It was only a few heartbeats later that Briarrose poked her head back out and gestured for Patches to follow her with a jerk of her head. Heart heavy, he obeyed. He had recognized that look in her eyes when she had looked upward. Skygaze got that expression whenever he had seen a sign. But he had never seen that expression of hopeless terror before. If she wanted him to hear it, it could only be about him.
"I have received a sign," she meowed to him without preamble as soon as he was in the shadowy den where Darkstar made his nest. "and it concerns you."
Can I have an extra piece of freshkill for guessing right? He wondered sourly. "Why am I not surprised?" he sighed out loud, "My life is one long prophesy."
She gave him a sympathetic look, "Cats that Starclan favor rarely have peaceful lives. But they do have full lives, and if they do their best to fulfill the path laid for them, they are guaranteed a place in Starclan.
Patches nodded in weary assent. It wasn't like he could change the fact by arguing after all.
With a glance at her clan leader, Briarrose intoned, "Darkness consumes all, leaving the land barren. Light and shadows plunges into the heart and tears it asunder."
Patches squeezed his eyes shut and took in a slow deep breath.
"Patches, does this mean anything to you?" Darkstar asked when he had been silent for a long moment.
"Only that if I don't do something, the clans will be destroyed."
"We got that." Briarrose meowed, with a hint of frustrated impatience. "Do you have any idea what heart you are supposed to tear asunder?"
He shook his head.
"Anything at all, even the strangest guesses may help."
"Possibly something to do with the crows," Patches ground out slowly, "But I can't rip the heart out of every crow around the lake."
"No," Darkstar's shoulders slumped. "No cat could even if every clan around the lake called upon every kit, queen, warrior and elder to help. Briarrose, please let me know if you have any dreams that clarify this prophesy."
"We are going to the Moonpool tonight," the medicine cat reminded him, "I can ask our warrior ancestors if they can clarify."
"Take Patches." Darkstar ordered, "He'll be no good for patrols or combat training, but he has experience fighting the crows. He is a good warrior to take with you. Don't worry," he added to Patches, "the other warriors going with their medicine cats will be under a similar truce to a Gathering. Perhaps you can show them your technique so they can protect their own clan mates from these flying vermin."
Briarrose stared at her leader in shock.
"It is one move," he reminded her, "And it is a move that Shadowclan doesn't need to hide because Patches knows it from elsewhere. We are not giving away any clan secrets, Briarrose." He glanced at Patches, "Go ahead and rest; it will be a long night tonight, keeping watch over the medicine cats."
He almost managed to hold back the wince, as though reminded of one more thing that was wrong around the lake.
As Patches padded out of Darkstar's den, he heard Briarrose meow gently, "Don't let Sparkfire's betrayal shake your confidence, my leader. Patches shares no blood with our clan, and yet he has proven loyal. He is an example to every cat, and many look up to him for it."
The Manx's ears warmed at the complement.
"I wish I was going with you," Burnpaw said enviously as he explained to her where he was going that night.
"I will let you know what it looks like," he promised.
Eight cats met up that night; Stonestripe and the new warrior Mudslide from Thunderclan, Appleseed and the warrior Icychill from Riverclan, Fawnspot and the warrior Redember from Windclan, and Briarrose and the warrior Patches of Shadowclan. By apparent silent mutual agreement, the medicine cat apprentices seemed to have been left at camp for this trip.
The Moonpool was a beautiful place, and as the eight cats padded along the path, Patches could see the water; so clear and still that for a second he thought a chunk of the night sky had been captured and spilled into the spot. A small ache rose in his chest as he thought about the Starpool back in his old clan.
"Keep your ears pricked," Fawnspot meowed, "If they can interrupt a gathering, they can interrupt us here."
Appleseed winced visibly. Patches had noticed the Medicine cat walking funny, and Icychill admitted in an undertone that he had been severely injured during a fox attack only a few moons before.
The four medicine cats grew still as they took a small tongue full of the clear water and padded off into dreams to speak with Starclan.
"I saw you leap at that crow at the gathering," Mudslide meowed softly. "Could you teach us that move?"
"The crows are getting bolder, especially in Windclan," Redember admitted, then closed his mouth quickly before he admitted anything else.
