about me? She huffed to herself. She thinks her needs are more important than anyone else’s. Besides, what made her think their mother was alive? Of course she’s dead. Why else would she have left them? Twigpaw thinks she’s so smart. Typical ThunderClan, Violetpaw huffed to herself crossly.

  Needletail glanced at her. “What are you growling about?”

  Violetpaw shook out her pelt. “Nothing.” She didn’t want to complain about Twigpaw to Needletail. Twigpaw was annoying, but she was kin. Although Needletail felt more like her kin now. But what about the others? Violetpaw wondered if she would ever feel as close to her other campmates as she did to Needletail. Raven wasn’t as kind as she had been before Violetpaw had joined the group. None of the rogues were. And the ShadowClan cats who had joined them had as little patience for her now as they’d had when she’d lived with them in ShadowClan.

  But I have Needletail, Violetpaw comforted herself. She’s all I need.

  Paw steps thrummed the ground. Violetpaw followed Needletail’s gaze as her mentor looked toward the camp. Rain and Sleekwhisker bounded toward them, each carrying a mouse. They skidded to a halt beside Needletail and Violetpaw.

  “You’re running!” Needletail blinked at them in surprise. “Is a fox chasing you?”

  Sleekwhisker dropped her mouse. “Why shouldn’t we run? We were worried our campmates might be hungry.” She flashed Rain an amused look. “Weren’t we?”

  Rain purred. “Sure.”

  Needletail scowled jealously at Sleekwhisker and pushed between the two cats.

  Violetpaw didn’t believe either of them. She could see flattened fur on Sleekwhisker’s flank where she had been lying down. More than once, Violetpaw and Needletail had caught Sleekwhisker dozing in the newleaf sunshine. Rain too. Neither of them seemed to think hunting was very important these days.

  Needletail glanced at the mice, clearly unimpressed. “That’s not going to feed us all. Let’s hope Cloverfoot and Roach got a better catch. I’m starving.”

  Sleekwhisker whisked her tail crossly. “What did you catch?”

  “We weren’t supposed to be hunting.” Needletail lifted her chin. “I was teaching Violetpaw some new fighting moves.”

  Sleekwhisker stared witheringly at Violetpaw. “I don’t know why you bother training her. We don’t live in a Clan anymore. Let her learn to fight and hunt the way rogues learn—by experience. Or isn’t she smart enough?”

  Needletail showed her teeth. “Violetpaw is going to be a warrior, not a rogue.”

  Rain stiffened. “Are you thinking of going back to ShadowClan?”

  “Of course not!” Needletail snorted. “But warriors fight better than rogues.”

  Rain’s whiskers twitched. “Tell that to Onestar.”

  Needletail tipped her head. “But he wasn’t fighting just any rogue.” Her mew softened flirtatiously. “He was fighting you.”

  Rain’s eyes sparkled. “So you think I fight like a warrior?” He padded around Needletail, brushing against her.

  “Better,” Needletail answered, purring.

  Sleekwhisker rolled her eyes. “Can you two stop acting like a pair of mouse-brains? I want to get this prey back to camp before it gets stiff.”

  Violetpaw’s ears twitched. You want to get it back before Cloverfoot’s patrol so you can hide it at the bottom of the fresh-kill pile. It was a meager catch, even for Sleekwhisker and Rain. Darktail had begun to notice and complain. At least Silt and Beenose wouldn’t want to eat. They were sick with some illness that had stolen their appetite.

  She saw Rain catch Needletail’s eye. “Perhaps we should go hunting tomorrow,” he mewed silkily. “Just the two of us.”

  Violetpaw frowned crossly. She wasn’t going to make it easy for Rain to steal her friend. “Needletail promised to show me how to stalk rabbits tomorrow.”

  Needletail dragged her gaze from Rain’s. “She’s right.” Was that regret in her mew?

  Sleekwhisker picked up her mouse and headed for the camp. Rain grabbed his mouse and fo
llowed, glancing over his shoulder at Needletail. Violetpaw hurried ahead of her mentor to block his view.

  As they padded into camp, Cloverfoot turned her head. The gray tabby was standing beside a plump rabbit and a thrush.

  “You’re back.” Sleekwhisker sounded surprised as she dropped her mouse onto the fresh-kill pile.

  Cloverfoot sniffed. “Of course. Catching this didn’t take long.”

  Juniperclaw was washing leaf litter from his pelt. He looked up. “Prey is running well.”

  “We’ve been back for ages.” Roach yawned. The silver tom was lounging nearby.

  Rain dropped his mouse beside Sleekwhisker’s. “How are Silt and Beenose?” He glanced toward the drooping rowan bush where the sick cats were sheltering.

  The branches trembled and Nettle nosed his way out, looking worried. He answered Rain’s question. “They’re worse. Beenose keeps coughing, and Silt’s fever is rising.”

  Nettle was the closest the rogues had to a medicine cat. But the brown tabby only knew a few herbs. He’d tried them all on the sick cats, but nothing had made them better.

  Rain shrugged. “Oh, well.” He sniffed the rabbit hungrily. “More prey for us.”

  “Wait!” A sharp growl sounded outside camp.

  Violetpaw tensed as she recognized Darktail’s mew.

  The rogue leader padded from the long grass edging the camp. His menacing gaze fixed on Rain. “You’re getting nothing from the fresh-kill pile today.”

  Rain’s hackles lifted. “No cat tells me I can’t eat.”

  “You want to eat?” Darktail padded slowly toward him. “Go catch something worth eating.” He stopped beside the fresh-kill pile and hooked up a mouse with his claw. “This is kit food.”

  Violetpaw glanced nervously at Needletail. There was a threat in Darktail’s mew, and Rain was eyeing him challengingly. The gray tom had been standing up to the rogue leader more and more often. Yesterday he’d refused to go on patrol. “Are they going to fight?” she whispered.

  “Hush.” Needletail didn’t look at Violetpaw. Her gaze was on Rain. Her eyes sparkled eagerly as the long-furred tom stepped closer to Darktail.