Yellowfang’s Secret

Chapter 36

Yellowfang stood beside Raggedstar’s body in the center of the camp while the cats of ShadowClan filed out of their dens to sit vigil for their dead leader. Every cat’s eyes held the same stunned expression, as if they couldn’t believe that their leader was dead.

The older warriors and elders in particular were struggling with grief. “Raggedstar was leader for such a short time,” Archeye mewed. “He should have cared for his Clan for many seasons yet.”

“How terrible, to lose nine lives at once!” Hollyflower murmured.

Brokentail was crouching beside his father’s head with one paw resting on Raggedstar’s cold fur. “Those WindClan maggots must have been determined to send him to StarClan,” he rasped.

Struggling to focus through her aching sadness, Yellowfang padded to stand at Brokentail’s shoulder. “You must go to Moonstone to receive your lives,” she reminded him. “You are leader of ShadowClan now!”

Brokentail looked up at her with fury in his eyes. “I will not leave my father’s body in the cold!” he hissed. “We will go tomorrow.”

Startled—I thought becoming leader was all he ever wanted—Yellowfang didn’t try to argue. She bowed her head. “Of course. StarClan will understand,” she murmured.

As dawn crept into the sky, the elders gathered around to carry Raggedstar’s body outside the camp for burial.

“May StarClan light your path, Raggedstar,” Yellowfang announced. “May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”

She watched the elders bear their former leader’s body away, and felt a tremor of fear in her belly. If WindClan did this to us, we must prepare for war. Hearing angry voices, she noticed Scorchwind and Blackfoot huddled beside Tangleburr and Cinderfur.

“WindClan might attack us at any moment,” Cinderfur meowed. “They’ll think we’re weak without a leader. What are we going to do?”

“That’s for Brokentail to decide,” Tangleburr reminded him. Her tail-tip was twitching, but she was clearly trying to control her fury. “But he can’t do anything until he gets his nine lives.”

“Then he needs to get a move on,” Blackfoot hissed.

“We have to attack!” Scorchwind declared. “We can’t let WindClan get away with this.”

Brokentail, who had been watching his father’s body vanish into the brambles, looked over his shoulder. “Vengeance can wait until we have grieved, Scorchwind,” he murmured wretchedly.

He seems further from launching an attack on WindClan than ever before, Yellowfang thought, not sure whether that was a good thing or not. Surely he wants to avenge Raggedstar’s death?

Returning to her den, she found Runningnose halfheartedly rolling more balls of moss for the store. “Do you think Brokentail even wants to be leader?” he asked, echoing Yellowfang’s own thoughts. “He’s only just become deputy.” He sighed. “It’s a big responsibility for him.”

“It will be difficult,” Yellowfang admitted, “but he is strong enough.” She added, “And he is not alone. We will be with him. He needs us to get him through this dark time.” Most of all, he needs his mother.

She left her den and went to find Brokentail. He wasn’t in the camp; guessing where he might be, Yellowfang padded through the brambles and discovered him beside the mound of earth where Raggedstar was buried. He was staring at the soil, one huge paw resting on the disturbed leaves.

“Brokentail, it’s time for you to come to the Moonstone with me,” Yellowfang mewed.

Brokentail started and looked up. “It’s too soon…” he protested.

Yellowfang shook her head. “You cannot leave your Clan without a leader.”

Brokentail hesitated, then took a deep breath. “Very well. I will do this for the Clan. For my Clan.”

He seemed sad and quiet as he padded at Yellowfang’s shoulder across the marshes. But when the WindClan tunnel came into sight he halted with a flash of fury in his eyes. “I will not set paw on the territory of that evil Clan,” he declared.

Yellowfang sighed. The journey would be even longer if they couldn’t go through WindClan. But she made no protest, just led the way farther up the Thunderpath until the moorland fell away behind them. They crossed beside a small cluster of Twoleg dens; Yellowfang worked her claws impatiently into the grass as she waited for a chance to race over the hard black surface between the snarling monsters. Their route took them across frostbitten fields where the grass was hard and cold under their paws. A bitter, icy wind blew into their faces. Brokentail plodded with his head down, the freezing gusts plastering his fur to his sides.

