SLAVES

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Palewhisper's expression was solemn. Although she sat upright in her nest, it struck him that she looked more asleep than anything else, with her eyes closed and her ears twitching like they were. The she-cat hadn't noticed him at the entrance yet, and Eaglefang didn't see it necessary to disturb her. He was only checking up on her, after all.

The brown tom had just finished up another job, clearing out the dirty bedding from the nursery. It hadn't been very fun; the queens were even snappier than usual, worried about the threat of disease that leafbare always brought. One of the kits had been taken to Ryesong with a fever, which could easily develop into whitecough. After finally satisfying them, Eaglefang had decided to make sure that Palewhisper was alright.

He sighed. It was mouse-brained that he was even here. Surely Palewhisper could survive a few heartbeats without him... right? There were times when the she-cat looked as fit and healthy as any cat, and others where she hardly looked sane at all. For the latter, it was often after she'd just woken up, as bad dreams still kept her sleepless.

That was what bothered him the most. Eaglefang had realized by now that these were no ordinary nightmares. To be this frequent, they had to be the result of a greater, more divine power. A sign from StarClan, perhaps? A damning message from the Dark Forest? A prophecy of sorts? And of all cats to burden with visions, why Palewhisper? Surely she had suffered enough from the attack already.

Ryesong was preying on his mind as well. It was almost as though the medicine cat were toying with him. She knew something about the dreams, more than she'd told him the last time they'd spoken. She claimed she could help them, but Eaglefang didn't trust her. He didn't trust anyone from WindClan at all.

Palewhisper still hadn't moved. He continued to watch her silently, strong emotions resonating within his body. He felt helpless, knowing that he couldn't help her nearly as much as he'd like to, and bizarrely, a little guilty. Only StarClan knew why.

The tom dragged his gaze away from his fellow slave and looked back out toward the camp. The snow beneath his paws crunched as he turned, cold and rough to the touch. Eaglefang couldn't spend much time dwelling on his own issues. He still had work to do, in particular, collecting prey for the elders.

Shaking himself, he started to pad across the clearing toward the fresh-kill pile, hoping that the job would serve as an ample distraction from his thoughts. It was striking how little prey was left, with just a few scrawny rabbits making up what was increasingly dubious to be described as a "pile". Eaglefang selected two medium-sized pieces, deciding that giving the elders anything too stringy would be seen as an insult. They were old and much crankier toward him than the ThunderClan elders had ever been, although that was partly down to large and unspoken reasons.

It seemed that the job had proven itself as a distraction after all, maybe even too good of one. The tom didn't notice the out-of-place scent until he was right at the entrance to the den. As soon as it hit his nostrils, he withdrew in disgust. The revolting smell had taken him by surprise. It tasted of dank, dark and dusty things and places. But it wasn't just that. There was something else, just as sinister, lurking in the air. He couldn't tell what it was, but the first scent? Oh yes, he knew that was, and all too well now. The scent of death.

For a moment, Eaglefang was too taken aback to react. His paws had gone numb, though he wasn't sure whether it was down to the ominous scent or simply the cold. He sniffed again, just to check that he wasn't crazy, but the horrible smell was unmistakable. Someone inside the elders' den was dead.

He didn't know what to do. Should he call for help? Alert Gorsestar or Sandpelt? Eaglefang opened his mouth to do just that, but then, something else occurred to him. There were only two elders in WindClan, and one of them may still be alive. One of them might need his help. Ryesong would probably know best as to what to do in this situation, but Eaglefang felt a bizarre responsibility to help the elders. No matter how much he hated WindClan, it was part of the warrior code to protect those that were vulnerable, regardless of Clan.

He took a deep breath and peered into the den, not daring enough to step inside out of fear for what might confront him, and he was right to be apprehensive. Two cats lay in their nests, eyes closed, but Eaglefang could tell that only one of them was awake. At first he wasn't sure which was which, but then one of the them, a long and slender brown she-cat, stirred. He'd forgotten the elder's name, but he knew he had to warn her. It still wasn't clear how her denmate had died.

'Hey,' Eaglefang called gently, trying not to sound too urgent. 'Wake up.'

