Chapter One
"Is Hawkstar any better?"
"No better, but no worse, either."
Bearclaw dipped his head, a gesture of both thanks and resignation, as Mossfur turned her blue eyes from him and went back to her medicine cat duties, dark gray pelt rippling with tensed muscles. He exited her den, feeling worry twisting his stomach into knots.
It seemed that all he'd been doing ever since becoming deputy was worrying.
Worrying over Hawkstar, who had fallen ill just one night ago, as they had returned from the Gathering. Worrying over Perchstar, who had threatened WindClan with war upon discovering her youngest cats missing. Worrying over Maplepool, for so many more reasons than anyone else would expect.
Regardless of how much he detested the idea of walking to his death, he would give anything to be on his way to the Moon Tunnels with her, where he could do something about his worries besides just worrying. He couldn't help Hawkstar; he couldn't stop Perchstar from starting a war. He could try and be a good leader in the dark tabby's place, try to protect his Clan best as he could, but those were abstract concepts compared to just looking out for his sister and being by her side.
If Bearclaw was being perfectly honest, he'd been so, so tempted to run away with Maplepool yesterday at the Gathering. Let me go, too! The words had had lingered on his tongue, very tantalizingly possible.
But he had a duty to WindClan.
He was no traitor.
Once again, the striped tom found himself wondering if keeping Darkstar's secret was the right thing to do. He'd seen ShadowClan's leader with his own two eyes, gathering up all the cats and taking them away. Surely, the black cat's Clan was stronger than his own right now, and could deal with an attack from RiverClan.
Darkstar looked me in the eye and trusted me. Am I going to betray him? Would it be a betrayal to WindClan, to not betray him? What do I do?
He had a great amount of respect for the leader, but that shouldn't been anything, not when the stakes were so high.
RiverClan radiated power. Early in the morning, when WindClan had just started to sleep after the Gathering, a bristling, fishy-smelling patrol of cats had been bold enough to enter their camp, bearing a message from their leader. Their youngest cats, Grassfur and Cloudtuft, were missing; ThunderClan had reported to them the disappearance of their own chosen cat, Stonefall.
Bearclaw's stomach churned.
I need fresh air.
What if we're attacked while I'm gone?
Not that his prescence would make much difference. He was young, strong, but still only one cat; Hawkstar was on his last life and Bearclaw was pretty sure he'd never get his own nine, given the situation with the Moon Tunnels. Normally, after receiving the blessing of StarClan, any warrior named deputy would gain nine lives the moment they have leader lost his or her last, automatically, as if by magic. But, of course, Bearclaw had never been to the tunnels, and he didn't know how it would work in such a case.
I went off on my own all the time before I was a warrior. A deputy. WindClan is weakened, but not that weak...
The brown cat was making to tell Finchmask he'd be away when a small, sandy-colored blur skidded up to him.
"Bearclaw-ShadowClan-leader-wants-to-see-you," panted the little apprentice. Mallowpaw.
He had obviously run as quickly as he could, which was quite a considerable speed for a seven-moon-old.
"Where?" Bearclaw asked immediately, heart beginning to pound. A million questions raced like frenzied hares across his mind, but he couldn't find one to focus on, and most of them could be answered later.
"Left him at the border, told him to wait there!" The beige cat's chest heaved and he tossed himself melodramatically on the cool moorland, his quest complete. Bearclaw would have liked to talk to him, but that could wait, and Darkstar couldn't. He spared the apprentice a "good job, Malllow" and dashed off towards the ShadowClan border.
As he got closer to the border, he considered slowing down, not wanting to show any weakness. By the time he could see the black figure of a cat outlined against the pine trees, he had changed his gait to a walk with a fake-it-til-you-make-it kind of confidence that he'd been using a little too often recently.
Act well. You represent all of WindClan.
"Good to see you again, Bearclaw."
Bearclaw felt a shiver ripple down his pelt, not from Darkstar's friendly greeting, but from the realization that everyone knew his name, including the ShadowClan leader. It should have been fairly obvious, but the thought had never actually crossed the tom's mind until now, and it alarmed him.
Cats know me.
"Greetings, Darkstar," he said, brushing off the idea the way he brushed off all of the other responsibilities regarding himself. It could be postponed for when he actually had the time to focus on his own wellbeing, which might very well be never at this point. "What business do you have with WindClan?" The formal words felt stiff and foregin coming out of his mouth; it was very much not-Bearclaw, and hopefully very much what a future leader should be like.