Darkness had fallen by the time they reached Mothermouth. Yellowfang led Brokentail down the long tunnel and into the cave, where dazzling light was already pouring from the Moonstone. As she waved her tail to beckon Brokentail closer, and showed him where to lie with his nose against the stone, she winced at the memory of her previous dream.

Please, StarClan, spare me from that.

But no shrieking, bloodstained kits met Yellowfang’s gaze as she woke within her dream. Instead she was standing on a bleak and windy stretch of marsh that might have been somewhere within ShadowClan territory. Looking around for Brokentail, Yellowfang saw that the quiet, grief-stricken cat of their journey had vanished. Now the tabby tom stood strong and erect, his kinked tail held high like a signal. His eyes shone and he quivered with excitement.

“Where are they?” he demanded. “My StarClan ancestors?”

Yellowfang glimpsed movement in the distance, and pointed with her tail to where a line of cats was advancing steadily over the marshes. A frosty glimmer came from their pelts, and the light of stars was in their eyes. Cedarstar was in the lead, with his deputy, Stonetooth, padding at his shoulder. Sagewhisker and Lizardfang were there too, and other cats Yellowfang didn’t know, though she recognized some of them as cats who had given lives to Raggedstar when he became Clan leader.

At first Yellowfang could only count eight cats, until she noticed that one of them was a tiny kit, skipping through the long grass in Cedarstar’s paw steps.

“My daughter… oh, my daughter,” she whispered.

She felt a moment’s surprise to see that Raggedstar was not among the nine. Surely he would want to give a life to his son? Then she told herself that Raggedstar’s spirit must still be traveling to StarClan. He will watch over Brokentail as he leads his Clan.

Cedarstar was the first of the nine cats to step forward. He bowed his head to Brokentail and meowed, “I give you a life to live by the warrior code. Remember it well, Brokentail, and let it be your guide. Wiser cats than you or I have lost their way without it.”

Yellowfang detected a veiled warning in his words, though Brokentail showed no loss of confidence as he touched noses with Cedarstar to receive the life. Yellowfang knew what agony the leader had to endure with each new life, but Brokentail gave little hint of the pain beyond a flaring of his nostrils and a twitch of his eyes.

Cedarstar stepped back into the circle of nine cats that had formed around Brokentail, and Stonetooth took his place. “I give you a life for duty,” he meowed. “Remember what you owe to your Clan as well as what your Clan owes to you.” He touched noses with Brokentail, who flexed his claws briefly and then was still.

The next StarClan warrior to step forward was Dawnstar, the former ShadowClan leader who had given a life to Raggedstar. “I give you a life for honor,” she told Brokentail. “Honor is expected from all cats, but most of all, from a Clan leader. Use the honor of leadership carefully.”

For the first time Brokentail showed emotion as he received his third life. His eyes closed as if he was in pain, and his claws dug hard into the earth. As the StarClan she-cat withdrew, Brokentail opened his eyes again and fixed her with a challenging gaze as if he blamed her for the torture of receiving her life, but Dawnstar did not react as she took her place once more in the circle.

The fourth cat stepped forward; Yellowfang didn’t know his name. He was a skinny gray tom, and he studied Brokentail carefully before he spoke. “I give you a life for truth. Without it, kin is set against kin, Clan against Clan. Hold fast to truth in all your dealings and let it guide your words.” The skinny tom hesitated before darting his head forward like a striking snake and touching Brokentail’s nose to give him his life.

As Yellowfang looked on from outside the circle of cats, she began to feel uneasy. All the lives Brokentail had received so far seemed to come with a warning, almost a threat, and she sensed a reluctance among the StarClan cats that was unlike anything she had experienced when she had accompanied Raggedstar to his ceremony.

