Chapter Ten
No! How can she be dead? She was fine just a few minutes ago! Spottedpaw stared at the dead ginger warrior in shock and horror. I did this! I could've warned Whitestar! I could've stopped her dying!
Spottedpaw jerked out of her thoughts and let out a startled hiss as something barreled into her from behind. She whirled around with unsheathed claws and wild eyes.
Redfoot got to his feet and shook the dust from his fur. "Sorry," he huffed. "But when you ran away like that, I had to follow you." He narrowed his eyes. "Now what in the name of StarClan where you saying? What awful thing's happened?"
Spottedpaw sheathed her claws and silently stepped aside, revealing the scene in the camp. Redfoot's eyes got big and his whiskers drooped. "No," he breathed, his eyes shadowing with grief. "What in StarClan's name happened?"
Spottedpaw shook her head. "I don't know," she whispered sadly. Then her vision came back to her, the heavy weight and the biting pain... As sure as if StarClan had whispered it in her ear, she realized that what she'd seen was what Rosethorn had seen, just before she died. Her paws trembled. It wasn't a fox, or a badger; they can't climb trees, and they aren't smart enough to wait and ambush somebody like that. It had to be a cat! She vainly searched her memory to find if Rosethorn had detected a scent before whoever it was killed her. Nothing. Focused on the hunt as she was, Rosethorn hadn't been able to smell anything, and she had died too quickly to identify a scent when the murderer crashed down on top of her. She shuddered, remembering the pain of the killing bite. Oh, Rosethorn, I'm so sorry! I promise that I'll find out who killed you.
"Where's Sandfur and the rest of the patrol?" she asked, feeling a cold prick of terror. Rosethorn's killer was still out there; the forest wasn't safe anymore.
"They stayed behind to check the border," Redfoot meowed absently. Spottedpaw thought about where Rosethorn had been hunting before she died. She recognized the area; it was a little glade near Snakerocks, about as far from the RiverClan border as you could get. She felt a thrill of relief that made her legs tremble. The patrol would be safe…at least until the murderer found them. But if there was only the one cat, like in her vision, then surely he – or she - wouldn't attack the whole patrol? And what about RiverClan? They had a reason to want to kill one of ThunderClan's warriors; maybe it was one of them. But they couldn't get so far into ThunderClan territory without getting caught, so it couldn't be them. ShadowClan had pledged support to ThunderClan; they wouldn't attack their allies. So, who did it? Spottedpaw's head spun with all the questions that whirled around her mind. She tried to push the questions away and searched the crowd for the one cat she hoped was safe above all others, quivering in fear. Spottedpaw didn't realize she was holding her breath until she let it out in a relieved sigh at the sight of Crowflight's smoky gray pelt among the cats. She felt her heart do that flutter it always did when she saw him. He was watching the gorse tunnel, his fur bristling and amber eyes wide. As Spottedpaw and Redfoot came into camp he sagged from emotion, his fur flattening. Then he whirled and stalked over to join a group of warrior talking to each other in hushed, worried tones. Spottedpaw stared after him. What in StarClan's name was that? She sighed. Why is he so confusing?
Suddenly Leopardpaw bounded up to them, weaving in and out of the groups of cats waiting anxiously for Whitestar. "Are you okay?" he demanded, eyes fixed on Spottedpaw. What she really wanted to do was wail, No! Something horrible is loose in the forest, we're prey in our own territory, and Rosethorn's dead! How can anyone be okay?,but she just nodded.The golden tabby apprentice visibly relaxed at her signal. "Did you hear?" he panted. "Rosethorn was murdered! Jayflight found bite marks in her neck!"
Redfoot let out a hiss of shock, but the news wasn't new to Spottedpaw. She tried to act surprised, which wasn't hard; shock and surprise were close to the same thing.
Leopardpaw stroked his tail down Spottedpaw's flank. Spottedpaw wanted to flinch away, but she didn't want to hurt him, so she forced herself to stay still. "I'm glad you're safe," Leopardpaw whispered. He stared into her eyes until she uncomfortably looked away. The golden apprentice straightened. "I've got to go tell the patrols to come back to camp," he explained. "Foxpelt's going with me," he added at Redfoot's look. "Whitestar's orders. No apprentices are to leave the camp without a warrior going with them."
He touched the tip of his nose to Spottedpaw's ear in farewell and dashed out the gorse tunnel.
"We should go pay our respects," Redfoot murmured and slowly began to pad to Rosethorn's body. Spottedpaw followed and crouched down, burying her nose in Rosethorn's cold ginger fur. A wave of sorrow made her want to wail like a lost kit.
