Darkest Night

CHAPTER 9

Violetpaw’s legs still ached from yesterday as she padded beside Hawkwing. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the sky showed pink beyond the distant forest. They had been starting early like this for days. Hawkwing and Blossomheart had grown more and more excited as they neared their destination. They had told stories of a “farm cat” named Barley, and of their mother, Cherrytail, and Cloudmist, their sister. Violetpaw had felt warm from her nose to her tail-tip at the news that she had yet more kin. She felt as though she knew them already. She hadn’t realized how much Hawkwing had missed his mother and sister until she’d heard the throb in his purr as he talked about growing up with them in the gorge. But she was nervous about meeting them. She’d known Twigpaw her whole life, and even their relationship hadn’t always been easy. She’d always felt closer to Needletail than any cat. What if Cloudmist and Cherrytail didn’t like her? Would she feel as attached to them as she had been to Needletail? Her thoughts flitted back to Needletail often, and she’d been sleeping badly, waking at the smallest gust of wind or rustle in the undergrowth, hoping for another dream about her friend, wondering if Needletail’s spirit had returned again.

Hawkwing seemed to have sensed her distraction over the past few days and, though he hadn’t pressed her, she could tell he was worried about her. He always seemed to have one eye on her and one eye on the path ahead. She wished she could confide in him about the guilt that twisted her heart every time she remembered her friend. But how could she tell him that she’d left Needletail to be killed by Darktail? He might never look at her the same way again.

“It’s not far.” He spoke to her now, nodding to the meadows, which stretched toward the rosy dawn sky. They’d spent the night sheltering in the square mouth of a cave cut deep into a wide cliff, and they’d woken early. Stars still showed as they’d scrambled down the steep slope and crossed the stretch of stone to where rough grass softened into pasture.

Molewhisker had wanted to follow the sun to where it rose, but Hawkwing had recognized the distant moorland and remembered a route that would take them to the last place he’d seen his mother and sister. As the stars began to fade, they crossed a deserted Thunderpath and climbed past swaths of gorse. Now fields stretched ahead of them as the sun lifted above the treetops.

Molewhisker and Blossomheart competed for the lead as they followed the edge of another meadow. Rabbitleap padded behind them, his pelt still ruffled from sleep.

Violetpaw shivered. Each day, the wind had grown colder and she had grown more tired. She longed to rest in a sheltered clearing where sunlight fell in warm pools. Wearily, she stared at her paws.

Hawkwing brushed against her. “We’re nearly there. Look.”

She lifted her head and gazed at the stubbly field beyond a fence. Molewhisker, Blossomheart, and Rabbitleap were already crossing it. Short, dirty yellow stalks poked out of the brown earth in rows, like prickles on a hedgehog. Shattered stems littered the ground between.

“Last time I was here, the stalks were green and tall.” Hawkwing squeezed beneath the fence.

Violetpaw wriggled after him. “I wonder what ate them?” She glanced around nervously. Any creature that could bite through such thick stalks must be huge.

Hawking hurried after the others. “Whatever it was is gone now.”

Violetpaw saw white shapes moving in the next field. As big as bushes, they floated like small clouds over the ground. Were they dangerous? She wondered warily if they had eaten the stalks. As she padded closer, she could hear grass tearing as they grazed. They stared ahead, chewing blankly, clearly unaware that their thick coats were filthy and matted.

“What are they?” she breathed, her nose wrinkling at their musky smell.

“Sheep.” Hawkwing glanced at her. “They won’t hurt you.”

“Don’t they ever wash?” Muddy lumps hung from their pelts. She didn’t want to go any closer. Such strange, stinky creatures would have amused Needletail. She wouldn’t have worried about approaching them. She’d have run right up to one and poked its thick, curly pelt just to see what it felt like.

As they skirted the sheep field, Molewhisker paused and looked back toward Hawkwing. For the first time, the ThunderClan tom looked unsure of himself. “Where do we go now?”

Hawkwing trotted past him, his tail high. He opened his mouth as though savoring familiar scents. “We head for Barley’s barn.” He nodded toward the large Twoleg nest looming beyond the sheep field.

“Is it safe?” Violetpaw’s pelt prickled with anxiety.

Hawkwing pointed his muzzle to a smaller Twoleg nest farther away. “The Twolegs live over there. This is where Barley lives. It’s safe here.”

He quickened his pace, crossing a wide, dirt path onto a stretch of stone that led to the barn. Violetpaw saw Molewhisker glance doubtfully at Blossomheart.

“You’ll like Barley,” Blossomheart promised him.

As she spoke, a happy yowl echoed over the stone. “Hawkwing? Is that you?” A black-and-white tom was staring at Hawkwing.

