by Erin Hunter
“No cat has lied to any cat!” Squirrelflight retorted, stung. “But Firestar saw no reason to spread the story around, and neither did Bramblestar—until now.”
Onestar let out a snort of disgust. “So what has changed?”
For answer, Bramblestar gestured with his tail for Alderheart to step forward. Alderheart’s belly roiled with nerves as he faced the WindClan leader’s hostile stare, but he managed to keep his voice steady as he explained about his visions.
“I’m sure that the prophecy is StarClan’s way of telling us that we need to help SkyClan,” he finished.
Onestar’s lips curled back in the beginning of a snarl, and he gave a furious lash of his tail. “So you want my support to help some strange Clan that only ThunderClan has ever heard of?” he rasped. “Are you planning to bring them here and give them WindClan territory? You won’t get the chance!”
Angry growls came from some of the listening WindClan warriors. Alderheart saw Lionblaze and Dovewing slide out their claws, and he knew that they were bracing themselves in case Onestar gave the order to attack the visitors.
“We don’t intend that at all,” Bramblestar responded, still managing to stay calm. “Alderheart, tell Onestar about your quest.”
Still uneasy, Alderheart began the story of how he and his Clanmates had made the long journey to the gorge where SkyClan had their camp, only to find that they had been driven out by rogues.
“They were the same rogues who attacked you here in WindClan,” he explained. “The same who have taken over ShadowClan territory.”
As he spoke, Alderheart saw the anger in Onestar’s eyes be overtaken by shock and horror. For a heartbeat, the WindClan leader seemed too frozen even to speak. “So Darktail was to blame for SkyClan being driven from the gorge?” he asked eventually. “And nearly destroyed?”
Alderheart nodded.
Onestar was silent for a few heartbeats more. Then rage seemed to fill him up and spill over like water from an upturned leaf in pelting rain. “WindClan owes SkyClan nothing!” he screeched. “And you ThunderClan cats need to get out! Go on—get off my territory! WindClan’s borders are closed!”
Alderheart exchanged a stunned look with Bramblestar and the rest of the patrol. What’s all that about? he asked himself. What’s making Onestar so furious?
Though Bramblestar tried to protest, Onestar refused to listen. His warriors gathered around the ThunderClan leader and his patrol, herding them back up the side of the hollow and onto the moor.
“I’ll escort you to the border,” Gorsetail meowed, beckoning a few more cats to join her with a whisk of her tail.
The ThunderClan cats headed downhill in silence; clearly there would be no point in trying to talk to the WindClan warriors. As he padded along beside his leader, Alderheart couldn’t forget the horrified look on Onestar’s face.
I thought so before, but now I’m sure of it, he told himself. Onestar is hiding something!
CHAPTER 3
Violetpaw grimaced at the reek of mouse bile as she dabbed the scrap of soaked moss on one of Oakfur’s ticks. The ShadowClan elder let out a sigh of relief as the tick dropped off.
“That’s better, youngster,” he meowed. “I only wish we could put everything right in ShadowClan as easily as we deal with these pesky ticks. Nothing is the same as it used to be. With Rowanstar gone, no cat treats elders with respect.”
“Darktail says we’re not ShadowClan anymore,” Violetpaw responded grimly. “He says we’re Kin now.”
“I’ll be ShadowClan until I die,” Oakfur declared with an angry twitch of his ears; alarmed, Violetpaw glanced around to make sure that none of the rogues were listening. “Loyalty is important; that’s what some of you young cats don’t understand.”
“That’s true,” Ratscar agreed. He paused for a moment, scratching furiously behind one ear with his hind paw, then added, “Cats aren’t what they were in our day. These kits Snowbird just delivered—I wonder what sort of world they’ll grow up in.”
Violetpaw flinched. Perhaps she should be worrying about the tiny kits Puddleshine had helped deliver, but instead, she couldn’t help remembering the battle and the look in Twigpaw’s eyes when Violetpaw had attacked her. I hurt my own sister! she thought, sure that she would never shake off the guilt. Would I actually have struck her while she was injured? She couldn’t answer that question, and felt wretched. Oakfur must be right: young cats like me don’t understand loyalty.
