CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

We need to talk about Russet.

He sent those words, heavy, cold, straight into Dawncloud's mind. It was probably too harsh. It probably hurt her. In that moment, though, Sootclaw couldn't stop himself. Thistleclaw's message had been too much. He should have ignored the Dark Forest warrior, been able to push his words aside and resist temptation, but…

Thistleclaw's words still echoed in his mind. You're losing Dawncloud, the tom had said. She's always going to put ThunderClan before you. It was ridiculous that Sootclaw was still thinking about it, but after Thistleclaw had told him the truth about Russet, and about Sootclaw's fate – you're doomed to rot in the Dark Forest – how could he keep it from his mind?

Dawncloud had lied to him. She had known the darkness would drag him into the depths and she had lied to him for moons. She had comforted him after the plane crash, had supported him as ShadowClan and RiverClan rebuilt their lives, had looked him in the eyes and told him she loved him - all while knowing he was destined for the dark.

The darkness in his head buzzed, and made him angrier. It pushed his thoughts, creating a wave of fury ready to crash down on Dawncloud. It wanted him to fight her. He wanted to yell – it would feel so good, to yell. He had to be the perfect ShadowClan warrior, had to organize an army for a war, had to do it all without kits, without family, without a future. It would feel so good to yell. Just to lose control, for one sweet moment.

We need to talk about Russet.

You know, said Dawncloud. She didn't even try to deny it. She sounded nervous, but not nearly as tired as she had been the last few days. She had recovered from the journey and the fight, then. Sootclaw hadn't even bothered to ask how the recruitment had gone. There was only one thing on his mind.

Sootclaw's stomach dropped as soon as Dawncloud confirmed it. On the outside, he was in his nest in ThunderClan camp, surrounded by warriors. On the inside, he was adrift, upset, set loose from everything that had once anchored him. Dawncloud lied. It's true, then, he said. I'm doomed. Destined for the Dark Forest.

We don't know that for sure, Dawncloud said.

That's where Russet went.

She paused, then: Yes.

You knew, Sootclaw said. He tried and failed to keep his tone calm. He had gone into this conversation angry; there was no changing his feelings now. You knew and you didn't tell me.

We had just won, she said. I didn't want to hurt you. I thought it would kill you, if you knew what had happened to Russet. That he never went to StarClan. And then I thought… what would telling you do, except cause you anguish and pain?

It wasn't your decision to make, he said, bitterness twisting his words.

You made me hold your pain before, Dawncloud reminded him. When Hailstripe died. When you couldn't handle it.

That's different, Sootclaw snapped. I'm stronger now.

Another hesitation. He felt the sadness radiating from her, moving through all the threads that wove her mind to his, all the anxiety and guilt and regret. Then, very quietly, she said: It was supposed to be you.

He stiffened. What?

You were supposed to take the darkness and die. You would go to the Dark Forest. Shredtail said that it was the only way I could come back.

It took a moment for her words to make sense in his mind. The implication staggered him and he fought for breath, for words. I was going to switch with you.

Yes. But Russet did instead.

You were going to let me die, let me suffer in the Dark Forest, so you could come back.

I didn't know, Sootclaw, she insisted. Not until it was too late. Not until you had already started. That's when they showed me –

But he couldn't stomach it. Dawncloud, I… What did he say to that? He wished he could encapsulate all his pain. He loved her, was connected to her above anyone else, and she had done this to him. How could she had have kept this secret?

I'm so sorry, she said at last. I was scared.

What could he say?

Silence stretched between them. He could feel her confusion, her desperation, her sorrow. She knew she had done wrong; she had tried to protect him and it had failed. He hated that he understood her. He hated that she wasn't trying to justify it or argue. Even when she was wrong, she was too good, and in this moment, he hated her for it.

How did you know? she asked at last.

I had a dream.

From StarClan?

No. It was one word, but it was heavy, and it told her all she needed to know. If it wasn't StarClan, it was the Dark Forest.

You can't trust them, Sootclaw! Finally her voice was frantic – finally a wild, unfiltered reaction.

I can't trust you either, apparently, he spat back.

What else did they tell you?

