"Mousefur, a hunting patrol to Tallpines," Tigerclaw meowed. He stood surrounded by warriors, doling out orders for the morning. Sandstorm was behind Mosstail, waiting her turn to be given a patrol. "Take Mistyfoot, Mosstail, and all your apprentices."

Mousefur nodded. "Yes, sir." She backed away, followed by Mosstail.

Sandstorm took the opportunity to move closer to Tigerclaw. "May I have a patrol?" she asked.

Tigerclaw glanced her way. "Wait a moment, Sandstorm," he meowed. "I have a matter to discuss with you."

Sandstorm bristled nervously. Something to discuss? Immediately, her mind buzzed with possibilities. Had Tigerclaw found out about Fireheart? Or had he decided to tell Thistlestar that the loss of Sunningrocks was her fault?

Tigerclaw looked away once more and caught sight of Addertail. "Ah, Addertail! Take another hunting party by the Owl Tree. Bring Graystripe and Swiftpaw. Do me a favor and bring along Thornpaw, will you? I'm not sure I'll have the time to train him properly today."

"Of course, sir!" Addertail hastily meowed. "But couldn't we lead a border patrol instead? Mousefur's patrol is sure to find enough for the morning—"

Tigerclaw silenced him with a lash of his tail. "Best to take advantage of the thaw while it lasts," he replied sternly. "Winter came early, and StarClan has blessed us with a short chance for more prey before it truly sets in. But you may as well check over the RiverClan border as well. They might be tempted to hunt beyond their bounds after the flood."

"Y-yes, sir," Addertail nodded and backed away.

Sandstorm kneaded her paws. Come on, come on...

Tigerclaw, however, continued to scan the Clan, apparently oblivious to her anxiety. "Redtail!" He called. "You and Birchfoot are to help Ravenpaw gather herbs. He requested more paws to help bolster his store before the plants are gone to frost."

Sandstorm glanced towards Redtail. Her father looked briefly confused, but he nodded. "Alright."

Tigerclaw is keeping cats busy, Sandstorm thought. But it makes sense. He's right about the thaw. It was horrible for RiverClan… but it's the last chance for a good store of prey and herbs for us.

With that, Tigerclaw turned to her and sat. "Now, about that matter I mentioned." He curled his tail around his paws. "Sit."

Trying to keep herself from bristling with unease, Sandstorm sat. "Sir?"

"The nursery is about to fill up," Tigerclaw meowed. "Brindleface is due by the next quarter-moon, and Whitecloud shortly after. Speckletail has been making it clear to me that Snowkit is ready for a mentor."

Sandstorm's eyes widened. He can't mean… he wants to give me an apprentice? In an instant, all her worries were replaced by a rush of excitement. This is fantastic!

Tigerclaw twitched his whiskers as she began to grin. "I would like for you to mentor Snowkit," he meowed. "However, there is one issue."

"Issue?" Sandstorm blurted. Oh, fox-dung, he does know about Fireheart, doesn't he? She wanted to lash her tail. Why does he have to be such a nerve-wracking brute? Just spit it out already!

"It's nothing to do with you, Sandstorm," Tigerclaw assured her. "Ravenpaw and Speckletail have been keeping it quiet, but Snowkit is deaf. To Thistlestar, training him is out of the question. He prefers to leave him in the nursery for the next few moons and then move him to the elders' den."

Sandstorm blinked a few times, surprised by this. "But that's horrible!" she exclaimed. "Hasn't anyone asked him what he wants?"

Tigerclaw sighed. "Communication hasn't been easy," he meowed. "The elders know of 'pawspeak', and say that there are cats in WindClan who use it regularly. But they've only taught Snowkit a few basic signs. Halftail suggested requesting help from the WindClan elders, but Thistlestar forbade that as well.. He sees no use in Snowkit."

"Use?" Sandstorm hissed. Disgust welled up in her, along with the nagging urge to find Thistlestar and claw him in the face. She unsheathed her claws and sank them into the ground. "What's the use of forcing a kit to sit in a den for his entire life?"

