Lynxheart's heart plummeted; nausea welling in her; but she forced her voice to remain steady. "I will never betray my clan like you have," she hissed. "You may be my mother, Birchshade, but I'm nothing like you."
Something unreadable glinted in the dark she-cat's eyes; and she glanced at Owlstar. The leader dipped her head slightly, and Birchshade drew back her paw. Lynxheart's eyes instinctively closed slightly, waiting for the killing blow, but she forced them open; forced herself to look at her mother. She wouldn't let this be easy for her.
Just before the she-cat brought her paw down, a commotion startled her; and three cats burst into the cavern—Ashwind, and two others, a cream and pink tom, and a ghostly-pale tom. Lynxheart's heart plummeted—Yarrowflight may have stood some small chance against five cats, but not against eight.
"Owlstar, you coward, " Ashwind yowled. "First you pin those attacks on us, and now you intend to murder your way to full control of the clans?" She shook her head in disgust. "I was right to have turned you away from my group all those moons ago, when you were still a loner."
Owlstar sneered. "I'm glad you did," she said. "I would never have been able to get to where I am now had I run with your pitiful posse. Attack them, you fools!" she snapped at the other cats.
Ashwind and the other cats leapt forward, and soon, the cavern was full of yowls and cries and flying fur, droplets of blood splattering on the walls and floor. They managed to subdue two of Owlstar's cats, and the leader snarled, launching herself at Ashwind. Distracted by the fight, Birchshade didn't notice Yarrowflight, who had been released by the cats pining her down, approach from behind until she had been knocked aside with a howl of pain as Yarrowflight raked her claws down the dark she-cat's back.
"Thanks," Lynxheart called, pushing herself to her feet, and, as one, they rushed towards the large she-cat. With Ashwind and her rogues dealing with the other cats, Yarrowflight and Lynxheart were able to concentrate on her mother.
"I should have drowned you like your siblings," Birchshade snarled, raking her claws across Lynxheart's face when she was too slow to dodge. "Damn your father for stopping me—"
Lynxheart ducked back to avoid her teeth, shaking blood from her vision, and hissed, "Shut up, you foxhearted traitor!" She lunged forward, bowling the larger she-cat to the ground, and slammed her head against the protruding rock. The she-cat let out a howl of pain, curling in on herself, a gash from the top of her head to the base of her neck bleeding bright red, pooling out onto the ground. Lynxheart bared her teeth, stepping back. Anger coiled in her, and she wanted to do more—to hurt Birchshade more, to make her suffer.
A tail brushed against her shoulder—Yarrowflight's. "Hey," the other murmured, "calm down, Lynxheart. You're okay."
She took a shuddering breath; glanced away from her mother. The red encroaching her vision receded. "Thanks," she murmured, "I...I needed that."
Ashwind approached her. "We've got them subdued," she said. "Well—Alan and Shatter are dead, but they brought that on themselves when they turned on us. Do you want help escorting the others back to your clan?"
Lynxheart hesitated, and then nodded. "Thank you for your help."
The grey she-cat dipped her head. "The enemy of my enemy, and all that," she said, whiskers twitching. "Morrowseer, Dappleddawn, herd those two outside and wait for us." Then, prodding Birchshade, she said, cheerfully, "Up you get, you piece of badger dung. Your clan's going to have a ball with you, I'm sure."
The three of them managed to get Birchshade to her feet, and escorted her past the bodies of the fallen exiles and out onto the open moor. "How did you find us?" Yarrowflight asked, the question that both of them had been wondering since the rogues entered the cavern.
"We were tracking Alan and Shatter," Ashwind explained. "They're the two dead cats—they tried to kill me some time ago in an attempt to seize leadership, and then fled. I had no idea that they'd decided to join up with some wannabe dictator—talk about two birds with one strike, eh?" She laughed lightly.
They fell into silence once again, marching across the moor. They stopped to rest in the copse of trees that Yarrowflight and Lynxheart had stayed in before, Yarrowflight, Morrowseer, and Dappleddawn remaining to watch over the exiles and Owlstar while Lynxheart and Ashwind hunted.
When they returned, they shared the prey they had caught, and then Lynxheart and Morrowseer took the first shift while the others slept.
The next day, they continued on their way towards camp, arriving as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Most of the cats were already in their dens, but Rainstep and Whiteheart were still in the clearing. When the group of cats entered, they rose to their feet, teeth glinting, eyes narrowed, and ears pricked.
"We need to speak to Smoketalon," Yarrowflight said, stepping forward. "These are our captives."
"That's Owlstar!" Whiteheart protested.
"And also a traitor conspiring to bring the clans under her rule," Ashwind piped up. "Really, you've got to vet your leaders better."
Whiteheart rumbled discontentedly, but turned towards the warriors' den, Rainstep remaining. "Lynxheart," the she-cat said, frowning, "you're injured."
