Sweet StarClan, this was a long chapter. I hope it's worth it!
Moon of the Flowering Trees, 15th Sun
Morning dawned, and the world seemed fresh and clear. The clouds of storm and smoke had been swept away during the night, and the LightningClan camp was pleasantly pungent with the scent of wet earth. Seeing it made getting soaked almost worthwhile.
Twilightpaw sneezed and shivered, stretching out as far as she could to absorb more of the sunlight. Fortunately the day would warm up fairly quickly, but for now she was still freezing and had probably caught a cold. She sneezed again.
There was something important about today, she knew, and as she tried to lick warmth into her pelt she remembered what it was. The meeting with Fluffy. She had no way of telling him that she couldn't make it, and she certainly did not have the courage to sneak out of camp in broad sunlight. The only way she thought she could get away with it was to join a patrol of the DarkClan border and quickly talk to him.
"Don't lick your fur," Stormheart called out to her as he emerged from his den. "You'll only make yourself colder. Do some stretches instead."
"I'd be warmer still if I could join the dawn patrol," she informed him wearily.
"Sorry, dear. Not my decision. Ask Burningfur or Rapidstar."
Burningfur was up and around, but Twilightpaw would rather eat brambles than ask her for anything. Rapidstar was still in his den, and he was not known for his pleasantness early in the mornings. After so many years of fighting and injury his bones were starting to ache, a common ailment of the older warriors. Yet another reason why Twilightpaw didn't like the thought of joining them.
With a sigh she hopped out of her soaking nest and onto the wet sand and began her stretches. They did warm her slightly, but they also made her hungry, and she could not eat until everyone in the Clan had finished. That looked like it might be a while away; the prey in the fresh-kill pile was soaked and sandy, so they'd probably all go out hunting and eat in their own sweet time.
"No self-pity," she reminded herself firmly, and went to make dirt. When she got back, the camp was more active, and the apprentices were out and about.
"Sleep well?" Valiantpaw called out to her as they formed a group, ready for the Scourings.
"You know it," she replied with a half-grin, before spoiling the effect by sneezing loudly.
"You sound like you've got a cold. Do you need anything for that?" This came from Skypaw, of course. "I have feverfew and lavender and citrus leaves…" she trailed off, frowning in thought.
"Maybe when we get back," Twilightpaw said, hopping from one paw to the other to try and stay warm. For the first time ever she wanted to run the Scourings.
"Morning all," Longpaw said cheerfully as he trotted to join them. For a moment, they all stared; he hadn't greeted them so cheerfully for what seemed like years. Valiantpaw caught Twilightpaw's eye, and she shrugged at him; he flicked his tail in the cat's version of a thumbs-up.
As they ambled out towards the starting line Twilightpaw felt a strange prickling in the back of her neck, as though she was being watched. She glanced around at her companions, but none of them seemed to be looking at her. Yet the feeling continued to grow stronger until her skin burned instead of crawled. She dropped to the back, just to be certain it wasn't the others, and every few seconds she would quickly twist her neck around to see if there was anyone behind her.
"There is no-one there, Twilightpaw," the hare said, sounding worried.
How do you know? she snapped in response. He didn't reply, and she felt a pang of guilt. Up until that point he had been loping by her side; now he turned and moved purposefully towards a stalk of yellow flowers. He inclined his head to her.
She quickly glanced ahead to check if any of them were looking back before following him to the plant. It had a rich, sweet scent that reminded her a little of mint leaves, and she opened her jaws wider to taste it. The flowers were shaped like tiny yellow stars.
Why did you want me to see this? she asked him.
"The ameslari," the hare murmured back. "Didn't she mention that rosin rose would be good for you?"
I'm not sick. I'm pretty sure someone is watching me. I just need to find out who it is… she paused. Are you certain nobody is there?
"As certain as I can be. This is a moor. It's flat. If anyone could be seen, they would be. Just eat it, Twilightpaw. It can't hurt and it might help."
The other cats were too far away to overhear her now, so she spoke aloud. "Hey, you're giving me straightforward advice instead of nonsensical wisdom. What happened?"
"Maybe as you become madder, I grow more sane," the hare responded dryly. It was probably meant as a joke, but something about the words pricked her pelt. She bent to eat. The flowers tasted as good as they smelt.
"Not bad," she told him. "If I ever had to survive on plants—"
"You couldn't survive on plants. No cat can. Canines, yes. Felines, no." He looked up at the retreating figures of the cats. "We'd better get going before we're missed. We break the rules far too often as it is."
"Why do you care?" she wanted to know. "Why do you help me? You're not even real."
"You called for me and so here I am. Let's go."
"That doesn't explain anything."
"Perhaps because there is nothing to explain. Go."
Grumbling, she trotted back onto the path and after her Clanmates.
Valiantpaw was in one of those rare moods of his when he actually wanted to try at things, so she ran third in the resulting Scourings. Cloudpaw was surprisingly close behind her. Long-furred and fluffy he might be, but weak he was not. He would make a fine warrior in his own right once he grew out of his adolescent awkwardness.
She caught up with Longpaw at the camp just as he was starting on a small rabbit. He offered to share it with her, but she refused straight away. That was just begging for another Swallowing, and she was due for another one tomorrow in any case. She was incredibly touched by his gesture, though. One of the worst parts of her punishment was the sheer loneliness of it all. Twilightpaw had always thought of herself as a solitary cat, and that was to a certain extent true, but there was a difference between choosing your own company above others and being forced into exile.