Things that I thought were lies. His kits. Thistleclaw had offered to bring him his kits. If Thistleclaw had been telling the truth about Russet and Dawncloud…

You can't listen to them! she said. No - she pleaded.

Sootclaw jerked like he had been stung. He could sense it in her voice, that one millisecond of doubt, that for a brief moment she thought he could fall victim to the lies. Like his father had. You can't honestly believe that I would?

Well, no –

You think I'm going to turn bad, he said. You think I'm just like my father. After all, we're both going to end up in the Dark Forest.

It was Dawncloud's turn to flinch back. Their minds were so close that Sootclaw could feel every inch and vibration of her pain, and he was sure she could feel his anger thrumming like a second heartbeat sending ice through her veins. It would have been preferable to have been distant, to have a chasm grow between them. But they were inextricably linked and the pain and anger melded into one furious, throbbing splinter.

Sootclaw… she murmured.

Enough, he said, before his anger could overwhelm him further, before he would say something he would truly regret. It was on the tip of his tongue, and he knew it would feel good to be cruel, but he held himself back. Enough.

He pulled away from her and pictured the cave, just as he had moons ago, and while Dawncloud suffered on the other side, he rebuilt the wall, stone by stone, piling those rocks firmly on his side so not even the vibrations of their sorrow could set them loose. When it was done, he lay his head on his paws and drew in a deep breath, on the vain hope that the influx of air would bring colour back to his ashen soul.

I won't be Falconswoop, he thought.

But he would be down there with him, soon enough.

.

Sootclaw stayed in his nest a long time, feeling rather sorry for himself, and only came out when voices began to rise in the camp. He thought he had shaken this self-pity after the crash, and thought that taking on more responsibility within the Clans would give him purpose. It was only a few days ago that Eaglestar had praised him. But there was no reasoning with the grey feeling that had sunk deep into his bones and stomach. He hadn't eaten either, but the thought of eating prey was like ash in his mouth.

So he slowly pulled himself from the den in order to see what the commotion was about. The day was warm and a little too humid, and his fur itched uncomfortably with the thickness of the air. The sky was a soft blue and interspersed with clouds, a large one of which was currently casting a shadow over the centre of camp, where a group of cats were clustered.

Birchcloud was examining Whitestream. The RiverClan she-cat was injured, black smoke curling from a gash on her shoulder, and as Sootclaw approached he heard the medicine cat instructing her to ShadowClan camp for further medical treatment. Reedthroat hovered at her side, while the third member of their patrol, Larchstripe, was closer to the camp entrance and murmuring to Slatestar, likely describing to him the details of the fight.

The first real injury. So it was starting.

"Sootclaw!" Redfur called him over. She was at the base of the Highledge, looking more tired than he remembered seeing her before. Had she even slept the night before?

"Good morning, Redfur," he replied, dipping his head to the deputy as he padded over. Maybe it was the afternoon now; he wasn't sure. If she was disappointed he had spent the morning resting in the den, she didn't say anything.

"I'd like you to lead the next patrol," the white-and-ginger she-cat said. "Go to where Whitestream was attacked. Larchstripe says that they chased off the wraiths but I'm worried they'll sense weakness. Firm up the scent markers and make sure no one is skulking around."

Firm up the scent markers, like that would do anything to stop the wraiths. Reflexively he went to share that with Dawncloud, expecting her to roll her eyes, and then stopped when his thoughts hit the blockade. Right.

"Of course."

"Take, let's see, Frostpool," Redfur said, calling over the white WindClan warrior, who was just polishing off a small mouse.

"Certainly," said Frostpool, swiping a tongue over her lips as she finished her meal. It awed Sootclaw to see a warrior from an enemy Clan accept Redfur's direction so easily. Then again, isn't that what RiverClan had been doing the whole time?

"And then take one other cat," Redfur finished, looking around.

"I'll come too," volunteered a new voice. Sootclaw glanced over to see Owlfeather padding toward the group. His stomach twisted tight, like a vine wrapped over itself a hundred times. Thistleclaw's voice sounded in his head. Bring us Owlfeather. He's an enemy warrior. Bring him to us and I'll bring you your kits.

