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Chapter 13

Nettlestar's last moments were full of panting breath, cloudy eyes, and a weakening sense of balance as all strength and sense of direction left his body. His last defiant attack was to end her life, but his fangs had barely scratched her skin when he gave a single, massive jolt and fell still. Like a stiff piece of prey, he collapsed on top of her and Ghost let his weight slide off her carelessly onto the ground as she rolled onto her own paws.

She stood in silence, looking down at the dark tabby tom who was the source of her clients' vehemence. But she felt nothing as she quickly looked over her own wounds, the deep welts in her belly oozed scarlet blood which soaked her pale fur before dripping in fat drops to the ground, staining the snow in scarlet.

Nettlestar was dead, her mission was complete, but there was no relived sigh waiting to be released. There was too much left to do tonight. She observed the mossy training clearing in grimaced, it was a mess. Nettlestar had clawed out clumps of her fur and they drifted over the snow in tiny balls. And as she stood there, the snow was soaking up more of her blood every moment.

It was a messy kill, maybe the messiest she'd ever made, and certainly the messiest in a long time. She'd left a copious amount of evidence and it would be impossible to clean it up before the Clan found Nettlestar—especially since the next night patrol would be passing nearby any moment and would be alerted by scent of blood.

Leaning over Nettlestar, she placed her claws by his throat and tore open a large gash. Blood flowed freely from the wound, but there was no pulsing movement, it seeped out like water through a hole between rocks.

Luckily, she'd covered her scent thickly in pine and greenery, and Nettlestar's blood would cover the scent of her own. While she was sure they would be able to link her to the crime quickly, it would not be immediate, so then Stormfang could become leader before the suspicions got too strong.

Ghost bent down to inspect the wound in Nettlestar's front leg where she'd bitten him in that last attack. It was swollen, but not too much. She wondered if the medicine-cat would be able to identify how Ghost had killed the leader, but hopefully the gash in the throat would distract him from the true source.

Ghost spat the remaining venom from her mouth into the snow, kicking a bit of bloody snow and mud over it to hide the incriminating blotch. The trick was simple, she had found an adder two days ago and killed it, hiding it out of sight until tonight when she had gone and extracted the venom from the deceased snake.

Storing the venom in her mouth, she had injected it into Nettlestar when she had bitten him. Her original plan was to have injected it in one bite to the throat when she landed on him, but he had made her fight harder than expected to inject the venom.

It was a tactic she didn't often use, partially because it was difficult and partially because it was distasteful. But it was highly effective, and even though she'd released it into his paw, the way he had clawed at her, circulating his blood, had helped the toxin to spread until it killed him.

And that's how this frightful leader had died, killed by a silent danger far more deadly than he could have anticipated. Ghost winced as she turned to leave the clearing, moving painfully as the wound on her belly and shoulder burned and stung. She had to blink away flashing lights behind her eyes as she forced herself to put distance between herself and the clearing.

When the cats found Nettlestar, they would first take him back to the camp and their shock and confusion would prevent them from searching for the killer right away. She was sure that Stormfang would put off the search if possible. She estimated she had until moonhigh to hide herself away from the Clan.

She kept to the deepest shadows, dragging her body which felt as heavy as stone. She knew she was leaving a clear trail of blood behind her, but there was no helping it. She avoided the most used routes in the forest and made sure she was moving downwind of the camp, doing everything to hide as much as possible.

Her breath puffed out in billows of fog, and her eyes remained fixed on the undulating lights and shadows that covered the snow. Her head hurt, even though she hadn't suffered a head injury, and the chill in her legs contrasted horribly with the heat in her wounds and head. She forced herself to move in a stealthy stalk, unable to realize that the trail of blood would betray her trail no matter how carefully she tiptoed around.

The route led her to the border with RiverClan, and as moonhigh approached, she crossed the small road that separated the Clan boundaries. Feeling exposed as she crossed the open expanse, she hurried to huddle behind a bunch of reeds.

The border wouldn't stop them from following her trail, she knew that. But maybe she could do something about this bleeding before she was forced to flee. Looking down at her belly, she cringed to see the pale gray fur had turned stiff and red with blood.

Her shoulders too were a deep crimson color and drops had splattered onto her chest fur. She could taste the salty sweetness on her tongue from the few licks she'd given her wounds so far. She felt weak like she'd been walking for days straight, and the pounding in her head grew worse with every step.

Her wounds had lost their cutting-edge pain, and now they throbbed and burned in turn with the dull beat of her heart that echoed in her head. In the clump of dry reeds, Ghost quickly started to lick her belly wounds—they were bleeding and ached the most—but before she'd cleaned a quarter of her wounds she paused, ears twitching as noise floated to her on this cold, cloudless night.