"I have a favour to ask of you," she said once he'd eaten a sizeable amount of the rabbit carcass.
He swallowed a bite and tilted his head towards her. "Why do I always get this feeling of doom when I hear those words? What is it, Twilightpaw?"
She hesitated for a few moments, then came clean about her deal with Fluffy and his subsequent request to meet with her. She said nothing about where she had met him in the first place.
"And I really want to find out about Deathstar, but I don't see how I can get out of camp on my own. I'd need a hunting partner, someone who's totally trusted by the Clan."
"I'm flattered," Longpaw said. "But…I don't know, Twilightpaw. He might have been friendly to you, but he's still an outrunner. They can't be trusted. They don't have the same ideas about honour and promises that we do."
"I know, Cloakedpaw said that as well." A slight crease appeared between Longpaw's brows, but she ignored it and moved on. "But I think I need to do this. If I don't, I'll always wonder what might have been. Besides, if Deathstar really is up to something terrible…"
"You have no proof of that," he reminded her. "You have the word of an apprentice—an enemy Clan apprentice, at that—"
"DarkClan isn't our enemy," she objected. He ignored this.
"An apprentice from another Clan told you about something he saw while sneaking out of camp as a kit. Not only is that completely uncorroborated, and unable to be corroborated, but he later on appears to regret telling you this. What does that sound like?"
"I don't know. Like he doesn't want to get involved with a conspiracy theory?"
"Or that he was lying before."
"What? That's stupid. Why would he lie about seeing his Clan leader covered in blood?"
"Maybe to impress you." To her astonishment, Longpaw seemed to be deadly serious. "To make himself sound important, like he knows all sorts of secrets about the inner workings of his Clan. But now you're taking it really seriously and have set someone to tailing his Clan leader. Not only does that make him pretty much a traitor, you're about to find out that what he told you isn't true and he's embarrassed."
She listened to him and considered his words for approximately five seconds. Then she shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I know him, and he's not the type to make a big lie just to sound cool."
It was Longpaw's turn to pause. "He's from another Clan, Twilightpaw."
She frowned at him. "Um. Yes. I get that. I'm not that stupid."
"No, that's not—he's from another Clan."
Realization struck her like a lightning bolt. "StarClan above, Longpaw! It's not like that! I really, really am not that stupid."
"If you say so," he replied doubtfully.
"I do say so. I've never even thought—ugh. No. No way." She curled her lip.
There was a few moments of very awkward silence between them before Longpaw broke it.
"All right. I know I can't stop you from going, so I'm coming with you. Just to be safe."
She was about to make some snide remark about keeping her away from Cloakedpaw, but her mind shut it down before she could form the words. She didn't even want to think about that. The idea of a mate, of a tom liking her enough to consider her as a potential mate, was ridiculous and disturbing enough as it was.
Instead, she simply said: "Can you ask Crimsonflame? She'd say no if I put the idea to her, but she's been wanting us to be friends again for ages." The memory of her mentor's attempt to reconcile them was still somewhat painful. Longpaw nodded in response and padded away. Twilightpaw watched him catch up to Crimsonflame, and though she couldn't hear their voices she noticed the way Longpaw's ears lifted.
"Good news?" she asked hopefully as he returned, and he grinned at her. The smile seemed a little forced, but she pretended not to notice. "All right, let's get going."
"Why? It's still a few hours before sunhigh, and you haven't eaten yet."
"I can eat when we get back," she replied, "and we should probably do some actual hunting first, so they don't suspect anything." She also didn't want to hang around camp in case one of the warriors decided to complete her Swallowing a little early. It had happened before.
Longpaw shrugged, and followed her out of camp—through the front entrance, for a nice change. "This sort of reminds me of when we all went to meet Rapidstar," he said thoughtfully. "It's strange…it was only a moon ago, yet it feels like years."
Twilightpaw stopped. "Actually, while we do have the time…should we go back to the rock we were at last night to see what happened to SnowClan territory? The rain put the fire out, didn't it?"
"Yes and no," Longpaw said, already walking in the rock's direction. "It's not a threat anymore, but it's still burning. The dawn patrol said that it's mostly in RainClan territory now, and there isn't a lot of fuel for it there. It'll die out in the next few days, I guess."
"Still, unlucky for RainClan. Burningfur told me once that greenleaf is the worst season of all for them, because it's so hot that they always run low on water and most of their prey dies or goes somewhere else."
"They can't be suffering too much. They're the second biggest Clan in the territories."
Twilightpaw thought about this. "I…RainClan gives away many of their kits to the Children of the Dark, I heard. That's why they've never been numerous…until now. I think Shadowstar has started keeping more of their litters than usual, because she thought she would get SnowClan's territory and have more prey to feed them. That's why she was so desperate to blame Clawstar for everything, because she knew her Clan would starve if they didn't win hunting rights to the land. This greenleaf will be hard for them."
"RainClan lost warriors in the HollowClan battle," Longpaw pointed out. "And I don't think anyone would care if they hunted in SnowClan territory now. Plus, everyone knows that they take prey from DarkClan territory when they're really hungry. DarkClan just has so much that it's not worth risking war over it."
