Darkest Night

CHAPTER 14

Clouds filled in the sky, as gray as doves. Alderheart fluffed out his fur against the damp chill. The air tasted of rain. The fine leaf-fall days were giving way to darker weather.

He glanced at the forest closing behind him, wondering how far he’d traveled. ShadowClan scents still emanated from the pines beside him. Surely he must be nearing RiverClan by now? He’d been walking since the sun had risen above the camp, skirting SkyClan territory, and then ShadowClan territory, hoping no cat would spot him as he headed toward the stretch of land that ran down to the lake between ShadowClan and RiverClan. There, Twolegs inhabited dens during greenleaf. He might find what he was looking for.

He didn’t want the help of any cat. This was a quest he wanted to make alone. Why involve others in a journey that would probably be a waste of time?

As the forest thinned and the land opened into rolling meadows, he narrowed his eyes. The Twoleg dens dotted the hillside where it dipped toward the lake. Would Twolegs still be there now that greenleaf had cooled into leaf-fall? He didn’t want to find Twolegs, but if there were no six-toed cats among the Clans, perhaps he’d find one here among their kittypets.

It’s a dumb hope.

He ignored the doubt that was drowning his thoughts. He had to try. RiverClan had cut themselves off entirely. ShadowClan seemed as divided as they’d been when the rogues moved onto their territory, and SkyClan had so few cats that they hardly seemed a Clan at all. Alderheart couldn’t shift the sense of dread that pressed in his belly during the lengthening nights. The Clans seemed to be falling apart; not even their history seemed able to bring them together. This prophecy must be the answer.

He could only hope that they were interpreting StarClan’s words correctly. That they would find the six-toed cat, and that the cat would help lift the darkness that seemed to hang heavier than the storm clouds threatening the forest. He’d traveled to WindClan the day before to ask Harestar if he knew of a six-toed cat. But Harestar had only stared at him uneasily, and Alderheart had left the camp wondering if he’d simply made the WindClan leader more anxious.

He headed downslope, his mouth open as he tasted the air for kittypet scent.

A high-pitched bark made him freeze. His pelt bushed as he glanced over his shoulder and spotted a white-and-brown dog yapping at the top of the hill. It was held by a Twoleg kit, which pulled on the vine attached to the dog’s neck.

Alderheart hesitated. The dog was glaring at him. Its eyes glittered wildly as it barked. With a yelp, it showed its teeth and tugged at the vine, paws scrabbling against the ground. The Twoleg kit yowled angrily as the dog barked harder. Suddenly, with a snarl, the dog jerked the vine free of the Twoleg’s paw.

The dog streaked toward him, and fear seared like fire beneath Alderheart’s pelt. Alderheart scanned the grassy slope. There was nowhere to hide. He ran, pelting over the grass, terror pounding in his ears. He headed for the Twoleg nests, then veered, his thoughts spinning. What shelter could Twolegs give him? He raced across the slope. The sound of the barking was growing louder. He glimpsed the brown-and-white fur of the dog at the corner of his gaze. It was closing fast. He swerved again, running blindly now, with a vague hope of reaching the lake’s edge, as though somehow the water could protect him.

Tree. The thought sparked a moment before he spied the young rowan. It sprouted at the edge of the slope. Dogs can’t climb! He raced for it, his heart lurching as he saw that he’d have to cross the dog’s path to reach it. Pushing harder against the ground, he ran faster. Wind streamed through his fur. Air burned his lungs. He felt the hot breath of the dog on his flank as he flashed in front of it and leaped for the tree. He hooked his claws into the bark and hauled himself up, his hind legs scrabbling in desperate panic as the dog yelped, a whisker beneath him. He pulled his tail clear of the snapping jaws and scrambled onto the lowest branch.

He stared down, his flanks heaving.

The dog jumped and twisted beneath him, its ears flapping, its eyes rolling with rage.

