A/N: Tada! Long chappie. More action/adventure than before. The story is really heating up! I hope you enjoy it! Review for more lovely long chapters!
Again we have possibly T rated tasteful birth situations. You second graders, yes, you, please talk to your parent/guardians about this. (They have no idea what you're doing on the Internet, do they? Mine don't, not that I'm doing anything bad; they're just oblivious. Well, talk to them or else go and read about JoJo's Circus.)
Beware of cliffie and more suspense.
Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors or any of the characters. Erin Hunter does. I do own this story though, so no stealing!
7
The massive tabby warrior surveyed the scene at Fourtrees. The pale ginger queen was shaking violently as her kits began to be born. Nearby the crippled gray medicine cat hovered, whispering words of comfort. The warrior smiled to himself. Blackstar had given him the important task and he would fulfill it with pleasure. This would be like ShadowClan in the kit-stealing days of Brokenstar.
The crippled medicine cat would be no problem. The queen was near death. It would be easy to compromise them, leaving the path to the kits clear.
The queen and her kits were the keys to Firestar's heart. Firestar was the ruling force in the forest. But he would do anything to get his kits back; Blackstar could easily control him once the kits were captured. If Firestar could be controlled, ShadowClan would rule the forest.
The plan had been concocted at a moment's notice, when he had seen the queen go into labor from afar. He, Russetfur and Blackstar had quickly decided. Blackstar would keep Tallstar busy, Russetfur would try to distract Firestar and keep him out of the way. The warrior had seen Firestar looking after a WindClan apprentice. Russetfur would most likely capture the apprentice to distract Firestar. The rest of ShadowClan were already at work fighting WindClan and ThunderClan. And he himself would steal Firestar's kits.
They had hoped to get at the ThunderClan leader's kits ever since the rumors about his mate's pregnancy had started flying around. But they had been sure the kits would be well guarded. StarClan had blessed them when the queen went into labor on the very night of the WindClan attack, and far from the ThunderClan camp. Everything was going perfectly. All he had to do was wait.
Toms got very emotional about kits when their mates died. The warrior chuckled to himself. Ridiculous. He'd never had kits. They were a weakness. Weak cats like Firestar would easily be blackmailed when their kits were threatened.
Perhaps he would kill the queen, just to make Firestar care more about the kits. But by the looks of her, he wouldn't have to.
"Crowkit!" shouted Firestar. Where is he? The fight had spread all over WindClan territory, to the RiverClan boarder. Occasionally he glimpsed one of his warriors fighting side by side with WindClan. Firestar raced near the RiverClan border, where a group of cats was fighting. He saw Thornclaw, Onewhisker, and Graystripe, all being badly beaten. He pulled a clawing tom off Thornclaw and gave him a vicious bite, sending him yowling over the RiverClan border.
"Invasion!" Firestar saw Mistyfoot and a patrol of RiverClan warriors attack the ShadowClan tom.
"ShadowClan's attacking us!" screeched Onewhisker. The RiverClan warriors hesitated.
"If you don't help, Blackstar will attack you next!" warned Firestar.
Mistyfoot nodded to the patrol of RiverClan warriors, who began to fight on WindClan's side.
"Crowkit!" called Firestar. "Where are you?" Bramblepaw, bleeding and panting, stumbled over to Firestar.
"Firestar!" he gasped. "Russetfur—she . . ."
"Yes, Bramblepaw, for StarClan's sake, what is it?"
"She's got this WindClan apprentice, eh, Hawkpaw . . ."
"Crowkit?"
"Yes, well, almost an apprentice, she's holding him down and she told me to tell you to come and get him since you care about him so much."
"Where are they?" Firestar's heart began to pound painfully. He just hoped Crowkit wasn't by the gorge, like in his vision. Knowing Crowkit, though, he probably would be. A RiverClan warrior called Whiteclaw had died in the gorge, but that wouldn't stop Crowkit.
"Over by the gorge . . ."
Firestar and Bramblepaw raced towards the high cliffs over the river. They stopped on a small hillock and surveyed the scene.
There was Russetfur, holding down a struggling Crowkit.
Firestar and Bramblepaw padded down to the edge, Firestar watching Russetfur shrewdly.