Hawkwing broke into a run. “Barley!” He moved toward the tom, purring loudly. Violetpaw followed Blossomheart and Hawkwing to meet Barley, feeling suddenly nervous.

Barley broke away from Hawkwing and wove around Blossomheart. “It’s good to see you again.” He stopped and stared at Violetpaw. “Hawkwing! Is this your kit?”

Hawkwing lifted his chin proudly. “One of them. This is Violetpaw. Twigpaw stayed in camp. How did you know she’s mine?”

Barley’s whiskers twitched happily. “You have the same eyes,” he mewed. “And the same thoughtful expression.”

Violetpaw’s chest swelled with pride.

Something moved near the corner of the barn. A tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat was squeezing out through a gap in the wood. She padded, blinking, into the sunshine. “Barley?” She tipped her head. “What’s going on?” Her eyes widened as she spotted the visitors. Joy sparked like fire in their green depths. “Hawkwing!”

“Cherrytail!” Hawkwing hurried to meet his mother, his tail fluffed with joy. He rubbed muzzles with her roughly, a purr rumbling in his throat. Then he paused and drew back. His eyes clouded with unease. “Where’s Cloudmist? Is she okay?”

Violetpaw heard fear in his mew. He had lost so many cats; he clearly worried about losing another.

“She’s fine!” Cherrytail popped her head back through the gap in the wood and called. “Cloudmist! Hawkwing has come at last!”

As she ducked out, a white she-cat pushed past her, her ears pricked with excitement.

“What are you doing here?” She rubbed her cheek against Hawkwing’s. “What happened to all of you? Where is everyone? Did you find the hunting lands Echosong dreamed of?”

“There’s so much to tell you—” Hawkwing didn’t have time to finish. Cherrytail’s ecstatic gaze had flitted to Blossomheart.

“It’s so good to see you!” She raced to greet her other kit, then blinked happily at Hawkwing.

Hawkwing had clearly decided explanations could wait, despite Cherrytail’s barrage of questions. The cats were too excited. The stone beneath Violetpaw’s pads seemed to echo with purring. She hung back beside Molewhisker while her Clanmates greeted one another.

Cherrytail caught her eye. “Who’s this?” she asked eagerly.

Barley puffed out his chest. “Hawkwing has kits now. This is Violetpaw.”

“Kits?” Cherrytail’s eyes shone. “They must be Pebbleshine’s! Do you have littermates?”

“I have a sister called Twigpaw.” Violetpaw was suddenly nervous. She didn’t like being the center of attention. “But she stayed at home.” I wish you were here, she wailed silently to her sister, wondering how to explain why Twigpaw hadn’t come. Everyone liked Twigpaw. She always knew exactly what to say. Violetpaw stared at Cherrytail, desperately searching for words.

“Come and meet Violetpaw!” Cherrytail beckoned Cloudmist with her tail.

The white she-cat hurried over, her yellow eyes wide. “I didn’t know Pebbleshine was expecting kits!” She turned to Hawkwing. “Where is she?”

“Did she stay behind with Twigpaw?” Cherrytail asked.

Violetpaw stiffened. She looked at her father. Grief sharpened his gaze.

Cherrytail read his expression at once. “Hawkwing?” Concern edged her mew. “Did something happen?”

Hawkwing seemed to shrink inside his pelt. “Pebbleshine got separated from us on the journey,” he murmured. “We climbed onto a monster to steal prey, and it ran away with her. She couldn’t jump off in time. The monster carried her off, and she had Twigpaw and Violetpaw alone beside a Thunderpath. Then she disappeared. I wish . . .” He broke off, his mew thick.

Claws jabbed Violetpaw’s heart and she heard herself mumbling, “We think she was killed on the Thunderpath.”

“Oh, you poor things!” Cherrytail rubbed her muzzle against Violetpaw’s cheek.

Hawkwing blinked the grief from his eyes. “She and Twigpaw had hardly opened their eyes when Pebbleshine disappeared.”

Cloudmist’s eyes were round. “How did they survive?”

“They were found by Clan cats.” Hawkwing looked fondly at Violetpaw.

“You found the other Clans!” Cherrytail blinked at him eagerly.

“They found us.” Hawkwing shifted his paws. “Eventually. We wandered so far and so long. And we lost so many cats on the way.” His yellow eyes looked suddenly haunted. Violetpaw pressed against him, her heart aching for his grief.

Cherrytail’s gaze darkened. “Leafstar?”

“She’s well. But Echosong died.”

“No!” Cherrytail’s eyes glittered with sorrow. “How?”

Blossomheart padded forward, touched her muzzle to her mother’s cheek. “There’s so much to tell. So many deaths. Let us tell it slowly.”

Hawkwing nodded. “First, let’s share good news.”