Alderheart flattened his ears against its yapping and tried to catch his breath. He was trembling so hard he thought he might lose his balance. He dug his claws deep into the bark and squashed himself flat.

The Twoleg kit was racing toward the tree, wailing at the dog. As it neared, it lunged for the vine, which still trailed from the dog’s neck. It jerked the dog backward and, growling with effort, dragged it away.

Alderheart watched them go, his mouth dry with fear. Perhaps he should have asked for an escort after all. He stayed in the tree until the kit and its dog had disappeared from view. Then he waited a while longer until he could no longer hear the dog yapping. Unpeeling himself from the branch, he scanned the hillside.

Something was moving near the top. He strained to make out a shape, but the wind was streaming through the long grass and it was hard to see anything clearly against the rippling pasture. He shrugged. It was probably a RiverClan warrior, or ShadowClan. Their territories lay on either side. Or perhaps it was one of the kittypets he’d come here to find. For now, he climbed cautiously down the tree and looked toward the Twoleg nests. He would start there.

A dirt Thunderpath trailed from the cluster of Twoleg dens. It smelled stale, its stench softened by the wind. Alderheart followed it, keeping to the side, his ears pricked for the low roar of a Twoleg monster. Wooden Twoleg dens rose on either side, and he glanced at them nervously. There was no sign of life. Perhaps the Twolegs had gone back to their leaf-bare camp? He ducked under a fence around the edge of a low den, wrinkling his nose as he scented rancid food. Perhaps there were Twolegs here after all. . . .

A hiss made him freeze. A black tom was glaring at him from beside a tall shrub. A tabby she-cat stalked out from behind the foliage. They faced him, their pelts prickling with hostility.

Kittypets!

“I’m not here to steal anything,” Alderheart called out.

The black tom narrowed his eyes. “What did you come for?”

Alderheart hesitated. There was something familiar about the tom. And he seemed to recognize the scent of the tabby she-cat. He searched his memory, wondering if he could have seen these cats before.

The tabby tipped her head, her eyes hard. “Well?” she snarled.

“I’m looking for someone.” Alderheart’s pelt ruffled nervously.

“Are you a rogue?” The tom padded closer. “Did Darktail send you?” Was that fear glittering in his gaze?

Suddenly, Alderheart remembered them. They’d been held captive by Darktail, hadn’t they? He’d seen them fighting in the battle with the rogues. He remembered the she-cat’s name. “Zelda!”

She backed away, looking scared. “How do you know me?”

“I’m Alderheart,” he told her. “I’m ThunderClan’s medicine cat. I saw you in the battle with the rogues.”

The tom stretched his muzzle forward and tasted the air. “You helped fight the rogues?” he asked.

“I didn’t exactly fight,” Alderheart told him. For the first time in moons, he felt self-conscious about his role as a medicine cat. Would these cats understand that fighting wasn’t always the bravest thing a cat could do?

The tom padded forward and sniffed him. “I’m Loki.” He stood back, clearly satisfied that Alderheart wasn’t a threat. “Who are you looking for? There aren’t any Clan cats here.”

“I know.” Alderheart’s pelt smoothed. “The cat I’m looking for doesn’t have to be a Clan cat. It just needs to have six toes.”

Zelda’s eyes widened. “Six toes?”

“Cats don’t have six toes,” Loki grunted.

“Sometimes they have four.” Loki glanced at the fence behind Alderheart. “Like Jasper.”

Alderheart looked around, his heart lurching as he saw a stocky kittypet crouching on top of the fence. The russet tom was glaring at him.

“Jasper lost a toe after it got infected,” Zelda explained.

“That must have hurt,” Alderheart mewed to the russet tom kindly.

“Why do you care?” Jasper curled his lip.

“I’m a medicine cat,” he explained. “It’s my duty to care.”

Jasper hissed. “I don’t need the sympathy of a mangy old stray.”

“He’s a Clan cat, Jasper.” Zelda padded to Alderheart’s side.