"Stay here, Bramblepaw."
"Firestar, be careful. It must be a trap."
A few foxlengths from the struggling apprentice and the reddish warrior, Firestar stopped.
"So, you do care about this apprentice, as Blackstar said," said Russetfur. "One of our warriors saw you paying particular care to him."
"Let him up, Russetfur. He's a kit."
"According to him, he's an apprentice. And I'm not hurting him. I just want you to stay here for a while, to insure his safety. You are such a bleeding heart about other Clans."
This is bad . . . why does she want me here? What are they trying to keep me away from?
Crowkit twisted his head around, sinking his teeth into Russetfur's paw. She screeched and recoiled, letting Crowkit wriggle free.
Firestar flew at her, hissing and scratching. He ducked her swipes and tried to slide in towards her stomach, but she leaped onto his back. He rolled over, knocking her off, and they circled each other slowly, waiting for the next move.
Crowkit threw himself at Russetfur. The skilled warrior brushed the soon-to-be apprentice aside.
This is it! thought Firestar.
Firestar leaped forward, planning to pull Crowkit far away from the edge. Russetfur swerved, hissing as she saw the ThunderClan leader leaping past her. She snapped at Firestar's tail and caught on, yanking him backward. The two rolled over and over. Bramblepaw darted around watching the fight.
"Bramblepaw! Keep Crowkit away from the edge!" yelled Firestar through a mouthful of fur. Bramblepaw looked around for Crowkit. Crowkit had rolled into a rock near the edge. Bramblepaw threw himself towards him to pull him away, but Crowkit jumped out of Bramblepaw's way and threw himself at the battling warriors.
He snapped his teeth around Russetfur's leg. She launched herself with great force at Firestar, kicking Crowpaw with her free hind leg as she went.
It happened so quickly that Firestar barely had time to gasp. The next thing he knew, Crowkit had let go of Russetfur's leg and was rolling across the ground with the force of the kick. By the time Firestar had leaped out of Russetfur's path, Crowkit had disappeared over the gorge. Bramblepaw jumped to the edge, staring over. NO! thought Firestar. Crowkit! I failed.
With vengeful fury, he flew at Russetfur and pinned her down.
"Firestar!" shouted Bramblepaw from the edge of the gorge. "Quick!"
"Hold Russetfur!" he ordered Bramblepaw. Bramblepaw quickly pinned down the ShadowClan deputy.
In an instant, Firestar was at the edge of the gorge. Somehow, incredibly, Crowkit was hanging by his claws to some tufts of grass.
"Hang on, Crowkit," mumbled Firestar. Behind him he heard yelps, and glanced behind him to see a thoroughly nipped Russetfur run yowling into the bushes, leaving a smug looking apprentice.
But there was no time to be proud of Bramblepaw. Firestar lowered his tail down for Crowkit to hold in his teeth. Crowkit leaned forward to grasp the tail, and, without warning, the tufts of grass gave way. Crowkit plummeted down the cliff, bouncing off protruding rocks until he stopped two foxlengths above the rushing water, lying on a narrow ledge, battered and bleeding.
Firestar peered down to the ledge.
Dare I climb down? he wondered. Is it worth it? I might lose all my lives at once should I fall. An if I die—what will happen to my Clan, to Sandstorm, Graystripe, Cloudtail, Brightheart, and the kits? Is it worth sacrificing myself and everything I love? Just for the chance to save this one soon-to-be apprentice?
Far below, Crowkit stirred feebly. Firestar imagined Sandstorm's face. "What if that was our son?" she had said.
Yes, decided Firestar. It is worth it. What if the she-cat I loved was his mother? Every kit is some cat's son.
Watched intently by Bramblepaw, he began climbing down the edge of the cliff. Digging his claws and teeth into the rocks and tufts of grass, he slowly lowered himself toward Crowkit, breathing prayers to StarClan as he went. One slip—one loose tuft of grass, and it could be all over, all my lives gone at once. Using his tail to balance himself closer to the cliff, he descended. He dug his claws into a tuft of brown grass, then glanced down. Crowkit was very far below still.