Tigerclaw shrugged. "I've tried to reason with him. He… has been beyond reason lately. He refuses to leave his den… And when he does, he lashes out." He looked thoughtful. "Some say the last life of a leader is the hardest to bear," he meowed. "Yet it lasts the longest, at the expense of the Clan."

This is Thistlestar's last life? Sandstorm frowned. He won't be leader forever, then. The tom was old, there was no denying that. And he seemed to be rapidly losing any rationality.

Tigerclaw's gaze travelled over towards the gorse tunnel. He stared at it for a few heartbeats, then sighed. Sandstorm glanced towards it curiously. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She looked back towards him. His amber gaze was distant, yet he seemed tense, his thick fur slightly bristling. His long claws curled out from his paws.

What's eating him? Sandstorm wondered.

"Thistlestar has led for many seasons," Tigerclaw meowed casually. "But how much do his warriors respect him?" He looked to Sandstorm, his gaze searching.

Is that an actual question? She wondered. Tigerclaw continued to stare. Sandstorm shifted uncomfortably. Finally, she admitted, "I don't think I do, anymore."

"Hmm." Tigerclaw flicked an ear. "And do you think others feel the same?"

Sandstorm swallowed. She thought of Willowpelt's stubborn distrust, of Frostfur and Brightpaw, of the fight with Dustpelt. The fear in her Clanmates' eyes when Thistlestar deigned to emerge from his den. "I think everyone is just afraid of him." She eyed him carefully, tense, ready to spring away should he strike her for her insolence. "I don't think anyone believes in him."

Tigerclaw blinked slowly. He looked away towards the gorse tunnel again. "Well… I hope you're right."

What's that supposed to mean? Sandstorm wondered.

Then, Tigerclaw straightened up, eyes wide. "Intruders!" he yowled.

Sandstorm jumped. She glanced sharply towards the camp entrance. As though Tigerclaw's warning call had summoned them, unfamiliar cats were suddenly pouring through the gorse tunnel, screeching and yowling. They flooded the slope of the ravine down into camp like a swarm of rats.

It's an attack! Sandstorm arched her back and hissed. "Invasion!" she shrieked. She braced herself to charge forward, but instinct held her back. The sheer number of them stalled her. Cats were crashing through the tunnel in twos and threes, racing to every corner of the camp and pouncing upon the few cats out in the open. She didn't recognize any of them. What is this?! Sandstorm shook her head and forced herself to charge forward.

She reared to meet an attacker that pounced for her. A black molly, scrawny and filthy, barreled into her. The two cats tumbled over and over. Sandstorm bit down on the enemy's bony tail, and the stranger wailed. Her stench flooded Sandstorm's senses, nearly making her gag. The black cat kicked out furiously, tearing herself free. But instead of turning to fight Sandstorm again, she tore off for the ravine, climbing desperately back up the way she had come.

"Coward!" Sandstorm snarled. They're just a bunch of stupid rogues! She turned to find another fight.

She set her sights on the nearest rogue, a mangy ginger tom that was bounding in the direction of the Elders' Den. She leaped forward, landing directly in his path. "Mange-pelt!" she spat. "What are you doing here?!"

The tom arched his back and hissed, but he looked more nervous than menacing. His ginger pelt was matted and caked with dirt, and he was skinny like the molly. "Get back!" he hissed. "Back! Back!"

Sandstorm nearly laughed at how pathetic he was. Is this what all rogues are like? She felt a brief moment of gratitude for her warrior training and the dignity of being a Clan cat. She lunged forward, and he squealed and ran off without even trying to get in a blow.

"This is a joke!" Sandstorm huffed. She whirled on her paws, looking for another cat. She was too slow to notice a cat charging in from behind, and before she knew what was happening, someone crashed into her haunches and knocked her to the ground.

