Thunder Аnd Shadow

Chapter 22

Violetpaw tore another small morsel from the sparrow and laid it on the edge of Snowbird’s nest.

The white she-cat was recovering well. In the half-moon since Puddleshine had returned to camp with the lungwort, the sickness that had gripped ShadowClan had slowly eased. But the stench of death still lingered in the ShadowClan camp. Wasptail had died the night after Kinkfur, and, more troubling, Crowfrost had been too ill to respond to the herb and had died a few day s later.

ShadowClan had lost its deputy.

As Snowbird leaned forward and lapped up the scrap of sparrow flesh, Violetpaw glanced at Dawnpelt. Her m entor’s gaze was em pty as she gently washed Oakfur’s pelt. It had been hard enough for Dawnpelt to lose Sleekwhisker and Juniperclaw to the rogues. But the death of her mate, Crowfrost, had been devastating. And y et Dawnpelt had carried on with her duties without complaining. Violetpaw wished that som e of her other Clanmates could do the sam e. Mistcloud and Sparrowtail had hardly hunted since Kinkfur’s death. Violetpaw had heard them m uttering about Crowfrost, even as he lay dy ing, blam ing him for letting Twigpaw go. Had they convinced ThunderClan to help by keeping Twigpaw, they might have gotten the herb sooner and not lost their deputy.

Mouse-brains! Violetpaw ripped away another piece of sparrow flesh and laid it in front of Snowbird. Puddleshine had m anaged to gather the herb without a hostage.

Yarrowleaf snored gently in her nest, while Puddleshine leaned over Pinenose, listening to her breathing, his ear pressed against her ribs. Snowbird, Oakfur, Yarrowleaf, and Pinenose were the last four cats recovering from the sickness. In a few day s they’d all be well, and the den would be cleared out to make way for fresh nests. The bramble shelter could become the warriors’ den once more. And with Rowanstar well enough to resum e his role as leader, Violetpaw hoped that ShadowClan would start to feel more organized. Rowanstar was still weak, but he had m ade

Tigerheart his new deputy and given Whorlpaw, Snakepaw, and Flowerpaw their apprentice names. The nursery was em pty now, and Grassheart had returned to her warrior duties.

Snakepaw had recovered quickly from the sickness once Puddleshine had adm inistered the lungwort. Violetpaw could glim pse the honey -colored tabby now, ly ing in a strip of sunshine beside the clearing while Whorlpaw and Flowerpaw practiced stalking in the long grass behind her.

“How are they?” Scorchfur’s urgent question m ade Violetpaw j um p. She turned and saw the dark gray tom swagger into the den, a frown in his eyes. He must have come to check on Snowbird and Yarrowleaf.

Puddleshine turned to face the tom. “Snowbird’s breathing is much better,” he reported. “And

Yarrowleaf is well enough to leave her nest when she feels rested.”

Yarrowleaf opened her eyes. “Hi, Scorchfur.” She greeted her father weakly.

Scorchfur glowered at Puddleshine. “She doesn’t seem much better.”

“She’s just tired. A long sleep will—”

Scorchfur didn’t let the medicine cat finish his sentence. “She wouldn’t have gotten sick at all if Rowanstar had acted sooner. And she’d have had the lungwort quicker if Crowfrost hadn’t given away our hostage.”

Puddleshine blinked at the tom. “That’s not true. Bramblestar said that Onestar refused to cooperate even when he knew we had Twigpaw.”

“And why would Bramblestar tell us the truth? It was his apprentice we held.” Scorchfur scowled at him.

Snowbird swallowed another m orsel of sparrow. “Go easy on him, Scorchfur. Puddleshine has been a lifesaver. More would have died without him.”

Scorchfur grunted. “And no cat would have died if we’d had stronger leaders.”

Violetpaw narrowed her eyes. Who in the camp could have been stronger than Rowanstar and Crowfrost? The tom seem ed determ ined to be dissatisfied. Perhaps he had been hoping to take

Tigerheart’s place as deputy, and he was only expressing his resentm ent.

Lionpaw broke into her thoughts. The young she-cat stuck her head through the den entrance.

“How’s Pinenose?” She blinked at her mother anxiously.

Puddleshine padded toward his littermate. “She’s much better today.”

Spikefur’s mew sounded outside. “She’ll get well quicker if you stop pestering her, Lionpaw.”

“I’m not pestering—”

“Spikefur!” Pinenose called eagerly to her mate.

The tom squeezed past Lionpaw and padded to her nest. “Has Puddleshine been taking good care of y ou?”

“Of course.” Her gaze flitted to Puddleshine. “I’m very proud of him. He practically saved the Clan single-pawed.”