“I’ve heard enough about Clan cats to know that they’re a bunch of mangy old strays,” Jasper hissed. “Didn’t you say they held you prisoner?”

“That was the rogues,” Loki told him. “Rogues are different.”

“Wild cats are all the same.” Jasper watched Alderheart coldly.

Zelda blinked apologetically at Alderheart. “Jasper’s okay, really,” she mewed.

“It’s all right.” Alderheart tried to pretend he wasn’t unnerved by Jasper’s open hostility. “We have bad-tempered cats in the Clans too.”

Jasper slid off the fence and stalked away, his tail high.

Relieved, Alderheart blinked hopefully at Zelda. “Do you know of any six-toed cats?”

Zelda shook her head. “Not around here.”

“I’ve never heard of any,” Loki agreed.

“Sorry we can’t help.” Zelda whisked her tail. “Why are you looking for one?”

Would kittypets understand the importance of a StarClan prophecy? Probably not. Alderheart dipped his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he mewed. “I should go home. Thanks for your help.”

“I wish we could have helped more,” Loki meowed.

“Are you hungry?” Zelda asked. “There’s food outside my Twoleg’s nest. It’s really tasty.”

Alderheart tried not to let his shudder show. He’d heard about kittypet food. Graystripe had told him that it tasted like dried leaf mold. “No, thanks,” he meowed politely. “I need to go home.”

“Okay.” Zelda headed across the grass. “Take care.”

Loki followed her. “Bye, Alderheart. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Thanks.” Alderheart headed for the fence and squeezed under it. Disappointment weighed in his paws. He knew there had only been a slim chance that he’d find the answer to StarClan’s prophecy here, but hope had kept his spirits high. Where else could he look for a six-toed kittypet? Perhaps he needed to head farther out of Clan territory. But not today. His Clanmates would worry if he didn’t return soon. He headed along the dirt Thunderpath that led out of the Twoleg camp.

Flattening his ears against the cold, he cut across the grass, leaving the Twoleg camp behind. The wind whistled past his ears, and he narrowed his eyes against it so that he could barely hear or see.

Suddenly, paws slammed into his side. A flurry of russet fur caught his eye as he staggered sideways. The smell of kittypet washed over him. Instinctively, he lashed out, hooking thick folds of pelt, but his attacker was bigger and tugged easily free before swiping Alderheart’s cheek with a hefty blow. Pain scorched through Alderheart’s head as he felt claws rake his flesh. With a yowl he hit out blindly, gasping as another powerful blow knocked him off-balance. He fell and felt the weight of the other cat pin him to the ground. Thrashing his hind legs, he tried to wriggle free, but the kittypet held him fast. Jasper! He recognized the pelt and the scent now. Rage swelled in his chest as he tried to fight the tom off.

“So you have bad-tempered cats in your Clan, do you?” Jasper sneered, looming over Alderheart, pressing him into the earth. “Are they as bad-tempered as this?” Jasper lifted a wide paw and began to swing it toward Alderheart’s muzzle.

Alderheart braced himself for pain, furious at being so helpless.

But the blow didn’t land, and suddenly, the weight lifted from his chest. Alderheart scrambled to his paws, confused. Had Jasper just been trying to scare him? Then he heard a yowl and saw a flash of Sparkpelt’s orange fur. Jasper staggered as Sparkpelt lunged at his forepaws and knocked them from under him. As he collapsed onto his chin, she reared and thumped his flank with her paws. He rolled onto his side, his hind legs churning frantically. Sparkpelt hopped clear of the kittypet’s flailing claws and grabbed Jasper’s throat from behind. She jerked his head backward and hissed in his ear. “If my brother tells you we have bad-tempered cats in our Clan, you’d better believe it.” She sliced her claws along his throat, not hard enough to draw blood, but tugging out fur. Then she let him go.

Jasper leaped to his paws and faced Sparkpelt and Alderheart, his eyes flashing with shock. As he backed away, Alderheart felt relief flood him, and yet his pelt prickled with embarrassment. Medicine cat or not, he should have been able to defend himself from a kittypet.