Sandstorm rolled onto her back and hissed. A thick-haired tortoiseshell loomed over her, ears flat. This molly was not like the two cats before—her eyes were bright, her teeth bared. She snarled back at Sandstorm and dealt her a blow across the face.

Sandstorm should have felt claws tearing through her nose, but instead, she was only hit with the surface of a paw. Sandstorm shook her head and hissed, and the tortoiseshell smacked her again.

Why isn't she fighting with claws? Sandstorm snarled furiously and kicked with both her hindlegs. They smashed into the tortoiseshell's belly, sending her flying a fox-length away. Sandstorm rolled to her paws, tail lashing. She straightened up and let her gaze sweep the camp. So many of the rogues were fleeing already, despite the few cats fighting back against them.

It alarmed her to realize just how few Clanmates there were present. Tigerclaw had sent so many out on patrol. She could see Dustpelt crouched outside the Elder's Den with Bluefur, sending off any rogue that dared come near. Speckletail, Willowpelt, and Darkstripe were protecting the nursery.

Where is Tigerclaw? Panic gripped her. Had the rogues cut down her deputy? She couldn't find him among the mass of rogues running in and out of camp.

"ThunderClan, attack!"

Sandstorm hurriedly looked up towards the ravine again. Mousefur was racing down the slope into camp, her patrol and all their apprentices behind her. Thank StarClan! She breathed a sigh of relief. Even one of the large patrols was a blessing. She watched as Mousefur leaped and pounced on the back of a massive black-and-white tom. The tom yowled and reared, swiping his huge paws in the air.

Wait. Sandstorm's eyes widened in recognition. That catthat's Blackfoot! He was not just any rogue—he was the former deputy of ShadowClan, under Brokenstar's leadership. Were the former ShadowClan rogues the ones leading this random assault?

I have to find Tigerclaw! She spun around on her paws, searching desperately for him. He had disappeared from her sight as soon as the battle had begun. Sandstorm's gaze fell upon the Tallrock, where not a single cat could be seen fighting.

There was, however, a dark brown tail that disappeared inside the den.

Tigerclaw! Had rogues gone into Thistlestar's den to attack him? Sandstorm narrowed her eyes and raced towards the opening in the rock. Like Thistlestar or not, she was honor-bound to protect him. She burst in through the hanging moss and stopped dead in her tracks.

There was no rogue in the den.

There was only Thistlestar and Tigerclaw, locked in a bloody combat.

Sandstorm watched in stunned horror as leader and deputy circled each other. Both toms were bleeding from small scratches. Tigerclaw's ear had split, and his gaze was hardened with determination. Thistlestar's eyes were wide and his pelt dusty.

Thistlestar snarled furiously. "Traitor!" He swung a huge paw at Tigerclaw, who swatted it away. "After everything I did for you!" Thistlestar lunged forward and snapped, but Tigerclaw dodged to the side. "I trained you! I made you my deputy! You are nothing without me!"

"No!" Tigerclaw spat. "You are nothing without me! Your Clan hates and fears you!" He lashed out and slashed his claws across Thistlestar's face. "Your time is over!" He leaped and crashed into Thistestar, and the two toms came rolling and wrestling towards the den entrance.

Sandstorm yowled and leaped back out of the den. The two mighty warriors tumbled out, scattering blood and fur as they clawed and fought for dominance. Sandstorm stood and bristled, still unsure of how to act. Getting between them to help either party on her own was sure to earn her a clawing.

This whole attack! Sandstorm's eyes widened in realization. It was Tigerclaw! She looked around frantically. The rogues were retreating as quickly as they had entered camp. Some didn't even throw themselves at a ThunderClan warrior, and most were only missing scraps of fur. They' weren't trying to kill us… they were just a distraction!

Mousefur's yowl rang out. "Thistlestar's attacking Tigerclaw!"

Neither tom took any notice as they continued to claw and roll. But the Clan did. As rogues were abandoning the fight, ThunderClan cats were drawn to the fight between leader and deputy.