"Yeah. It's funny, isn't it, how everyone's so scared of DarkClan when they're probably nicer than all the other Clans put together. I mean, look what we're planning to do." She chuckled until she caught sight of Longpaw's incredulous expression. "Not that they're our friends," she amended hastily.
His face didn't change.
She sighed and they continued on in silence until they reached the base of the rock, and she stopped dead. Oh, StarClan. And damn me.
The last time she had climbed the rock it had not seemed so tall in the dark and she had been focussed on Longpaw. Now, without either of those factors, it seemed enormous, stabbing into the deep blue sky like a stag's antler. She could see sections where the stone had cracked away—were those from her paws the previous time she had climbed it? As her eyes travelled up and down its height she felt nauseous.
Longpaw had no such reservations about the height and he scrambled up it easily. A few flakes crackled beneath his feet and slid to the earth. She could scarcely hear the sound over her thumping heart, and her mouth was unaccountably dry.
"Come on, Twilightpaw," Longpaw called with a hint of impatience. "What are you waiting for, a bird to carry you up?"
This was so humiliating. A cat that was afraid of heights. She looked around for her hare, hoping he could guide her up as he had the previous time, but he was stretched out peacefully on the grass and seemed to be dozing.
"Um," she replied, ears turning hot, "I'm okay. You can just tell me what you see."
Longpaw stuck his head over the edge to look at her. It made her gut twitch just to see it. "Why?"
She shrugged. "Not worth the effort."
He didn't buy it, damn him. "Are you…scared of heights? But you climbed up here last night without a problem."
"I'm not scared. I just don't want to, that's all."
"You're the one who wanted to come in the first place." He slid back down the rock and beckoned to her with his tail. Unwillingly, she went to him.
"Look, it's easy," he said in a tone of voice that he probably thought was encouraging. "You can see the path from here. Just put your front paws there, and jump up to that little ledge, and jump again. I'll even follow behind you."
"Yeah, no thanks. It's not the height that bothers me so much as the falling. The splatting. The dying."
He tipped his head in confusion. "But you wouldn't die if you fell from here. The worst you'd get is a few broken bones if you didn't fall properly from the very top, and we always fall properly."
"Longpaw, I know it's not logical. I just don't want to do it." Her temper was starting to fray.
He gave her a little push with his nose. "Come on. A real warrior has to learn how to face their fears, right? I don't think you'll get a better chance than this. It's not high and there's no-one else to see."
Frantically she looked over her shoulder for the hare. He was awake now, but he didn't seem interested in what she was doing. Can you help? she thought at him.
"If you don't want to climb it, don't climb it. Yours is not the sort of fear that will ever leave you. Ask yourself if what you want is really worth all the hassle."
But it's stupid, she argued back. Whoever heard of a cat that's afraid of heights?
The hare's shadow abruptly stood up and padded over to Longpaw's shadow, which was small and leaning against the rock. They touched noses, their outlines blurring, before separating and returning to their places.
"Being afraid is not a bad thing," the hare responded with a touch of amusement. "Everyone is afraid of something."
"Twilightpaw?" Longpaw nudged her. "Let's try it."
"No, Longpaw. Just tell me what you saw, OK?"
He looked as though he might argue, but something he must have seen in her face persuaded him otherwise.
"It's all dead. There are still some trees standing, but they have no leaves and their trunks are badly scorched. The stream that ran through their territory has stopped because it's so choked with ash. The ground looks like newleaf snow—all dirty and grey. There are no birds or animals anywhere."
"Nothing much left, then?"
Longpaw shook his head, then cast a glance at the sun. "We should get some hunting done," he mewed and led the way towards the DarkClan border. He still seemed bewildered over her refusal to climb the rock.
The prey was running well that day, and although there was still the perverse reek of smoke haunting the air. The sky was a lovely blue and the sun was warm on their backs as they hunted. Even if they learned nothing from Fluffy, Twilightpaw mused, it wasn't exactly a terrible way to spend the day.
They called a halt to the hunting when Twilightpaw caught a rabbit. They added it to the other one and the few birds they'd brought down before burying it in a safe spot. Longpaw had grown increasingly quiet as the day drew on and Twilightpaw did not feel the need to break it. It was not quite a companionable silence, but neither was it an awkward one, and it was in this manner that they padded towards the border tree.
A dark shape awaited them when they reached it, and Longpaw stopped abruptly, his fur bristling and his lip curling into a snarl. Twilightpaw brushed her tail over his flank to calm him.
"Cloakedpaw," she called. "I thought you didn't want to be involved in this." She knew what Longpaw was thinking: that it was a trap, an ambush. Part of her shared his fear. We outnumber him, she told that piece of herself and Longpaw both, but truthfully she doubted if it would make any difference to the giant apprentice.
"I don't," the DarkClan tomcat replied, casting a glance at Longpaw, who still had his claws unsheathed. "But I was worried about you meeting a strange outrunner on your own, so I decided to come along. If I'd known you were bringing your own bodyguard, I would have stayed home."
"I'm so bloody grateful that you all think I'm incapable of handling one stranger on my own," she said testily. Then she sighed. "You can go home now, if you're certain you don't want to know."
Longpaw spoke up. "Why would you do that? Risk your standing in your Clan for an enemy cat?"
