Thunder and Shadow

  Violetpaw draped the last piece of dried moss inside the freshly woven bracken nest and sat back on her haunches to admire 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 says he can return to the elders’ den tomorrow,” Violetpaw told him. “I wanted him to be comfortable.” She glanced at Ratscar’s shabby nest. “I can make you a fresh nest tomorrow 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 murmured 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.

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

  Violetpaw hurried to join her mentor, her paws prickling with excitement as Rowanstar began to call the names of the cats who would travel with him to the island. “Tawnypelt, 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 hurrying 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 hurrying to join the others?

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

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

  Tigerheart and Tawnypelt jerked their muzzles 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 malevolently at Rowanstar.

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

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

  Rowanstar pushed between Tawnypelt 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 anything,” Rowanstar retorted. Tawnypelt 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 sympathetically. “If you want to air your 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 you.” 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 you.”

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

  Violetpaw’s heart lurched as she saw shadowy figures streaming into the clearing. She tasted rogue scent, and as the shapes moved 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, ashamed of her trembling 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 muscles 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 my dead body.”

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

  The rogue leader flung himself at Rowanstar.

  Violetpaw gasped.

  Rowanstar reared, but the force of Darktail’s attack pushed him back. Rowanstar’s hind legs trembled as he dug his paws into the earth and braced himself against the snarling rogue. Eyes 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 jerk, 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 muzzle. 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.

  Tawnypelt 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 Tawnypelt, and together they began stalking toward the glowering rogues, snarling. But then, suddenly, Tigerheart looked around and seemed to realize that he and Tawnypelt were the only cats moving to defend their leader. “Wait,” he hissed to Tawnypelt, 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, unmoving.

  Tigerheart and Tawnypelt 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 muzzle and darkened his neck fur. As he backed toward Dawnpelt, Violetpaw could see that he was trembling. Dawnpelt pressed against his flank to steady him. Tigerhe
art and Tawnypelt joined them, bunching close together like cornered mice.

  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 Tawnypelt followed. Violetpaw started after them, Dawnpelt at her side.

  Spikefur curled his lip. “If you go,” he reminded 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 you.”

  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 yourself if your mother died because you left?” He leaned closer to Puddleshine. “If any of your 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 grimly.

  Puddleshine dropped his gaze. “I can’t leave,” he murmured. “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 me and Juniperclaw?”

  Violetpaw felt Dawnpelt stiffen beside her, but her mentor could hardly meet 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 murmured. “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 mentor’s gaze.

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

  The ShadowClan leader turned away, dismay darkening his eyes. Lifting his tail, he barged between the rogues and ducked through the tunnel. Tigerheart and Tawnypelt 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 you’d stay. Please don’t leave me again!”

  Violetpaw met Needletail’s pleading gaze. Even as her paws tingled with eagerness to leave, the fact that Needletail wanted her to stay warmed a place deep inside her. “You don’t need me. You have plenty of friends here.” Her gaze flashed to Rain. “And you have him.”

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

  My kin. She’d felt the same 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 you came. 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 loyal to you as I have been. We’re like kin now. Can you say that about any other cat you’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 muzzle to Violetpaw’s cheek, Violetpaw breathed in her scent. It felt good. She turned her back on the entrance through which Rowanstar, Tigerheart, and Tawnypelt had disappeared and gazed at her new Clan.

  CHAPTER 23

  Twigpaw shifted her paws nervously. Countless scents washed over her, and the chatter of voices wasn’t helping to calm her anxiety. Would Violetpaw come to the Gathering? Guilt still pricked her belly each time she remembered leaving the ShadowClan camp, Violetpaw staring desperately after her.

  Beside her, Wavepaw looked around. The RiverClan apprentice’s eyes were wide as she, Nightpaw, and Breezepaw took in the scene. “It’s our first Gathering.”

  Honeypaw sniffed. “I’ve been to plenty.”

  Wavepaw’s sister shifted closer as Brindlepaw and Fernpaw padded toward them. “I didn’t realize there’d be so many cats here,” she breathed.

  “Don’t worry, Cypresspaw.” Wavepaw nuzzled his sister’s ear. “There’s a truce, remember? We’re safe here.”

  “Hello!” Brindlepaw stopped and blinked at Wavepaw. “You’re new, right?”

  Wavepaw nodded.

