CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HOSTILE NEIGHBORS
A hitch caught in Redpaw's throat. For a moment, she wanted to collapse onto the ground next to her Clanmates and bury her muzzle in her dead mother's fur to grieve with the rest of them. Then she had a burning, seething desire to get back. To get back at those RiverClan creeps for stealing their prey, for stealing their land, and for stealing her mother's life.
"We have to fight back," she mewed, voice cracking.
"Oh, Redpaw, you're just upset," Tawnypelt meowed, resting her tail on Redpaw's shoulder to comfort her. "Why don't we get you to Mudfoot and get your wound cleaned up, huh? Then you can sit vigil for your mother."
Redpaw shrugged off her tail halfway through her suggestion. "I don't want herbs, or a vigil. I want to flay the RiverClan warriors, one by one. Starting with those mangy apprentices that attacked me!"
"Redpaw," Rowanstar meowed. "You're grieving. Go with Tawnypelt and get your wounds dressed. If your shoulder gets infected, you won't be doing much of anything anyway."
Redpaw growled something inaudible under her breath and allowed Tawnypelt to guide her to the medicine den, seething. She felt sick to her stomach, but that didn't stop the burning desire for revenge. At the same time, she knew she was being unreasonable, that she was grieving. Snowbird wouldn't want them to attack.
"Mudfoot, we could use your help," Tawnypelt meowed quietly, and the young brown-and-white tom poked his head up among his Clanmates. He wove his way toward them through the crowd and rested his tail on Redpaw's shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss."
They're making it worse, Redpaw realized. She wished they wouldn't directly acknowledge her loss like this. Snowbird was the only family she had besides Ratscar, Snowbird's brother. But he wasn't much company anyway, and she couldn't see him in the sea of heads bowed in grief. He was probably grieving on his own.
Redpaw stood still, tense and silent, as Mudfoot pressed cobwebs to stop the flow of blood on her shoulder. He couldn't do much for her muzzle or the bruises on her flanks, but he chewed up a green poultice that stung like fire and bound it with cobwebs. Then he sent her on her way after she downed thyme leaves for shock.
The cats parted to make a path for Redpaw as she stepped up to say goodbye to her mother. Redpaw set her jaw as she reached Snowbird. The white she-cat's limbs had been rearranged to make her look like she was only sleeping, and her pelt was slick with rosemary and lavender to help keep the death-scent at minimum. But Redpaw could still clearly see the droplets of blood on her muzzle and on her claws and the terrible wound at her throat that had killed her.
"Who did it?" she asked Ferretclaw, who was right beside her. Surprisingly, her voice came out steady, which was the exact opposite of what she felt.
Her mentor paused. "An apprentice named Stonepaw," he meowed finally, as if afraid of what might happen if he told her.
Redpaw still didn't look at him. "Ah," she said. Then she tucked her paws beneath her and rested her muzzle in her mother's fur, breathing in the cloying scent of the herbs.
The crowd simultaneously released a breath that Redpaw realized they hadn't been holding and began to crowd around her. The air was chilled, but the shared heat of her Clanmates around her kept Redpaw warm all night. She was so tired and upset about Snowbird's death that she ended up falling asleep.
Her dreams were dark and restless. It was no surprise, because Redpaw dreamed every night. Normally they were nightmares, of battles she thought she might have lived but didn't. Sometimes she couldn't tell dreams from wakefulness, and she'd wonder why no one else's pelts were scarred with scratches like the ones she had so clearly felt in her dreams.
But this dream was different. Her mother was never in her dreams, so when Redpaw saw her standing at the edge of camp, she let out a cry of delight and took off to greet her. Maybe her mother had reached StarClan and had come back to visit her!
A gray shape crashed out of the bushes and took Snowbird down, viciously tearing into her with claws and teeth. Redpaw's yowl of joy turned into a caterwaul of horror. She couldn't move forward or back, just had to stand there and watch it go on. Her legs seemed rooted to the ground as firmly as if she were a tree.
Straining against whatever was holding her down, Redpaw struggled to get a glimpse of her mother's killer. As Snowbird's dying wail was cut off, the gray tom shoved her away and licked the blood from his paws. His head turned as if he just realized Redpaw was there and caught her eye.
It's just a dream! Redpaw screamed inwardly. It's just a dream! Look away! Wake up! Do something!
She closed her eyes, struggling to move. It's a dream! You can beat it! She continued to try and calm herself, trying not to dwell on the fact that her mother's corpse, surrounded by a pool of blood, was right in front of her.