"Longpaw—" Twilightpaw hissed, wanting to smack him.
Cloakedpaw didn't seem offended at the question. "Because she's my friend," he said simply, "and it's partially my fault she's doing this. But I'll tell you one thing—you don't have to worry about a DarkClan attack. I swear to that by StarClan, by my mother's grave and by my ancestor's blood."
Longpaw still looked hostile, but he retracted his claws. "Well, good," he said shortly. "Because if anything bad happens to Twilightpaw, I'll tear you to shreds."
Cloakedpaw snorted. "LightningClan," he said with utmost exasperation. "You won't catch me being so damned chivalrous. Or anyone else for that matter. I'll be going now." He turned to stalk away into the trees. Twilightpaw called after him.
"I'm not saying I needed your protection—because I don't—but thanks for caring. It's appreciated. Up to a point."
She heard a bark of laughter before he vanished into the shadows of his territory. Longpaw watched him go, though he seemed comfortable enough to sit. She exhaled sharply. "Was it too hard to say 'nice to meet you' and let it go?"
"I don't have to be friendly to him."
"You don't have to be rude to him, either."
"I'll try being polite to your outrunner friend and see where that takes us."
"You can be as rude to him as you want. I'm going to." The wind changed, and a new scent flowed through their glands. "Speak of the demon."
Fluffy stalked out, as annoyingly handsome as ever. His fur was silvery grey and his eyes were a soft amber. She wondered if he had Twolegpet lineage in him, as his fur seemed too fine to be wildblood. "Are you hiding any other junkyard dogs that would have my blood for carrion in this neck of the woods, or is it safe to talk to you? Because if you really think I'm that dangerous, I'll be happy to go."
"What's a junkyard? No, don't tell me. What did you come here to say?"
Fluffy cast a wary look at Longpaw, who promptly gave him a razor-sharp smile. "Don't mind me," the grey apprentice said, "I'm just the hired help."
The outrunner sighed. "This is why I hate Clan cats," he growled to seemingly no-one. "Arrogance. Arrogance everywhere."
"Look at all the tears I can't shed, Fluffy. Speak up or hit the trail."
"All right!" he snapped. "I found out what you want to know, or more specifically who you want to know." He took a deep breath. "So, I followed this Deathstar cat around for a while. When I first started out, everything checked out. She was a decent leader and none of the other outrunners I asked who knew her had anything really bad to say about her. She's arrogant and ambitious, but I never saw her do anything that broke the code you are all so fixated on."
"Oh," Twilightpaw said, disappointed.
"Hold on a heartbeat. So, I was pretty much about to give up when one day I saw her going into the Twolegplace north of DarkClan. You know it?"
"Yes," Longpaw answered before she could speak. "It's the largest Twolegplace around and there's lots of dogs and Thunderpaths."
"Well, yes. Anyway, I saw her going in there, so I followed her. But it's hard tracking cats in a Twolegplace—there are so many strong smells and, as you say, stray cats and dogs. So I lost her. But then I met up with a Twolegpet who had rather a lot to say about her. I didn't hear everything, because when she was just about to get to the important stuff her Twoleg came outside and I had to dash for it. But it sounded like the real deal."
"A Twolegpet," Twilightpaw said carefully. "What's her name?"
"It's something weird. Felicity, I think. She's a rather big white cat with half her tail missing. She lives in a garden filled with cherry blossoms." Fluffy kneaded the ground beneath his paws. "I know you don't trust me. I don't have any proof to offer you that the she-cat's there. But it's nothing to me whether you go or not. I'll be far away from here by sundown." He flicked a tail in farewell and padded away.
"Thank you," Twilightpaw called after him, but she wasn't sure if he heard, because he never looked back. She turned to Longpaw. "What do you think?"
"It sounds bad, Twilightpaw. Meeting an outrunner on our own territory is one thing, but to get to Twolegplace and meet this cat we'd have to cross DarkClan or RainClan territory. Plus, Twolegplaces are dangerous. I say forget it and let's go home."
She sighed. She knew it was sensible, but she remembered Violentstar's fading shadow. "I can't. This will drive me crazy unless I go." More crazy than I already am. "I know how to deal with Twolegs and dogs, I've hung around them before. They're not all bad." Her ears twitched at the phantom sound of an apple hitting flesh.
"But you'll have to go through enemy territory."
"I'm not expecting you to come, Longpaw. I know I can't ask that of you. Really, though, I don't think it'll be that dangerous. DarkClan doesn't seem to care much if other Clan cats wander through their territory. I'll stay off the main paths and keep out of sight."
Longpaw's ears flicked forwards and back as he appeared lost in thought. Finally, he sighed. "I'll go with you, Twilightpaw. But I want it recorded that I am doing this out of the goodness of my heart, and not willingly."
"Duly noted," she said with a smile. "Let's go."
They paused at the DarkClan border, and Twilightpaw felt her stomach tighten as they gathered their courage and stepped over the line. "My first instance of breaking the warrior code," Longpaw muttered behind her, and she jabbed him gently with a hind paw to silence him.
The trees of DarkClan seemed to rear up threateningly around them, and again she had the unshakeable feeling of being watched. The air was hot and close, rich with the scent of decaying wood and moisture. She found herself missing the clear, cold touch of the wind ruffling her fur, and the patches of darkness beneath the shrubs seemed to grow into monsters behind her eyes.