Stormpaw and Mouseleap bounded into the camp, eyes wide and fur bristling, with the rest of the patrol, Foxpelt and Leopardpaw right behind them. The patrol, Foxpelt and Leopardpaw headed straight to Whitestar's den to report as Mouseleap let out a sad, high wail and dashed to the dead ginger warrior, burying her face in her fur. Stormpaw pressed his nose to her fur in comfort, then padded around his mentor to join his sister.
"Rosethorn was her littermate," he explained, eyes dull with grief. He crouched down beside Spottedpaw, tucking his paws beneath his chest as Spottedpaw glanced at the keening brown warrior, her heart heavy and feeling like a stone had lodged itself in her throat. Oh, Mouseleap, I'm so sorry!
"We were on our way back to camp when Leopardpaw found us," Stormpaw continued. "He told us Whitestar wanted us back in camp and that Rosethorn was dead, but he didn't tell us how she died."
Spottedpaw, feeling more tired than she could ever remember being in her life, relayed the information Leopardpaw told them, choosing not to tell him about her vision at the moment. Stormpaw's eyes widened when she told him about the bite marks. His fur puffed out in fury. "How dare those mangy RiverClan cats murder Rosethorn?" he spat.
"I don't think it was RiverClan," Spottedpaw interrupted him.
"But who else could it be?" he asked, staring at her in disbelief. "We know they wanted revenge for Briarthorn's death, so they must have killed her!"
Spottedpaw opened her mouth to reply, but closed it as Whitestar sprang on the Highrock. Since the Clan was already gathered, he didn't yowl the summons but launched straight into the meeting.
"We have lost a brave warrior today," he meowed sadly. "We will mourn Rosethorn for many moons to come." He straightened and looked down on the cats gathered below. "I know that most of you believe that she was murdered by RiverClan." An angry murmur rippled through the cats as fur bristled, eyes narrowed furiously and claws unsheathed. Weaseltail, a skinny brown tom with a long thin tail, hissed.
"We know they did," he spat. "They wanted revenge for the death of one of their cats, didn't they? Of course they killed Rosethorn."
Whitestar met the tom's angry stare. "I've done an investigation of our cats into the matter of Briarthorn's death, and I'm certain that it was not one of our cats who killed her."
Weaseltail cut him off again, tail tip twitching impatiently. "Of course we didn't! And what does that have to do with it?" Spottedpaw glared at him and thought that he deserved his name. He's hotheaded, reckless, aggressive, and he looks like a weasel, she thought, narrowing her eyes at him. How dare he interrupt Whitestar!
If Whitestar was mad, he didn't show it. He beckoned with his tail to a cat sitting close enough to the Highrock to be half-hidden in its shadow. "Lakefur, would you tell us how and when you found Rosethorn?"
Lakefur, a quiet, long-furred, blue-gray tom, timidly stepped forward. "I left camp to get an early start at hunting, and I chose to go hunt by the Thunderpath near Snakerocks," he mewed hesitantly, ears flattened back against his skull from nervousness. "I decided I would just hunt until I got there, then I would head back to camp. That's when I found her. She was just lying there, a look of shock on her face. I tried to get her to wake up, but she wouldn't, and Rosethorn wouldn't scare someone like that, so I knew she was dead. I picked her up and carried her back to camp." Whitestar nodded and with a sigh of relief Lakefur stepped back into the throng.
"You see?" Whitestar announced, fixing his green-eyed stare on Weaseltail. "There is no way RiverClan could've gotten that far into our territory without being caught. In fact," he added, "Sandfur led the dawn patrol along the RiverClan border. Did you smell any RiverClan warriors over our side of the border, Sandfur?"
The sandy-colored tom shook his head. "Nothing."
Weaseltail growled under his breath as Whitestar continued on. "Thank you, Sandfur. Now that we know that it wasn't RiverClan, we will not attack their camp." He glanced at Weaseltail and his friends. "In the meanwhile, we will keep a lookout for Rosethorn's murderer. No apprentice will leave the camp without at least one warrior going with them. I don't think the killer will attack a whole Clan, but I want two warriors in the camp at all times." Spottedpaw felt a thrill of concern. It's going to be hard keeping the Clan fed and managing patrols if two warriors have to stay behind each time…but what else can he do?
Dawnfur, a cream-colored she-cat expecting to have her kits soon, curled her tail anxiously around her belly. "My kits and I won't be safe until we've found who killed Rosethorn," she fretted. Her mate, Sunspark, whispered comfortingly into her ear as Whitestar acknowledged her words with a twitch of his ears.
