(Okay, this is really weird, I thought I'd posted this chapter with the other one.)

Disclaimer: Warriors by Erin Hunter

Thanks to reviewers: Q K Ninja, Smokefrost, and Jocasta Silver

So, I'm trying not to rush through this story like I did with Unknowns Skies Three's ending. I just wanted that one over with. But this was a good story from the start, so I want to end it right. It might take some time, but hopefully it will be a good one.

Back to the Moontree patrol!

Chapter 24

The night was warm. Thick air surrounded them and the group slept far away from each other. Chirping crickets sang in the darkness and above them the stars shimmered on through the still leaves. A scent of water hung near a tree stump, and fresh moss everywhere. The faintest hint of blood. Feathers and fur surrounded the six cats, the remnants of their bountiful meal.

Duststripe sighed and yawned. The tabby tom sat by the stump, the uneven ground was distorted by the roots, and it was uncomfortable enough to prevent him from sleeping. He didn't mind. He was the cat on watch. He scanned the six cats. The two rogues slept nearby each other, but farther away from the others, still distrusting. Bluelightning, Frog, and Risingtide were closer, but Bluelightning had his back to the other two, as if he wasn't part of their group at all.

It had been a day since they left Summerheat. Fortunately, no one had run back, and their wounds were healing well enough, although paws and joints swelled and ached if they walked too long. They'd circled about the territory, searching for the StarClan tree. Duststripe hoped they didn't wander around too much longer, he wanted to go back and see how his Clan was. If the rogues had rebelled again and if Sullen or Petalstar awoke. When he went back to camp, what would he return to?

He yawned again, blinking his eyes and shifting on the ground, his tail twitching slowly. He wondered how much longer until Bluelightning had watch. No one let the rogues be left awake alone. They didn't offer to either. They seemed perfectly fine with letting the Clan cats lose out on sleep.

The tom lowered his head, not realizing it. He was just. . .so. . .tired.

-Line-

A scream leaden with pain. His ear hairs trembled and his heart lurched as he leapt to his feet. The darkness of night was barely sliced by the false light blue of dawn. It would be a long time for the sun to rise and for cats to fully awaken. A cat screamed again and Duststripe saw the rusty red fur of a fox. The glinting sharp teeth were buried in the foreleg of Strike, the she-cat rogue. She twisted and clawed with her free claws. This prevented the vixen from biting Strike's head or neck, which must have been the original target, except Strike had awakened and dodged at the last second.

The vixen shook her head viscously, rattling Strike until the black she-cat lost her balance crashing to the ground, sending leaves flying.

This only happened in an instant, Duststripe barely saw Strike hit the ground before he leapt forward, claws out, a snarl on his large face. He hit the vixen's side, nearly at the same time Risingtide, Bluelightning, and Dan attacked. The fox yelped in surprise and side-stepped, but did not release her prey, dragging Strike across the ground. The she-cat could not recover, and yelled in wordless terror and pain, her high-pitched voice grating on the ears. Duststripe tried to aim for the back of the fox's neck, but Bluelightning got in his way, jumping onto the fluffy rusty-colored back. Risingtide and Dan were worrying the back legs of the vixen, digging in deeply with their claws as they hissed insults.

Duststripe was interrupted from joining Bluelightning when he saw a shape hurdling from the side. Frog leapt over strike, aiming for the vixen's eyes. This time the vixen barked in surprise, ducking away and shaking her head. Strike fell to the ground limply. Frog was shaken off, but landed on his paws nearby.

Duststripe wanted to yell at his son. A frontal attack was stupid and dangerous. If the vixen's mouth wasn't full, she could have snapped Frog in two. Instead, Duststripe ran to Strike's side and started dragging the she-cat away, leaving the others to battle the bucking, twisting vixen. Frog helped his father move Strike to the stump where Duststripe tucked his claws in and swatted his apprentice's head. Frog looked stunned and confused, but was saved a lecture when another fox approached.

He only knew it was there because of the scent. The battle was too loud to hear its approach. But the male fox, a dog-fox, appeared on the other side of the vixen, huddling under some ferns. The vixen's mate saw the attack and snarled, darting low over the fallen leaves and aiming for Risingtide. The gray tom spotted the threat and quickly jumped away, running for a tree. That gave the vixen time to turn, snapping at Dan. Bluelightning lost his hold on her back and fell to the ground on his side where the dog-fox opened his jaws and snapped them shut on the silver tom's neck. He didn't have time to utter a sound.