Longpaw hissed at her to stop suddenly. As she did so, she cast a puzzled glance at him, but he was not looking at her. He was sniffing the air and his fur was beginning to bristle.
DarkClan? she thought, but did not dare to speak. Their breathing seemed unnaturally loud to her ears as she inhaled in the scents of the air. Wet earth, rotting vegetation, stale mouse, stale fox…and Twoleg. There was another scent, too, but this one was probably harmless; it was herbivorous and had no threat in it. The Twoleg scent was growing stronger, and frantically they looked for somewhere to hide. Longpaw scrambled up a tree but Twilightpaw merely pressed herself into the shadows of the undergrowth. It was not a particularly clever hiding spot, but her pelt hid her well and Twolegs had almost no sense of smell.
There was a sound of crashing and tearing as two Twolegs trampled into their vicinity. From their size and the hair on their chins she judged them to be male. They stank of sweat and smoke and something else she could not name; a foul, bitter reek that burned the inside of her throat.
The herbivorous odour strengthened as well, and there was fear in this one. Suddenly the Twolegs went still, as still as a wolf who has sighted a rabbit. Slowly he pulled a long, thick stick from his hip and held it out in front of him. The world seemed to stop.
BANG.
It was the loudest sound she'd ever heard; it made thunder seem like a mouse's squeak. The stench she'd noted on the Twolegs before grew overpowering. She bolted deep into the woods, forgetting everything except the desperate instinct to run. Birds began to scream in protest and now there was a reek of blood. She thought she heard Longpaw call her name from far away, and it brought some measure of control over herself. She drew to a halt, her breath tearing at her chest.
The scent of blood was unbearable now, mingled with the herbivore's smell. She was in a small clearing flanked with ferns and dappled sunlight. She could not smell the Twolegs, so she judged it safe enough to come out and get her bearings. As she stepped into the clearing, she was greeted with a sight she had never before seen.
It was the herbivore, a small, graceful being that reminded her a little of Agro: it was built in a similar quadruped fashion, only much more slender. She was lying on her side in the leaf litter, blood pouring from a wound in her hindquarter. Twilightpaw stepped up to her, and the creature turned her head slowly to the little cat.
"A deer, I think," Longpaw said from behind her. He sounded badly shaken. "My father told me about them. The females are called hinds."
Twilightpaw lowered her head to meet the hind's eyes. They were large and black, shining with a gentle puzzlement and quiet sadness. They reminded her of her own hare's gaze. The clearing had grown so quiet that Twiightpaw could hear the deer's soft gasps for breath and the shiver of the leaves as she twitched on the earth.
"Twilightpaw, we need to go," Longpaw said uneasily. "Anyone could come…the Twolegs, the wolverine…"
She nodded, but she looked back to the deer. "Do you speak?" she asked in the language of the wild. The hind's large, leaf-like ears flicked up towards her, and for a moment Twilightpaw thought she saw her lips part. Then something in the dark eyes flickered and faded. The twitching stilled, and the deer's head fell back onto the forest floor.
"Hey—get out of there!" This voice was a Twoleg's and harsh with anger. Neither Longpaw nor Twilightpaw dared to look back, instead charging through the undergrowth, far, far away, until the scent of blood and death was gone. She would have willingly gone home after that, but she'd rather walk on coals rather than risk the Twolegs again.
"No wonder DarkClan doesn't care if anyone comes into their territory," Longpaw said bitterly as they set off north. "They know that we'll all be murdered if we linger. And why didn't your friend Cloakedpaw warn us about this?"
Twilightpaw had been wondering something similar. She didn't want to believe that he had willingly led them onto a hunter's gun, but she wouldn't defend him either, so she said nothing. They walked in silence for a time, stopping only to eat a mouse Longpaw managed to catch. Although she hadn't eaten yet, the stench of the hind's blood had ruined her appetite and it was Longpaw who ate most of it. She thought he would have been more reserved about stealing prey from another Clan, but he didn't even hesitate.
At last they emerged from the trees to find a clear stretch of grass between them and a row of Twoleg dwellings. The grass was too short and neat; it had to have been cut by Twolegs. Perhaps it was some sort of a boundary marker.
Longpaw exhaled sharply. "This trip has taken about five years off my life," he muttered. "It's lucky my fur is already grey."
"It could still fall out," she cautioned dryly and took a few hesitant steps over the lawn. Nothing rushed out to attack her, so she took the lead towards the structures. The scent of Twoleg covered everything, but this was not like the dark odour of the hunters. It resembled the scent she'd found around the Twolegs on her way to meet Agro—fire and flowers. There were plenty of real flowers, bright and beautiful, perfuming the air that was filled with the murmur of bees.
Although they treaded warily, both young cats were fascinated. There was so much to see. They ducked behind part of a fence and watched as two Twoleg children capered in outside their house, spraying each other with water that somehow came out of a long, thick vine. A dog snarled at Longpaw and sprang after them with such power it nearly throttled itself with its chain. A grown-up Twoleg was staring at a tiny square while sitting under a tree.
"Hey," Twilightpaw said, rearing up on her hind legs to try and get a better view, "is that a cherry blossom over there?"
Longpaw clambered up a stone wall. "Yep. There looks to be quite a few of them, in fact." He shot her an unreadable glance. "I guess the outrunner didn't lie after all. Let's hurry."
