CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

When I woke, it was light out. My three surviving kits were snuggled up against my fur. I purred quietly, a content mother.

I looked up to see Tam eating a mouse quietly in the corner of the den. Her son Riley was still asleep. I suddenly realized I was famished. "Uh, Tam?" I asked hesitantly.

She looked up and smiled. "Annie. Good morning. Are you hungry?"

I nodded. She padded over to me with a squirrel in her jaws. It wasn't very large, but it was something. I scarfed it down, then sighed, satisfied.

Tam sat down next to me. I gave her a wary look, then said finally, "Tam, I can't keep these kits."

"I can't keep them either, if that's what you're asking," she said warningly.

"No, I know where I want them to live. Their father is one of the Clan cats, in the forest, have you heard of them?" I asked.

"Yes, everyone around here has." She shrugged. "I didn't want to join. One of my sons in one of earlier litters did, though."

"As I was saying, I can't keep them. I'm very grateful for your help, but—" I broke off, coughed, then continued. "I would like to give them to their father. He's a good cat, and he would take them."

"And you need help carrying them," she said, finishing my thought. I nodded. "Very well," she said, shrugging. "I've been asked worse. As soon as they're fit to travel, in about a week, we can carry them to the forest. Have you named them?"

I had not, and I told her so. She recommended I let their father name them, so I wouldn't get too attached, but I wanted to name them. I gave it some thought.

A week later, as promised, Tam and Riley helped me carry my kits across the moor and into ThunderClan territory. We had difficulty dodging patrols, as I did not want to be caught, so the journey took longer than necessary. It was late in the night when I reached the ThunderClan camp. I thanked Tam and Riley profusely, then they melted off into the darkness. I prayed to StarClan that they would make it safely back to their home, then boldly went up to the cat guarding the entrance to the camp.

I snuck up behind him on silent feet. "Hello," I whispered.

He whirled around, alarmed. "What? Where are you? Don't make me call more warriors!"

"I won't, don't worry," I assured him. "I just want to see Thunder. Ask him to come out here—alone."

"And how do I know you're not going to kill him?" he asked suspiciously.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Do you have no brains in that head of yours?" I demanded. "Do you not think Thunder can hold his own in a fight with a scrawny little thing like me, at least until the noise sends your Clan running to the commotion?"

He seemed unsure. "Go," I ordered. "Be quick about it. I can't stay forever."

He grumbled, but reluctantly, he went to fetch Thunder.

When Thunder came walking out of the camp, he stopped and sniffed the air. "Come out, Shadow," he commanded. "I can smell you."

I slid out of the bush I was hiding in. "Hello, Thunder."

He glared at me. "I'm not doing this again," he proclaimed.

"That's not why I came," I snapped. "Wait right here."

I darted back into the bush and picked up one of the kits in my jaws. He mewled in protest, and I heard Thunder go very still. I carried him out and dumped him at his father's paws, then returned to the bush to fetch his brother and sister.

Thunder's eyes were wide with shock. "Shadow," he whispered, "what are these kits doing here?"

"Meeting their father," I said flatly.

He sat down heavily as the kits snuggled up against his warmth. He looked at me, his eyes bewildered. "You didn't tell me."

"Would you have believed me?" I asked.

"Of course!" he said, indignant. He paused, frowning. "So this is why you've been gone."

"Yes." I swallowed. "I'm sorry, Thunder, but I can't keep them. I've got my duties as a leader, and—"

"And I don't?" he protested.

"You won't have to nurse them," I said softly. "And ShadowClan will ask all sorts of questions..."

"Like my Clan won't?" he protested.

"You can say that their mother is a rogue."

"Why don't you take a leave like Wind did?"

"Thunder—please. I would be a terrible mother. I know you've always wanted kits. Well, here they are."

He looked down. "Fine, I'll take them." The look he gave me was both happy and sad—happy that we had kits and sad that we could not raise them together. "Do they have names?"

I straightened. Finally, I question I could answer. "The she-cat is called Thornkit, after Thorn, one of my WindClan friends who died," I murmured, gesturing to the kit in question. "The tom with the spot on his tail is Brackenkit, and the other tom is Owlkit."

"Thornkit, Brackenkit, and Owlkit," Thunder purred. I sighed. I didn't want to give my kits away, but I knew I had to. The storm I was planning to cook up was too dangerous to have my kits with me. It was better this way.

"I love you, kits," I murmured, touching my nose to each one in a goodbye. Then I looked up at Thunder. "I love you, Thunder. I'm sorry it had to be this way."

Then I turned away and padded back into the forest, toward ShadowClan, my home.