Yowling a challenge, Duststripe ran at them, but was not in time to save his Clanmate. He reached them too late. The tabby tom's eyes widened and he hissed in anger, dragging his claws down the dog-fox's ear. Frog was at his side, clawing at the golden eyes. The fox snarled and aimed for frog with its scared muzzle, but Duststripe lowered his head and shoulder, ramming into the red creature's chest. The jaws closed on empty air.

Frog darted low and came up beneath the fox, clawing at the white belly, before running out again and biting the fluffy tail. The fox tried to turn, snarling, but Duststripe rose on his back feet, slashing with his front claws as fast as he could, as much as he could. The fox closed its eyes, whimpering and backing away. Frog yanked the tail again, now on his back, kicking hard until fur flew.

The fox gave up, barking a command. He fled, the vixen following him into the ferns, chased by Dan and Risingtide. The gray tom must have returned after escaping the dog-fox. The four cats lined up, snarling and hissing after the fleeing pair. Only when the sounds of crashing and running faded away did they calm down.

Dan ran to Strike. The she-cat was still lying by the stump, her eyes open. Her front paw and leg were bloody, the puncture marks deep to the bone. The two rogues spoke while the Clan cats circled around Bluelightning. Duststripe looked down in shock. It had been so quick. The tom wasn't even snarling, or braced, or terrified, just staring, his head too far back and twisted to the side, covered in dark red.

"Who was on watch?" Dan demanded. He crouched by strike, eyes glaring at them all.

"I-I was," Duststripe admitted, his voice wavering like a guilty apprentice. "I must have fallen asleep."

Risingtide and Frog looked at Duststripe in shock.

Dan stalked over, his back bristling, a small trickle of fresh blood parting the fur on his shoulder. The older wounds where scabbed over, but some had reopened.

The dark ginger tabby tom snarled in Duststripe's face. "You idiot! This is all your fault!"

Duststripe's ears lowered and his shoulder hunched. A sick feeling bubbled in his gut. He knew it was true. Bluelightning was dead because of him.

"We can't go on," Dan hissed, turning away abruptly. "She's lamed. We have to go back."

"We don't have time to go back to camp," Duststripe meowed quietly.

Dan whirled back. "This mission is foolish and dangerous. We have to go back. She needs a leafcat."

"I don't think she can walk all the way back," Frog interrupted, leaning to look at Strike. The black she-cat said nothing, cleaning her wound, a worried look on her face.

"We don't have enough cats to take her," Duststripe meowed. If he sent Dan and Risingtide or Frog back, only two cats would be left searching for the Moontree. It was more dangerous as more animals could attack them.

"And that's your fault," Dan spat.

Duststripe sighed. Why had he fallen asleep? He should have woken up another cat.

"Bind her leg," he meowed. "It might be broken."

"Finally some sense," the dark tabby tom muttered. He sniffed the she-cat's head, gave her a quick lick, and went looking for cobwebs.

"Frog, go with him," Duststripe flicked his tail. The gray and brown apprentice ran after.

"We goeth not back, surely?" Risingtide asked.

Duststripe hunched over again. He had to decided. But he knew his mind was already made up.

"No. She - We're all going on. We can't leave her and I can't just send Dan with her. Who knows what they'll tell the others. That we died, that we're mouse-brains wandering in lunacy. But not only that, they'd be too vulnerable. Another fox or a badger might get them, attracted to her weakness."

"Danger to us if bringeth along."

He nodded. "But two of us can't search for the tree safely either. They come."

Risingtide nodded. He wasn't angry or disgusted. Duststripe half thought the gray tom would be, disappointed that his patrol leader was being so heartless to an injured she-cat.

"I not feeleth pity for these rogues," Risingtide meowed. "Not careth whether healeth or not. To me, findeth tree most important right now. What happened is over. Misseth Bluelightning little, knew him not, but I be saddened by warrior's loss." He slid his tail down Duststripe's side and walked to Strike as Dan and Frog came back with the spider webs.