Then she dismissed these thoughts with a lash of her tail. Brokentail was the Clan deputy, so he has to be the new leader. Even StarClan can’t change that, and why would they want to? Brokentail is a strong and loyal cat. When he has more experience he will be a great leader.

Lizardfang was the next warrior to come forward. Yellowfang rejoiced to see his frail limbs strong again, and his tabby pelt thick and healthy. “I give you a life for judgment,” he meowed. “ShadowClan stands at a place where the path ahead divides. Choose to follow the right path, for the good of your Clan.”

As Brokentail received his fifth life, instead of appearing unmoved, his limbs and his tail twitched as if they were briefly out of his control. He staggered at the touch of Lizardfang’s nose, recovering himself with an effort. Something huge, something overwhelming, seemed to hover around him, as if an unseen battle were going on in the very air he breathed.

Can he stand to receive four more lives? Yellowfang wondered. Then she saw the next cat in line and bit back a cry of pain. Oh, my precious love. I miss you with every beat of my heart.

Tail held high, Brokentail’s tiny sister pattered forward into the circle to stand beside him. “I give you a life for love of kin,” she mewed, the wisdom in her voice startling Yellowfang as it came from so small a body. “And as Clan leader, remember that every Clan cat is your kin.”

Brokentail had to bend his head to receive the life from the young kit. As their noses touched a spasm of agony shook him, and he closed his eyes, jerking his head aside as if for a heartbeat he had seen something he could not bear.

The seventh cat was a stranger to Yellowfang, a small brown tabby with a depth of gentleness in her eyes. “I give you a life for clear sight,” she meowed. “Brokentail, know yourself and your destiny, but know too that destiny can be changed if you choose the right path.”

Again Brokentail staggered as he received the new life. Yellowfang thought he looked exhausted. Yet throughout he hadn’t uttered the slightest sound of pain, not even a whimper.

The eighth cat, a plump black-and-white tom, had also given a life to Raggedstar. He padded up to Brokentail and spoke swiftly. “I give you a life for strength. This is the time you and your Clan will stand or fall. You need to be stronger than ever.”

What do they mean? Yellowfang wondered. So many of the cats had spoken of a divided path for ShadowClan, a time when decisions must be made about the destiny of all the cats. What are Brokentail’s choices, and will he make the right ones?

This time, when Brokentail received the life, he seemed to revive, as if the strength the tom had promised was already flowing into his limbs and his heart. With the end of the ceremony in sight, Yellowfang began to breathe more easily.

All this while, Sagewhisker had stood silently in the circle of cats, her gaze fixed on Brokentail. Now she stepped forward to give him his last life. “Brokentail, I give you a life for compassion. Use it to shelter the weakest in your Clan, the kits and elders and the sick. Use it to show mercy to your enemies and to choose the path your paw steps will follow.”

Yellowfang watched the spasm of pain rippling through Brokentail as Sagewhisker gave him his ninth life. For a moment she was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stay on his paws.

But the discomfort passed. As the nine cats acclaimed him by his new name, Brokenstar stood strong and proud again, his eyes gleaming as he heard the yowls rise up to the stars.

“Brokenstar! Brokenstar!”

As the yowling died away, he dipped his head. “My ancestors, I thank you,” he meowed solemnly. “I promise that I will make ShadowClan the strongest and most feared that it has ever been.”

The StarClan warriors began to fade, their outlines shimmering faintly with starlight until they vanished, leaving Yellowfang and Brokenstar alone in the bleak marshes.

Brokenstar turned to Yellowfang. “It is time to return,” he announced. His voice dropped to a savage snarl, and he lashed his tail. “It is time for vengeance!”

Dusk was falling by the time Yellowfang and Brokenstar returned to camp. Brokenstar raced across to the Clanrock and summoned the Clan together. “Let all cats join here beneath the Clanrock for a meeting!”