Redpaw heard the drumming of running pawsteps. What's happening? What's happening? She wondered, with her eyes still shut. She looked up, but Stonepaw hadn't moved. She gasped in a breath as she realized it was no longer Stonepaw.
It was Blackpaw.
"Redpaw. Redpaw, wake up!" hissed a voice next to her ear.
Redpaw sprang to her paws, pinning back her ears. She slid out her claws, ready to face her attacker. But it was only Ferretclaw, who had taken a step back as if he expected her to attack him.
Redpaw let out a relieved breath. "Ferretclaw. Sorry, I fell asleep. I was dreaming."
Her mentor gave her a sympathetic look. "It's time for burial, and then the Runners have to go. We've got a couple of replacements for you and Dawnpelt."
As he spoke, Redpaw had been smoothing her fur down, trying to look like she hadn't been watching cats die in her sleep all night. Her head shot up as she heard the word 'replacement', her tongue still half out. "Oh, no. I'm still going. I have to, Ferretclaw. You need healthy warriors back at camp to fight off the RiverClan raids. I'll be fine."
She knew it was a lie. Her shoulder still stung and she hadn't done anything but sleep. Running on that would hurt. I can do it, she thought, pushing the thoughts of pain away. She could talk herself out of pain if she just tried hard enough. If she was going to be a warrior, she'd have to. Blackpaw could do it, and so can I!
"They're direct orders from Rowanstar," her mentor told her.
Redpaw curled her lip. ShadowClan couldn't spare any more warriors to Run instead of her and Dawnpelt. I can't draw myself right into fights anymore, she decided. I have to evade them no matter what.
"I'm going to go talk to him," Redpaw meowed, and trotted past him, forcing herself to walk without favoring her injured shoulder. She met Rowanstar at the meager fresh-kill pile – containing a vole and a lizard – and called out his name. "Rowanstar, I have to keep Running."
Rowanstar let out a long-suffering sigh. "I figured you'd want to keep going," he said. "But I think it'd be better if you didn't."
"I'll be fine. It's not too hard for me," Redpaw told him. He still looked doubtful. "I enjoy it," she insisted, willing to say anything to keep Running.
"It doesn't matter if you enjoy it or not," Rowanstar told her, and Redpaw was reminded of a father reprimanding his kit. "If you come back with broken bones or wounds worse than that bite on your shoulder, you can't Run. And then what would we do?"
"Get two replacements, like you're trying to do now," Redpaw meowed, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I'm not dead yet, or at least nearly there. I can still keep going.
They locked eyes for a minute, both staring at each other stubbornly, and then Rowanstar finally looked away. I won! Redpaw thought triumphantly. I can keep Running!
"All right," Rowanstar sighed. "Avoid the RiverClan cats. If you see them, run in the other direction. Or climb a tree. Don't fight any more foxes or predators. I'll tell the other Runners to do the same. I don't want any more wounded. We can't spare any more warriors from camp."
"Exactly," Redpaw muttered, glad that he was finally coming up with a plan that made sense. She swallowed her pride and dipped her head. "Thank you for allowing me to keep Running." You need me, she didn't add. "I won't let you down."
Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.
Pain burst up and down Redpaw's leg as she ran. Rowanstar had been right. She shouldn't have kept Running. It had been another half-moon – she had been running for a moon and a half now – since she received her shoulder injury, and it still hurt. A couple of days ago, she had tripped and stumbled right into a holly bush, tearing the wound back open. Running on it hadn't done any good for it.
But still she ran.
Keep going!
The RiverClan attacks had been getting worse. Redpaw had been caught several times by a RiverClan patrol. A few times she had fought, and she'd received an extra scar on her muzzle and a torn ear. Minor injuries, but enough to make her surrender over her prey the next time she encountered them. One more injury and she couldn't Run at all.
Go, go, go!
Redpaw didn't linger at the gorge or at the river any longer than she had to. Ever since her mother's death she had been quieter, keeping her thoughts to herself. Whenever the other apprentices called out a greeting, she would merely nod or wave her tail. She was wasting time out here. If she was back at camp, she could help fight if there was a raid.
You are ShadowClan. You are strong.
Oh, yes. The raids grew more frequent. Redpaw had stumbled across them a few times, all of RiverClan attacking directly into camp. Every cat was left with injuries and Snaketail, the elder, had been fatally wounded as a warning that RiverClan would be back for ShadowClan's prey. Mudfoot was able to save him, but only just.
Don't quit yet!