"I fear I've placed you in a difficult situation— and WindClan in jeopardy," the black cat said briskly, his gray eyes hardening with a serious light. "I'd like to offer an apology, as well as a thank you. I believe you understood, last night, that the situation required speed and relied on cooperation."
Bearclaw twitched his ears. I'm not sure how cooperative I'm feeling. If you get that WindClan is in danger because of me, wouldn't it be reasonable of me to out you to RiverClan? "Is that all?" Why bring me out here for that?
"All the Clans have heard of Perchstar's threat," Darkstar said. "ShadowClan offers WindClan its alliance and full strength in case of an attack. It's the least we can do for you."
Slightly taken aback, Bearclaw managed to say, "No, that's plenty. Thank you." Then he wondered if he had accepted too quickly and made WindClan look weak because he hadn't put up a fight about it.
He hated this, having to second-guess everything he did, having to wear a face that wasn't him. He missed his freedom.
"My best wishes to Hawkstar and all of you," meowed ShadowClan's leader, turning to leave."
"Wait—" Bearclaw started, allowing himself a brief moment of just-for-me. "Are they safe? On their way?"
"As far as I know," the black cat responded, knowing exactly who 'they' were. "I sent them north. They disguised their scents, but I assure you they were safe the entire time they were in ShadowClan's land."
Bearclaw thanked Darkstar again, feeling only slightly better.
"And Bearclaw?"
His paws had been shifting back to WindClan's camp, but he paused with a flick of his ears to show that he was listening.
"If you intend to to tell RiverClan who was really behind the disappearances, I can't blame you. We all seek to protect our cats."
Silence. He heard the quietest of shuffling as the other cat slipped back into the shadows of his forest. Bearclaw blinked a few times and turned around, starting his trek back home.
I don't think I will tell them.
RiverClan, no matter how strong they were compared to WindClan, would not be able to take on two Clans. He doubted ThunderClan would ally with the angry Perchstar; no one wanted to start a whole, four-Clan war in the middle of leaf-bare when they had too many senior cats and no apprentices at all.
Well, there's Mallowpaw.
He was fairly sure that Mallowpaw was the only apprentice in all four Clans, but it was possible that the others were hiding their own, especially now. Last night marked the first Gathering where not all the come-of-age cats had gone to the Moon Tunnels. It was a downward slope; soon, he suspected, no cats would go at all. The backlash from RiverClan, however, meant that the other Clans would be secretive about breaking tradition if they chose to do so.
New-leaf would come soon; with it, maybe kits, if parents wouldn't fear losing their children anymore.
What in the world was he going to do with Mallowpaw?
The apprentice was so enthusiastic, so ready and starry-eyed over the idea of going to the Moon Tunnels, so optimistic in his inexperience. All young cats went through that stage, Bearclaw suspected; he certainly had.
Had Maplepool?
He pushed the thought of his sister out of his mind.
She was gone.
Mallowpaw was free.
Mallowkit, just around one and a half moons, had come to WindClan when Bearpaw, seven-moon-old Bearpaw, was at camp and Maplepaw was away. Bearpaw had nearabout torn up the entire camp when he saw the little sand-colored bundle in the nursery. A warrior, out of the many who had no idea what the scrap was going on about, had kindly redirected him to Hawkstar's den, where his efforts —whatever they were— might be more successful.
"You've got to hide Mallowkit, Hawkstar, you've just got to!"
The dark tabby regarded the frenetic apprentice apathetically. It had been four seasons since his daughter, Hazelpaw, had gone to the Moon Tunnels and never returned; two seasons since his mate had died by the jaws of a fox. His grief consumed him, and he barely knew who it was that was in front of him and spouting terrified words.
"And why should I?" he asked at last.
"The kit looks just like him! Once his eyes start changing from blue, they'll turn amber, I swear they will, and he'll be just the splitting image of his father. Maplepaw won't be able to— she can't take it. I don't think she can take it." He was panicky, frustrated, fearful.
"She is rebellious, yes, but not insane, Bearpaw. What do appearances have to do with anything?"
But Bearpaw choked on the words he tried to speak and drowned under the millions and billions of thoughts about his sister that he tried to get in order. She was so fragile, and only he could see...
