"Murderer!"

"Kit killer!"

I screamed in pain and anger, burying my head into her tail to muffle the sound. Claws ripped at my pelt, making the blood run in rivers down my black-spotted pelt, staining my gray fur red.

I couldn't do anything. The insults and claws kept coming, until I had dissolved into a bloody mess. My pelt, already criss-crossed with a number of scars, was just a large wound. Only tufts of fur had survived the vicious attack.

I stood shakily, aware of many eyes piercing my pelt. Blood ran in streams down my pelt. I felt a vice grip my throat. I looked down.

A kit had wrapped his paws around my neck, attempting to choke me. I gently shook him off. He landed with a thump in the dusty dirt, spitting and hissing.

Suddenly, the realization of what happened hit me. My Clanmates had done this. I turned around in shock, searching for my mate's blue eyes.

His eyes were chips of ice. He scowled at me, then turned to tap his nose to Copperleaf's.

I fell apart.

I screamed, digging my own claws into my tail. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed several cats cover their ears with a wince. How could he do this? Why did he betray me?

I screamed until my throat was raw. Tears ran down my face, stinging the open wounds. I sank to the ground with a sob. I screamed one word. "Why?!"

A large, muscled tom stepped forward. Boulderstar. "Nightspot, from now on, you will be banished from WindClan for killing Hollyprickle, Mumblekit, Nutkit, and Jaykit. You have until sunset to leave. If you are found within our borders after tonight's sunset, we will kill you. Leave."

I stood. Anger had replaced my confusion and pain. My paws trembled; I had to convince myself that tearing the face off the Clan leader was not the best decision.

"You know what?" I yowled. "This Clan is full of murderers. It was Redwhisker who killed Hollyprickle and her kits! Firelily killed Branchtail! Smokedew killed Beetlestep!"

These accusations were fake, of course. Redwhisker was the killer of every cat I had listed.

My mate stepped forward with a confused, horrified look on his face. It was fake, of course. "Nightspot! Why would you suggest that I killed my own sister?"

I gazed around the clearing. Firelily glanced at the ground, fiddling with a leaf. Smokedew gazed in rapt attention at a passing cloud. They were pretending to be the suspected murderers.

I hissed at my mate. "Really? Then why was there her fur in your claws the day she was murdered? And why did I find the kits' bodies with your scent on them?"

I knew I had struck gold. Every head turned with a single snap. Every eye was focused on Redwhisker.

This was our chance. I gestured to Firelily and Smokedew. They slipped from their places in the crowd. No one payed any attention. They were all focused on Redwhisker, who was struggling to explain.

Firelily ducked into the medicine den and emerged moments later with burdock root, cobwebs, and comfrey. She passed some to Smokedew, helping lighten the load.

Smokedew kinked her tail over her back. Firelily ducked into line behind her. I wove through the crowd, gently nudging cats aside. Later they would wonder how they got blood on their pelt.

When I reached the two other she-cats, Firelily nodded to me. Smokedew said nothing. A rustle behind us made me turn around.

The Clan was splitting up, carrying on with their duties. Boulderstar was gazing around the clearing. He called, "Where are Nightspot, Firelily, and Smokedew?"

I turned back to Smokedew. Her yellow eyes were wide with fear. She nodded to me, a grimace on her face. She gave her herbs to Firelily with a hiss. "Don't make a sound. Meet me at the Moonpool at moon-high."

Firelily grinned. I nodded to Smokedew.

Smokedew smiled and slipped into the clearing. "Sorry, Boulderstar! Just had to use the dirtplace." she mewed.

We didn't stay soon after that. I took the lead. We quickly made our way to the bushes surrounding our camp. We pushed through and started making our way to the Moonpool, only pausing to roll in heather to mask our scent. I start walking.


Finally, after what seemed like days, we reached the Moonpool. My wounds had stopped bleeding, only to be replaced by itchy scabs. Firelily quickly applied the burdock root and comfrey, patching it on with the cobweb.