Sparkpelt hissed at Jasper, and the russet tom turned and fled. “So brave!” she yowled after him. Purring with amusement, she turned to Alderheart. “Are you okay?”

He ran a paw over his cheek. It was wet with blood and it stung, but the cuts didn’t feel deep. “I’ll be fine.” He met her eye, feeling hot with shame. “Thanks.”

She shrugged. “It was nothing.”

Nothing? She’d just fought off a tom nearly twice her size. Alderheart hadn’t even been able to defend himself. Was she trying to rub it in?

Alderheart headed upslope.

Sparkpelt hurried after him. “Where are you going now?”

“Home,” he mewed curtly. “Have you been following me?”

“Of course I’ve been following you.” Sparkpelt fell in beside him. “You slunk out of camp like you were up to something. I wanted to know what. And it’s a good thing I did. That cat would have shredded you.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Alderheart snapped. “I was just planning my next move.”

Sparkpelt didn’t respond. Instead she changed the subject. “Why did you come here?”

“Medicine-cat stuff,” he answered. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Alderheart kept walking. He felt mean. She’d just saved him and he was acting ungrateful, but he couldn’t shake the embarrassment from his pelt. Was she going to tell their Clanmates that she’d had to rescue him like a kit?

Sparkpelt blocked his path. “What’s wrong?” She gazed into his eyes anxiously. “Are you annoyed with me?”

Thoughts flashed like shooting stars through Alderheart’s mind. Where should he start? She had wanted SkyClan to go back to the gorge after he’d spent moons finding them. She’d been so busy flirting with Larksong like a feather-headed apprentice that she hadn’t even noticed that Alderheart had hardly spoken to her in a moon. And now she had totally humiliated him and didn’t even realize it. He glared at her. “What’s wrong with you?” he snapped. “We were always close. Now I feel like I hardly know you!”

“We still are close, aren’t we?” Hurt flashed across Sparkpelt’s intense green gaze. “I know I’ve been kind of distracted lately with Larksong.”

“Kind of?”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” Sparkpelt blinked at him.

“Not exactly.” Alderheart didn’t want to sound dumb. “But you haven’t noticed anything! You didn’t care how I felt about SkyClan. Or that I’ve been worried about the prophecy or that it might be embarrassing to need saving from a kittypet! You’re always so sure of yourself—you act like everything you do is okay, and sometimes it’s not okay!”

Sparkpelt’s fur ruffled along her spine. “I know you wanted SkyClan to stay. But that didn’t mean I had to agree. I can have my own opinion. And of course I care that you’re worried.” She began to pace back and forth. “But you’re right. I guess I’ve been too caught up with Larksong to take the time to talk to you about stuff that’s important. And I’m sorry I saved you from that fat kittypet. . . .” She paused. “I’m not sorry exactly. I wasn’t going to let you get your fur ripped off. But I trained as a warrior and you trained as a medicine cat. If I was bleeding to death right now, you’d save me, wouldn’t you? Because that’s what you do. You save cats. I hunt and fight.” She stopped and gazed at him.

Guilt jabbed Alderheart’s belly. “I’m sorry.” He stared at the ground. “I know I’m being oversensitive. And you are allowed to have your own opinions.” He glanced at her quickly. “Even if they’re wrong.”

She purred. “I’m glad you’re sensitive. It makes you a great brother.” She nudged his shoulder with her nose. “Let’s go back to camp and take the biggest piece of prey from the pile, and if anyone complains, I’ll just tell them that you traveled all the way here and fought off the fiercest cat in the forest.”

Alderheart began to climb the slope. “Okay, but let’s not take the biggest piece. Just the second biggest piece.”

“Okay.” Sparkpelt fell in beside him. “Why did you come all the way here? And don’t tell me it’s medicine-cat stuff again.”