They dodged several monsters and Twolegs, following the sweet scent of the sakura. As the two friends drew to a halt on the grassed area at the front, there was a flicker of movement inside the Twoleg den.
"Oh, yeah, we should have thought of that," Twilightpaw admitted. "What if this Twolegpet's inside?"
"We wait until she comes out, I guess," Longpaw said, licking a paw and drawing it over his ear.
"Excuse me," a third voice sounded from behind them, "are you by any chance looking for me?"
They turned. It was a female Twolegpet, and she was more or less as Fluffy described: white, very large, with a part of her tail missing.
"Are you Felicity?" Twilightpaw wanted to know.
She inclined her head and nodded. "So you must be the stranger's friend."
"You…could say that. Did he say what we wanted to ask about?"
"Oh, yes—you wanted to know about Meris."
"No," Longpaw said, sounding puzzled, "we wanted to ask about a cat named Deathstar."
"That's who I meant. Before she went to join the Wilders, her name was Meris. She used to live in these parts." Felicity glanced over her shoulder at the Twoleg dwelling. "It's not safe to talk here. My humans will be upset if they find stray cats here. They think you'll hurt me. It's sweet of them, but I can take care of myself."
That seemed a little odd coming from such a plump and comfortable-looking she-cat, but at that moment the sun slid out from behind the clouds and Twilightpaw noticed the ragged edges at the tip of her shortened tail. It had been bitten off. There was also a notch in her ear and a scar, almost hidden by her thick fur, on her shoulder.
"That's right," Felicity said with a small laugh, noticing her gaze. "I used to be a stray cat myself. But I'm retired. I prefer the quiet life now."
"You can retire from being a rogue?" Twilightpaw asked, before realizing it might have come out as rude. Luckily, Felicity took no offense.
"We're not like the Wilders—that's our name for you. We don't form groups. It's every cat for herself in the streets. It's not a life I would wish on anyone. Don't think for one moment that I have no idea what you Wilders go through, but you've had a pretty easy time of it compared to the strays. Eventually I just got sick of fighting to the death for the right to lick out an empty tuna can or to have a drink from a tiny puddle. But I didn't know any other life, so I went to the Cages." A shadow fell across her pale face.
"What are the Cages?" Longpaw asked with interest, the word being unknown to him.
"Pray you never find out, lad. They aren't fit places for cats or any beasts, and if you stay too long in them, the humans kill you. But there is free food, and I didn't want to live in the world anymore, so I let the humans find me. I was one of the lucky ones. A human family took me to their den." She glanced over her shoulder. "Now I get as much food as I want and a warm place where I can sleep with both eyes firmly shut. And I stay away from the stray cats." She cleared her throat. "But I'm sure you didn't come here to listen to me carp about the past. So, Meris, or Deathstar. What a name! Anyway, what did you want to know about her?"
Twilightpaw took a deep breath. "Just this. Does she ever kill things in here?" Longpaw choked on the bluntness of the question, but Felicity's expression didn't change.
"That very much depends," she said softly and thoughtfully. "If you are asking if she killed anyone before she became a Wilder, then the answer is yes. She fought as hard as anyone would for the right to survive. Out here, your life always comes at the price of others."
"That seems unfair," Longpaw remarked quietly.
"Life isn't fair." The white she-cat licked a paw and drew it over her ear. "In my experience, death has never been much different. Be thankful for what you have, lad. Be grateful that your ancestors were sane, reasonable cats who were willing to share the land and prey, and set down good laws to prevent cannibalism and the killing of children. Few others can say the same. Meris certainly could not before she left us."
"How did you know her?" Twilightpaw wanted to know. Privately, she also wondered how Felicity knew so much about the Clan cats. Although their origins weren't exactly secret, she would not have expected an outrunner to be aware of them.
"The same way I know everyone. At first as an enemy, and then as a friend when I came here."
"So Deathstar's not a killer anymore?" Longpaw pressed. "You said it depended…"
"I did, didn't I? And I never lie. But now you tell me something. Why are you so determined to find out about her past? Although we were not exactly close, we were friends of a kind and I'll not say anything to you if you're going to use it to drag her through the mud. She deserves her place in your world."
Twilightpaw lowered her head slightly in faint abashment. "If she's killing cats, right now, we have to know," she murmured. "We have to know so we can save future lives."
"I have seen so many lives taken; why should I care about two or three more?"
Startled, Twilightpaw looked into Felicity's eyes, which had seemed so sweet and gentle up until that moment. Now they were fierce, and shadowed with a strange darkness. Longpaw was equally struck dumb.
Perhaps the former outrunner noticed their discomfort, for she took a few steps backwards and softened her voice. "Let me ask you a different question. To you, little Wilders, how much is a life worth?"
Longpaw was the first to find his voice. "Quite a bit. The only time we kill one another is in a battle for territory, and mostly those are by accident…" He trailed away, brow furrowed, lost in thought.
Twilightpaw hurried to pick up the conversation. "And sometimes we kill one another in punishment if they've committed a really serious crime. But not often. Most of the time they're just exiled."
Felicity's ears pricked up. "A serious crime? What sort of crime warrants death in the Wilders' world?"