There was a flurry of paw steps, and the bramble tendrils that overhung the elders’ den waved wildly as Needletail barged inside.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” she meowed to Violetpaw, ignoring the two old toms. “Why are you messing around with that gross mouse bile and ticks? You should come with me and have something to eat.”
“Dawnpelt told me to come and help the elders,” Violetpaw explained, dropping the twig with the bile-soaked moss.
Needletail flicked her tail dismissively. “Dawnpelt isn’t the boss of you anymore,” she pointed out. “Darktail and Rain are right—the elders need to start looking after themselves. We don’t have room for cats who don’t contribute.”
Ratscar fixed her with a glare. “There was a time ShadowClan didn’t have room for rude little flea-pelts,” he rasped.
“I’m not the one who has fleas,” Needletail sneered. “Are you coming, Violetpaw?”
Violetpaw cast a guilty look at the elders. “Okay,” she mewed.
“Hey, you haven’t finished!” Oakfur protested. “There’s a huge tick right down my back next to my tail. I can feel it!”
Violetpaw would rather have stayed to help, but Needletail was waiting for her, her tail-tip giving impatient twitches.
“Sorry,” Violetpaw whispered, and followed her friend out into the camp.
Needletail led the way to the fresh-kill pile, where Thistle, a muscular gray rogue, was sniffing around the edge, taking his time to choose. Needletail picked out a blackbird for herself. Violetpaw spotted a plump vole and whisked it away; her jaws watered as she crouched beside Needletail to eat it.
But before she had taken more than a mouthful, Thistle bounded toward them. Violetpaw eyed him warily. She didn’t know him very well, as he and some other rogues had only recently arrived. She couldn’t help wondering how many more cats Darktail would welcome into camp as “Kin.”
Where will it all end?
Thistle padded up and halted beside Violetpaw, his cold blue eyes fixed on her succulent piece of prey. “That was mine,” he snarled, obviously expecting Violetpaw to step back and let him take it. “I saw it first.” He took a pace forward, looming over Violetpaw.
Violetpaw would have given him the vole to avoid a fight, but before she could move, Needletail broke in.
“Hey, back off, mange-fur!” she challenged Thistle, baring her teeth and letting out a furious hiss. “Prey is not yours until you take it.”
“Okay, okay,” Thistle meowed. “Keep your fur on.” With a furious glare he headed back to the fresh-kill pile and started pawing over the prey again.
“Thanks, Needletail,” Violetpaw murmured. “I wish there weren’t so many rogues in camp these days. Some of them look kind of scary.”
“Huh!” Needletail snorted around a mouthful of blackbird. “They’re all meow and no claws, if you ask me. But you don’t need to worry, Violetpaw. I’ll look out for you.” She tore off another mouthful, swallowed, and then added more thoughtfully, “Mind you, Rain is suspicious of some of these new rogues, just like you.”
Violetpaw wasn’t sure what to make of that. I know Needletail likes Rain, but I’m not sure I trust him, either. He challenged Darktail and got blinded for his trouble. I’m still not sure whether he’s supporting Darktail now. Is he still questioning him?
She gulped down her vole, casting sidelong glances at Needletail as she did so.
“Have you got something on your mind?” Needletail asked. “Spit it out!”
Violetpaw hesitat
ed for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I can’t stop thinking about hurting Twigpaw,” she confided shyly. “I feel so bad about it. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but she was trying to get away from me and she hurt her leg. What if . . .” Under Needletail’s intent gaze she found words for her greatest fear. “What if I’ve crippled my sister?”
Needletail touched her nose reassuringly to Violetpaw’s ear. “No cat ever got crippled from a little fall like that,” she stated. “Twigpaw will be fine. You had to fight her, Violetpaw. ThunderClan and the other cats attacked us, didn’t they? The Clan cats are our enemies now. And that includes Twigpaw.”
Violetpaw listened, knowing that what her friend was saying made sense, but still unable to shake off her feeling that something was terribly wrong. How can my sister be my enemy?