“I was hoping one of those kittypets might be the six-toed cat,” Alderheart told her.

“The one who’s going to save the Clans from the storm?”

He nodded.

“But no luck?” she asked.

“No.” Alderheart’s tail drooped.

“Don’t worry,” Sparkpelt mewed softly. “You’ll work it out. After all, you did find SkyClan.”

“Twigpaw found SkyClan,” he corrected her.

“Only because you told her where to look.” Sparkpelt lifted her tail. “And perhaps this prophecy isn’t as bad as you think. Maybe StarClan is just being cautious because so much bad stuff has happened already.”

They reached the top of the slope and turned toward the forest. Perhaps this prophecy isn’t as bad as you think. Alderheart tried to imagine that Sparkpelt was right, but anxiety still tugged in his belly. “No,” he murmured. “I can feel it’s important. StarClan wants us to figure it out. RiverClan has turned its back on us. ShadowClan is close to falling apart. I don’t know how a six-toed cat can fix everything, but even if it only leads us to the next clue, it’s worth trying for.”

As they headed into the trees, Sparkpelt padded closer, letting her fur brush his. “Tell me if you need help,” she mewed. “If you need to make another journey like this, I can come with you.”

He blinked at her gratefully, pleased that the anger that had been sitting like a stone in his belly for so long had dissolved. Affection swelled in his chest. The forest muffled the wind, but above the trees the sky was growing darker. “Tell me about Larksong. Do you really like him?”

Sparkpelt shrugged. “Yeah. A lot. But . . . I don’t know. I want to enjoy being a warrior right now. I don’t want to get serious. But I like being with Larksong, and I think he likes being with me.” She glanced nervously at Alderheart. “Do you think he likes being with me?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Alderheart mewed. “You’re funny and smart and a great warrior.”

She nudged him. “Thanks, Alderheart.”

As Alderheart purred, an ominous growl sounded from the bracken beside them. The stench of dog washed his muzzle. Panic shrilled through him as the brown-and-white dog lunged from the undergrowth. Alderheart recognized it at once. Its vine trailed on the ground beside it. Its growl exploded into ugly barking.

Sparkpelt knocked Alderheart backward and swiped a paw at the dog’s muzzle. Fast as a fox, the dog thrust its nose low and snapped its jaws around Sparkpelt’s hind leg. With a tug, it yanked her onto her back and dragged her toward the bracken.

Alderheart’s chest seemed to burst with terror. Without thinking, he flung himself at the dog. Flailing with every paw, he clung to its head and tore at it wildly.

The dog yelped in pain, thrashing its head back and forth. Alderheart clung harder. Jaws snapped beneath him. Hot breath billowed around him. Blind with terror, he hooked his hind claws into the folds of fur around the dog’s neck and began churning.

Whimpering, the dog thumped Alderheart against a tree, and Alderheart let go. Winded and trembling, he scrambled to his paws, ready to fight for his life. But the dog turned and, with a howl, pounded away through the bracken and disappeared between the trees.

Blood roared in Alderheart’s ears. “Sparkpelt?” He saw her orange pelt beneath the bracken fronds. “Sparkpelt!” Throat tight with fear, he darted to her side.

She rolled over and stared at him, her green eyes wide. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Weak with relief, Alderheart scanned her flank. Blood was welling around her hind leg.

She heaved herself to her paws and gingerly touched her injured hind leg to the ground. “Nothing broken,” she breathed.

“That bite will need treating,” Alderheart mewed anxiously.

Sparkpelt shooed him forward with a flick of her tail. “It’s bad enough you had to chase the dog off. I’m supposed to be the warrior. Don’t rub nettles into the wound.”

He glanced at her teasingly. “I was going to use oak leaf. It’s better for infections.”

“Smart-ears.” Purring, Sparkpelt limped toward the ThunderClan border.

Alderheart hurried after her. Pride washed his pelt. As he lifted his muzzle happily, the skies opened and rain began to pound the canopy.