The she-cat grunted and rolled over in her nest, but didn't open her eyes. He raised his voice a little, but still, no answer. For StarClan's sake, he thought frustratedly. Get up!

Eaglefang poked his nose further in and sniffed, hoping to identify what the other scent was amongst the musty smells of the den. It lingered in the air like a cloud of smoke, instinctively making his hair stand on end, but he couldn't quite place where he'd smelled it before. Either way, he knew it was dangerous, and since the mouse-brained elder wasn't waking up on her own, he was going to have to go in himself.

Nervously, Eaglefang edged his way inside. The scent of death was overwhelming to the point it made him want to vomit. He stared at the lifeless tom to one side pitifully, wishing he would just get up and tell him everything was okay. It would certainly save him an awful lot of trouble.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached the she-cat. Tension made his legs feel weak like water. Eaglefang nudged her muzzle with his own as gently as he could. If there was one thing he didn't want to do in this situation, it was alarm her.

Then, realization struck him as suddenly as a lightning bolt. In a split second, he knew what the strange, rotting scent was. Something he'd hoped he would never have to smell again.

Unfortunately, the elder seemed to have the same idea. Her eyes widened with shock, and upon seeing the limp figure of the dead tom in the corner, it transformed into horror.

'Greencough!' she screamed. 'Branchfur is dead!'

Eaglefang winced. He should've anticipated her reaction; it was stupid that he hadn't. Quickly, he clasped his paw over her mouth in an attempt to muffle her voice, but it was already too late. Eaglefang could hear a commotion building outside. Obviously, they had heard the elder's cry. One of them called out, asking if she was alright.

The brown tom pulled the she-cat to her paws and ushered her over to the entrance. They were still in danger, and Eaglefang knew they would have to get out of the den, unless they wanted to catch the greencough themselves. A large group of warriors stood out in the snow, each trying to find out what was happening. One of them, Slatefrost, shoved his way forward, but Eaglefang blocked his path.

The warrior glared at him furiously. 'Get out of my way, slave!' he snarled.

'No,' Eaglefang retorted. 'There's greencough in there-'

'What in StarClan's name is going on?'

The familiar booming voice of Gorsestar made all of them freeze. The WindClan leader padded over with Sandpelt at his side, tail lashing from side to side. The crowd parted to let him and the deputy get through. He eyed the elder and Slatefrost warily, ignoring Eaglefang.

'Explain,' he demanded, gesturing toward Slatefrost.

The grey tom shrugged, clearly uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of his leader. 'Don't ask me, Gorsestar. We just heard screaming, something about Branchfur.'

The leader continued to stare at Slatefrost for a moment, before finally turning away from him toward the she-cat. 'What happened?' he asked, his voice a little softer when addressing the elder.

She shook her head, looking as though she might collapse if a gust of wind hit her. 'Branchfur,' she whimpered. 'H-he's dead. Greencough.'

A flicker of emotion passed over Gorsestar's face, a mixture of surprise and worry. Eaglefang didn't blame him. Greencough in leafbare was a fatal combination.

For a few heartbeats, the WindClan leader didn't move a muscle, apparently at a loss as to what to do. Sandpelt sensed her leader was struggling to make a decision, and opened her mouth to speak, but then, Gorsestar broke out of his stupor.

'Get Ryesong,' he commanded, unease evident in his voice. 'We can't do anything without her.'

The deputy nodded, and hurried over to the medicine cat's den. She returned only moments later accompanied by Ryesong, who, after being briefed on what had taken place, ducked into the elders' den. The gathered warriors watched anxiously for her verdict.

Eaglefang felt an unexpected wave of nausea come over him. He'd encountered greencough twice in his lifetime, back in ThunderClan. When he was still a kit in the nursery, one of the apprentices had caught the disease. He hadn't understood what had happened to her in the end, but the second time, it would've been better if he still didn't. Half the nursery had been wiped out, and the idea of greencough being in the same camp as he was set him on edge.

The twigs around the elders' den rustled, and Ryesong re-emerged. If her expression was anything to go by, then WindClan were in for a difficult leafbare. She whispered something into Gorsestar's ear, who then grunted and stepped forward to address the warriors.