“You did what you had to do,” Needletail went on. “And now you need to forget about Twigpaw. We’re your kin now—me and the rest of the cats here. We’re the ones who care about you.”
Violetpaw couldn’t find words to protest. But whatever Needletail says, I can’t forget my sister!
“I’m going to take a mouse to Puddleshine,” Violetpaw announced when she had finished her prey. “He’s working so hard, looking after the injured warriors, and I’m sure he’s not taking time to eat.”
“Good idea,” Needletail meowed. “I’ll come with you. I want to see how Darktail’s doing.”
Violetpaw tidied up the fresh-kill pile, which Thistle had left scattered, and found a juicy-looking mouse for Puddleshine. Needletail padded beside her as she carried it to the medicine-cat den.
Puddleshine’s den lay in the farthest corner of the camp, where the bushes and bramble tendrils didn’t cluster so thickly. But there was a sheltered space under a slanting rock, the ground thickly covered with moss and bracken, where Puddleshine and any injured cats could sleep.
When Violetpaw and Needletail entered by a tunnel through the brambles, the only cat there apart from Puddleshine was Darktail. He lay stretched out on the bedding, his chest heaving with each breath. Violetpaw had heard how badly Onestar had injured him in the battle; now she could see the pain in his slitted eyes. Needletail padded over and sat beside him; he could barely raise his head to see which cats had come to visit him.
“Puddleshine, I brought you this,” Violetpaw mewed as she set the mouse down in front of the medicine cat.
Puddleshine fixed the mouse with a hungry gaze. “Thank you, Violetpaw! I’m starving—my belly thinks my throat’s been clawed out!” He crouched and began to gulp down the mouse with ravenous bites.
“Violetpaw,” he mumbled a moment later, around a mouthful of prey, “could you chew up some of that coltsfoot for me? It should help Darktail with his breathing.” He pointed with one paw to a small heap of coltsfoot flowers at the foot of the rock.
“Sure.” Violetpaw padded over to the coltsfoot and began chewing some of the flowers into a pulp; they had a sharp, quite pleasant taste.
“That’s fine.” Puddleshine joined her a moment later, swiping his tongue around his jaws as he swallowed the last bite of mouse. “Now let’s give it to Darktail.”
The rogue leader managed to raise himself and lick up the pulp, then sank back into his bedding with a grunt. “That mange-pelt Onestar really hurt me,” he growled. “He was a far fiercer fighter than I expected from our last battle.”
He took a few deep breaths, seeming to find it easier after the coltsfoot, and turned his head to give Violetpaw a long stare. Her pads prickled with apprehension. What does Darktail think about me now?
“You fought well in the battle,” the rogue leader mewed at last. “You’re a credit to the Kin here.”
Relief that he wasn’t angry flooded over Violetpaw. Her pelt warmed at her leader’s praise, even though she felt that she didn’t deserve it.
“Violetpaw’s worried about wounding her littermate,” Needletail put in.
Violetpaw’s nervousness returned, an even sharper prickling. She wished Needletail hadn’t mentioned that. What if Darktail gets angry now?
But Darktail gave her an understanding nod. “I know it must have been hard to choose between your littermate and your new Kin,” he told Violetpaw. “I’m proud of you for making the right choice.”
Violetpaw dipped her head, flattered. Maybe Darktail’s not so scary after all. She felt her guilt over Twigpaw ease a little. Twigpaw and I were born together, but these cats have chosen me to be their Kin. Maybe Darktail and Needletail are right: I chose to fight for the cats who are important to me.
A rustling sound came from the tunnel through the brambles, and Rain pushed his way into the den. Violetpaw noticed that his injured eye was almost healed. “Greetings, Darktail,” the gray tom mewed, with a nod to his leader. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Darktail replied. “I’m glad you came; there are some things I need to discuss with you. What did you think about the way Grassheart fought in the battle?”
Rain shrugged. “Well, I’ve seen fiercer cats,” he responded.
Darktail’s tone sharpened. “Do you think she’s a traitor?”
Rain hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I think she could just do with a bit of extra training. Now, Dawnpelt . . . there’s a cat who needs watching.”
“You think so?”