"You can do it, Firestar!" called Bramblepaw. Firestar glanced up to Bramblepaw. As he jerked his head upward, the tuft of grass gave way, and he plummeted downwards, scrabbling to get a grip on the cliff. His claws painfully caught a grip on a rock with a jolt, feeling as though they would be ripped out of his paws. Breathing heavily, he thanked StarClan that he was still alive. He saw that he was now barely a foxlength above Crowkit and let himself drop gently, landing next to Crowkit and glad to be on solid ground again.
"Crowkit!" hissed Firestar. "Are you hurt?"
"Firestar? I—yes. I can't move my right paw. What happened?"
"Russetfur knocked you over the edge."
Crowkit growled. "The mangy—I'd like to—"
"Be quiet. I need to figure out how to get us down from here."
He looked around. Crowkit could not possibly climb back up. Below them was the rushing river. There was nowhere else to go. Firestar cursed. How was he supposed to get an injured almost-apprentice to land. Whiteclaw died here, in these rushing rapids.
"Bramblepaw!" he called up. "If I don't come back, tell . . ." he trailed off. "Tell Graystripe what happened," he said, although that was not what he was going to say.
He sunk his teeth into Crowpaw's scruff and leaped off the ledge.
The dark warrior watched silently. The medicine cat was flitting around the queen frantically. Something was happening. The time was near. He only needed to make sure no ThunderClan warriors were around to defend them.
Dustpelt snapped at the heels of a retreating ShadowClan warrior. He, Brakenfur, and a few WindClan warriors were chasing a group of battered ShadowClan warriors back towards their territory by way of Fourtrees.
He gasped when he saw Sandstorm lying in the middle of Fourtrees. Is she wounded? It can't be her kits, not yet. No matter. We've got to keep the ShadowClan warriors away from her and Cinderpelt. He and his small group tried to chase the ShadowClan warriors back to their territory, but the warriors turned on Dustpelt and his patrol just beside the Great Rock. The fight broke out again, hissing, clawing, scratching. Tufts of fur flew through the air as the cats spread out around Fourtrees. This time with ThunderClan and WindClan were on the defensive, trying to keep ShadowClan away from Sandstorm and Cinderpelt. Dustpelt saw Sandstorm's body shaking and knew what was happening.
The first kit was being born in the midst of a battle. That's got to be a first, Sandstorm thought. The screeching and yowling drowned out Cinderpelt's calming voice. And yet Sandstorm liked it. She missed being a warrior. It was good to see a bit of action again, the most exciting thing in the nursery was watching spiders catch flies.
She saw Dustpelt glance at her from the midst of the fight, remnants of fury and sadness from so long ago flashing in his eyes. Maybe he thinks these kits would have been his. Well, they wouldn't. Even if Firestar had never come I wouldn't have chosen him as my mate. He was always no more than a brother to me.
Suddenly the voices of StarClan rang around her, agitated, mumbling, indistinct. I can hear StarClan . . . that can't be good. She caught some of the words. "Sandstorm . . . ShadowClan . . . plot . . . kits . . . Firestar . . . gorge . . . Crowkit . . . destiny." Then came the voice of Spottedleaf, ringing clearly above the murmurings. "Firestar's in the river."
No! Someone has to help him! He'll die!
"Dustpelt! Firestar's in the river. Please . . . go help him." Dustpelt's eyes gazed unreadably into hers.
"I'm—sorry I hurt you. You were always like my brother. But you wouldn't leave Firestar alone. You wouldn't leave me alone . . . even after I made it clear we couldn't . . ." Her body spasmed again. "Dustpelt . . . for the sake of the friendship we once shared . . . do this for me."
Battling cats obstructed her view of him. But when she had a chance to glimpse him again, he was no longer there.
Complications, thought the watching ShadowClan warrior. Part of the fight had moved to Fourtrees. More and more ShadowClan warriors were being driven back to their territory. But he couldn't miss this opportunity. The queen was right there in the open. Sooner or later she would be left unguarded.
The water was icy cold and fast flowing. Firestar bobbed underwater, then came up gasping for air. He glanced around for Crowkit, who was nowhere to be seen. He dived under, opening his eyes in the greenish water. Oh where, where . . . THERE! Was that a glimpse of fur?