"Someone stop them!" Halftail cried. "They'll kill each other!"

A few cats darted forward. Dustpelt and Darkstripe both lunged for Thistlestar, Darkstripe grabbing his scruff in his jaws, and Dustpelt hooking his claws into his pelt. Mousefur and Speckletail both shoved at Tigerclaw, knocking him off balance. Frostfur bravely ran to stand between them, her back arched. Thistlestar lunged forward against the pull of Darkstripe and Dustpelt.

Sandstorm narrowed her eyes and leaped forward to stand beside Frostfur, acting as a barricade with her.

More cats ran to help. Mosstail pounced at Thistlestar, helping to force him to the ground. Mistyfoot helped Speckletail to keep hold of Tigerclaw.

A few tense moments passed. All were silent—save for Tigerclaw and Thistlestar, who were both snarling like frenzied dogs. They struggled against the cats that held them back, but even the pair of mighty warriors could only struggle so much against three cats apiece.

The elders pushed their way forward to surround their leader and deputy. One-eye, the eldest warrior in all of ThunderClan, lashed her tail. "What is the meaning of this?!" she loudly demanded. "Leader and deputy fighting in the midst of an invasion! Explain yourselves!"

Sandstorm watched warily as the warriors moved away from their leader and deputy, allowing both toms to stand. Thistlestar let out a furious hiss as he stared down Tigerclaw, looking over the backs of Frostfur and Sandstorm. To Sandstorm's relief, Dustpelt padded into the middle to stand beside her. They won't attack each other again if we all stay here, Sandstorm thought. Still, her heart was pounding, and her mind was swimming with confusion. Tigerclaw was going to kill Thistlestar. Would he really use rogues to distract us? She swallowed. How did he get them all to help?

Finally, Thistlestar lashed his tail. "Traitor!" he roared. "Tigerclaw attacked me in my own den! Before I could even come to help in the fight… he charged in and came for me!" His gaze burned with rage.

Frostfur whirled on her paws to face Tigerclaw. She narrowed her eyes. "Is it true?" she demanded.

Sandstorm looked towards the deputy. "The invasion wasn't random, was it?" she asked. She forced herself to keep her voice level. She wasn't foolish enough to think this would all resolve peacefully. Letting either Thistlestar or Tigerclaw think she had chosen a side too early was dangerous. Whose side am I on?

Tigerclaw glanced at both the mollies. His tail twitched, and he smoothed his thick pelt. "Yes," he meowed. "I attacked Thistlestar. The rogues were a diversion."

"So he admits it!" Thistlestar hissed. "Treason! Exile!" He unsheathed his claws once more. "I should kill you where you stand!"

Halftail curled his lip in disdain. "Tigerclaw has broken the warrior code!"

"Tried to kill Thistlestar!"

"Led an assault on us!"

"Betrayed us!"

Cats of ThunderClan were rising into an uproar, yowling. Sandstorm stayed silent. She watched as Tigerclaw flattened his ears, then let out a yowl.

"ThunderClan!" he shouted. "Hear what I have to say!"

"Silence, traitor!" Thistlestar spat. He lunged forward, but Dustpelt and Frostfur hissed at him, forcing him to stay back.

"Please," Tigerclaw loudly meowed. "I did not make my decision lightly! The rogues—should they have they listened to me—were not meant to hurt anyone. I just needed to get to Thistlestar. I hoped to finish him in private."

Sandstorm was appalled by his casual honesty. He can't seriously think that Thistlestar would let him live now?

Tigerclaw went on. "Call me a traitor to him. But I have not betrayed ThunderClan! Be honest—how many of you fear your so-called leader? How many of you worry he has forsaken us?" He looked Frostfur in the eye. "How many of your kits have died for his battles? How many will?"

Sandstorm blinked. She looked past Tigerclaw and caught sight of a number of the rogues who were still in the camp. They were standing apart in their own cluster and watching with keen interest. It didn't look like they had any intention of continuing the fight. Whatever he promised them in return for this… they're waiting to see if they still get it.