"Well, not too long ago there was a she-cat who murdered her brother by pushing him under a shining monster. They executed her, but that was mainly because HollowClan was really pushing for it and because they knew she would probably kill again."
Felicity's ears perked up. "So, you would kill a cat who would do great harm to the lives of others? You believe that their blood would prevent more blood?"
"This is starting to sound an awful lot like one of Valiantpaw's tangents," Longpaw said gruffly to Twilightpaw. To Felicity, he mewed, "I suppose we do. What does this have to do with Deathstar?"
"Because," Felicity replied, "is that not what she was doing?"
Twilightpaw felt as though she were trying to cross a stream where she couldn't see the stepping stones; she knew she needed to get across, but she did not dare risk the water. "Maybe you should start from the beginning," she said quietly. "So we understand fully."
Felicity took a deep breath. "It'll take some time," she began. Longpaw and Twilightpaw exchanged glances. As far as the Clan was aware, they could well be hunting the entire day, and neither of them really wanted to go through DarkClan's forests again before they had to.
"Go on," Twilightpaw prompted, and the Twolegpet began.
Deathstar had been born in the far north, well beyond the scope of human dwellings. It was a place of long nights and dark days, where leaf-bare ran for nearly five moons and greenleaf was a short, sweet breath of heat. The snows were thick and the prey was thin; all in all an unpleasant place for cats to exist.
As did all cats virtually everywhere except the Clans, Deathstar had left her mother's den at the age of five moons as an independent adult. Dissatisfied with her barren environs, she had travelled south, wandering far greater distances than any other cat Felicity had known. It was perhaps this long period of travelling, never staying in one place for more than a few suns, that gave her such intelligence and strength of will. She might have spent her entire life in such a fashion, were it not for the tiny part of her that burned with ambition. Her mother's territory had overlapped with the dominant tomcat of the area—probably her father, but she had never cared to ask—and she could not help but be impressed with the power he wielded over the she-cats in his lands. Her earliest memory of him was when he had driven out a rangy stoat that had nearly sniffed her out in her mother's nursery.
So her solitude was not entirely self-imposed, as on several occasions she had attempted to claim a territory of her own and rule the neighbouring cats. Most of the time she was simply laughed at, this tiny child—for she had always been small—with her dreams of power. Sometimes she was brought into conflict with the dominant male of the area she was in, and being small and untrained, she always came out worse. Now nursing grudges against figures of authority and male cats in general, she had finally come to Felicity's Twolegplace.
Any other cat, small and incapable of fighting, would have died on the first day. Not Deathstar. Through sheer will alone she scraped out her place, brought pain and fury upon her enemies, and satisfied her dreams by slowly expanding her territory. She offered sanctuary to anyone who agreed to serve her, but to the best of Felicity's knowledge no cat ever had taken her up on this. The stray cats were secretly proud of their independence and freedom; most of them believed it was some sort of trap in any case.
Then, one day, she had heard of the Wilders in the forests and lands beyond. A group of cats that worked together, lived together, supported one another—under the leadership of a great warrior who could be either male or female. She had jumped at the chance.
But just as she was clearing up the last bits of business in her territory before she set off into the great unknown, things went bad. A Twolegpet died right in front of her.
"And I mean literally dropped dead," Felicity continued. "One morning she was just talking with him and he suddenly burst out that he wanted to go with her. She asked him why he couldn't go home and he said because it was killing him on the inside. Then he just screamed and died, right there."
The young rogue had tried to make nothing of it. Animals left the living for all sorts of reasons, each one more bizarre than the last. So she told the neighbourhood of his death—not that anyone really cared—and left his body on his humans' doorstep. She had noted that his den was of poor quality, even for a human, with a horrible reek of death and disease.
Still. Life went on. There was prey to be caught and battles to be won. Deathstar was accepted into DarkClan. Here Felicity's details dried up, as she knew very little of the ginger and black she-cat's life in the forest.
"All I know," she said, "is that at one point she came across another Twolegpet, one from the same dwelling that the dead one had come from. This one was a female, and she looked about as terrified as a cat could get. She begged Meris, or whatever her name was at that point, to help her and her children. And then—you guessed it, she died as well."
So Deathstar had returned to the strays and the streets, burdened with a mangy Twolegpet's corpse. She had initially just intended to drop the body on the doorstep, the same as the first time, but unlike that occasion when she showed up she could hear the howls and screams of trapped cats. A few of them recognized both Deathstar and the body she was carrying and that made them cry louder. A human had staggered out of the dwelling, surrounded by a sea of cats, smelling of the liquid that they liked to drink so much. Sometimes it made them happy, but it could also make them very angry, and this human was angry. Perhaps he thought that Deathstar had killed his cat, for he picked up a long stick, the kind that shot instant death, and pointed it at her. Only her speed had saved her.
Another cat might have forgotten the near-death experience. But if Deathstar had been in possession of a poor memory she would not have survived for as long as she did in any case. So on one moonless night, sometime later, she returned to the den and tried to free them. A tom tried to bar her way, so she had killed him. Most of the cats left after that, afraid of the dark she-cat with blood on her face. Some did remain, claiming that it was still their territory and they would never leave it, no matter how often they were trapped inside, no matter how often their human forgot to bring them food and water. And Deathstar had looked at them and known that it was these cats that made the others die. Kept away from light and hope, they had regressed into something even less than a Twolegpet, and they knew of their lack. They took it out on the others: on the weak ones, like the small toms and the queens with children. They would have undoubtedly left the human dwelling eventually, tempted beyond control with the thought of wide open spaces and more cats to torment.