Redpaw was desperate to continue Running. She took different routes in ShadowClan territory. A few times she wondered if ThunderClan would help them, but she doubted Rowanstar would want to ask and show weakness. If ThunderClan refused, they could have another Clan wanting to take their territory and what little prey the Runners carried back. ShadowClan would break.
Redpaw skidded to a halt next to the tree bridge. Pricklepaw and Blackpaw had been leaving what meager prey they could catch – now that leaf-bare had hit them in full force, it seemed that both sets of Hunters she picked prey up from had found less and less of it in their respectable territories – on her side of the river.
Panting, Redpaw allowed herself to rest for a few seconds, chest heaving. Okay, that's it. Break's over. Back to work. Sometimes she wondered if she'd keel over running this hard. As long as she didn't, she'd keep going, this hard and this fast. She bent her head and picked up the scrawny blackbird in her jaws, along with the small trout Frogpaw had caught. If RiverClan caught her today, she wouldn't have much to surrender.
A pained, feline screech cut through the silent air. Redpaw's fur stood on end. She dropped the prey and darted towards the sound, all instincts intent on finding the source.
"Pricklepaw!"
She heard the screech up ahead. It was Blackpaw. She threw a glance over her right shoulder and saw the big white tom charging toward the source of the sound, his white pelt almost invisible between the snowy trees. So it was Pricklepaw in trouble. Good, because she didn't know what she'd do if it was Blackpaw. Turn around and walk away? Keep running toward him? She hadn't trusted him as a kit, and she didn't feel any warmer toward him now. But if it was Pricklepaw…
There were barks and shrieks up ahead, and it sounded like quite the fight.
Fox. The word registered in Redpaw's brain before she could think straight. Instantly she was swept up in a flood of images of fighting the russet creatures. She saw her own claws, spattered with blood, raking the beast over the eyes, sending it backwards with a shove of her paws, or springing off, tasting its foul blood in her mouth.
Suddenly, heavy bulk hit her in the side, sending her out of her daydream. Redpaw sprawled onto the ground, landing on her injured shoulder. She clamped her teeth down on a yelp of pain; she had trained herself not to show weakness in front of others, especially since Rowanstar didn't want her Running.
"What are you doing, you flea-brain?" Blackpaw hissed, his face whiskers away from hers. "That fox could have killed you!"
Redpaw shook her head, confused. Blood spattered in every direction. That didn't make sense. She wasn't bleeding, even though she had landed on that shoulder. She sprang to her feet, casting wild glances around the clearing.
The fox had Pricklepaw in its jaws and was shaking him, like a dog would. Blackpaw sunk his teeth into the fox's neck, hanging on with his huge black paws and not letting go. The fox let out a howl, dropped Pricklepaw, and whirled, snapping its teeth at Blackpaw. It caught him in the side and he lost his grip on the thing, his blood leaking out of the new wound and onto the snow.
Redpaw forced herself into a crouching position and pounced, hitting the fox from the opposite side Blackpaw was on. It spun around, spraying snow. A low growl worked its way out of Blackpaw's throat and it looked back at him, baring its teeth in a snarl. Redpaw lashed out, slashing at its muzzle viciously. Its head jerked forward, but she drew her paw back before it could chomp down on it.
"Get Pricklepaw," Blackpaw growled.
The tabby tom moaned from where he lay on the ground. The sound drew the fox's attention and he lunged for the apprentice, whose fur was slick with his own blood. Redpaw let out a yowl and sprang at the same time Blackpaw did. They both crashed into the fox and the three of them went down in a tangle of fur and teeth.
"I told you to get Pricklepaw!" Blackpaw hissed, taking a chunk of flesh out of the fox's shoulder.
"Well, sorry that I was trying to protect him from a stupid fox!" Redpaw snapped back as she pummeled the fox's flank with her hind paws. She sank her teeth into the fox's spine and the creature whirled, bucking and trying to fling them off.
Finally both apprentices let go and the fox ran off without any prey to show for it.
"That was really stupid, Redpaw!" Blackpaw meowed.
"What, that I attacked the fox? I was protecting him," Redpaw spat angrily, flicking her tail at Pricklepaw, who was trying to push himself to his feet.
"No, that you can't follow directions! You can't just do your own thing," Blackpaw growled.
"Well, I did." Redpaw couldn't think of anything.
"If you would have just gotten Pricklepaw to safety, the fox wouldn't have even lunged for him!" Blackpaw snapped, thrusting his face into hers.