Yellowfang was surprised that he had left out the words “old enough to catch their own prey,” but guessed that he had forgotten. He’s new to this. He’ll get the words right when he’s had more practice.

Newtspeck emerged from the nursery with Littlekit, Wetkit, and Brownkit scampering around her feet. Featherstorm followed, but there was no sign of Mosskit, Volekit, or Dawnkit.

Brokenstar gazed down at Featherstorm with a disapproving expression. “Where are your kits? Fetch them at once!”

“But they’ve just gone to sleep!” Featherstorm protested. “And it’s very cold out here. Besides, they’re not old enough to catch their own prey and usually—”

Brokenstar cut her off. “Are they part of ShadowClan?” he growled. “Then get them!”

So he does want the kits here, Yellowfang thought. Why?

Featherstorm hesitated, anger clear in her eyes, but she could not hold Brokenstar’s gaze. She retreated into the nursery and reappeared a few heartbeats later, guiding her kits in front of her. All three stumbled sleepily into the open and collapsed into a bundle of fur close to their mother. Brokenstar gave Featherstorm a curt nod.

“I will not rest until WindClan has been punished, and until ShadowClan is feared by every cat in the forest,” he announced to his Clan. His voice rose to a roar. “They will bow down before us! From now on warriors will only fight and train for battle. Hunting is of little importance, and cats will have to find food where they can.”

He paused, but the Clan was silent; Yellowfang thought that shock—and perhaps a little fear—had closed their jaws as they exchanged uncertain glances.

“Meanwhile,” Brokenstar went on, “it is time for me to choose a deputy. I say these words before the spirits of my ancestors, that they may hear and approve my choice. Blackfoot will be the next deputy of ShadowClan.”

The big white warrior rose from his pace and walked to the Clanrock. His black paw looked like a shadow in the moonlight and his eyes shone with pride. “Brokenstar, your choice honors me,” he meowed. “I’ll do my best to serve you and our Clan well.”

Yellowfang felt the Clan relax around her. Blackfoot was popular. He hasn’t had an apprentice, but then, we haven’t had any kits ready to give him.

“Now,” Brokenstar went on, “I need an apprentice. Mosskit, step forward.”

“Wait!” Yellowfang, broke in. “He’s not old enough.”

“Quiet!” Brokenstar’s voice cut across mutters of agreement from other cats. “I am the leader and this is my decision.”

Featherstorm, clearly reluctant, prodded Mosskit awake. He was a big, healthy kit, but even so, Yellowfang knew he wasn’t ready to be an apprentice. He stepped forward, glancing around him uncertainly.

“From this time on,” Brokenstar announced, “you will be known as Mosspaw. I will be your mentor.” He jumped down from the Clanrock to touch noses with the little cat, who looked startled.

“That’s not fair!” Volekit complained, gazing at his brother with undisguised envy.

“That’s right!” Dawnkit agreed. “We’re just as old as he is!”

“I promise you will be made apprentices as soon as you’re as tall as your brother,” Brokenstar mewed. “Blackfoot will be your mentor, Dawnkit, and Clawface can have Volekit.”

At once Volekit arched his back and stood on his toes, as if he was trying to grow taller right away.

“Stop that!” Featherstorm snapped. “Your brother is too young to be an apprentice, and so are you.”

“But it’s a great honor,” Blackfoot assured her. “You should be proud.”

Newtspeck said nothing, just drew her kits closer to her with her tail.

Though some of the cats were still looking worried, Yellowfang could see that most of them thought it was a good idea.

“We don’t have any apprentices just now,” Wolfstep commented. “And we need to start training young cats.”

Flintfang nodded. “Mosspaw is big and strong. He’ll be fine.”

Runningnose padded up to Yellowfang and spoke into her ear. “I guess we’d better stock up on marigold for scratches.” His voice sounded concerned but resigned. “You’re looking troubled, but don’t be,” he went on. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see!” He paused, then added, “WindClan is going to regret killing Raggedstar, that’s for sure.”