The current batted him mercilessly. His body spun around and around. He kicked frantically, moving towards the place where he had seen the fur. There it is! Something soft was floating with the current. He surged forward to find . . . an algae covered piece of wood. He clung to it, spluttering, looking around.
Wait . . . further upstream, was that an ear? Then he saw Crowkit break the surface, choking, then go under again. Firestar dived to see Crowkit crash into a rock, then begin sinking gently. Uh oh. He's unconscious. I have to save him. This must be it!
Firestar propelled himself downwards, fighting the current to go upstream. Crowkit was floating along the river floor, his fur tinted by the water, his eyes closed. Firestar kicked with all his might and managed to snap his teeth into Crowkit's scruff. The surface seemed very far away.
KICK! Come on, you can do this. He kicked with all his might, the waterlogged kit pulling him down. Are you going to let it end like this? Come on! But there were limits to what he could do. Come on. Get to the air! Do not let Crowkit go. The current was pulling them downstream, but not up to the surface. Come on! Give it all you got! His lungs were bursting, his head was going woozy . . . the temptation to let Crowkit go and kick for the surface was overwhelming.
Do not let him go. Save him or die trying! KICK! His legs burned. Surely the surface was closer now. Just get to the light. Don't let Crowkit go. Don't let any queen have a dead kit. Kit! Do you want to die before meeting your own kits? Come ON! He kicked wildly, frantically.
The moonlight was close. So close. If you don't give it all you've got, you'll be dead. Then what good will reserves of energy do you? The light was close, he could almost feel its silveryness lighting his face. Remember Bluestar! StarClan can't save you from drowning! The moonlight was all around him, blueish and cool . . . but his vision was starting to fail for lack of air . . . COME ON! You have to live to be a father! With his last reserves of strength, he broke the surface and choked in the air, almost falling unconscious. He kept a grip on Crowkit. I hope you're happy with the job I did, StarClan . . .
"Very happy, Firestar," said Spottedleaf. "WindClan's future leader is saved."
As though by the hand of StarClan, the current pushed them to the edge of the river, to one of the low mud banks on RiverClan's territory. With all the strength he could put into his forepaws, Firestar heaved Crowkit onto the bank. He didn't have the energy to pull himself upright, so he lay with his head on the land, exhausted. And there was . . . Dustpelt, scrambling down the muddy bank to help them. Dustpelt laid Crowkit on his stomach and pounded him to make him cough up the water he had swallowed. Then Dustpelt dragged the exhausted Firestar onto dry land.
"Um . . . Dustpelt, thank you." Firestar's eyes said it all—why?
"You're welcome. Sandstorm asked me to."
"Oh." What was he supposed to say? The two toms hovered over Crowkit, who had coughed up a lot of water and was breathing shallowly.
"I, uh, appreciate your help," mumbled Firestar.
"Well, you are my leader, and I am one of your senior warriors."
They looked at each other for a moment.
"Look, I think you and Sandstorm are . . . are perfect for each other. I'm—glad it worked out," mewed Dustpelt in a strained voice.
"Same to you and Ferncloud. I--didn't try to steal her from you. She made her own choice," muttered Firestar.
"I know. Mostly because I was stupid enough to insult you, she didn't like that. But we were good friends, and I'd like to be friends with you two again."
"I think that could be arranged," said Firestar.
"Good. Now I would suggest you get to Fourtrees. I'll take this kit back to camp. You should hurry to see Sandstorm. Her first kit is being born."
Firestar shivered, thinking of the ominous dream. He had to go, quickly.
"Firestar, you saved my life," meowed Crowkit, who was sitting up now and breathing well. "I knocked my head on a rock in the water, and the next thing I knew you were pushing me out . . ."
"That's all right. Just stay out of trouble and don't give your mentor too much cheek, okay?"
"I'll try," mewed Crowkit, lips twitching. "You're a legend. Now I see why. Thank you." Dustpelt helped him limp back towards the WindClan camp. Crowkit waved his tail to Firestar in farewell as he padded away, leaning on Dustpelt's shoulder and treading carefully on his injured paw.
Firestar thought of Sandstorm. "Her first kit is being born." Those words sparked unknown reserves of strength. Firestar raced to Fourtrees, knowing that his task for StarClan was complete.