“We have our own territory among the old Clans beside their lake,” Blossomheart told her.

Rabbitleap joined in. “Macgyver and Sandynose are there. And Tinycloud has had a new litter of kits. . . .”

As her mentor listed their Clanmates, Violetpaw stared at Cherrytail and Cloudmist. For so long she’d believed Twigpaw was her only kin. And now she had more kin than she could ever have imagined. She looked at their tortoiseshell-and-white pelts and saw nothing of herself in them. Was she like them at all?

“. . . and Plumwillow had her kits along the journey. They’re apprentices in the new camp now . . .”

As Rabbitleap went on, Barley whispered in Violetpaw’s ear. “Have you eaten today?”

Violetpaw shook her head.

Barley nodded at Molewhisker. “You don’t look familiar. Are you a new member of SkyClan?”

“I’m ThunderClan,” Molewhisker explained. “I came with the patrol to show them the way.”

Barley’s eyes flashed warmly. “How’d you like to help me hunt while they share their news? You look like you’d make a good ratter.”

Molewhisker blinked happily at the farm cat. “I’ll do my best.”

Violetpaw watched them head toward the barn before turning her attention back to Hawkwing. She suddenly didn’t mind being shy. Everyone was talking so fast that there wasn’t a chance for her to speak. But they kept glancing at her with an acceptance she’d never seen in any cat besides Twigpaw and Hawkwing. She purred quietly to herself, relishing the feeling of belonging.

Outside the barn, the sun had lifted high into the sky. Inside, its bright rays flashed through holes in the high roof. Violetpaw lay on the warm, sheltered ground, stretched in a pool of sunlight, her belly full.

Between them, Molewhisker and Barley had caught enough fat, juicy rats to feed them all. It was the best meal Violetpaw had eaten in days. She half-closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth and comfort.

Barley dozed a few tail-lengths away. Molewhisker was exploring the shadows at the back of the barn. Cloudmist sat nearby, washing her face with a paw, while Blossomheart lay in the shadows beside Cherrytail. Their fluffy pelts looked so similar in the half-light that Violetpaw could hardly tell them apart.

Hawkwing finished off the rat Molewhisker had brought him and, licking his lips, blinked at his mother. “We didn’t just come to visit,” he mewed softly.

Cherrytail got to her paws, nodding as though she knew what he was about to say. “You want us to return to the lake with you,” she guessed.

Hawking gazed at her solemnly. “We’ve found the place Echosong saw in her vision. You should be there with us.”

Cloudmist shifted her paws. “I’m not sure. We have a good life here, Hawkwing. We have plenty of fresh-kill and clean water.”

“And it’s safe.” Shadows showed in Cherrytail’s eyes, as though memories of danger still haunted her.

“You will be safe beside the lake,” Hawkwing promised. “You only decided to stay here because you were injured—”

“And because it’s closer to Sharpclaw.” Cherrytail’s eyes glistened with grief.

Violetpaw knew from Hawkwing’s stories that Sharpclaw was his father and Cherrytail’s beloved mate. Darktail had killed him in the battle for the gorge. It had been a huge blow to them all.

Hawkwing held his mother’s gaze. “You can’t live for the past and hide from the future.”

“Your Clan needs you. We need you,” Blossomheart urged.

Rabbitleap flicked his tail. “We need to reunite the Clan. We’re heading for the gorge to look for more of our lost Clanmates. We’re hardly enough cats to make a Clan beside the lake. We don’t even have a medicine cat.”

Cherrytail looked away.

Cloudmist got to her paws. “It’s not easy to start over again,” she mewed. “Especially having known so much pain.”

Hawkwing dropped his gaze. “I understand that it’s hard,” he meowed softly. “But promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I suppose we should. After all, we said we’d rejoin you someday.” Cherrytail sat down and curled her tail around her. “But leaving here would be a great loss.”

Violetpaw saw hurt in her father’s eyes before he quickly blinked it away. “We’ll stop here on our way back from the gorge,” Hawkwing told his mother. “You can tell me your decision then.”

Barley got to his paws and stretched. “Stay tonight,” he meowed. “You all look tired; a good night’s sleep and more food will do you good.”

“Thank you,” Hawkwing dipped his head. “We will.”

Violetpaw felt a surge of gratitude to the farm cat. The barn was cozy and she might be able to sleep deeply enough to dream. If Needletail wasn’t going to appear in the forest again, perhaps she would visit her dreams. Violetpaw wanted a chance to tell her that, even though she had found Cherrytail and Cloudmist, Needletail would always be more like kin to her than any cat.

But at that thought, Violetpaw’s heart quickened. Was there a reason Needletail hadn’t visited for so long?

Are you still angry with me, Needletail?