Mousefur let out a hiss. "We are ThunderClan!" she retorted. "We never resort to violating the code—even to remove a fleabag!"

Thistlestar's ear twitched, and his gaze burned. But he remained where he was, to Sandstorm's relief.

Tigerclaw lashed his tail. "How many times has Thistlestar broken the code?" he shot back. "He has attacked you, my Clanmates, in our own camp!" He curled his lip. "I tried to liberate you from him. I can make ThunderClan rise to strength again!" Tigerclaw swung his head towards Thistlestar again. "He will drive us to ruin. Think of the strong warriors we have lost!"

Like Stonefur, Sandstorm thought with a wince. His death was so mouse-brained… She felt uncertain. Tigerclaw is right. Thistlestar is cruel and terrible. She slid her gaze towards her leader, who was pacing back and forthalong the barrier of bodies between him and Tigerclaw. He looked as though he was contemplating lunging over or around them to sink his claws back into his deputy. When he stalked by her, Sandstorm could hear his furious low growl, but ragged breath.

But I can't stand up to him without others! Thistlestar will throw me outor worseif enough of us don't say something!

Tigerclaw was quiet, and he looked around the Clan, clearly hoping another cat would speak in his favor.

"He's right." One did.

Sandstorm's eyes widened, and she spun around on her paws. Bluefur?

Bluefur stood, staring at her leader with unabashed hatred in her narrowed eyes. Her ears were flattened in defiance. "I hardly agree with using rogues in the way Tigerclaw did, but he's right about Thistlestar." She arched her back and bristled. "I won't stand for his leadership anymore!"

"Neither will I." Whitecloud padded forward to stand beside her. Sandstorm felt a jolt of shock. Whitecloud, son of Thistlestar—openly standing against him when it mattered most. His expression was hard to read as he looked upon his father. "Thistlestar," he meowed. "Step down. Make it easier on us all."

Thistlestar's eyes bulged as he realized his son had turned upon him. He snarled in response. "You disgrace me!" He took a menacing step towards Whitecloud. "I will never step down. My word is law! You, and you—" he cast a glance at Bluefur. "—Banished!" He whirled on his paws to face Tigerclaw again. "And you! Banished!" His eyes darted about madly. "Get out of my sight! All of you!"

No one moved.

Thistlestar's tail lashed about frantically. "ThunderClan!" he yowled. "Remove the traitors!"

Sandstorm couldn't take it anymore. I can't keep holding back! She thought. I'm always being cautiousalways worried about saying the wrong thingI can't, not now! She lifted her chin and bared her teeth. "No!" she hissed.

Thistlestar jerked his head in her direction. "What did you say?"

"No!" Sandstorm snarled. She raised her voice to a yowl. "ThunderClan doesn't want you anymore!"

Dustpelt stood by her side, his pelt bristling. "You should leave!" he spat. "You've caused so much destruction!"

Mousefur let out a defiant hiss. "This is madness!"

"Shut up!" Frostfur spat in her direction. She too moved to stand beside Sandstorm to stand against Thistlestar.

The tide was quickly turning. Seeing Bluefur and Whitecloud, two respected warriors, stand against Thistlestar, was all some cats needed. While Mousefur and the elders looked on with dismay, the cats of ThunderClan all moved forward to join the growing line of warriors. Sandstorm glanced quickly from side to side, and felt a rush of warm pride as she realized nearly everyone in camp stood with them. There weren't many, thanks to Tigerclaw's patrols, but of the cats in camp, few did not stand at their side.

Thistlestar pressed low to the ground, his ears flattened in fear, as he too saw that he had no chance with his Clan anymore.

Tigerclaw let out a growl. "I banish you, Thistlestar." He leaned forward. "Get out while you have the chance."

Thistlestar made the foolish mistake of trying to swipe at Tigerclaw.

