Willowpelt led the way into ThunderClan camp. Frostfur and Darkstripe were both bristling nervously. Sandstorm could feel the anxiety of the patrol as they padded through the gorse tunnel. She, too, was worried. None of the warriors were sure how Thistlestar would react to the news that Sunningrocks had been lost.
A quick glance around camp told Sandstorm that Thistlestar was not out in the open. She wasn't sure whether to feel terrified or relieved. He couldn't have a public fit if he was confined to his den… but he also might be less worried about the reaction of the Clan if he was sent into such a fury that he attacked one of them. Sandstorm swallowed nervously at the thought.
Before Willowpelt could lead them to Thistlestar's den, Sandstorm caught sight of Tigerclaw across camp, talking to Ravenpaw. They were sitting outside the nursery. It was strange to see them together like this, talking to one another without Tigerclaw's glaring or Ravenpaw's cowering.
Sandstorm quickly flicked Willowpelt with her tail. "We should tell Tigerclaw first!" she whispered, recalling the conversation they had shared alone. Tigerclaw seems like he's starting to doubt Thistlestar, she thought. He never reported me to Thistlestar for what I said. "He might help us tell him."
Darkstripe's expression lit up, and he nodded eagerly. Cowardly as he was, he had undying faith in his former mentor. Frostfur frowned for a moment before nodding. "I want to talk to Ravenpaw about Brightpaw," she meowed. "After… what Thistlestar did."
Willowpelt looked uncertain. "I don't trust Tigerclaw to take our side over his," she growled. "But if you say so, Sandstorm."
Sandstorm eagerly hurried across camp. Now's the chance to really see what he thinks, she thought. If he is starting to doubt Thistlestar… he wouldn't just throw us in there to be torn apart. "Tigerclaw!" she called.
Tigerclaw and Ravenpaw both started and glanced towards the patrol. "Sandstorm…?" Tigerclaw blinked as he noticed the state of the warriors, and bristled in alarm. "What happened?!" he demanded, his voice deepening to a growl.
Willowpelt moved to stand beside Sandstorm. The molly kept her head high and eyes narrowed, almost defiantly. It was no secret she held no love for Tigerclaw or Thistlestar. To her, they were one and the same. "RiverClan stole Sunningrocks," she reported. "We were outnumbered. Sandstorm came across the fight and tried to help, but we'd already taken on injuries." She glanced back at Darkstripe. "They were ready to kill him because of that mess with their dead warrior from a while ago."
Darkstripe let out a hiss. "I did my hunting for them!" he snapped.
Tigerclaw silenced him with a glare before returning his attention to Willowpelt. "This isn't good," he muttered.
Ravenpaw stood up, his tail twitching frantically. "Were any of you badly hurt?" he demanded.
"Darkstripe is worst off," Frostfur meowed. The queen flattened her ears. "Where is Brightpaw? I want to see her."
Ravenpaw jerked his head towards his den. "In my den, resting," he meowed. "She's doing fine. The scratch she got wasn't too deep. You and Darkstripe can come with me to get herbs." He glanced quickly at Sandstorm. "But you should both come after you finish reporting to Tigerclaw so I can check you."
Sandstorm nodded to him, and Ravenpaw turned and led Frostfur and Darkstripe away. She glanced back at Tigerclaw. "We… we're worried about reporting to Thistlestar," she blurted. Immediately, heat rushed to her ears in embarrassment for admitting fear to her deputy. "Especially after yesterday."
Tigerclaw flicked his ear. "I would normally scold you both for cowardice…" he grumbled. "But I can't blame you. Let me think a moment…" His thick tail flicked, and his gaze slid away from them, towards the nursery. "Just let me handle it."
Willowpelt blinked, looking momentarily surprised. "What?"
Tigerclaw flicked his tail. "I will tell him that I went to Sunningrocks alone and found the border already remarked. You will both stay in Ravenpaw's den for the next day. I care not who you tell about what happened, but Thistlestar does not need more details than I will give him." He looked back towards Willowpelt. "My kits were just born this morning," he meowed. "I have other matters to worry about besides Thistlestar killing two warriors over losing a strip of rocks."
Sandstorm bristled in alarm at the certainty in his tone. Hurriedly, she bowed her head. "Th-thank you, sir." She swallowed as she felt her throat tightening. Does he actually think Thistlestar would kill us?
"Yes," Willowpelt agreed, though she only lowered her head in the slightest. "And give Goldenflower my congratulations."