"I told you I smelled blood."

"I wonder if ShadowClan sent a poor rogue on its way with some nasty wounds?"

"Just letting a rogue go at all would be merciful by ShadowClan standards…"

Two voices drifted to Ghost from the east, deeper within RiverClan territory. Getting to her paws abruptly, Ghost turned away from the lake, hoping to reach rogue territory before she was found by more Clan cats.

But after having sat still for a few minutes, moving now was even more painful than before. She limped forward, forcing her legs to move despite how every effort sent pain shooting from her belly and her shoulders so that she had to swallow back bile in her throat.

"There she is!" Ghost froze, breath hollow in her stinging throat. It wasn't a familiar voice—it was one of the two cats that she'd heard earlier. Should I run? The thought crossed her mind as she stumbled suddenly, vision blurring and feeling fading as if the ground has disappeared for a moment. She found her paws a heartbeat before she landed face-first in the snow, but too weak to push herself up again, she ended up on her side. Eyes closed and breath panting as she relished in the soothing cold of the snow on her burning head.

Two pairs of paw-steps approached her, and a strong scent of fish washed over her. The buzzing in her ears prevented her from hearing what they said at first, it was as if her head was under the snow rather than on top of it.

But the buzzing subsided, and silence ensued as Ghost felt she could breathe more easily. She opened her eyes, blinking in surprise when she saw a pair of glowing green eyes and a nose as pink as a berry right in front of her face. Her eyes fixated on the bright nose; I didn't know a nose could be so pink.

"You're awake," the cat mewed matter-of-factly, still staring straight into her eyes. Ghost would have shrunk back if she had the strength, but she couldn't even bring sound from her throat, but only blink in response.

"You're in pretty bad shape," the tom commented, glancing toward her wounds.

"I think they're already infected," another voice chimed in. It was a younger voice, and the scent of herbs washed over Ghost as she struggled to lift her head.

"Don't move," the tom with the pink nose growled, pushing her head back down roughly with a paw, the cool paw rubbed over her head gently but didn't remove the pressure. "Your wounds are fresh, so for them to already be infected means you haven't rested since you got them. That was a stupid decision."

"Didn't have a choice," Ghost breathed, wishing the cats would go away. They were still too close to the ShadowClan border. Any moment a patrol could be here and then she really would be dead.

"I guess you got a taste of ShadowClan's might, huh? Most Clans scare of rogues with a few scratches to remember them by, but ShadowClan would kill you if they were in the right mood to. You've got some pretty rotten luck," the pink-nosed tom shook his head.

"Snakenose," the younger cat spoke from behind Ghost's head. "What do we do with her?"

"Well," Snakenose sat down, tilting his head to the side as he thought. "We have three options. One, leave her here to die and then deal with a rotting corpse. Two, give her what aid we can right now and haul her off our territory to survive or die out of our sight. Or three, take her back to camp and listen to Dewstar complain that we don't have enough food for ourselves before agreeing begrudgingly."

The younger cat gave a mrrow of laughter, "It's nice to have a sister as the leader, huh."

Snakenose bobbed his head in agreement, "It has its benefits. Now, rogue, which option do you vote for?"

The tom lowered his head to her eye level so that she could see straight into his clear gaze, he bent his ear so that it was close to her mouth and she managed to rasp out a reply. "The first option."

The black-furred tom chuckled as he lifted his head, "Wasn't expecting that one. So, you want us to leave you here to die? Okay, that's your vote, what about you, Marshpelt?"

The younger cat moved next to Snakenose, revealing himself to be larger than Snakenose and his bright yellow eyes were full of a warmth that reminded Ghost of Robin. He fluffed up his dark brown tabby pelt against the cold and lifted a paw, drawing it over his ear slowly. "I'll vote for option two," he decided, turning then to Snakenose.

"I choose option three, and since I'm the senior medicine-cat, my vote counts double."

Ghost growled at the tom's announcement, "If you try to take me to your camp, I'll kill you."

"It would be more frightening from a cat who isn't half dead. Now look here, we aren't trying to capture you or deny you your freedom. But we are both medicine-cats who took an oath to help any sick or injured cat no matter where who they are or where they came from." Snakenose spoke clearly as he leaned down to grab her by the scruff.

He was helped by Marshpelt, and the two toms dragged her over the snow deeper into RiverClan territory, despite her protests. But she was too weary to fight them off and after giving them a few scratches to make her displeasure known, she was hit by another fainting spell, and her consciousness faded into cold and hollow darkness.