"I think we should all learn it," Icychill pressed, "The crows are a danger to us all; we've all seen that at the Gathering."
Patches nodded, remembering Darkstar's encouragement, "Gather your legs beneath you. Position yourself as though you are sitting." He demonstrated, and all three cats followed suit, watching him carefully.
"Keep most of your weight on your hind legs. You want your hind end to do the crouching. Then thrust upward and slash with both front legs." Patches leaped and lashed out with his claws, slicing the air.
"Don't you want to grab the bird around the neck and drag it to the earth?" Mudslide asked.
Patches shook his head. "This move is meant to meet a diving crow from the front. Crows have sharp beaks and strong claws. They are too big to hold from the front or easily break their neck in a hunters bite. The last thing you want is to pull an angry, slashing, and pecking crow close to your face, chest or belly."
The cats nodded vigorously. Patches watched the three other warriors and helped them adjust their balance and positions. "Slash and let go." He advised. "You want to hurt the crow and make it flee. Unlike other birds, they are not as helpless on the ground."
It seemed as though only a few heartbeats passed before the four Medicine cats stirred and shook themselves. Appleseed seemed particularly happy, but all he would say was that he was looking forward to the birth of some kits in a moon or so.
A crow cawed in the far distance and every warrior flinched; darting glances in its direction, and then hopefully back at the Medicine cats. But none of them said a word about the crows; merely sharing a glance and then turning to pad toward the path from the Moonpool.
Before they all separated, each of the warriors thanked Patches for the move and promised to teach it to other cats in case the crows attacked.
"I take it you didn't get anything new out of… um, Starclan." Patches said quietly as they slid under the cover of Shadowclan's pine scented forest.
"No. I didn't." Briarrose growled curtly.
"I wish I knew," Patches hissed in frustration, "I wish I knew what to do. Please believe me Briarrose. If I knew what to do, I'd circle the whole lake four times if I had to."
She sighed and slumped, "I'm not blaming you Patches, and I don't doubt for a heartbeat that you would try until your life bled out to help the clan. Starclan had nothing new for me, and I am no closer to helping any cat. The only good thing about this whole day was Snowpaw finding an untouched patch of comfrey above the effects of the poison."
Wearily, the two cats returned to the camp. It seemed only Burnpaw and Flametail, who was on guard, was still awake. In hushed tones, Patches described the Moonpool to his eager apprentice, and then sent her off to her nest with a gentle swat at her tail.
Sighing, he slid into the warrior's den. Nightsky opened her eyes briefly as he padded in. Her beautiful eyes sparkled faintly as she took in the way he slouched to the only nest available. Rising slightly, she touched her nose to his shoulder, and gave a faint purr. "You rescued me," she whispered. 'You brought me home. You saved Silverleopard's life. You earned the respect of the clan and the right to mentor an apprentice. Whatever's laying on your shoulders, remember what you've already done."
He touched his nose to her ear gently in thanks and watched as she sank back into sleep. Finally, sleep pulled at him and he dropped his nose onto his paws.
It was dark. Darker than Patches had ever seen in the camp. No moon rose above the forest. A thunderous caw made him jump, and crows the size of Monsters plummeted down upon the camp. His legs felt frozen as he stared upward in horror. It seemed impossible that so many of the monstrous birds loomed over him. Malignant black eyes glared downward, and another pair of birds dropped like falling trees. Their massive wings blotted out the sky. Cats wailed and screeched as they struggled to fight, to flee, to do anything. Tabbypath bolted across the clearing, aiming for the Medicine Cat's den. He never made it. A massive clawed foot came down, flattening him to the earth. His last conscious act was to stretch a paw in the direction of Spottedleopard's hiding place, mouth open in a soundless cry. The booming cries of the crows sounded like peals of thunder. Yet another crow plunged down, a sweeping wing ripping the sheltering foliage away from the Medicine cat's den. A beak plunged down.
"Briarrose! No!" Snowpaw's voice cried out.
The massive bird tossed its head back and swallowed.