"I will," Tigerclaw replied. He stood up and shook out his thick pelt. "You are both dismissed." With that, he padded away, heading straight for Thistlestar's den.
Sandstorm and Willowpelt both watched him go. Willowpelt glanced at Sandstorm, her eyes narrowed to slits. "I don't know why he did that for us," she meowed. "But I still don't trust him."
"It sounds like he thinks Thistlestar would've attacked us," Sandstorm replied. She watched as Tigerclaw vanished into the den. "I don't think he supports him the way he used to."
"I think Tigerclaw is only interested in power," Willowpelt hissed. "You might not remember what it was like before he was deputy, but I do. Tigerclaw's always been a bully and a glutton for power." She lashed her tail. "Deputyship may have refined his attitude, but I don't think it's resolved his ambitions."
Ambitions? Sandstorm frowned. Tigerclaw had been deputy for as long as Sandstorm had been alive. He had always seemed like Thistlestar's loyal companion. Maybe he's ambitious, but he's never done anything to go against Thistlestar! She had half a mind to retort that things were changing, but Willowpelt was her senior, and so she bit her lip. Willowpelt is a good warrior, even if she is suspicious, she thought. It won't help me to get on her bad side by defending Tigerclaw of all cats.
"Just stay alert, Sandstorm," Willowpelt warned, ears flat. "I don't rightly understand all that's been happening this last moon… but I'm sure it's going to get worse before it gets better.
Fireheart was dreaming. The sun shone down on him as he walked along the river. There was no snow or ice or freezing wind, only pleasant warmth. RiverClan cats splashed in the water, familiar but distorted by sleep. He glanced to his side, and found that Sandstorm stood by him, smiling. She opened her mouth to speak.
A yowl of terror pierced through his dream, jolting him awake. Fireheart let out a yelp as someone stumbled over him.
"FLOOD!"
The Warriors' Den immediately erupted into chaos. Cats were leaping up and crashing into one another as Weaselfoot tore through the den, yowling as loudly as he could.
Fireheart's first reaction was confusion and denial—he lifted his head slowly, blinking, not quick to jump out of his nest—but a heartbeat later, he saw what the trouble was. Water was flowing freely into the Warriors' Den. His nest was near the back, not yet impacted, but it was already rushing over the nests of other cats as they ran out of the den frantically.
Grasspelt, who had been asleep a fox-length away, jumped over and shoved him. "Move!" she hissed. "We need to get out!"
"Go!" Fireheart told her, as he stood and found his footing. Grasspelt nodded and rushed towards the mouth of the den. Cats were flooding out as quickly as water was flooding in. As Fireheart hurried to get near the opening, water was already reaching him, flowing over his paws. He gasped as icy cold rushed through him. The water was freezing.
Finally, the way out cleared, and he bounded free of the den—and into a waking nightmare.
Freezing rain was pouring from the sky. The temperature outside had warmed with the early morning—not enough to actually feel warm to any cat, but enough to make it rain and thaw the bounds of the river enough for it to break free of the banks. The reed barrier had been completely flattened by rushing water, which was spreading to all corners of the camp.
No cat was taking time to take stock of the situation—pure instinct was taking over as cats shrieked and ran for the nearest trees. Fireheart followed behind Dawnwhisker as she pelted for a willow that grew behind the Apprentices' Den. She leaped up in a single bound, and Fireheart followed close behind. He clawed his way up and clung to a low branch, his heart pounding.
This can't be happening! Fireheart panted as he shared a terrified glance with Dawnwhisker.
As Dawnwhisker caught her breath, she looked back down at the camp. "Where's Leopardfur?" she demanded.
Fireheart looked around. Cats were all climbing the nearest trees as the water flowed faster through camp. It grew in height by the heartbeat.
A desperate wail rang out. "My kits!"
Fireheart and Dawnwhisker both snapped to attention. Brambleflower was struggling against the flow of the water, trying to make it to Lichenkit, who was perched on a boulder in a corner of camp. Fireheart felt a wave of horror as he saw three other scraps of fur being carried away by the water. "We have to help them!" he shouted. He didn't wait for Dawnwhisker to reply as he leaped from the tree and into the flood.
The air went out of his lungs as he was slammed with the shock of the cold and the power of the flood. Fireheart paddled hard, trying to right himself, as he set his sights on Dipperkit. The little tom was being swept downstream, and Fireheart swam with the current as quickly as he could.
The kit seemed to have luck on his side—the current swept him right into the roof of the Apprentices' Den, where he hooked his claws in and clung for dear life.