So she had killed them, too. It hadn't even been very difficult. They had no concept of battle training to begin with, or of teamwork. Roughly twelve cats walked free from the poverty that had kept them prisoner all their short lives. Five more lay in a pool of mingled blood.
Felicity didn't know what happened to the Twolegpets that Deathstar had rescued. The most likely scenario was that they had died quickly, but the thought did not seem to trouble her. And Deathstar had returned to the forest and her Wilders, returned to rise to power as Clan leader. Sometimes Felicity would meet her on the border of her territory and they would talk, but Felicity never entered the woodlands even though Deathstar had offered her a place.
"It's just not good territory, there," the white she-cat finished with a sigh. "Humans…and other things."
Twilightpaw and Longpaw sat there for a time, digesting this. "So, what you think you just explained to us is, Deathstar killed a bunch of Twolegpets to save other cats?" Twilightpaw said hesitantly. But then, what about Violentstar? Who killed her?
Over the previous weeks she had given the matter considerable thought, of why Violentstar's and the little kit's shadows had appeared and spoken to her even though their masters were gone. Eventually she had come to the conclusion that perhaps the shadows could not rest in peace because their masters had been murdered.
She had not seen the departed leader's shadow since the Daylight Gathering, and she wondered if it had perhaps passed on to another realm after all, and only took somewhat longer than other shadows. Maybe she was wrong about everything.
"Well," Felicity said hesitantly, "that's what I assume. Of course, many cats would say that there was an unfair fight, that those cats were unlikely to live anyway. I'm not inclined to agree or disagree. They're dead now."
"Would she kill again?" It was Longpaw's time for bluntness. "If she thought it would save more lives—rightly or wrongly?"
The ex-rogue's eyes shuttered abruptly, and Twilightpaw got the impression that there was something not being said. "Perhaps," Felicity said. "I have told you what you want to know."
The two LightningClan apprentices exchanged glances. "What…what do you want from us? Why have you told us this information?" Longpaw asked.
Something else called Felicity's name, and they all turned to see a Twoleg padding up to then. His hind paws were surprisingly quiet on the grass. The white she-cat meowed at him gently and raised her tail.
"Felicity," Twilightpaw hissed, her heart hammering at the sight of the large creature moving towards them, "What do you want us to do?"
The Twoleg had reached them, and he gave the two strange cats an unreadable glance, his scent billowing around them. Longpaw wrinkled his nose and jumped back, fur bristling, but Twilightpaw took comfort in the fact that he smelled more strongly of flowers than he did fire. He crouched from his great height and picked up Felicity, who made no protest. Instead, she turned her head back to Longpaw and Twilightpaw.
"Ah, well…that is up to you, isn't it?" she said with a sigh as the Twoleg carried her back inside the dwelling. They watched her go, somewhat confused.
Longpaw exhaled sharply. "What a strange cat. Do you think she was telling the truth?"
Twilightpaw tilted her head sideways in thought. "Yeah, I do. Why would she make up a lie like that?"
"So when Cloakedpaw saw her covered in blood…she was returning from killing the Twolegpets?"
"Looks like it." Twilightpaw glanced up at the sun. "We should get going. The sooner the better."
"I just hope the Twolegs are gone from DarkClan territory," Longpaw murmured as he set off down the street, Twilightpaw following.
They'd covered about half the distance between Felicity' yard and the forest when a voice sounded behind them.
"Hey—you two!"
They turned and unsheathed their claws. The speaker was sitting on a fence, a very large tom with fur such a dark grey it was only a shade or two from being black, and sharp green eyes flashed at them with intense curiosity.
"Yes?" Twilightpaw said with icy politeness. "Can we help you?"
"You're LightningClan apprentices," he said without preamble, "yes?"
"Who wants to know?" Longpaw replied curtly.
The stranger leaped down from the fence and came to meet them. "My name is Shadowstrike. Got it memorized?"
"If you say so," Twilightpaw muttered. "Wait—that's a Clan name—wait." She boldly stepped up and sniffed the tomcat, who pinned his ears back at her. There was something familiar about his scent. Not familiar in the way that she'd met him before, but somewhere and somehow she'd picked up a trace of him. It was on the edge of her memory, taunting her.
"I know you. How do I know you?" she asked him faintly.
He looked back at her. "I don't know you, that's for sure. But maybe you found a trace of my scent in the LightningClan camp?"
Longpaw came up alongside Twilightpaw. "You used to be a LightningClan cat. And judging by the fact that there's no scent of forest in your fur—none at all—I'd say you haven't been one for a long, long time."
"Smart apprentices make useless warriors," the tom replied, causing Longpaw's lip to curl. "Is a cat named Burningfur still in the Clan?"
"Yes," Twilightpaw felt like her brain was about to implode. It was right there—she knew this. "She's our Clan deputy, and used to be my mentor. Did you know her well?"
Longpaw shifted uneasily from paw to paw. "Twilightpaw, let's go. Whoever he is, he's not our concern."
"Know her?" Shadowstrike said, ignoring Longpaw. "Hell, she used to be my mate."