Sootclaw glanced over to Redfur, silently begging her to refuse, but the deputy had already moved on to the next group. He and Frostpool were stuck with Owlfeather. No, thought Sootclaw. Maybe there's still a way – but he couldn't back out. Not with the way Frostpool was looking expectantly at him.

"Are you all right, Sootclaw?" asked Owlfeather. The skinny tom looked sombre, a pain pooling in his eyes. That's right, Sootclaw remembered. He lost Mouseheart.

His mouth was dry. "I'm fine," he said, but it was a lie. Is this how it started with Falconswoop? One offer? What did they promise him? What made him turn?

He had been through this moons ago. He was not his father. He would not let his ambition turn him against the Clans. He would accept his fate with dignity; he would save them regardless of whether or not he would make it to StarClan. His heart pulsed with pain.

I could bear it, Sootclaw thought, if only I could see my kits one last time.

Owlfeather gave Frostpool a nervous glance. It was subtle, but Sootclaw didn't miss it. He immediately tensed. He didn't need to give them a reason to be suspicious; so he shook out his pelt and let out a yawn. "Just not sleeping well," he said, which wasn't technically a lie. "I'm sure you can relate."

"Yeah," said Owlfeather, after a pause, and pure vulnerability flashed across his face. He had lost as much as any of them. He looked so small and frail, in the shadow of the quarry, the wind making a cloud of his feather-like fur. "Well. Anyway."

"Let's get a move on," Frostpool interjected, sensing the awkwardness. She touched her tail to Owlfeather's flank in an stilted gesture of compassion and then stiffly led the way out of ThunderClan camp. "The sooner we go out, the sooner we're back."

Out and back. Like they weren't building to something. Like they could patrol the borders over and over again and there wouldn't be a bigger fight. Like Whitestream hadn't been oozing black smoke and pus.

"Right," said Sootclaw. Owlfeather was still staring at him, like he could sense something was wrong. Sootclaw didn't know what to tell him. How did he explain the sudden defeatism that had come over him? The knowledge that the darkness in his brain pulled at him like the centre of the earth was sucking his paws through the ground and to the hell below?

They moved on, Frostpool leading and Sootclaw taking the rear. Every step through ThunderClan territory was unfamiliar, and made his pelt prickle. He remembered being here moons ago, when Branchpaw's possession had reached its peak. He had rushed here, banishing the image of Falconswoop's broken body from his mind, to sit beside Dawnpaw –

The memory hurt and he stowed it away.

Lilystream was dead. His kits, if not dead, lost to him. Dawncloud, moving on. She probably hated him now, from behind the wall he had created. Flowerpelt, on patrol, spending her time with Berryfang now. Pigeonflight, who had come into his own as a warrior. And Kitetail, his brother, his best friend, now so far from him Sootclaw had no hope of bringing him back.

Well, he thought sourly, aren't I just so optimistic?

But this was how the Dark Forest did it. This was how they got you. Sootclaw's eyes bored holes into Owlfeather's shoulders. Bring him to us.

I can't, he thought, but at the same time… It would be easy.

As they passed a large stand of oaks, Owlfeather naturally took over the lead, showcasing his familiarity with the territory as Frostpool realized she didn't know the path to the border. The ThunderClan warrior looked young, with his skinny form and wide eyes, but even with his sadness, there was a steadiness and quiet confidence that revealed his maturity.

Frostpool slowed until she was walking beside Sootclaw. Like Owlfeather, she looked younger than her moons, though he knew she was one of WindClan's senior warriors. "You're quiet," she observed.

"This is a lot," Sootclaw reminded her, deflecting. "Dark Forest, army of wraiths, et cetera."

"You don't need to tell me," she said, offering him a wry grin. "I lived it."

"Mm."

"I mean it, Sootclaw," she continued. "I spent moons with that darkness inside my head, so I know how horrible it must be for you. It was unending, for us. Like I was in a dream, forced to watch myself do these horrible things…"

"What are you saying, Frostpool?" he asked. He didn't have the patience. The others knew he had taken the darkness into him, and that he had a sensitivity to it now. He doubted they knew the full extent of the trauma.