"I'm coming!" Fireheart yowled. He angled himself in the water so the current would bring him to Dipperkit. With a few more strokes, he reached the tom and grabbed him by the scruff. Fireheart let the water push him back towards the willow, then sank his claws in and dragged them both up the trunk with much difficulty.
He set Dipperkit down on the branch, gasping for air. Fireheart shuddered violently and gripped the branch with all his remaining strength. His limbs felt frozen—jumping in again would kill him, and he knew it. Paralyzed by fear and cold, Fireheart crouched on the branch, Dipperkit pressed against his chest. He scanned the remnants of camp. Although many of his Clanmates had made it to the trees, some were still struggling in the water. Brambleflower had made it to the boulder, and was standing on it with Lichenkit swinging from her jaws. Across camp, Duckpaw was swimming for a tree, holding Sootkit by the scruff.
Fireheart felt his throat tighten as he locked his gaze on the apprentice. Duckpaw was clearly struggling—still a young apprentice himself, the weight of the three-moon-old kit was a struggle for him to handle. He was nearing a beech tree, where Silverthorn and Petalstream were perched, calling out to him. Duckpaw drew closer, trying to lift Sootkit clear of the water and into the reach of Silverthorn, who was hanging from his branch in an attempt to take Sootkit from the apprentice.
Fireheart held his breath as Silverthorn reached closer. Duckpaw managed to sink his claws into the trunk and hold still.
A tree limb, dislodged by the force of the flood, came rushing towards Duckpaw. Petalstream let out a warning cry as she spotted it.
Too late.
The branch smashed into Duckpaw with a dull thump, tearing him and Sootkit away from the safety of the tree. Duckpaw didn't make a sound as the tree limb was pushed over him, forcing him underwater.
Fireheart clenched his eyes shut as hard he could, bile rising in his throat. Fear courses through him, and he pulled Dipperkit as close as he could with a paw. StarClan help us!
"Mama!" Dipperkit wailed. "Where's Mama?"
Fireheart couldn't reply. His throat was so tight he thought he might suffocate. The image of Duckpaw struck by the branch replayed in his mind, over and over. He clutched the drenched kit to him, ears flat, as his heart pounded and blood roared in his ears.
Another desperate cry forced his eyes open.
"Crookedstar!"
Fireheart jolted his head in the direction of the cry. Mudfur, Blackclaw, and Maplepaw were all in one tree, looking down at Crookedstar. The elderly tom was clinging to the trunk, half in the water. Debris rushed around him, but nothing seemed to be about to strike him down like poor Duckpaw.
Still, the pale tom was struggling to pull himself up. The water revealed how much his health had declined. His pelt wasn't shedding water nicely—instead, his wet pelt was matted down, revealing his bony frame underneath. Crookedstar's eyes were wide, and foam frothed in his jaws from the effort of pulling himself up.
"Jump!" Blackclaw yowled to him. The branch that he was on was the lowest, but it was at least two fox-lengths above Crookedstar—too far for such an unhealthy cat to leap from a rapid flood, and too far for Blackclaw to reach down and pull him up. The warrior's eyes were wide with horror, as though he were realizing the impossibility.
Fireheart steeled himself despite his trembling. I have to help him! He tried to stand enough to get into a position to make another leap. He would have to jump far to be able to make it to Crookedstar, otherwise, Fireheart would just be swept away.
Other cats seemed to be reaching the same conclusion. All around the boundary of the camp, cats were uneasily trying to crouch and judge the distance of the leap to their leader.
"Just hang on!" Silverstream cried. She was the farthest away, on the opposite end of camp.
"We're coming!" Mallowtail shouted. Shellpaw was pressed to her side.
"Don't let go!" Petalstream yowled.
Crookedstar sank down a hair as he stopped trying to pull himself out. He held onto the trunk with his claws and planted as he looked all around him, his gaze traveling from one desperate Clanmate to the next.
"Crookedstar!" Fireheart called. "I'm coming!" He braced himself to leap, but a gust of wind shook the branch, making him hesitate and grip the bark to not be knocked free.
Crookedstar seemed to furrow his brow for a moment. He looked up once more at Blackclaw, who was himself looking ready to leap into the flood. Crookedstar set his jaw.
Then, slowly, Crookedstar closed his eyes, let go of the trunk, and slipped into the water. In a single instant, the RiverClan leader was swept away by the flood, forever out of reach of any cat who had hoped to save him.