'Unfortunately, what Chivedash says is true,' he announced gravely. 'Branchfur is dead.'

A wail of anguish echoed from the crowd, followed by shocked and fearful whispers.

'The cause of death was definitely greencough,' he added, raising his voice over those of his warriors. 'Ryesong sees it fit to close off the elders' den for the moment, in order to prevent-'

The voices of the surrounding WindClan cats rose to such an extent that the leader's speech was totally lost. Eaglefang watched on hopelessly as they shouted out in fear, faces alight with concern.

'How did none of us realize?'

'How long has he been dead?'

'What if the disease spreads?'

'We can't afford any weakness, not with RiverClan stealing our prey!'

Eaglefang glanced up at Sandpelt and Gorsestar, expecting them to intervene, but they couldn't regain the attention of the crowd. Incredulity merged with disbelief. Had they really lost control?


The scents and colors of the forest wash over her as she pads through the undergrowth. Lush green grass covers the ground, and bright sunbeams burst through the branches of the trees, spilling across her pelt and reflecting into her eyes. She blinks and looks away, but it doesn't bother her. What could possibly bother her in a place as beautiful as this?

She has been walking for many sunrises now. Moons. Seasons. Walking through the forest, learning all the secrets it has to hide. She loves it, more than anything she could possibly imagine. If she is given the choice, she will continue to walk through this forest until there is nothing more to explore. And then, she will return to her camp, where all her friends and family will be waiting for her. Skystar, Willowflight, Eaglefang. Especially Eaglefang. They will be smiling, and waiting. Happy.

Suddenly, she comes to a halt, and breathes in the crisp forest air. It's such a beautiful day, she thinks. How lucky I am for this place to be my home.

Somewhere distant and faraway, a strange noise echoes. Her ear pricks up, alerting her to the sudden sound. It sounded tinny and shrill, but it doesn't come again, so she takes no notice and pads on. I'll never leave this place, she thinks. Nothing will ever take me away from here.

The noise comes again, louder this time, and seemingly closer. Like something is approaching. A little wary now, she turns around, staring back at the bushes behind her. She listens carefully, hoping to identify what the noise belongs to. It's changed now, like a hundred voices joined together in an angry crescendo.

Slowly, she begins to back away from the sound, shaking her head in denial. The noise is still increasing in volume; she can hear some of the individual voices now. They seem to be calling her name. She breaks out into a run, fleeing the unwelcome noise, the voices inside her head.

No, she screams. You can't take me! This is my home!

A burning light jolted Palewhisper awake. She gasped in desperation, reaching forward for the forest once more, but it was all well out of reach. It was always out of reach.

The section of den where she lay was consumed by shadows. Only a small, limited burst of light seeped in from outside. Her nest was nestled in the corner, as it was one of the only places in the den that was still relatively warm. The rest of the space had the same biting chill as the leafbare snow. Palewhisper peered around to see if anyone else was in the den with her, but there wasn't. She was alone.

Glancing down at her side, she saw claw marks littering the earthen floor. Bits of moss and feathers lay scattered around her. She must have done it all while she was sleeping. The thought of the forest in her dreams made her close her eyes again wistfully. All she wanted to do was return to where she belonged, not stay in this cramped den. She imagined floating away, soaring as free as a bird on the wind. She imagined what it would be like to feel the grass beneath her paws for real again.

The memory of a deep shade of red entered her mind. At least she hadn't had that dream.

Shuddering violently, Palewhisper shuffled back into the remnants of her nest and curled up into a ball, tail thudding against her side. Oh StarClan, she prayed silently, can't you make them go away? A single glance from the bloodied cats was enough to strike terror in her heart.

She needed him now. The one cat she trusted more than anything.

'Eaglefang?' she whispered, her voice cracking. 'Are you there?'

She knew no reply would come, though through the impending silence, she finally noticed the large group of voices wafting in from the camp clearing. They sounded similar to those she'd heard in the forest. Where they what woke her up?

Stifling her whimpers, Palewhisper untangled herself from the ruined moss and dragged herself over to the entrance of the den. What seemed to be a small blizzard was blowing large amounts of snow into the air, making it difficult to see clearly. She could only just make out the shapes of a few cats gathered around the dens. They were discussing something that appeared to be of great importance. The she-cat didn't know what they were saying, and it didn't bother her. All that seemed important to her was finding Eaglefang. Is he there? she thought. Is he with the group?