"We will not rest until the killer is apprehended, Dawnfur," he promised. "Hawkflight, Reedtail, Splashpelt, I want you to search the forest to see if you can pick up a trace of any foreign scent that might give us a clue to who the killer is. Start at Snakerocks and work your way to the Great Sycamore, then come right back. I'll send Smokefoot, Appletail, and Brightwing to cover the rest of the territory." The chosen cats nodded and sped off. Whitestar lifted his head, the sunlight glinting off his white fur so brightly Spottedpaw had to squint to look at him. "In the meantime, we will give thanks to StarClan for Rosethorn's life. Icestorm, I want to speak with you for a moment." He leaped down from the Highrock and whisked into his den, the Clan deputy at his heels. Spottedpaw felt a prick of frustration as she watched the Clan leader and Icestorm vanish into Whitestar's den. How am I supposed to tell him about my dreams when he's always surrounded by other cats?
Some of the Clan broke up into groups and talked to each other in hushed voices, including Weaseltail and his friends, who whispered to each other and sent angry glares in the direction of Whitestar's den. Spottedpaw strained her ears, but they were too far away for her to catch what they were saying. The other cats went to sit vigil by the dead ginger warrior. Stormpaw mewed a quick good-bye to Spottedpaw and padded over to sit by Mouseleap, pressing his gray-and-white fur to her brown pelt as she trembled in sorrow. Fawnpaw joined them and sat close to Stormpaw's side. Spottedpaw turned and padded slowly back to Rosethorn's body, fighting to keep putting one paw in front of the other. She settled down next to the dead warrior where she could keep one eye on Whitestar's den and glanced up at the sun with a feeling of surprise. How was it only sunhigh? It felt like moons had passed since the time she'd left the camp that morning.
Leopardpaw padded up to her and pressed himself close, not saying anything. Spottedpaw was grateful for his silent comfort; it helped to calm her restlessness. Her itched to be doing something, anything, than just sitting there. At least when Whitestar was speaking, she had something to focus on other than the guilt and sorrow that was now swamping her mind like the river at full flood. Spottedpaw half-wished he'd sent her on the patrols to find Rosethorn's killer so that she could be doing something helpful, but Whitestar wouldn't want an untrained apprentice out there with the murderer still loose. And besides, she couldn't leave until she'd had a chance to talk to Whitestar.
As she was waiting for him, her sadness frayed away into a sense of determination, cold and hard as ice. It didn't smolder inside her like anger; it was a rush of clear-headedness like the time during her first moon of being an apprentice, when the first snows fell and she slipped into the icy river half-asleep. The guilt was still there, hovering on the edges of her mind, but it wasn't overwhelming her like before. I swear on the name of StarClan, she vowed, that I will avenge your death, Rosethorn. I won't let your murderer get away with this. Mind cleared and with a strong sense of purpose now, Spottedpaw fixed her eyes on the lichen overhanging Whitestar's den and waited.
Finally Icestorm left. Spottedpaw quickly scrambled to her paws, meowing a quick "excuse me" to Leopardpaw, and hurried to Whitestar's den, but suddenly Jayflight stood in her way. "Spottedpaw, may I talk to you for a moment?"
He turned away from her and stalked to his den. Spottedpaw shot a last glance at Whitestar's den, considering just ignoring the medicine cat, but Jayflight sent her a glare over his shoulder like he read her thoughts. She sighed in exasperation and grumbled under her breath as she followed him to his den.
When they reached the fern-enclosed clearing where Jayflight kept his herbs, the medicine cat spun around and sat, tucking his tail neatly over his paws and fixing her with a blue-eyed stare.
"Do you know anything about Rosethorn's death?" he asked, eyes filled with desperation and urgency.
Spottedpaw looked at him in shock. He knows about the dreams! Suddenly she felt a deep sense of relief that someone else knew. She hadn't realized just how heavy the burden was until it was taken off her shoulders.
Spottedpaw thought back to her visions. "I know that it wasn't RiverClan," she mewed slowly, "and I think he – or she - acted alone. I also know that Rosethorn died quickly; she didn't have time to struggle or anything. She was ambushed. And the killer was smart; he managed to completely hide his – or her –scent from Rosethorn, and she didn't sense him or her until it was too late."
Jayflight's tail tip twitched. "Is that all?"
Spottedpaw blinked. What does he expect? That I know who did it? She nodded. "That's it."
Jayflight's eyes narrowed but he dismissed her with a twitch of his ears. "All right. You can go now."
Spottedpaw turned and padded back into the clearing, anxious to tell Whitestar about her dreams. Even if Jayflight knew, she should still tell Whitestar.
She skidded to a stop and stared in frustration when she saw Whitestar's distinctive fur among those sitting vigil for Rosethorn. She couldn't interrupt the vigil. Spottedpaw blinked up at the sky, paws prickling with disappointment. It was nearly sundown, and only those who were closest to Rosethorn would sit vigil for her now. She turned and padded slowly to the apprentices' den, tail drooping and head bowed, and curled up in her nest, asleep almost as soon as her eyes closed.