…

Ghost was awakened by the sound of arguing. Her eyes stubbornly refused to open, but her ears twitched at the sharp tones of hostility.

"It's the middle of leaf-bare! We can barely feed ourselves, but still, you insist on bringing another mouth into the clan. She's not even a clan cat, you had no obligation to help her!" a female voice rose clear and sharp to her ears.

"I'm obligated by StarClan to help any cat who needs my skill," the brisk reply made her ears twitch, her memory churned up an image of a black tom with clear green eyes and a shockingly pink nose.

"As for food," Snakenose continued, "We've been managing alright—you clearly don't look unfed. And I don't intend to give her much—just enough to recover her strength. She won't be here for more than a few days until her wounds begin to heal and the infection clears up."

The she-cat made an inaudible reply to which Snakenose gave a warm mew of thanks. "But do you have enough herbs to be spending on such bad wounds?" the she-cat sounded doubtful and seemed to be trying one last attempt of persuasion.

"It's been peaceful this leaf-bare, honestly, if we don't use some of these herbs up, they'll end up going to waste anyway," Snakenose sounded confident and the she-cat finally gave an unwilling assent, her vague fishy scent fading away with the sound of her pawsteps.

As the argument ended, a familiar hubbub—like the one in the ShadowClan camp—took over, filling the air with the sound of lots of cats doing lots of different things. "That was impressive," Marshpelt's voice sounded nearby, maybe even from right behind her.

Snakenose gave a heavy sigh, his steps pausing right next to her head, "It was simpler than I expected. Dewstar seems to think that saving a cat ShadowClan tried to kill is some form of victory over them," he muttered darkly, his voice getting closer until she could feel his breath on her ears.

"And how is our violent rogue doing? You've been asleep for three days already."

Ghost felt a burst of shock and lifted her head abruptly, bumping the top of her head against Snakenose's chin. Ignoring his groan of pain, she started to her paws immediately, shock coursing through her.

"Woah! Calm down, it was a joke, it's only morning, you've only slept half the morning away," Marshpelt blocked her with his pelt and waved his tail in a calming manner.

Ghost stared at him, eventually registering what he had said and taking a step back in response. Marshpelt glared at Snakenose who was inspecting his tongue which he must have bitten when she bumped him, "Why do you always have to mess with your patients?"

Snakenose gave her a reproachful look, "When I save a cat's life, the least I can do is have a little fun with them."

"And look, she's reopened her wounds," Marshpelt snapped, shoving her back into her nest.

Ghost looked at her wounds—she'd barely even noticed before. The pain was dull, and she could see that they weren't as swollen as the night before when they'd been burning and festering. They were clean and covered with some sort of herb poultice and bound with cobwebs. Some of the cobwebs had been wrenched away by her sudden movements and now a few drops of blood seeped from the wounds.

"Lay on your side," Snakenose ordered, fresh cobwebs in his paw while Marshpelt was chewing up a few herbs behind him.

Ghost glared at him, annoyed by their behavior. If they'd left her alone, she could have already met up with Stormfang again and then be on her way away from the lake! But now she was on the other side of the lake and would have to return to ShadowClan before she could leave.

Frustration clawed at her, but at Snakenose's prodding, she consented to lay on her side and have her wounds bandaged again. But she breathed heavily through her nose and glared at Snakenose coldly.

"I don't think I've ever had a cat who was mad at me for saving their life,"Snakenose commented, eyes focused on his work as he cleaned her wounds before slathering the new poultice on them and reaffixing the cobwebs to them.

"I told you to leave me out there."

"And I vetoed your vote."

"It's my life, you can't veto my decision."

"You were dying on my territory. If you wanted to die so badly, you should have stayed on ShadowClan's territory."

Ghost closed her eyes, and muttered irritably, "I wasn't going to die."

Snakenose gave a harsh laugh at her words, "Sure, you were half-dead with blood loss and full of infection. I'm sure a few days sleeping in the snow without shelter or food and no one to protect you from hungry foxes or hawks would cure you for sure," the tom nodded his black head three times before focusing again on her wounds.

Ghost was silent, still feeling exhausted and weak. At this point, there was nothing she could do. She would have to sneak back into ShadowClan whether she walked out this moment or waited to get some food in her stomach—so she may as well wait.

"I'm leaving today," she growled stubbornly.

"You'll leave when I say you can," Snakenose retorted. Marshpelt gave her a sympathetic look and shook his head as if telling her there was no point in arguing.