The cries of cats was fading now, and the paralysis that held Patches was gone. He threw himself at the nearest monstrous bird's chest, claws flashing, but they merely slid off the sleek feathers. A beak stabbed downward, missing Patches' body by a mouse tail. The two sharp points of the upper and lower beak hit the ground like a falling tree and embedded briefly in the earth. Not wasting any time, he darted beneath its body and leaped upon its tail, scrambling and slipping as he tried to climb its back.
Darkness began to lessen and he watched in horror as the leaves and needles of the foliage crumbled into dust before his eyes. The bark on the trees was stripped away, leaving the trunks and branches bare and white like bleached bones.
Impossibly agile, the massive bird twisted its head around and glared at the frantic Manx. The beak parted and a voice croaked out, cold and emotionless.
"Darkness consumes all, leaving the land barren. Light and shadows plunges into the heart and tears it asunder."
Then the massive wings spread and the giant bird carried him high into the air. The Shadowclan territory dwindled beneath him, then the lake, then all the territories, until the lake was a puddle and the surrounding trees were twigs. What had been a clear lake was muddied and all about the lake the devastation could be seen. Trees were overturned, underbrush flattened. For a second he couldn't tell if it was trees bleached in the cold, dim light, or the bones of cats.
The massive bird heaved beneath his paws and Patches flailed as the slippery feathers slipped out of his grip. He woke with a gasp and a jerk an instant before his body hit the hard earth far below.
With a great effort and trembling paws, he hauled himself to his paws and pushed out of the Warrior's den. Moonlight streamed down between the trees, filtered into a gentle, diffuse glow. A night bird called out, and not a crow could be heard. A breeze rustled the needles, and the rich scent of pine reassured him that the territory was unaffected by the terrible devastation in his dream.
Patches grit his teeth. I don't know what you want from me! He thought furiously at the silent night sky, Tell me what this heart is! Don't play games with me just because I come from another clan! What do I have to do to prove I'm loyal to your clan mates and to your clan?
"Patches?"
The warrior swallowed a gasp and turned to see Snowpaw peering out at him from the Medicine Cat's den. Seeing the troubled look in his eyes, she slipped out and gestured with her tail for him to follow.
"You look like you've had a dream. A really, really bad one too." She meowed softly as they sat outside the dirtplace.
Hesitantly Patches described to her what he had seen. She shook her head sadly. "I don't doubt for a moment that these crows could destroy the forest. We've seen the piles of bones. We've seen shadows flitting about so often we barely flinch at them anymore. Briarrose all but ordered Darkstar to refuse to let any cat out of camp without at least two others."
Despite his pounding heart, he could feel his whiskers twitch at the thought. "Did he take it well to be ordered about by his Medicine Cat?"
"Well her pelt is still intact, so I would take that as a good sign. He probably even agrees. Don't be surprised if those orders are given at the next clan meeting."
Slowly the amusement faded away as Patches glanced around again, remembering how the camp had been ripped apart by the attacking giant crows.
"Starclan sends us signs," Snowpaw meowed, breaking into his thoughts again, and her expression was serious once more, "They give us clues and visions. They almost never tell us, 'This is what is wrong and this is what must be done.' We are responsible for figuring it out for ourselves. If you don't know what something means, you may not have all the information yet."
Paws itching, he couldn't help but pace, "And how many cats must be hurt in the meantime? How many cats must suffer growling bellies, no herbs and danger to their lives before the clouds part and the light shows me what I should do?" If he'd had a tail, he would have lashed it.
"Our lives aren't meant to be warm sun and fat prey, Patches. We'd be kittypets if it was. The only thing we can do is keep our eyes open, our ears perked and our claws sharp. You'll find a way. I know you will."
He shook his head morosely and padded slowly back to his nest. Tomorrow would be a difficult day; he felt as though he had been fighting all night, and the moon was already sinking toward the horizon. Was he going to have another nightmare tonight? He wasn't sure he could take it.
Collapsing yet again into his nest, he was asleep almost as soon as his belly touched the soft lining. He didn't notice the warm chin come to rest between his broad shoulders and certainly wasn't aware of the soft purr that began a heartbeat later. The only thing he realized when he woke up later, was that his sleep had been both deep and dreamless. And, oddly, a spot between his shoulders felt cool, as though a source of warmth had left that area.