Page 6 of Shattered Sky


  Rowanstar’s only response was a bad-tempered snort. He sat down again, his tail twitching to and fro.

  “I think you’re all wrong!” Ivypool had risen now; Twigpaw was surprised by the depth of passion in her voice. “I’d like to find Twigpaw’s kin as much as any cat, but we can’t be sure that the cat Alderheart saw is connected to her. And right now we’re in the middle of a fight with the rogues. They’ve taken over ShadowClan; what if they come for us next? ThunderClan doesn’t have any responsibility to SkyClan—we owe no Clan anything, and I think we should focus on our own problems right now. It’s not like any of the Clan cats who originally drove SkyClan out of the forest are still around.”

  Twigpaw’s excitement ebbed away, leaving behind a vast well of hurt and confusion. Ivypool’s my mentor. I thought she would always have my back. Why is she turning against me like this?

  “Ivypool’s right,” Poppyfrost meowed. “This is no time to weaken our Clan by sending warriors away.”

  “Yes.” Thornclaw spoke up from where he sat at the entrance to the nursery. “If the rogues attack us here, what’s going to happen to my kits?”

  “Can we afford to help SkyClan when we’re in such danger ourselves?” Cherryfall added.

  Twigpaw felt even more hurt that more cats were agreeing with Ivypool. Don’t they understand how important this is—not just for me, but for the whole Clan? Her belly felt as hollow as if she hadn’t eaten for a moon. “But what about me?” she asked suddenly, without really planning to. Several stunned faces turned toward her—some having the decency to look a bit guilty. “Don’t I have the right to find my kin, if they’re out there?”

  Lilyheart, her foster mother, stepped forward and looked at Twigpaw with sympathy. “Of course you do, Twigpaw,” she said gently. “But”—Twigpaw felt a pang in her heart with that but—“when you’re part of a Clan, you must put your needs aside for the good of the Clan. Perhaps right now is not the best time for you to look for your kin.”

  Twigpaw could feel her ears turning hot with embarrassment and hurt. She looked down at the ground, unable to believe that her Clanmates were seriously going to prevent her from finding her kin. When the discussion had continued for a few moments more, Bramblestar took a pace forward and raised one paw for silence. “I’ve heard the arguments on both sides now,” he began. “Alderheart, I’m grateful that you’ve shared your vision with us. Eventually I mean for us to do everything we can to help these cats. And Twigpaw, I do understand how important it is for you to find your kin—someday. But the Clan has spoken, and I agree with the majority of our warriors. For now, we must put our own safety first. We will not go to look for SkyClan.” He raised his paw again to cut off protests from Dovewing and Tigerheart. “We need all our warriors to stay on ThunderClan territory until we know what the rogues are going to do next. Alderheart, let me know if you have any more visions.”

  Bramblestar turned away and went back into his den, followed by Squirrelflight. The three medicine cats made their way down the tumbled rocks, while the rest of the Clan began to disperse.

  For a moment, Twigpaw couldn’t move at all. She felt utterly miserable and betrayed, as if she were sitting at the center of a gray storm cloud. Then she spotted Ivypool heading toward her with a look of concern and apology on her face. But Twigpaw didn’t want to talk to any cat. She rose to her paws, turned her back on Ivypool, and limped away.

  First Violetpaw, then Ivypool, and then Lilyheart, she thought wretchedly. Now I know for certain: I can’t expect any cat to be on my side. . . .

  CHAPTER 6

  “Tell me again.” Needletail’s voice was taut with desperation. “Tell me again what happened.”

  Violetpaw flinched. She didn’t want to revisit the horror of what she had witnessed in Puddleshine’s den, but she knew that she had to tell her friend the truth.

  “Rain tried to kill Darktail while he lay injured,” she replied. “He pressed down on top of him and tried to stop his breathing. He thought he’d done it, but when he turned his back, Darktail reared up and . . . and he clawed out his throat.” Her voice shook, and she had to make a massive effort to continue. “I’m sorry, Needletail, but Darktail was only defending himself, just like he told every cat. And he defended me, too,” she added. “I’m sure Rain would have killed me, because I saw what he tried to do.”