  Honeypaw barged in front of him.

  “I met them first,” Honeypaw boasted.

  “So?” Brindlepaw glared at her.

  Twigpaw swiveled her ears toward the long grass, hoping to hear paws hurrying toward the clearing. WindClan, ThunderClan, and RiverClan were here. But where was ShadowClan? Were they going to be late again?

  Bramblestar and Mistystar were talking at the foot of the great oak. Onestar was already seated on the branch above them. His gaze was cast down, as though he was avoiding the eyes of the other Clans. Twigpaw wondered if he felt guilty for having withheld lungwort from ShadowClan.

  Is that why they weren’t here? Were too many cats sick? The worry that had been nagging in Twigpaw’s belly since she’d left the ShadowClan camp suddenly hardened. What if Violetpaw was sick? She tried to push the thought away, but then she pictured her sister looking after her Clanmates in the medicine den. She could have easily caught the illness. Twigpaw remembered grimly how sick the cats had been. Had Oakfur died? Or Wasptail? Or the others? What about Violetpaw?

  Guilt surged through Twigpaw’s pelt as she remembered the hurt in her sister’s eyes when she’d left. I had to go! You are my kin, but ThunderClan is my home! She’d hoped for a chance to explain to Violetpaw that they would always be sisters even if they lived in different Clans, but what if she never got that chance?

  She glanced at Alderpaw, who sat between Leafpool and Jayfeather. Would he go check on ShadowClan if they didn’t show up at the Gathering? Perhaps he’d let her go with him.

  Honeypaw’s mew broke into Twigpaw’s thoughts. “Wavepaw says that RiverClan kits learn to swim before they become ’paws.”

  “No way!” Brindlepaw exclaimed. “Don’t they drown?”

  Wavepaw snorted with amusement. “RiverClan cats are born to swim.”

  Brindlepaw’s eyes widened. “I hate getting my fur wet.”

  Twigpaw gazed at them distractedly. She was only half listening. Her thoughts were still on her sister.

  Honeypaw blinked at the RiverClan apprentices. “I’ve never even stood in a river.”

  Wavepaw shrugged. “You should try it,” she mewed. “Rivers are fun. And fish tas
te delicious.”

  Cypresspaw looked shyly at Honeypaw. “We can teach you to swim if you like.”

  Honeypaw shuddered. “No, thanks!”

  Wavepaw’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Are you scared?” He nodded toward the trees. Beyond them, the lake glittered in the moonlight.

  Honeypaw fluffed out her fur. “Of course not. But it’s too cold.”

  “No it’s not!” Wavepaw headed through the crowd toward the trees. “Come on.”

  Honeypaw followed.

  “You can’t!” Alarm jerked Twigpaw from her thoughts. She hurried after them. “The Gathering’s going to start in a moment.”

  Honeypaw stared at her. “But ShadowClan isn’t even here yet.”

  As she spoke, Onestar’s mew rang across the clearing. “I’m tired of waiting. Let’s start the meeting.”

  Mistystar and Bramblestar exchanged glances and scrambled up the oak, taking their places beside the WindClan leader.

  Bramblestar’s gaze flicked toward the long grass, as though he was hoping that ShadowClan might appear. Then he blinked down at the Clans as the cats drew closer. “Newleaf has brought more prey and fine weather. ThunderClan has thrived.” He turned to Mistystar, dipping his head.

  “Prey is running well in RiverClan. And, as you see, we have two new apprentices, Wavepaw and Cypresspaw.”

  The two young cats shifted self-consciously as the Clans turned to look at them.

  As Onestar leaned forward, ready to address the gathered cats, the long grass rustled.

  Twigpaw jerked her gaze toward it, her heart skipping a best. ShadowClan? Would Violetpaw be with them? She watched Rowanstar pad into the clearing. As Tawnypelt and Tigerheart followed, she strained to see others behind them, but no cat followed the three ShadowClan warriors.

  Pelts ruffled anxiously around Twigpaw as Rowanstar stopped at the edge of the crowd and looked up at Bramblestar. “We come alone,” he meowed curtly.

  Twigpaw saw tufts of fur sticking from his pelt. Blood had dried on his muzzle. He’d been fighting! Her gaze flitted to Tawnypelt and Tigerheart. They looked unharmed. What had happened to the ShadowClan leader?