Lionpaw huffed at the entrance. “I wish he’d told us he was going to gather lungwort.

Birchpaw and I could have helped.” Was that envy in Lionpaw’s mew?

“There wasn’t time to ask for help,” Puddleshine told his littermate. “If I hadn’t gathered it then, I couldn’t have gathered it at all.”

“What m ade Onestar change his m ind?” Scorchfur looked at Puddleshine, eyes glittering with suspicion.

“May be StarClan sent him a m essage,” Puddleshine answered vaguely. He hadn’t told any cat exactly how he’d gotten his paws on the lungwort, and, clearly, he wasn’t going to share the inform ation now.

Scorchfur grunted and stalked from the den. Spikefur touched his m uzzle fondly to Pinenose’s head, then followed.

Dawnpelt blinked at Violetpaw. “You must be hungry.” They’d been helping Puddleshine with the sick cats since dawn. “Let’s go and see if there’s any thing left on the fresh-kill pile.”

Violetpaw left the sparrow beside Snowbird and nodded to Puddleshine. “Should I bring y ou som ething to eat?”

Puddleshine shook his head. “I’ll fetch som ething when I’m done here.”

The medicine cat looked skinnier than ever. Dawnpelt must have noticed too.

“You need to take care of y ourself,” the cream she-cat warned him. “If you collapse, there’s no one else to take care of the Clan.”

Puddleshine dipped his head to her. “I won’t be long,” he prom ised.

Violetpaw followed Dawnpelt to the fresh-kill pile. A vole and a lizard were left over from yesterday’s catch.

Dawnpelt glanced around the camp. “Haven’t the hunting patrols been out y et?” The m orning sun was lifting about the treetops. Mistcloud and Sparrowtail sat beside the flat rock, eyes half-closed. Scorchfur and Spikefur were m urm uring to each other at the far end of the clearing.

Tawny pelt was gazing expectantly toward Rowanstar’s den. Wasn’t the ShadowClan leader up y et? And where was Tigerheart?

Strikestone padded toward Dawnpelt. He greeted his mother with a purr. “I hope Tigerheart organizes the hunting patrols soon.” He glanced at the vole and lizard. “I’m hungry for fresh prey.”

Dawnpelt tossed the stale vole toward Violetpaw and pulled the lizard closer. “Why hasn’t

Tigerheart organized the patrols?”

“Rowanstar called him into his den,” Strikestone told her. “May be they’re deciding who’s fit to hunt.”

“Let’s hope they don’t spend too long talking. Hungry bellies make grum py cats.” She leaned down and tore the head off the lizard and began chewing it.

Violetpaw shuddered. She’d never liked lizards, although her Clanmates happily gobbled them down as though they were a delicacy.

She sniffed the vole. It still sm elled stale, but she suddenly realized how hungry she was and bit into it. As its m usky flavor bathed her tongue, she saw Strikestone turn his head toward Rowanstar’s den. Rowanstar and Tigerheart appeared at the entrance and padded out toward their Clanmates.

Tawny pelt turned to face them at once. But Rippletail, eyes glinting with disdain, crossed the clearing and m urm ured som ething in Spikefur’s ear. The dark brown tom curled his lip, his icy gaze on Rowanstar.

The vole seem ed to turn dry in Violetpaw’s m outh. What were the warriors say ing? Nothing pleasant, by the look of it.

Tigerheart padded to the head of the clearing, Rowanstar at his side. “We’ve been discussing the hunting patrols,” he called, his eyes flitting around the Clan. “Our Clanmates are recovering and have good appetites, but som e are not y et fit to hunt. This means that the rest of us must hunt harder than ever. I want the fresh-kill pile full by this evening.”

Scorchfur and Spikefur exchanged glances.

Tigerheart went on. “Spikefur, take Lionpaw, Mistcloud, Whorlpaw, and Rippletail to the ditches and hunt there. Scorchfur, take Birchpaw, Grassheart, Flowerpaw, and Sparrowtail to the lake to hunt. Dawnpelt, take Violetpaw, Tawny pelt, and Strikestone to the alder grove near the border. There will be good hunting there now that it’s newleaf, but watch out for the rogues.”

Dawnpelt straightened, swallowing the last of her lizard, and nodded to the deputy.

Spikefur stared at Tigerheart. “Where will you and Rowanstar be hunting?”

“Rowanstar needs to rest,” Tigerheart told him. “He’s still recovering from his illness.”

“He looks fine to m e,” Spikefur looked the leader up and down scornfully.