  Needletail didn’t reply; she just crouched at the foot of a pine tree, looking miserable.

  “I know how much you cared about Rain,” Violetpaw went on. “And I know that this must be very hard for you. Come on,” she mewed, trying to encourage Needletail. “Let’s go on looking for prey. You know Darktail wanted us to bring back as much as we can find, and we’ve already caught quite a bit. You’re such a terrific hunter, I’m sure you can find more.”

  Needletail’s neck fur began to bristle. “I don’t want to catch prey because Darktail says so,” she muttered.

  “But it’s important for us to show our loyalty to the Kin right now,” Violetpaw pointed out.

  Needletail glanced up, alarm in her green eyes. “Do you think Darktail doubts my loyalty?” she asked.

  Violetpaw shook her head. “No.” I hope he doesn’t, she added silently to herself.

  With a sigh, Needletail rose to her paws and headed farther into the trees. Violetpaw followed her, ears pricked for the sound of prey, parting her jaws to taste the air. A few heartbeats later, Needletail halted and angled her ears toward a spot where the ground fell away into a small hollow; at the bottom, ferns grew around a pool. Violetpaw saw the ferns twitching slightly, just before she picked up the scent of vole.

  Needletail dropped into the hunter’s crouch and crept silently forward, her paws seeming to float over the ground, her sleek, silver-gray pelt no more than a drifting shadow. When she reached the top of the hollow, she launched herself into an enormous pounce. As she dived into the ferns, Violetpaw heard a thin shriek of terror, abruptly cut off. Needletail emerged with the limp body of the vole in her jaws.

  “Great catch!” Violetpaw mewed admiringly.

  “It’ll do,” Needletail mumbled around her prey.

  As she and Needletail headed back to where they had left the rest of their prey hidden under pine needles, Violetpaw was glad that Needletail had agreed to keep hunting. She knew the truth was that Needletail was too scared of the rogue leader to do anything else.

  I’m scared of him too, Violetpaw thought, even though he’s only been nice to me since I backed up his story about how Rain died.

  She couldn’t ignore how Darktail looked coldly at Needletail every time the young she-cat crossed his path, and how, in spite of her usual impudence, Needletail hadn’t twitched a whisker against his orders since Rain’s death.

  Violetpaw stifled a sigh. Things had changed in camp after that day. Darktail seemed more suspicious and unfriendly toward every cat. Her paws tingled with apprehension every time he turned that brooding, cold look on Needletail.

  It’s obvious: because Needletail was so close to Rain, Darktail thinks that she might—or will—betray him just as Rain did. What if Needletail is the next cat he strikes down?

  Violetpaw wished that she could help her friend, but she had no idea what to do, except to try to keep Darktail happy with them both. Her fur prickled at the sense of trouble approaching, like a storm cloud swelling on the horizon, ready to release something terrible on the Kin.

  She and Needletail were padding alongside a small stream, on their way to their prey cache, when Violetpaw spotted movement among the vegetation that overhung the water. The scent of frog flowed into her jaws. Almost without thinking, she flashed a paw down into the clump of plants and drew it up again with the frog wriggling on her claws. Swiftly she killed it with a bite to its neck.

  “Good job,” Needletail commented. “And now we really do have to take our prey back to camp. We’ll need to make two trips as it is.”

  Violetpaw’s heart grew a little lighter as she followed Needletail thro
ugh the trees, all the prey she could carry dangling from her jaws. I’d never tell Needletail this, she thought, but I always thought that Rain was a little bit . . . scary. And Darktail only killed him because he had to. And at least it happened before Rain could get Needletail into serious trouble. She hoped that she could help Needletail keep her head down until Darktail wasn’t suspicious of her anymore. Then we’ll both be safe, and everything might be okay.

  When they reached the ShadowClan camp, more cats were approaching from the opposite direction. Roach and Thistle were escorting three cats Violetpaw had never seen before. All three were plump, with glossy pelts, and they were eyeing their surroundings nervously as they entered the camp.

  Violetpaw exchanged a shocked glance with Needletail. “Those are kittypets!” she exclaimed.

  “Do Roach and Thistle have bees in their brain, bringing them here?” Needletail muttered.