Almost as though they'd heard her, the cats started to disperse. Several of them dashed off to their respective dens, desperate to get out of the cold, whereas others padded more slowly with each other, talking in a slightly panicked fashion. Palewhisper's light blue eyes darted between them, searching for a comfortingly familiar dark brown tabby pelt.

And there he was! The cat she was looking for! Eaglefang's amber eyes glowed with an emotion she couldn't describe, but he certainly didn't look happy. She didn't care though, because she knew that when he was near, nothing could possibly trouble her.

'How long have you been standing there?' the tom asked when he reached her. 'Not too long, I hope?'

Palewhisper shook her head. 'No. I just woke up, and I wanted to see you.'

His gaze sharpened. 'It wasn't the nightmare, was it?'

Before the she-cat could answer, however, Eaglefang gave her a nudge. 'Don't worry, you can tell me once we've gotten out of the storm,' he murmured.

He led her back into the slaves' den, where she quickly retreated to her nest. The tabby tom shivered, before turning to face Palewhisper. She let the smallest smile escape onto her face, which he returned, but it disappeared when he noticed the torn moss and feathers scattered around their paws.

'You've ruined your nest,' he meowed, picking up one of the pieces with his claw.

Palewhisper pressed her ears against the sides of her head. 'I'm sorry,' she replied. 'I didn't mean to-'

'No, it's fine,' he cut in. 'It's easily fixed.'

Eaglefang twisted around and padded over to his own nest, about a fox-length away from hers. She watched as he selected some of the largest, most downy-looking feathers, and then, after he was satisfied, stepped back toward Palewhisper. He placed them around her hindquarters, helping the previously wrecked nest appear respectable again.

'There you go,' he told her, with a tiny flourish. 'Good as new.'

Palewhisper shifted, enjoying the comforting warmth that the soft new feathers provided. The small act of kindness spoke volumes to her, and she tilted her head up at the tom.

'Thank you,' she murmured shuffling closer to him. Eaglefang allowed her to rest her head against his shoulder, and in response, she began to purr softly. It was an inexplicably gentle moment. Palewhisper could feel her whole body tingling with a sensation she'd experienced all too often in this company, something she'd felt ever since her apprenticeship.

Suddenly, Eaglefang drew away. 'Palewhisper, there's something I should tell you. About what happened outside.'

'Yes?' she replied, not really concentrating. She had been too content in the moment.

He sighed. 'There's greencough in the camp. One of the elders died of it this morning.'

Palewhisper's eyes widened as his words sank in. Greencough? she thought. In the camp? The she-cat tried to speak up, but Eaglefang interrupted.

'There's no danger to us,' he reassured her. 'Ryseong has closed off the den so that it can't spread, and the elder who passed on has already been taken away for burial.'

'What if it does spread, though?' she whispered. 'What if it gets into our den?'

'It won't,' Eaglefang answered, pulling her closer again. 'I promise you.'

Despite the tom's strong, determined words, Palewhisper felt adamant that there was still something he wasn't telling her. That some way, some how, he was still trying to protect her. She had been aware of it for quite some time now, ever since the day they'd gone out looking for RiverClan scent on the hills. She was compelled to ask him about it, but in the end chose not to. He seemed relieved.

Abruptly, Eaglefang got up to his paws. The frown on his face reflected his sense of unease.

'I think it would be better if we both got some rest,' he muttered. 'I'm shattered, so you probably are, too.'

Palewhisper hesitated. He really didn't look too good. She knew how hard Eaglefang worked for them, so it was only natural for him to be tired, but she knew it was more than that. For the first time she noticed the sag in his posture and the droop in his tail, yet strangely, she couldn't seem to find the words to repay the favor he had always given her. The she-cat stared at her paws as he left her side, most likely to return to his own nest at the other side of the den.

After a moment's pause, she copied him, settling down into her nest. But, unlike Eaglefang, she didn't close her eyes. Palewhisper was scared to fall asleep again.


[chapter originally written by Claudaujay]