Rowanstar’s eyes flashed. “I will hunt,” he mewed hoarsely, “if the Clan needs it.”

Scorchfur nodded toward the den where the rem aining sick cats lay. “The Clan needs it,” he growled.

Worry darkened Tigerheart’s gaze. “You shouldn’t risk y our health,” he mewed to Rowanstar.

Rowanstar m et his deputy’s gaze. “I must show m y Clan I am still strong.”

Spikefur snorted. “It’s a bit late for that.” Flicking his tail sharply, he headed out of camp, his patrol hurry ing after him.

Violetpaw watched him go, her pelt rippling with unease. Even ShadowClan’s warriors were showing no respect for their leader now. She glanced toward Dawnpelt, hoping for reassurance, but her m entor was already following the other patrols out of camp. I came back here because I wanted to live by the warrior code. But right now she felt as though ShadowClan had forgotten the one thing that m ade them warriors: they seem ed to have forgotten loy alty.

She followed Dawnpelt. Perhaps tonight’s Gathering will remind them what it is to be a true Clan.

Violetpaw draped the last piece of dried m oss inside the freshly woven bracken nest and sat back on her haunches to adm ire her work. Outside, the full moon was rising, so bright that it lit the camp and shafts of moonlight speared the elders’ den.

Ratscar nodded approvingly at the new nest. “Oakfur will be pleased with it.”

“Puddleshine say s he can return to the elders’ den tom orrow,” Violetpaw told him. “I wanted him to be com fortable.” She glanced at Ratscar’s shabby nest. “I can make you a fresh nest tom orrow if you like.”

A purr rasped in Ratscar’s throat. “That would be great.” His gaze flitted to the third nest in the den, now stale and cold. “It’s going to be quiet in here without Kinkfur,” he m urm ured sadly.

“Oakfur isn’t much of a talker.”

“ShadowClan!” Rowanstar’s call sounded outside the den.

Blinking at Ratscar, Violetpaw hurried out. Let Rowanstar choose me to go to the Gathering.

She wondered if she’d see Twigpaw, then pushed the thought away. Why would I want to see her?

Anger flashed beneath her pelt. She left me.

Tawny pelt and Tigerheart were already standing expectantly in front of Rowanstar. At the edge of the clearing, Strikestone plucked at the grass eagerly, the rem ains of the fresh-kill he’d been eating beside him. Dawnpelt crossed the camp, heading toward Rowanstar, her tail high.

Violetpaw hurried to j oin her m entor, her paws prickling with excitem ent as Rowanstar began to call the names of the cats who would travel with him to the island. “Tawny pelt, Tigerheart, Violetpaw.” He chose me! Violetpaw purred as she reached Dawnpelt.

“Puddleshine!” The medicine cat was already crossing the clearing as Rowanstar called his name.

“Dawnpelt, Strikestone, Spikefur, Mistcloud, Whorlpaw, Sparrowtail, Flowerpaw.”

Violetpaw glanced over her shoulder, scanning the clearing for the young apprentices. Their first Gathering! Flowerpaw was hurry ing toward Rowanstar, her eyes shining. Whorlpaw followed at her heels.

Violetpaw’s purr faltered as she caught sight of Spikefur. He was hanging back at the edge of the clearing, his shoulders stiff. Mistcloud stood beside him. The warriors’ eyes were dark. Why weren’t they hurry ing to j oin the others?

“Scorchfur, Sparrowtail.” Rowanstar went on, apparently unaware that som e of the cats he had named weren’t m oving from their place.

Scorchfur glowered at the ShadowClan leader. “We’re not coming.” His y owl cut across the moonlit camp like a claw slicing through the darkness.

Tigerheart and Tawny pelt j erked their m uzzles toward the dark gray tom. Dawnpelt turned to face him.

Violetpaw stared in disbelief as Spikefur, Sparrowtail, Mistcloud, and Rippletail padded to join Scorchfur. They glared m alevolently at Rowanstar.

Scorchfur lashed his tail. “Why should we m eet with the Clans who refused to help us?”

Spikefur hissed. “They were prepared to let us die!”

Rowanstar pushed between Tawny pelt and Tigerheart, stopping short of the rebellious warriors. “I am the leader of ShadowClan, and I say we’re going.”

Scorchfur huffed. “Where were you when Crowfrost handed our hostage over to ThunderClan without a fight?”

“Holding an apprentice hostage wasn’t going to change any thing,” Rowanstar retorted.

Tawny pelt had told the ShadowClan leader what had happened while he was ill. “Sickness is no excuse for a Clan to act like rogues.”

“And how do rogues act?” Spikefur stepped forward. “Do they withhold herbs while innocent cats die? Or is that just Clan cats?”