"That I know it's hard, is all," she said, not at all taken aback by his abrupt tone. She had apparently refined her patience over the years. "The darkness makes you like these things. It makes the horror taste sweet. We all felt it, but none of us want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry for what you went through," he replied, his words measured. He had been ready to sacrifice himself to save them. Now, her words were a reminder that his debt had not yet been collected.

"But we're free now," Frostpool mewed. "Because of you. No matter how hard this is, no matter the wraiths and the war – this freedom, to have that noise out of my head, to feel the connection between all the Clans… it's worth fighting for."

"You like the Clans being connected?" he asked, curious, fixating on that to avoid the implications of the rest.

"StarClan says there should always be four, right?" Frostpool said, and then she shrugged. "How far has that ever gotten us?"

Sootclaw mulled that over the rest of the way to the border.

.

The humidity had only grown as the afternoon dragged on, and Sootclaw's pads were itching by the time they reached the tangle of bracken where Whitestream had been attacked. There were tufts of fur caught on thorns, and pawprints pressed deep in the mud. Droplets of blood made circles on the ground, tracing the flow of the battle. He could scent stale fear and mingled Clan-scent.

"Why?" Sootclaw wondered as he examined the remnants of the fight. "Are they trying to scare us? To wear us down? Why spend their energy on skirmishes, why not just attack and be done with it?"

"Maybe they aren't strong enough yet," said Frostpool.

That was the explanation that made the most sense, and consistent with Kitetail's account that the wraiths could start shifting into their true forms, if only for a moment. They were gathering strength, preparing their army, waiting for a time they could assume their true forms permanently. But if that was the case… "Why waste their energy on our borders?"

"To remind us to be afraid?" Frostpool said, clearly uncertain.

Owlfeather stepped up to remark the border. As he was doing so, there came a loud crack, like a stick snapping, from across the border and behind the bracken. The trio stiffened and Owlfeather delicately brought his leg back down to his side, his eyes comically huge against his small face.

There was another heavy footstep, and then a third. Sootclaw pinpointed the noise to behind a thick patch of bracken on their left, just over the boundary, and he directed Frostpool's attention toward it using his tail. The white she-cat dropped into a crouch. Sootclaw opened his mouth to scent and barely kept himself from recoiling. Redfur was right – the wraiths were still here. Darkness stained his mouth and ran down his throat.

The pawsteps grew louder... and they were heading toward Owlfeather. But Owlfeather just stared at Sootclaw. He was trembling. "They took Mouseheart," he whispered. Sootclaw felt his heart sink. Owlfeather was in no condition to fight; he was traumatized from the earlier experience. They shouldn't have let him go on patrol, should have insisted he go to ShadowClan camp with the others…

"Owlfeather," Sootclaw hissed. "Come here."

Owlfeather didn't move as the bushes rustled behind him. Mousebrain, thought Sootclaw, not without sympathy. He had no time to think anything else, however, because the bushes parted and the wraith leapt.

Time slowed. The wraith loomed before him, its monstrous form blotting out the sun. The darkness filled Sootclaw's vision, a mass of black smoke shifting and reforming into a cat-like silhouette with claws that stretched longer than physically possible and fangs extended outward like a snake. For a split-second the darkness shimmered and he saw fur and muscle and eyes glowing with hatred – and then it was darkness once again as it landed on Owlfeather.

The scrawny tom struggled, but it was too late; the wraith had him pinned to the ground. A cry froze in Sootclaw's throat. His paws felt rooted to the ground. He could only watch as the wraith raised its claws above the tom's neck. Owlfeather's eyes, panicked and wide, met Sootclaw's, begging for help. But Sootclaw was transported moons back and a Clan away, watching Russetpaw pin down Hailstripe, watching his father sit, unmoving, ready to cut in and finish the job.

Bring us Owlfeather. Bring him to us and I'll bring you your kits.

X

A/N: Sootclaw won't let them kill Owlfeather... right!? Anyway, please enjoy angsty Sootclaw! I'm so proud of him and how far he's come, but this revelation must be crushing. Don't worry, he only has one more devastating revelation to go. Next chapter will be Dawncloud reacting to their fight, chatting with an old friend, and of course more bonding with Thickfur.

Thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)