Firestar was almost afraid of what he might see as he pounded into Fourtrees. The WindClan, ThunderClan, ShadowClan and a few RiverClan warriors were ripping and slashing at each other.
But there was Sandstorm, still moaning in pain, and beside Cinderpelt . . . a tiny, brown tabby kit! Firestar raced down the slope and up to Cinderpelt.
"Quick, Firestar. Lick the kit."
Firestar rasped his pink tongue over the tiny kit, a she kit, a light brown tabby with tiny, white paws and a white chest. She lay still for a moment, but then he felt her shudder and open her pink mouth to mew. A great, swelling love expanded inside him for the little creature that was his kin, Sandstorm's kin, the flesh of his flesh.
He couldn't see Sandstorm with Cinderpelt hovering around, but suddenly heard a great gasp, a sigh, and the squeak of a kit.
"This one's a she kit too," said Cinderpelt. She gently nosed another kit over to him, a darker ginger than Sandstorm, but lighter than him. He licked her gently and felt her wriggle, flopping her tiny limbs around feebly. A deep purr swelled form his throat, and the same overwhelming love filled him. The kit turned its closed eyes to him and gave a soft mew.
Cinderpelt was hovering over the exhausted Sandstorm. "Two kits. A small but healthy litter. Sandstorm, look! You have two beautiful, healthy daughters," she said.
Firestar nosed the kits over to Sandstorm. Sandstorm purred with joy and gave each kit a lick on the forehead. She and Firestar shared an amazed look. Firestar pressed close to his family. He and Sandstorm wrapped their tails around the kits and pressed close together. Around them, cats spat and hissed but nothing mattered but the four of them.
"I love you," he said. "All of you." Sandstorm gave him a look that said everything.
This is a miracle, he thought. It's . . . I can't . . . These kits are alive. How is that possible? How can we create more living things? For a moment, he caught a terrifying glimpse of powers greater than StarClan from which new life was made. He shivered, gazing up at endless sky, feeling very small.
"Look!" shouted a WindClan warrior. The fighting stopped. Enemies and allies alike gathered around, staring in wonder at the newborn kits.
"Over here," murmured a ShadowClan warrior after a few quiet moments. By mutual agreement, the warriors moved away, out of Fourtrees, leaving the family alone. Cinderpelt moved a ways away, giving them some privacy. And to Firestar, everything was right in the world.
Everything all right. The huge ShadowClan warrior knew better. He would always know a dying cat when he saw one. The queen was trying to enjoy the moment of her kit's birth, pushing away the darkness. Even her mate seemed unaware of it as he gazed in foolish wonder at the kits. But soon he would be called off to help Tallstar fight Blackstar.
Soon, except for the crippled medicine cat, the queen would be left defenseless and dying, her kits exposed. Soon he would make his move. That pretty queen could pretend she was all right and fool her mate all she liked. StarClan was coming for her. The birth had simply been too much for her system.
A smile curled Jaggedtooth's lips. He could smell the approaching death.
A/N: Whew, that was a long one. 10 pages in Word! I was going to split it into two, but I love my readers, so I decided not to. Surely my generosity deserves some reward! Pweeze review!
Sorry 'bout the cliffies. Once you get started with 'em, it's kind of addictive. But Chapter 8 is waiting in the wings, ready to see if it is wanted. It's all typed up and ready to go . . . see how I'm special? (jk) Review! Remember, you don't have to critique, just tell me if you enjoyed it.
ReviewsMore chappies. Comments + criticism + constructive welcome. Flames just go away and get a life. After you SUFFER!
I know you guys wouldn't really flame but I'm getting some threats as the story's tension rises, ahem. Don't even think about it. Unless you got a death wish, pal.
I PROMISE YOU: Next chapter will decide Sandstorm's fate, once and for all. I decided to have y'all hang for just one more chapter. I looove suspense almost as much as I love reviews. (That was shameless . . .) Enough flip-flopping on her fate; the next chapter is THE chapter that WILL decide it. Whether you think she will live or die, you may be surprised. Ba doom boom cha . . .
Au revoir, au next chapter! Think the story's winding down? Ha. Crowkit may be safe, but I got some more drama and fights left in this one. See you soon.
Angela