I kept on trying to scratch my scabs, which resulted in the poultice to rubbed off. Firelily gathered some catchweed from around the edge of the Moonpool. She applied the poultice again, this time binding it with catchweed and cobweb.

I gazed at the horizon, watching for Smokedew. The full moon was rising in the sky. There would be a Gathering tonight.

Firelily sat beside me. Her mate, Beetlestep, had been killed by Redwhisker. She sighed. "When will Smokedew arrive?"

"Soon enough, hopefully."

We sat in silence for a few more heartbeats. Firelily's stomach grumbled. She stood. "I'm going to get us dinner."

"M'kay."

I sat by myself for a while. I thought I saw Smokedew's form a few times, but it had always been a bit of mist.

I glanced up. It was close to moon-high. The Clan would be leaving soon.

A strong, meaty smell drifted past, accompanied by a faint whiff of Firelily. I turned to see her holding a young hare in her jaws.

We devoured the hare. I was so hungry. I hadn't been able to eat since sun-up.

Firelily suddenly jerked her head around, staring at the bushes ringing the Moonpool. I twisted to see what she was looking for.

Smokedew emerged from the bushes, her pelt smeared with crushed heather.

"Hi," sh meowed wearily. Firelily sprang up to greet her, whispering, "Shush, did you eat, how are you, what happened?"

Smokedew settled down next to me. "I caught and ate a field mouse on my way here, and I'm fine."

I prodded her with my tailtip. "So what happened after we left?" My voice was hoarse from yowling.

Smokedew quickly explained that Boulderstar had sent out patrols to look for us. He would warn at the Gathering that there was a murderer loose.

I interrupted at this part. "Does he mean Redwhisker?" I asked hopefully.

Smokedew shook her head. "No. He means you."

I hissed violently, making my sore throat burn. "That hare-dung headed fox," I growled. "Tomorrow night, I guarentee, I will get my revenge."


I pace around the Moonpool the next day, my paws slipping into the dimples in the stone. My wounds are numb.

I had ripped off the comfrey and burdock root last night, almost a day ago. Smokedew and Firelily had left for Clan territory early this morning.

I pause my pacing to look at myself in the Moonpool.

I am menacing. My wounds have gone, leaving pink ribbons on flesh in their wake. Blood still crusts my fur.

I growl in satisfaction. The moonlight highlights my image even more, making me look like a ruler. A leader.

I practice carving a shape into the branch of a bush. I saw a Twoleg kit draw it in the sand of the lake once, and have loved it ever since. A larger, male Twoleg kit had come along, adding two crisscrossing lines to the top of the shape.

I carve the crisscrossing lines into the shape. I step back, gazing at the image. Perfect. It is time.


The camp is quiet. Soft snores drift from the warriors den. My paws tingle with electricity. I enter the camp through the dirtplace. The warriors' scents flood my senses. I snarl quietly. The smells are distracting me.

I enter the warriors' den, searching for a familiar red pelt. It's where he always is, but my nest is filled with snotty, sassy Copperleaf. I will deal with her later.

I quickly pick my way over the sleeping bodies. Redwhisker's pelt looms from the darkness.

I flex my claws.

I quickly slash his throat. He is dead already. Thanks, Firelily! The deathberries had done their job.

I haul the heavy tom onto my back, wincing when blood drips from his throat into my eyes.

Grumbling, I carry the dead weight out of the den. I quietly drop him on the ground next to freshkill pile.

I dig every peice of prey from the small hole where it is stored. After making two piles, I quickly carve the shape and lines into Redwhisker's pelt. Blood fills the cuts, making the symbol bright red. I push the body into the fresh-kill hole. I toss a few small hares over the body. I carry the rest of the freshkill out of camp and bury it under a few stray bushes. It takes me two trips.

I finish the job just as the first light of sun-up touches the camp. Pausing at the ridge above camp, I gaze down. Boulderstar is coming for his first piece of freshkill for the day.

I smile.

That was fun. Let's do that again, Deadheart.

Okay. We'll try Copperleaf tomorrow.