"Please, just, oh, I'll take care of him! I promise he'll live a full life. It's only about five more moons until we go to the tunnels and then he'll be just normal; he'd be a kit this whole time, anyway, it's not that bad."
Hawkstar seemed to consider.
"Very well. I'll admit I don't want to deal with Sandstripe's messes, now or ever. WindClan's deputy is eager to serve, at least, a little too much at times."
Bearpaw hid a frown. "Eager to serve" was not exactly how he would describe Sandstripe, but he pushed that detail aside in his hope. "So...?"
"So I'll tell the Clan to keep Maplepaw away from the nursery and not to talk about the kit to her, or if she's around, if you put up with the kit. He doesn't have any family save for Sandstripe himself, and he'll be busy with deputy work... the responsibility is on you now."
"Yes, sir! Thank you."
Hawkstar had been true to his word; Bearclaw hoped he was to his. Looking back on it, he wondered why the leader had agreed, why the Clan had listened, all on the words of one apprentice. To be fair, it hadn't been hard, since it wasn't like Maplepaw ever went into the nursery by choice. The more difficult part was making sure all the questioning but compliant warriors didn't accidentally slip up when she was nearby, and making sure that Mallowkit, who grew more energetic each day, didn't get seen by her.
Maplepool had wandered a lot, too, as an 'paw.
Still, it was surprisingly easy to do Mallowpaw's apprentice ceremony last moon, during which she had been sent off to gather herbs. He still had to sleep in the nursery, but now he could be in the open clearing with the rest of them, under the stars.
I need to talk to him, the tom thought, picking up his pace. I hope I've been there for him enough these moons. Things can only get better.
He sudddenly felt very alone. He had no one to share his trials and tribulations with, no one to listen, no one to stand by him. Even when Maplepool had been with him, he'd kept most things to himself in favor of focusing on her. He carried burdens on his shoulders, had been doing it for as long as he could remember; he held more secrets than he cared to keep that no one else in WindClan could know; he was completely and utterly alone, now more than ever.
He wondered if the other cats of his age felt this way. RiverClan had brothers, who probably had a perfectly normal relationship; he couldn't imagine the little ShadowClan cat's life, though, growing up with not a single peer. ThunderClan had siblings, but one was gone and the other remained, and he wondered how she was faring. She wasn't deputy, nor did she have a sick leader...
Bearclaw reached camp around sunhigh, crossing paths with a patrol that had left. They exchanged brief, polite words.
"Hey, Bearclaw!" Breezewing, leader of the patrol, greeted him with a tilt of her white head. The other cats —older warriors, Snowleap and Haretail— murmured their own hellos, with friendly tail twitches.
"Hey! I was just at the ShadowClan border, so no need to go there; straight onto ThunderClan works fine." It might save some much-needed energy, especially in this cold weather.
"Got it, thanks."
He waved them off and entered camp. A quick scan of the area showed him the cat he was looking for, sitting idly and grooming himself.
"Mallowpaw?"
When the little cat looked up, he looked completely like Sandstripe and completely not at all at the same time. They had the same pale grayish-brown shade of fur, the same darker striped markings down to the faint lines on their cheeks, the same amber eyes that reflected Bearclaw's own.
But Mallowpaw was Mallowpaw, kitten-fluff-around-the-face Mallowpaw, bighearted, goofy-smiling gentle-at-the-edges Mallowpaw, and that in itself made him look worlds different from WindClan's late deputy.
"Bearclaw!" Now Mallowpaw bounced to his feet and ran to him, tail swishing and eyes bright. "What'd the Darkstar want? Are we going to fight ShadowClan up too?" He shot the questions rapid-fire at Bearclaw, who took a moment to decipher them. When the apprentice grew excited, he tended to mix up his words; the Darkstar was probably a mash-up of the leader and Darkstar, while fight ShadowClan up could be fight ShadowClan and beat them up. It was as if he intended on saying one thing and edited it after it was actually out of his mouth, with no clarification.
"We are not going to beat ShadowClan up," Bearclaw informed him sternly. "Darkstar is a respectable cat. He's offered his help should RiverClan attack."
Mallowpaw wrinkled his nose, pausing in his excited movements. "Help? Pfff, we don't need any help!" He was sparking wih excitement from head to toe. Bearclaw sighed inwardly, wondering how to point out to him that they probably very much needed help.
"We probably do," he said straight out, "and we'll appreciate it regardless because ShadowClan is willing to risk their lives for us."