Mistcloud’s ears twitched. “Onestar behaved badly and the other Clans let him. We are not like them. We don’t want to be like them.”

Rowanstar’s eyes rounded sy m pathetically. “If you want to air y our grievances, come to the Gathering. Speak with the other Clans. Perhaps we can make them see that they’ve treated us badly.”

“Words didn’t work before,” Scorchfur snarled. “Why should they work now?”

“I’ll speak to them for y ou.” Rowanstar’s tone was conciliatory. “You can stay here and I will report back what they said.”

Scorchfur narrowed his eyes to threatening slits. “If you go to the Gathering, don’t bother coming back,” he hissed. “ShadowClan doesn’t need a leader as weak as y ou.”

As he spoke, Spikefur turned toward the entrance to the camp.

Violetpaw’s heart lurched as she saw shadowy figures stream ing into the clearing. She tasted rogue scent, and as the shapes m oved into the moonlight, she recognized Darktail, Rain, Raven, and the rest of their campmates. Violetpaw felt sick. Needletail was with them, and Sleekwhisker and Cloverfoot. Every cat from the rogue camp was here except Beenose. Had she left them?

Had the sickness killed her?

Violetpaw pressed against Dawnpelt, asham ed of her trem bling paws. What are they doing here? Why have they come?

Spikefur padded to greet the rogues, dipping his head to Darktail before turning back to Rowanstar. “We need new leadership,” he growled. “Strong leadership.”

Rowanstar’s eyes sparked with fury. He glared at Spikefur, and then his gaze flitted angrily around the rebellious cats before resting finally on Darktail. “Are you suggesting that we give our Clan over to rogues?” His mew was icy.

Violetpaw saw the m uscles rippling across Rowanstar’s shoulders. His ribs still showed through his pelt from the illness, but as his hackles rose, she remembered what a fierce warrior he was.

He faced Darktail. “You will take this Clan over m y dead body.”

Delight sparked in Darktail’s gaze. “That sounds fair.”

The rogue leader flung him self at Rowanstar.

Violetpaw gasped.

Rowanstar reared, but the force of Darktail’s attack pushed him back. Rowanstar’s hind legs trem bled as he dug his paws into the earth and braced him self against the snarling rogue. Ey es flashing, Darktail turned his head and bit into the ShadowClan leader’s neck.

Rowanstar grunted, twisting beneath Darktail as he tried to shake him off. But the ShadowClan leader must have lost his balance. With a j erk, Darktail flipped him onto his side, jaws still gripping his neck.

Help him! Violetpaw stared at her Clanmates. They drew closer, their eyes wide with shock.

Why doesn’t someone help? Her gaze flitted from the Clan cats to the rogues. Needletail, where are you? But as soon as she spotted her friend, she knew she would not stop the attack. Needletail was watching the attack with excitement—just like the rest of the rogues.

Rowanstar hissed, struggling free from Darktail’s grip. He turned on the rogue leader, but Darktail was quicker. He dived beneath Rowanstar’s belly and heaved him off his paws. As

Rowanstar fell, Darktail lashed out, slicing the ShadowClan leader’s m uzzle. Blood splashed across the clearing, shining darkly in the moonlight.

Tigerheart snarled and leaped at the rogue leader.

At last! Violetpaw leaned forward, blood roaring in her ears.

Tawny pelt hurled herself after Tigerheart, and together they shoved Darktail away from Rowanstar. Batting at him with vicious blows, they drove him back toward his campmates.

Tigerheart glanced at Tawny pelt, and together they began stalking toward the glowering rogues, snarling. But then, suddenly, Tigerheart looked around and seem ed to realize that he and Tawny pelt were the only cats m oving to defend their leader. “Wait,” he hissed to Tawny pelt, looking around the camp. She dropped onto all four paws, narrowing her eyes as she glared at the invading cats.

The rest of ShadowClan watched, unm oving.

Tigerheart and Tawny pelt looked at each other, uneasy acceptance flashing in their eyes, and then slowly backed away.

What was wrong with the others? Violetpaw stared at them in disbelief. Did they truly all want a rogue leader instead of Rowanstar?

She glanced at Rowanstar as he staggered to his paws. Blood welled on his m uzzle and darkened his neck fur. As he backed toward Dawnpelt, Violetpaw could see that he was trem bling.

Dawnpelt pressed against his flank to steady him. Tigerheart and Tawny pelt j oined them, bunching close together like cornered m ice.

Violetpaw blinked at the huddled group of her Clanmates, feeling sick. “What do we do?” she breathed, one eye on the rogues.