"Oh, you couldn't have handled that thing on your own," Redpaw taunted. She didn't even care that she had to look up meet his eyes. "It was a vixen. A she-fox. Do you know how vicious those things are? Full-grown warriors need help fighting those things off."
"How do you know I couldn't have handled it?" Blackpaw's voice raised in agitation.
"Because I–"
"Stop it!"
Both apprentices stopped and looked over at Pricklepaw, who wasn't looking well. One of his eyes were half-closed. One of his back legs was twisted at an awkward angle, and there were deep puncture wounds – bite marks – on his flanks.
"This isn't the time to fight." Pricklepaw's voice was faint, as if he had used almost all of his energy stopping them from continuing their fight.
Redpaw was almost glad. She and Blackpaw were so close they were nearly cross-eyed, and his claws were out. He might have attacked her, and she didn't feel like fighting the black-pawed warrior now.
"Fine," Blackpaw spat. "Redpaw, you go."
"We should get you some cobwebs. And herbs," Redpaw meowed at the same time. They swung around and glared at one another, their rage stirring.
Pricklepaw was clearly in lots of pain. "Cobwebs, yes," he whispered. "A-A-And…"
Redpaw and Blackpaw rushed forward, anger forgotten, as Pricklepaw collapsed.
"Oh, StarClan, don't let him die," Blackpaw muttered, pressing his large black paw to Pricklepaw's wounds to stop the flow of blood. It wasn't enough, and soon his paw was covered in Pricklepaw's blood.
"Cobwebs, and something else. He was going to tell us an herb, but…" Redpaw racked her tired brain for any thought of the kind of herb Mudfoot had used on her shoulder. "Something with orange flowers…marigold!"
"Can you find any?" Blackpaw asked anxiously.
"I don't know! I'm not a medicine cat." Redpaw was worried about Pricklepaw, but she was a little annoyed that Blackpaw was the only cat conscious to share her anxiety. "I'll look around for that and cobwebs."
Redpaw tore off into the trees. The wind was harsh this cold season, so there probably wouldn't be any cobwebs about. She looked around for something she could use. Snow? Tree bark? She glanced at the trees more closely. They were pines, just like home.
Suddenly, Redpaw had an idea. She reared up on her back legs and brought her paws down on the top, frozen layer of snow. It broke and the icy white stuff flew everywhere. Redpaw began to dig frantically, well aware that her forelegs and chest were soaked by the time she reached solid ground. It was well frozen, but there was a layer of orange pine needles still on it. She scooped up mouthfuls of the soaked needles in her teeth and turned around, bumping heads with Blackpaw.
"Watch it!" Blackpaw snapped. He had carried Pricklepaw under the shelter of the trees. He dug a crevice in the snow where Pricklepaw's body heat would keep him warm.
Redpaw nudged the frozen pine needles toward him with a paw. "Use these to stop the bleeding. They're just as good as cobwebs and they'll probably numb it. I can't find any herbs, though."
"Will you get some from camp next time you go back?" Blackpaw asked as he took the needles and pressed them to their denmate's chest.
"Yeah. I'd better go. If he wakes up, put snow on it for numbing," Redpaw told him, because that was all she could think of. If only Mudfoot were here… "I'll be back soon."
"I hope so," Blackpaw muttered.
Redpaw turned around, alarmed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Blackpaw grumbled, and looked away.
But Redpaw wouldn't be evaded so easily. "I'm not going to abandon Pricklepaw," she meowed. "Now, for you, it might be a different story." She was only half joking.
"Would it really?" Blackpaw asked, swinging around to meet her gaze for the first time. His paws, still covered in blood, were pressing the pine needles firmly to Pricklepaw's throat. He might look like he knew what he was doing if they weren't trembling so much. "If Pricklepaw and my positions were switched, would you just run off to camp and not come back with the herbs?"
"I was joking, Blackpaw," Redpaw meowed. "Because of when we were kits."
"A true warrior never abandons his Clanmates in a time of need," Blackpaw responded, as if he hadn't heard her. "Or her Clanmates."
"Since when did you become so noble and serious?" Redpaw grumbled, and stood up as tall as she could, dropping her voice about six octaves to imitate Blackpaw. "I am thy great Blackpaw. Great warriors learn from great–"
"I don't sound like that," Blackpaw growled. "Now get back to camp before this cat bleeds to death. Then it'd be your fault, and you'd have to live with the guilt. And if you tried to cry on my shoulder, I'd claw your ears off."