  Padding across the camp to drop her prey on the fresh-kill pile, Violetpaw saw Darktail emerge from his den, and she braced herself for an explosion of anger. She was grateful that neither she nor Needletail would be the ones in trouble this time.

  But to Violetpaw’s astonishment, Darktail bounded across the camp and dipped his head to the kittypets. “Greetings,” he meowed. “Welcome to our camp.”

  What? Darktail actually wants kittypets here?

  Violetpaw could see that the ShadowClan warriors weren’t as pleased as Darktail to see the newcomers. They crowded around with expressions of shock and annoyance.

  “What’s going on?” Pinenose asked Darktail. “What are kittypets doing on our territory?”

  “Come on, Pinenose.” Darktail’s tone was light, but Violetpaw thought she could detect an underlying menace. “Don’t be so unfriendly. These are our guests. And the Kin here will always be kind to guests, won’t they?”

  Violetpaw willed her foster mother not to argue, and to her relief, Pinenose had the sense to back down. “I guess so,” she muttered.

  The rest of the ShadowClan warriors had gotten the message, too; no other cat protested about the kittypets’ presence in camp.

  Darktail beckoned with his tail for his cats to gather around him, then raised his voice to address them. “As the cats living on the territories around us—the so-called Clan cats—have proved so hostile, and attacked us—”

  Violetpaw spotted some of the ShadowClan cats exchanging glances at the rogue leader’s words, but none of them made any comments.

  “—I’ve decided that the Kin could use some friends from the Twolegplace,” Darktail continued. “And here they are. We’ve promised them hunting lessons and adventure; they’ll see what fun it is to live with us.” His glance raked across the cats around him. “I’m sure that all of you will show them a good time,” he purred.

  A good time? Violetpaw felt thoroughly alarmed. She was sure that whatever Darktail intended, showing kittypets a good time was the last thing on his mind.

  “Come and introduce yourselves,” Darktail invited, waving his tail at the kittypets to encourage them to come forward.

  A young black tom glanced around shyly and ducked his head. “My name’s Loki.”

  “And I’m Zelda.” An even younger tabby she-cat—she looked around the same age as Violetpaw—gave an eager little bounce as she spoke. “It’s great to be here!”

  “And I’m called Max.” An older black-and-white tom stepped forward, puffing out his chest. “Those other wild cats had better not mess with you while I’m around.”

  “It was so exciting when Roach invited us here,” Loki mewed, with a grateful glance at the silver-gray tom.

  “Yes, we’ve heard stories about the cats who live around the lake from our friend Minty,” Zelda added. “But we never thought we’d meet you, and we wanted to, so much! Minty stayed here when her housefolk’s den was flooded, and she said she’d never had so much fun in her life.”

  “Well,” Darktail meowed cheerfully, “I think that we should swear a promise of friendship, to protect each other from the wild cats—the vicious wild cats—by the lake.”

  The visiting cats looked surprised, but they didn’t protest, and willingly followed Darktail to the center of the camp. Violetpaw’s sense of unease was growing. It was obvious that Darktail didn’t just want to make friends with these kittypets. She wondered whether any other cat could detect the underlying menace in his words.

  “Now, say this after me,” Darktail began. “‘I swear to be a friend to the Kin . . . to share what I have with them . . . to defend them and help them and be one with them . . . for as long as I live.’”

  The three cats repeated the phrases Darktail spoke. Zelda’s voice in particular rang out clearly, as if she meant every word she said. Violetpaw wondered whether she had any idea of what she was promising.

  “Now we ought to seal the pact with blood,” Darktail announced.

  The three kittypets exchanged alarmed glances, shifting from paw to paw as their shoulder fur began to bristle. “I don’t know about that . . . ,” Max began.

  “Only a drop,” Raven reassured them. “It won’t hurt at all.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, all three kittypets nodded agreement, though Max still looked doubtful. Violetpaw wondered whether Darktail’s rogues had been through this ritual. It was so different from the warrior ceremonies of the Clan cats.

  Each kittypet in turn raised a forepaw, and Darktail lightly pierced one of their pads with his claw. Each of them winced, and Loki let out a squeal of surprise, but it was soon over, and Raven had told the truth: it was only a drop of blood, and as they licked their paws the three kittypets’ eyes were still shining with enthusiasm.