Violetpaw’s pelt itched uncomfortably, as if ants were crawling through it, as she listened to the two rogues discussing her Clanmates. Do they ever talk about me like that? she wondered.
While Darktail and Rain were conferring, Needletail crept out of the den, but Violetpaw lingered a little longer, easing herself back into the shadows. Though she didn’t like what she was overhearing, she was pleased to see how well the two cats were getting along.
It hasn’t been that long since Rain challenged Darktail for the leadership and Darktail half blinded him, she reflected. She felt warmed and comforted at the thought that the larger group of cats—the ones Darktail had started to call their Kin—was more important to them than their rivalry.
Darktail’s comments and replies to Rain grew shorter as the wounded leader grew tired, and eventually he settled down to sleep.
“I ought to go and check on some of the other injured cats,” Puddleshine meowed when he was settled, “but I don’t want to leave Darktail alone.” He was turning to Violetpaw, as if he was about to ask her to stay, and Violetpaw would have been happy to offer, but Rain forestalled them before either of them could speak.
“Don’t worry, Puddleshine. I’ll stay until you come back.”
“Thanks, Rain.” Puddleshine gathered a few herbs and went out.
Violetpaw followed him and wandered around the camp for a while, wondering if she ought to go back and finish off the elders’ ticks. But she knew she would only get another lecture about how worthless the young cats of today were, compared with Oakfur and Ratscar when they were young.
Finally she decided to find a good piece of prey and take it to Darktail for when he woke up. He’s pretty badly hurt, and he was really kind to me about how I fought in the battle. He ought to eat well so he can build up his strength while he’s recovering.
Violetpaw headed for the fresh-kill pile and took her time picking out a plump shrew. She spotted Puddleshine on the far side of the camp, making Scorchfur stretch out his leg to show how his injured shoulder was healing. Carrying the prey in her jaws, she headed back to the medicine-cat den.
But when she emerged from the bramble tunnel, she halted in shock, letting the shrew drop from her gaping jaws. Rain was lying on top of Darktail, his paws over the rogue leader’s nose and mouth. Darktail was struggling feebly and making a terrible choking noise.
Violetpaw stifled a gasp of horror, realizing that Rain was trying to cut off Darktail’s air and kill him. Rain hasn’t forgiven Darktail at all!
Frozen by the sight in front of her, all Violetpaw could do was watch as Darktail’s struggles grew slower. When the big tom was finally still, bloo
d staining the fur around his nose and mouth, Rain rose to his paws, turned, and spotted Violetpaw. His green eyes narrowed, and he began to stride slowly toward her.
Violetpaw had never been so frightened in her life. Her heart thrummed in her chest and she could barely breathe. I wasn’t supposed to see that, she thought, terror turning her muscles to stone so that she couldn’t even flee. Now he will kill me, too!
Before Rain could reach her, he was attacked by a flash of white.
Darktail was not dead.
Violetpaw flattened herself to the ground as the rogue leader reared up over Rain. She didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away as Darktail hurled himself forward and drew his claws across Rain’s throat with a single powerful slash.
Rain staggered, his mouth opening and blood spilling over the fur on his chest. The stench of it filled the medicine-cat den. Then Rain’s legs gave way and he dropped at Darktail’s paws. Choking back a screech of terror, Violetpaw flinched away to avoid the sticky stream of blood that flowed from his throat.
Darktail looked down at the long-furred gray tom’s spasmodically jerking body, then raised his head to meet Violetpaw’s horrified gaze. His voice was rough and hoarse as he spoke.
“I always knew that Rain would betray me.”
CHAPTER 4
Alderheart passed his paws carefully down Twigpaw’s leg, feeling the muscles and bone beneath. The young she-cat didn’t react at all, just stared dully at nothing.
“How is she doing?” Leafpool asked, looking up from where she was helping Briarlight with her stretching exercises.
“Much better,” Alderheart replied. “Her leg was only badly wrenched, after all, not broken. Did I hurt you just then?” he asked Twigpaw, who just shook her head in answer.
“That’s great!” Briarlight meowed cheerfully. “But I’ll miss you, Twigpaw, when you go back to the apprentices’ den.”