Redpaw narrowed her eyes. "Fine." She flicked her tail indifferently as she walked away and threw the last words over her shoulder, "You know, Blackpaw, you might sound dangerous if you weren't shaking that hard."
Go, go, go, got to keep running! For Pricklepaw!
The burn ran up and down Redpaw's legs and through her body, touching each hair on her pelt and jolting to the end of her tail. But this time, she welcomed the burn, trying to think of how bad the pain that Pricklepaw was experiencing may be. She couldn't stop, because she didn't want him to suffer.
She skidded into ShadowClan territory, pausing to drop the trout and the blackbird so she could scent the air. No RiverClan was around. At least, not now. She was about halfway back to camp when she lifted her head to sniff the air. RiverClan scent was everywhere.
Oh, StarClan, help my Clanmates, Redpaw thought anxiously. She hoped nothing bad had happened. What if she was walking directly into a raid? She would have to fight, and then she couldn't get back to Pricklepaw right away.
But despite the enemy scent, the air was still. All the birds and animals were gone, and the wind was silent today. The whole forest seemed to be waiting with a bated breath. Redpaw sensed something bad was happening.
She heard a single cat meowing up ahead in camp, and prayed that Rowanstar was apprenticing kits, or performing a rare elders' ceremony. But Shrewfoot's kits weren't even born yet and no one should be ready to retire yet. But the way there was no cheering and the way it was dead silent except for the single voice, Redpaw knew something bad was going to happen.
Wham! Something slammed into her head, knocking her down. The prey flew out of her jaws and landed on the snow in front of her.
"Well, well, well, isn't it nice to see you again, Smallpaw?" sneered a familiar voice.
"Stonepaw," Redpaw hissed, straining her eyes to see up into the amber gaze of her attacker. "What are you doing here, you coward?"
Stonepaw ignored her question, taking his paw off her neck. She stood up, ready for an attack. He padded over and hooked the trout on his claws. "Where'd you get this, huh, Smallpaw? ShadowClan territory's devoid of prey life."
"So you think," Redpaw snapped without a blink. "Maybe RiverClan cats aren't smart enough to find it."
Stonepaw snarled. "I'm not starting all of that 'RiverClan hunting land prey' mouse dung. But I suspect Reedstar's expecting you back at camp, so let's go."
"Reedstar?" Redpaw asked. "I'm not going to RiverClan camp."
"Of course not," Stonepaw purred. "You're going to ShadowClan camp. Your home."
He hovered over her shoulder the whole time they were going back to camp, muttering dark words around the prey that he was carrying. Redpaw seethed beneath her skin; that prey belonged to ShadowClan! But she couldn't afford a fight if she was to continue to Run later on today.
Stonepaw gave her a hard shove through the brambles that surrounded camp, and the thorns scratched at her. She pushed her way through, leaving ginger fur on the thorns. She refused to yelp and show weakness in front of the ignorant RiverClan apprentice, though, and continued on flexing her claws in fury.
Countless pairs of eyes looked in their direction. Redpaw's jaw nearly hit the ground. She hadn't seen the RiverClan cats for at least a week since the patrol of four cats had raided the camp of their food one night. They seemed so big, all in a circle around the ragged ShadowClan cats. Their pelts were glossy and their eyes were bright, as if they were actually content.
"What's going on?" Redpaw demanded, and swung around to face Stonepaw.
At the same time, he clouted her in the face with claws unsheathed. Blood dripped into Redpaw's eyes. "Welcome to your new prison," Stonepaw meowed, and gave her a shove toward the rest of the cats.
"What? I don't get – hey!" Redpaw yowled as a RiverClan cat yanked her back by her tail. The recognized the sturdy she-cat as Rushtail, the deputy. "What are you doing?!"
"RiverClan has taken ShadowClan's territory into full custody," Rushtail explained to her. "Any ShadowClan prey is RiverClan's prey. Any ShadowClan territory is RiverClan's territory. Any ShadowClan cats are the subject of RiverClan's abuse. You hungry?"
Redpaw spat on the ground.
"Good. Because you won't be eating for a long, long time," Rushtail meowed. She lowered her head, which confused Redpaw, until her head snaked forward and she nipped Redpaw sharply on the flank. Redpaw flinched in reflex but didn't make a sound. "Well, as Stonepaw said….
"Welcome to your new home. Or shall we call it prison? Yes, let's go with that, because you won't be sneaking off to bring any more of your measly prey back to this pathetic excuse of a Clan. I hope you've prepared to stay here for a long, long time."