Lynxheart attempted a smile. "I'm fine," she reassured her former mentor. A moment later, Whiteheart stepped out of the den, Smoketalon following after. Lynxheart wondered why the deputy hadn't slept in the leader's den, and then realised that she probably had thought it would offend the Ancestors to do so when Owlstar was still alive.
"Lynxheart, Yarrowflight," the she-cat greeted. "Why have you brought rogues into our camp? And why is Owlstar being held as a captive?"
"We came upon her plotting to kill Troutstar," Lynxheart explained. "She had arranged for a group of exiles she had allied with to kill Servalstar and make it look like Ashwind and her rogues had killed her and taken Owlstar herself captive. Then, when Troutstar died, she planned to swoop in and establish herself as the new leader of all the clans."
Smoketalon's eyes narrowed, and she flicked her ears, gesturing for the cats to step away from the captives. When she caught sight of Birchshade, her eyes widened for a moment, before becoming hard. "Owlstar," she meowed, "What have you to say for yourself?"
"Only that I wish I had killed you as well," the she-cat sneered, making as if to lunge forward before Morrowseer and Dappleddawn stopped her.
Smoketalon nodded. "I see," she said, heavily. "By the powers vested in me by the Ancestors, I now strip you of your title, and sentence you and your allies to execution, so you may not be able to try and attempt something like this again. Owlleap, Birchshade, Dappledpelt, the Ancestors spit upon you. Take them to the dirtplace—I'll deal with them tomorrow. Whiteheart, you and Rainstep will guard them until then."
The warriors nodded, and escorted the rogues and the prisoners towards the dirtplace. Smoketalon turned to Lynxheart, Yarrowflight, and Ashwind. "Thank you for revealing her treachery," she said. "And Ashwind—thank you for aiding my warriors. You will have safe passage through our territory."
When she finished speaking, she turned, clearly dismissing them, and made her way towards the leader's den. "We should get you to Bird," Yarrowflight said. "We don't want your wounds to get infected."
"You have just as many as I do," Lynxheart protested, pressing against the yellow she-cat gently.
Yarrowflight let out a sigh. "I hate seeing the healer," she grumbled, but allowed Lynxheart to steer her towards Bird's den.
After the healer tended to their wounds, applying poultices and cobwebs, he sent them off to sleep with stern instructions not to do anything to aggravate their wounds.
The next morning, they woke early, before the sun. The rest of the clan was already in the main clearing, milling about, murmuring curiously amongst themselves. A moment later, Smoketalon stepped out from the leader's den. "You may be wondering why I have asked you all to be awake this early," she meowed, her voice ringing out in the early morning air. "I am saddened to announce that our former leader, Owlstar, was conspiring with a group of exiles to take over the clans."
The murmuring loudened; a cat calling out, "What will happen to her?"
"She has been stripped of her title," Smoketalon replied, "and will, along with the exiles, be executed. Whiteheart, Rainstep, please bring out the prisoners."
The two warriors emerged into the clearing a moment later with the captives, and Smoketalon made her way to the camp entrance, leading them and the other members of the clan outside. They made their way to the rushing river that bordered the edge of Birdclan territory, and Smoketalon nodded to Whiteheart and Rainstep, who escorted the captives to the edge of the ground.
"Dappledpelt, Birchshade...Owlleap," Smoketalon said, somberly, "you have betrayed your clans in the worst way possible, and for this, the Ancestors spit on you. May your bodies be carried by the water far away from our territories, and your souls be judged by the Ancestors." So saying, in one strike, she sliced the captives' throats. For a moment, they stood there, uncomprehending, and then first Owlleap, then Dappledpelt, and then, finally, Birchshade fell backwards, the water seeming to reach up and capture them, rushing them away.
The clan stood in silence for a moment, watching the bodies retreat into the distance; and then Smoketalon meowed, "Everyone has the rest of the day to rest and recover from this news. Rainstep, I am appointing you the new deputy, and you will be in charge while Bird and I make our way to the Hidden Tree to greet the Ancestors and anoint myself as the new leader of Birdclan."
The cats nodded, and turned back towards camp. Lynxheart felt strangely empty—she should have felt relieved, she knew, or even sad, at her traitorous mother's death, but she merely felt hollow.
Yarrowflight brushed against her. "Hey," she said, "are you alright?"
"I...I don't know," Lynxheart admitted.
"That's alright," Yarrowflight said, and licked her cheek comfortingly. "Come on—we should get some more sleep. We're both exhausted from the last few days."
"Alright," Lynxheart said; and found the hollowness had been replaced by warmth and affection for Yarrowflight—no, love. When she glanced into the she-cat's eyes, she found the same emotion shining within them; and she pressed herself against the other's side, the two of them following after the rest of the clan.