"I don't know what herbs to use," Dan told her. "I hope it doesn't swell."

"I hope it's not broken," she replied.

Duststripe didn't want to tell Dan just yet about his decision. He wasn't looking forward to the argument. Instead the tabby turned away and went to dig a hole. No vigil for Bluelightning. They had no time to spare, already slowed by one injured cat.

"I'm sorry for all this," he whispered to the dead tom. "Sorry that this isn't a respectful burial. And I'm sorry that I wasn't awake when the foxes attacked. Please. . . forgive me."

-Line-

"This is a weird tree," Frog pointed to the low knobby form with his short tail. The tree was low and squat, formed from two trees, but blocked by the branches above that forced it to grow in a curve. Yes, it was different, but somehow it wasn't mystic enough.

Strike limped behind, panting heavily, leaning against Dan. The tom rogue glared at Duststripe's back so hard, he thought there might be ants crawling through his pelt. He still felt guilty and it was almost sunhigh. He stayed with the pair, walking slowly while Risingtide and Frog scouted ahead. They'd race back when one or the other saw something, while the other waited for the patrol to catch up.

The patrol's wandering path was now approaching the large field. Though they were a long way out of Clan territory, the field was so long the cats couldn't see an end to it. No cat had been brave enough to walk to the very edge. Some claimed a twolegplace would be there, others said a great lake, and the others just didn't care.

"Go tell Risingtide we're going to rest," Duststripe ordered Frog, uninterested in this strange tree. "If you want you can go to the field. Come back if you find something."

Frog nodded and hurried off, while Duststripe though how silly his command sounded. 'Come back if you find something.'Did that mean Frog couldn't come back ever if he didn't see anything? Who even took him seriously as a patrol leader? He made such mouse-brained decisions.

Dan lowered Strike to the ground beneath a low holly bush for some shade against the hot sun. The she-cat looked miserable. Her eyes watered, her long fur snagged with twigs and dirt. Her white, injured leg had even started swelling. She stretched her leg out painfully and tried to lick it around the covering of webs.

Duststripe turned away, and sat near a beech tree's roots.

"I'm going to the stream for water," Dan meowed. "Make sure nothing happens this time."

He stared hard at Duststripe, nostrils flaring and then stalked away. When he returned, sometime later, he had a moss ball dripping water onto his chest, leaving a trail of damp drops behind him. Duststripe felt his own parched throat and wished he could leave and get a drink too. But Strike had to be in pain. What right did he have to ease his own discomfort?

Strike gratefully accepted the moss ball and drank greedily.

Frog came racing back, his fur on end, ears and whiskers twitching. Risingtide was not far behind the apprentice, an odd look in his blue eyes.

"You really need to see this tree," Frog meowed, stopping in front of his father. "It's like-" He shook his head as if words failed him.

"It be different," Risingtide confirmed.

Duststripe could feel their excitement burning into his blood. He stood up and nodded. Frog quickly ran off, exuberant as ever. Risingtide and Duststripe followed, a little slower, but no less excited. Dan eased Strike to her feet and the pair stumbled after through the trees and the uneven ground.

Instead of heading for the field, Frog was leading the patrol back into the deeper part of the forest. Duststripe looked at Risingtide to make sure and the gray tom with the stripped legs nodded. When they came upon the tree, there was no mistaking it. White with silver strips running through the bark, Duststripe first thought it was a very wide tree. But when they got closer, he realized it was three similar trees, twisted together. There was a small gap at the very bottom where the three met. Frog was sniffing around it, circling behind the tree.

"Look!" the apprentice yelled. "The roots! They're above the ground!"

That wasn't unusual. Many roots had became uncovered over time, but this was different. A small gap all the way underneath revealed the large roots. They formed some sort of dome beneath the large combined tree. Duststripe leaned down and stared beneath. He could see his son's legs and the light streaming through. It really was unusual.

"How do we speak to StarClan now?" Duststripe wondered aloud as he straightened.

"Like this probably," Frog meowed, and leapt through the space where the trees met. He came out the other end, just missing Duststripe. Instead of landing on his feet, the gray and brown apprentice fell on his side, his head lolling. His eyes were closed tightly. It looked as if he'd died.