Silence reigned as Snakenose finished treating her wounds and she curled delicately back into a ball, wrapping her tail around her so that the tip twitched in front of her nose. Peering out from behind her tail, she watched Snakenose tidy up the sandy-floored den, sweeping scraps of cobwebs away with his sleek black tail and put the unused herbs back among other herbs that were kept in a series of notches in a rock that formed one wall of the den. To finish, he dropped a few tiny black seeds on a broad oak leaf in front of her nose, motioning her to eat them.

"Marshpelt, Snakenose, come quick!" a voice called from outside the den, and Ghost's ears twitched at the tone of fear that edged the words. The medicine-cats gave each other a look before leaving the den. Snakenose gave her a hard stare as he left as if warning her not to move.

Ghost waited patiently. It was a good chance to escape, but she still hadn't eaten and from the scent, she was right in the middle of a camp. There was no way she could leave unnoticed and she couldn't outrun any cat until she had something to eat.

Anxious murmuring seemed to fill the air, but to her irritation, she couldn't make out what anyone was saying. A vague sense of unease settled over the camp but asides from a few glimpses of passing cats, she had no clue what was happening.

Ghost had been wary of the tiny black seeds Snakenose had given her and had resisted eating them at first. But she remembered seeing Tinyfang eat them before, so she eventually lapped them up. After she did so, a heaviness like a blanket of moss came over her eyes and the dull pain in her shoulders and belly faded as she drifted into the recess of sleep.

…

Scarlet sunlight turned the snow orange as dusk fell over the frozen RiverClan camp. Ghost blinked through her bleary eyes, yawning away the sleepiness that clung to her like a spiderweb.

"You're finally awake." Snakenose was alone with her in the den, and seeing her awake, he dropped a scrawny water vole in front of her face. "Eat that," he mewed quietly.

Ghost's whiskers twitched. From the smell of it, Snakenose hadn't eaten recently, there was no scent of food on his muzzle or any sign he'd recently groomed himself after eating. "I hope this isn't your food," she mewed crossly, how much debt did he want her to owe him?

Snakenose looked at her in exasperation, "For StarClan's sake, just eat. You won't recover your strength simply by sleeping."

Ghost was ready to refuse, but the rumbling in her belly and the weakness in her limbs won her over and she gulped the prey down hungrily. She probably hadn't been so hungry since she was a kit, and the food tasted better than anything she'd eaten in seasons.

After she'd finished eating, she was going to get up in search of some snow or water to drink, but before she could move, Snakenose had put a dripping bundle of moss in front of her. She sniffed it gingerly and began lapping at the moisture, watching the dark-furred medicine-cat suspiciously.

He was moving more stiffly, and there was no amusement in his gaze. Additionally, Marshpelt wasn't here and from the scent, he hadn't been back since he left with Snakenose when they were summoned. Additionally, she could smell the fear scent in the air.

"What happened?" Ghost finally asked, having sated her thirst.

"Oh, there was a little scuffle with ShadowClan this morning. They accused us of sheltering a rogue that killed their deputy and attacked their leader. Described the cat as a pale gray she-cat with gray eyes. Said she acted soft and gentle but was actually deceitful and malicious. They believe she was badly injured."

Ghost tensed, her claws sliding out. Even though the Clans didn't seem to like each other, she had sensed that they would sooner believe another Clan cat than a rogue, even a ShadowClan cat.

"What did you tell them?"

"We denied it, of course. We'd taken in no cat that could be described as soft and gentle by any means. Dewstar demands an apology at once since an apprentice ended up with a twisted paw after ShadowClan crossed out borders and started a heated discussion, but knowing ShadowClan, they won't apologize."

Ghost was silent for a few moments. She couldn't smell any blood, so whatever injuries there had been, they weren't terrible. But she felt awkward that while she had been complaining and growling at her hosts, they had been risking their well-being partially because of her.

Surely Stormfang will apologize when he becomes leader. Then there won't be anymore unnecessary fighting. "Sorry," she muttered the only thing she could think of to say, trying to relieve the twisted knot in her belly. All she wanted was to meet up with Stormfang and then go home to the city, she didn't want to cause anymore trouble.

"Whether or not you were here, ShadowClan still would have stirred up trouble and we would have denied having anything to do with it. Nothing would have changed," Snakenose mewed at last. Then he added in a quieter tone, "But I think it might be best if you leave tonight."

Ghost's belly twisted tighter, snuggling deeper into the warm moss nest, she answered in a whisper, "I know."

….