  “Each of you must have a guide to show you around,” Darktail meowed. “Raven, I want you to look after Max. Sleekwhisker, you can take charge of Loki. And . . .” He hesitated, then gave Violetpaw a nod. “Yes. Violetpaw . . . I think you and Zelda might have fun together,” he told her.

  Surprised, Violetpaw exchanged a glance with Needletail, wondering why Darktail had chosen her. Then she stepped up to stand next to the kittypet.

  Violetpaw took Zelda with her to collect the remaining prey that she and Needletail had caught earlier, then spent the rest of the day showing her around what had once been ShadowClan territory. Together they climbed a tree that overlooked the Twolegplace, and Zelda tried to work out which of the Twoleg nests was hers. She warned Violetpaw about big dogs who lived in one of the nests nearby. Violetpaw asked her what a dog looked like, since she’d never seen one herself, and Zelda told her of a savage, slobbering brute whose housefolk seemed unable to control it. It loved to chase cats, she said. “Luckily, he’s too heavy to catch us!”

  Violetpaw thanked her for the warning, even as she thought: I hope I don’t ever have to get too close to a dog. She tried to teach the kittypet some hunting techniques, and was impressed by how attentively Zelda listened. She might have made a good apprentice. Even though Zelda didn’t catch any prey, and didn’t seem to know anything, she never lost her enthusiasm or good humor. Violetpaw found she was enjoying their time together. I feel so sorry for her, she thought. It must be so boring, being a kittypet.

  Still, Violetpaw realized that there were worse things than being bored. We’re having fun now. . . . I could almost stop worrying about what Darktail is up to. But the apprehension that was gnawing at her belly wouldn’t entirely go away.

  Finally Violetpaw led Zelda back to camp and brought her back to the fresh-kill pile so they could eat together.

  “I’ve never eaten an animal before,” Zelda mewed, tucking in enthusiastically to the shrew she had chosen. “I love it!”

  Violetpaw’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you eat, then?” she asked. “Grass, like the cows Needletail told me about?”

  Zelda let out a mrrow of laughter. “No, my housefolk give me hard pellets to eat. They’re pretty tasty, but not as delicious as this shrew!”

  Pellets? Violetpaw thought. Weird . . . and gross.
It must be like eating mouse droppings. She wished Zelda didn’t have to go back, and could stay with the Kin always and be her friend. But she’s a kittypet, and a kittypet is better off with her Twolegs.

  As Violetpaw was finishing the blackbird she had taken from the fresh-kill pile, Max and Loki padded up, escorted by Raven.

  “Help yourselves,” the rogue meowed, waving her tail at the pile.

  “Thanks!” Max replied, dragging out a vole and starting to gulp it down. “’S good!” he exclaimed around a huge mouthful.

  Loki was more hesitant, but after an encouraging prod from Zelda he began nibbling cautiously at a mouse. Raven watched for a few heartbeats, then withdrew to talk to Darktail, who was standing a few tail-lengths away.

  “Have you had a good day?” Zelda asked the two other kittypets. “Violetpaw showed me everything! It was fantastic!”

  Max nodded. “I’ve had fun.”

  “I never knew how many of you there were,” Loki added. “And you have such a great place to live. I’m glad that we got to see it.”

  “Now we’ve got stories to tell Minty!” Zelda mewed with a wave of her tail.

  “But we ought to be going now.” Max sounded reluctant as he swallowed the last of his vole. “It’s starting to get dark, and our housefolk will be looking for us.”

  Loki gave a sharp mew. “Mine will probably try to feed me when I get back, but I’m so full already.”

  Zelda gave a nod. “I’m still going to eat. Whenever I don’t, my housefolk get so worried. They just . . . stare at me. I never like it when they do.”

  Relief crept through Violetpaw like the sky paling toward dawn. If the kittypets go now, then nothing bad will have happened to them.

  “It was great, showing you around,” she meowed to Zelda. “Maybe I’ll come find you in the Twolegplace sometime.”

  “That would be—” Zelda began enthusiastically, then broke off as Darktail loomed up beside her.