Rowanstar looked at her, pain showing in his eyes. “We go to the Gathering.” He padded forward, lifting his chin. Tigerheart and Tawny pelt followed. Violetpaw started after them, Dawnpelt at her side.

Spikefur curled his lip. “If you go,” he rem inded the ShadowClan leader, “don’t come back.”

“Puddleshine!” Rowanstar beckoned to the medicine cat with a flick of his tail. “Come with us.”

Puddleshine hurried after him.

“Wait.” Spikefur blocked his son’s path. “You can’t leave. Your Clan needs y ou.”

Puddleshine halted, his pelt ruffling. He glanced toward the den where the sick cats lay, then around at his Clanmates and the rogues.

Spikefur went on. “ShadowClan can’t be without a medicine cat again. What if Pinenose relapses? Would you ever forgive y ourself if y our mother died because you left?” He leaned closer to Puddleshine. “If any of y our Clanmates died?”

Puddleshine’s eyes glittered with uncertainty.

Rowanstar paused and looked at the young medicine cat. “I will understand if you decide to stay,” he meowed grim ly.

Puddleshine dropped his gaze. “I can’t leave,” he m urm ured. “I have sworn to protect my Clanmates.”

As he turned and retreated to the medicine cat den, Sleekwhisker padded forward and fixed her gaze on Dawnpelt. “Didn’t you miss m e and Juniperclaw?”

Violetpaw felt Dawnpelt stiffen beside her, but her m entor could hardly m eet her kit’s gaze.

“You betrayed your Clan,” she mumbled.

“But we’ve come to help them. And you.” Sleekwhisker’s eyes glittered in the moonlight.

“Now that Crowfrost is dead, we’re all you have.”

Dawnpelt puffed out her chest. “I still have Strikestone.” But as she glanced at the young tom, he backed away. “Are you staying?” She sounded like she could hardly believe it.

“Where else can I go?” Strikestone m urm ured. “Where can you go? This is our home.”

Dawnpelt hesitated.

“You can’t stay!” Violetpaw stared at her desperately, but she could see resignation in her m entor’s gaze.

“He’s right,” Dawnpelt whispered. “I can’t leave every single one of m y kits. And this is the only home I’ve known. How can I leave?” She blinked apologetically at Rowanstar, her father, and then Tawny pelt and Tigerheart.

The ShadowClan leader turned away, dism ay darkening his eyes. Lifting his tail, he barged between the rogues and ducked through the tunnel. Tigerheart and Tawny pelt followed him, their pelts spiking.

Violetpaw glanced at Needletail, who was watching Rowanstar’s retreat with satisfaction. It’s like I don’t even know her, Violetpaw thought. But then she swallowed hard. Except I do. Hadn’t

Needletail always questioned all the rules of the Clan? It was what had always scared Violetpaw about her—and thrilled her.

Violetpaw tore her eyes from Needletail and headed after her Clanmates.

“Wait!” Needletail’s mew sounded in her ear as she passed. The silver she-cat’s scent washed over her. “Where are you going? I thought y ou’d stay. Please don’t leave m e again!”

Violetpaw m et Needletail’s pleading gaze. Even as her paws tingled with eagerness to leave, the fact that Needletail wanted her to stay warm ed a place deep inside her. “You don’t need m e.

You have plenty of friends here.” Her gaze flashed to Rain. “And you have him.”

“But they’re not m y kin, not like you are.” Needletail stared at her anxiously.

My kin. She’d felt the sam e way about Needletail. Guilt surged through Violetpaw. Needletail had been the only cat in ShadowClan who had always been kind to her, and she had repaid her by abandoning her without a word. Could she leave her again? Was that fair?

“Please stay,” Needletail begged. “We can make ShadowClan the Clan it used to be, before y ou cam e. A great Clan. A brave Clan. You’ll be proud to be part of it.” She looked around the rogues. “These are cats who understand what it’s like not to belong. They will be as loy al to you as I have been. We’re like kin now. Can you say that about any other cat y ou’ve known?”

Grief clawed at Violetpaw’s heart as she remembered how ThunderClan had let Rowanstar take her from her sister without lifting a paw to stop him, and how Twigpaw had walked away from her to return to her Clanmates. Needletail was right. She was the closest thing Violetpaw had ever known to real kin.

She blinked at Needletail. “Okay,” she mewed. “I’ll stay.”

As Needletail purred and pressed her m uzzle to Violetpaw’s cheek, Violetpaw breathed in her scent. It felt good. She turned her back on the entrance through which Rowanstar, Tigerheart, and Tawny pelt had disappeared and gazed at her new Clan.