In a flash, the warriors of ThunderClan surged forward. Together, they screeched and leaped for their former leader. Sandstorm leaped with them, letting out a yowl. It was utter chaos. Cats collided with one another in their frenzy to be rid of Thistlestar.

By some stroke of luck, Thistlestar managed to scramble free of the mad assault on him. He wasn't foolish enough to think he could fight his way to victory. Instead, he turned tail and raced for the ravine.

"After him!" Tigerclaw yowled. No cat stopped to question him. Tigerclaw charged after Thistlestar, and so the rest of the Clan followed.

Sandstorm managed to race her way towards the head of the group, just a hair behind Tigerclaw. They surged up the slope of the ravine as Thistlestar scrambled his way up a hairsbreadth ahead of them. The exile managed to haul himself free of the gravelly slope and dove into the gorse tunnel. Sandstorm overtook Tigerclaw in a flash and darted through the tunnel after him.

She didn't make it far. What she saw on the other side of the gorse thicket made her halt in her tracks.

Thistlestar lay twitching, in a pool of his own blood. She stared at him in horror, rooted in place. Buthehe was just

She lifted her gaze and saw the cat standing over him. It was no one she recognized. He was a sleek black tom, slim and angular like a WindClanner, yet not tall enough to pass for one. He met her gaze with piercing blue eyes. The most jarring thing was the monstrosity of a kittypet collar tightly bound to his neck. Yellowed teeth and claws protruded from it.

"You—" Sandstorm choked out. She was at a loss for words. Was this one of the rogues? She hadn't noticed collars on any of them. "How—"

She felt other pelts brush against hers as more cats burst through the tunnel. Dustpelt halted just beside her. Others still were just behind her, and she heard sharp gasps from each of them. Dustpelt shot Sandstorm a mortified look, but she didn't return his glance. Her gaze was fixed on the stranger.

The tom stared back at her, his gaze calculating and cold. He lifted a blood-drenched paw and licked it calmly before standing still again. "As you see," he meowed. "I took care of your little problem." His voice rasped slightly, as though the collar made it difficult to speak. "Though I hardly see what all the trouble was about."

Sandstorm simply blinked. "Who are you?" she blurted.

He didn't give her an answer. The tom twitched his whiskers. "Tell your new leader to remember his debts," he meowed. "Good day." With that, he turned and padded away into the woods.

Sandstorm didn't chase him. She was frozen in place. Her gaze slid down to Thistlestar. Blood was still flowing from the gaping wound in his belly. His eyes were clouded in death, but his paws still twitched. Dustpelt was watching as the stranger padded away. His ears were angled sharply towards him, but he didn't pursue him either. More cats pressed in around them, transfixed by the gruesome sight of their mutliated leader.

Tigerclaw padded by, brushing past Sandstorm as he approached Thistlestar's body. If Tigerclaw had recognized the stranger, he didn't mention it. Instead sniffed at Thistlestar, seemingly undisturbed by the sight of his dead mentor and leader. "That's it, then," he muttered. He glanced behind him. "Darkstripe," he meowed. "Please gather some cats to dispose of this mange-pelt. Don't get the elders."

Sandstorm felt her throat tighten. Elders buried dead bodies. Not involving them meant there wouldn't be a burial. He's going to be dragged to the Thunderpath for the crows to pick at.

A sudden flash of anger seared through him. Well, she thought. Serves him right! He was cruel and heartless. Still, her belly swirled at the sight of him, and she had to tear her gaze away again. But… that cat… who was he? He said Tigerclaw owed him debts… what did that mean?

Sandstorm glanced towards Tigerclaw and briefly caught his gaze. The tabby tom nodded to her. She swallowed again and looked away. Things are changing, she thought. I guess I'm glad Thistlestar is gone… but will Tigerclaw be any better? She cast an uneasy glance back towards the gorse tunnel. Rogues were still skulking about in the camp. What exactly does he owe them?