"All right, Bearclaw." Then he was moving again, sinking his claws into a stray blade of moor-grass and shredding it as if imagining it was an enemy cat.
"Leave all that stuff to me and Hawkstar, anyway." If Hawkstar ever gets well enough to deal with it. "I just wanted to talk to you about... stuff."
"Ooh, I like stuff," Mallowpaw supplied gleefully. "Stuff is better'n no stuff!"
Bearclaw squashed a snort at the apprentice's logic. "What do you want to do when you come of age, Mallowpaw?"
"Go to the Moon Tunnels, of course, what else is there—" the pale cat paused, blinked rapidly, apparently realized there was a "what else" standing right in front of him, and changed the course of his sentence to "—I mean, I guess I could stay here, but I wanna go to the tunnels so I can be the first cat to make it back!" He puffed out his chest.
"The journey is for at least eight cats," Bearclaw pointed out dryly. "Last I noticed, you were one."
"The first to make it back all alone! Because I bet Maplepool will come back anyway, right?"
Oh, there it was— the topic of Maplepool. Somehow, Mallowpaw had put Bearclaw's sister on quite a pedestal; he'd never been around her, so he'd never seen a single one of her flaws. Or positive traits, for that matter, but he seemed to have come to his own conclusions about them.
"I hope so," Bearclaw hedged. Do I truly think she could make it? No. Do I hope? Oh, how I hope.
Mallowpaw stilled suddenly, alarm sparking in his amber gaze. "What happens when she returns?"
This was an issue Bearclaw had spent too little time thinking about, since the probability was admittedly low based on the last six seasons. Hi, Maplepool, welcome back! Here's an apprentice whose existence I've been hiding from you for literally the whole time. It sounded worse than it really was, or maybe it was actually bad and he hadn't realized it until now. I definitely can't hide him, though. I can't do that to Mallowpaw, not even for my littermate...
If she survives the Moon Tunnels without breaking down, when I'm not there, maybe she really would be well enough to see past appearances and meet Mallowpaw.
I'd take responsibility for it; it's all me, after all.
"Well, introductions would happen," he meowed, dodging the question.
"I thought—" His eyes were round now, wide and innocent. "Does Maplepool hate me?"
I mean, if she doesn't know you exist, I don't think it's possible for her to hate you.
"No," Bearclaw said firmly. "Maplepool's only hated one cat her whole life, and you aren't him."
"Then why wasn't I allowed to see her?" Mallowpaw mewed, a little plantively.
I'm so sorry. The brown tom felt a little piece of his heart splintering, breaking for the apprentice who only now got to be liberated from the chains that Bearclaw had put on him himself. I did it for Maplepool... it was a good decision, in terms of her, but was it really worth it?
"It's very long and complicated. I'll tell you when you get to twelve moons, okay?"
"Aw, but that's so far awaaaay!" Mallowpaw wobbled dramatically, sitting back down with a thud and a sigh, wearing a comically sulky look on his face. At least the conversation had been steered off of Maplepool.
"You're over halfway there. Keep at it, buddy."
At this, the grin returned to the apprentice's face, swift as a greenleaf breeze. "Sure thing, deputy! Anything to do today?"
"Maybe go ask some other warrior," Bearclaw suggested. "I'm not your only mentor, you know. The whole reason the Clans got rid of the mentor-apprentice system was so that a broader range of skills from all the warriors, increasing their chances of surviving the journey to the tunnels."
"Oh, all right!"
Cheerfully, Mallowpaw bounced off, in search of someone else to pester.
Once left alone, Bearclaw found his thoughts spinning back into the same old spiderweb of worries. Maplepool— war— dying WindClan— dying Hawkstar— being deputy— Maplepool—
"Bearclaw!"
Mossfur's call was fraught, had never sounded as distressed as it did now, and he found himself kicking up sand in his hurry to make it to the medicine cat den. Dread pooled in his stomach, black and spreading, strangling him from the inside out. He halted at the edge, afraid of what he might find inside.
The gray she-cat met him there, meeting his gaze with her own.
"Bearclaw, come inside."
"Why?" he choked out, and it was a pointless question, because he already knew the answer. WindClan's medicine cat closed her blue eyes and tilted her head towards the sky, as if searching for an omen. Without opening them, without looking at him, she whispered the words he already knew, already felt in his bones the moment she'd cried his name.
"Hawkstar is leaving us."