Unceremoniously, Ghost left once the sun was set. Snakenose and Marshpelt escorted her on either side from the den to the edge of camp where they were joined by a silver brindle, she-cat. "Dewstar," Snakenose mewed ruefully, lowering his gaze as if ashamed and expecting a rebuke.

Ghost raised her head defiantly, knowing she was the source of Snakenose's shame. She met the brilliant blue gaze of the she-cat without flinching, unable to read any expression in the clear gaze. "Rogue, you have been saved through the goodwill of these two medicine-cats. Whatever your reason was for attacking ShadowClan, I ask that you leave the Clans so that the work done by these two cats will not be vain. Additionally, I have a warning. Should you be found again on our territory, we will drive you off or turn you over to ShadowClan, do you understand?"

Ghost nodded silently, her fur prickling uneasily as she sensed a multitude of eyes watching her from the shadows of the camp. The sound of running water filled the air as Dewstar regarded her for a few more moments before flicking her tail dismissively, "Escort her out of our territory."

As they were crossing the stream, carefully placing their paws on the icy surface of the rocks that created a bridge over the water, a large brown cat approached Dewstar. "Do you think it's wise to leave a dangerous rogue with two medicine-cats? She could kill them both." The tom had murmured quietly, but Ghost's ears twitched, having regained their sensitivity as she'd regained her strength.

She met Dewstar's gaze as she paused on the far bank of the stream, now outside the RiverClan camp. The silver she-cat blinked, "I will trust my brother's judgment." And with those final words, Ghost turned away with the medicine-cats and bid farewell to the RiverClan camp.

The journey through RiverClan's unfamiliar territory was unpleasantly silent. Marshpelt didn't speak except to warn her of a dip in the ground or a patch of ice that was hidden by the fresh layer of snow. Snakenose didn't acknowledge her at all and seemed to be brooding, his pale green gaze fixed on his own paws.

Out of habit, Ghost took note of her surroundings. The various trees that could be used as landmarks, the way the ground sloped, places that were covered in shadow or sheltered from the wind. Anywhere that enemies could hide, or which she could use to her advantage she stored in her memory. But her expression changed into a wry look, soon she would leave the clans and never return so it was all futile.

The medicine-cats took her up a slope, on the east side of the lake. It was from here that she had once descended with Stormfang, Blackpoppy, and Tinyfang and had first seen the lake. They crossed the scent boundary and walked together to the top of the hill. When they had reached it, Ghost turned to face the two unwanted rescuers.

"I'm sorry to have caused you trouble, but I did ask you not to help me," she mewed, looking at the somber faces unapologetically. They didn't answer and she felt a twinge of regret, their impulsive kindness had surely saved her from some great illness that may have prevented her from returning home sooner. But they would have no reward, the only thing they had gained was more tense relations with ShadowClan.

"But thank you for helping me," she muttered, bowing her head low in front of them.

"Why did you kill Wolfclaw?" she lifted her head slowly at Snakenose's quiet question. "He was a noble and reasonable warrior, the only cat that kept ShadowClan in check from the inside. Without him, who knows what ShadowClan will do…"

Ghost was silent, growing cold as her gaze drifted up to the sky. Cobalt darkness overwhelmed her, sprinkled with scatterings of starlight. She could still remember Wolfclaw's lifeless body in front of her as snowflakes gently tangled in his cold fur and dissolved in the trail of brilliant blood leaking from his throat.

"I didn't kill him, someone else did," she mewed softly. "I have no proof, but it's the truth." She met the gazes of the medicine-cats again. "Goodbye, hopefully, you'll never see me again," she dipped her head once more and turned away from the Clans, stalking away alone into the darkness, not looking to see how long they looked out after her.

At the top of the slope, she had made her decision. She would not go back to report to Stormfang, she would return to the city at once and find out what had happened. Then, if all was well, she would return to meet Stormstar.

The moonless night stirred in her a hunger for the city, and as thoughts of Robin and Rowan swirled in her mind her paws carried her swifter and swifter over the snow. Her wounds did not bother her, the weariness in her limbs did not bother her. The thumping in her heart drew her on faster and faster until the rosy glow of morning broke over the fields of empty snow and still, she continued on.

...

First off, I want to thank everyone who has supported this story by reading it, you may not leave reviews, but I can see the number of views and it warms my heart that people gave this little story a chance despite long waits between updates, you guys are the best!

Unfortunately, this is as far as Ghost's story will go- this is the last chapter of this story. Although in the original story plan this is only half-way through, it's a good enough stopping point and I don't think I'm capable of finishing it due to more pressing priorities and responsibilities.

Thank you all again for coming this far with me! I wish you all the best!