He led them through the tunnels with practiced ease, Hickory, Whistle, and the now mostly healed Hilton moving quickly behind him. She padded alongside Hilton's side, trusting his pelt against hers in the absolute darkness. Their uneasy truce had continued over the last half moon as Jerah helped prepare the fighters for what he intended to do to JayClan. The fighters had healed, anxious to take revenge against the Clans for the four that they had killed.
Jerah had called several meetings, preaching about the death of the forest-dwellers, calling them to fight, fueling their hatred. They were traitors, monsters, killers.
"Look at what they did to Leera!" He'd snarled once. She had been staring at the faint patches of fading cooper on the ground, the places where she had taken lives. She had raised her eyes and found Dusky's mate staring at her, glaring at her. "They claimed to take her as their own and then cast her out! Spat at her. Threw her in the dirt! They claim to be pure! But look at them, filthy liars!" She'd flattened her ears. Oakstar had taken her in. He'd saved her. He'd fought for her. He'd fought for her Clan. Russet Oakstar. His russet coat. Red. Red. Red. Like blood. Like the color of the sun off the river. Like like. She had been Tyre's daughter. The cat to revel in the bloodshed. She held the she-cat's glare throughout the rest of the meeting.
The group had been easy to sway after that. They'd agreed to follow him through the tunnels.
Now they padded at a brisk pace, their many even breaths behind her becoming so loud she wanted to scream. She hadn't slept properly under Silverpelt since Jerah had left and then returned. She hadn't seen proper green since she left the forest over a moon ago. The smell of dirt was almost overwhelming.
"You can't get cold paws now, Leera," Hilton whispered to her. She bumped her shoulder with his in the darkness. "This is your time to kill that Oakstar. The tom with the nine lives," he scoffed.
"What if he really does have nine lives? And once he comes back, he kills me?" She asked, half joking. She wasn't sure how much she believed in the nine lives. She'd never seen Twigstar lose a life and Oakstar had been a brand-new leader when she left.
"We'll have your back," he answered seriously. "You're a part of us now. You've earned it." Her chest tightened and it became hard to breathe.
"Thank you," she murmured to him. She couldn't see his reaction in the darkness, but his tail flicked against her flank in response. And then suddenly, a form shoved them apart and she scented Jerah between them.
"Run along, Hilton, Whistle is leading, catch up with him," Jerah commanded easily. The other tom made a noise of agreement and his presence near her vanished and she was left with Jerah next to her and dozens of cats behind her.
"Excited to finally take revenge on that stupid tom, to sink your claws into Oakstar and that pathetic Clan?" he asked breathlessly, too close to her for her comfort. She made a noise of confirmation. There was not enough space in this tunnel for her to get away from him. "We're almost there, Leera, can you smell it? Can you smell the forest? It's so clean," he whispered to her, his nose brushing her ear. "I can't wait to ruin it."
She inhaled deeply, and images slammed into her. The camp a wasteland of blood and fur and death. The medicine cat, her medicine cat, laying in front of the mouth of the nursery, her lifeless body the only representation of her attempt to protect the unprotected. Warriors, her Clanmates, scattered around. Other scents. Sharp, sweet. Other Clans. They were there, fighting, fighting. Her teeth in the neck of russet tom, turning deeply red, violently red, red, red, red, red—
She choked on a cry of opposition, almost stumbling in the dark. Jerah steadied her and she realized she could see his eyes faintly.
"Are you ready? Once we exit the tunnel, we will be running straight to your precious camp." His amber eyes searched hers, and she forced down the rush of emotions that threatened to choke her. She had sacrificed so much of herself for JayClan. She'd killed not one, but two cats for Jerah. She'd installed herself as valuable. She had made Jerah's group fear her. She had been the entire reason for the attacks in the first place. She was only doing what Oakstar had asked. This is what she was born to do. She was supposed to be this cat, to do this. She was Tyre's daughter. She was unstoppable.
"I'm ready," she returned, just as they burst out of the tunnel into the darkness of the night. Silverpelt glittered above and the forest glowed silver. Whistle's cry of battle echoed through the tunnel, and she felt it escaping through her mouth as well and the group charged forward. The forest quaked under their might. She inhaled the scents of the forest. Home. This was home. Simple as that. She'd been raised here. She'd learned kindness, softness, mercy, here.
Hickory's snarl erupted and he took longer strides, leaping forward and the sounds of a hissing and terror erupted. A patrol, possibly. Oakstar was stupid to still be sending them out. She joined Hickory through the bushes and tackled a small gray bundle of hissing fur and they flew through the forest, tumbling and colliding with the trunk of a tree. She'd hunted in this tree before, she thought vaguely as she got to her paws to turn to look at the gray cat. Rainkit. Rainpaw. This was training.
"Rainkit—"
"Falcondust!" The little she-cat cried out in disbelief. "What are you—"
"Go. Now, run. Warn Oakstar," she hissed. The apprentice stared at her for half a heartbeat and then just as Jerah and Hilton burst through the bushes, searching for her, she sprinted away.
"Are you okay?" Jerah demanded, searching her for injuries.
"I'm fine," she snarled at him. "We need to go. The little one got away."
"Hickory and some other fighters killed the two warriors that were with her. We need to get her before she gets back to warn them—" Her heart shattered. No. Those two warriors. Her Clanmates. Her Clan was going to die tonight.
"There's no point. Let's go, now!" She shook her head, and then sprinted in the direction of Rainpaw, trusting her paws to follow the paths back to her home. She knew this territory. She'd missed it. She'd lost herself. She'd given so much away. So much of herself was drowning in red. Jerah was on her heels. The mass of Jerah's group rallied behind her. She could smell it now. JayClan. Home. Family. And then they were met, a tree length from the entrance, by warriors of all scents and colors and ferocity. The other Clans. They had come to Oakstar's aid. They had come to JayClan's aid.
She'd never been more grateful to see them than in this moment right now.
A battle cry rose up from the wall of warriors, and then the forest erupted into snarling and hissing. She slammed into a warrior and they went tumbling through the forest. She fought hard, but kept her ferocity to a minimum, only when she needed to did she use her claws. Oakstar. Where was Oakstar. Where was Jerah. Where was Hilton—
The fighting and the sounds became a blur. It wasn't hard to fall into a rhythm. She avoided her Clanmates, looking for her leader. She needed to find him. Jerah's group was slowly advancing to the camp. She landed beside Hilton in a lull in the fighting as they both panted. He was bleeding from where she'd bitten him moons ago, but he seemed fine.
"I thought the Clan wasn't that big," he grunted, rolling his shoulder.
"They must've gotten the other Clans to protect them. I didn't think they would. I… I had no idea—" She was tackled off her paws and rolled, swatting and hissing at the warrior who attacked her. She landed on top of the warrior and glared down at him. Her Clanmate.
"Sandheart, stop!" She whisper-hissed at him.
"Falcondust?" He stared up at her incredulously. "Oakstar said you were dead. You didn't come back—"
"Where is he? Where is Oakstar?" She demanded, ignoring the sting. Her Clanmates thought she was dead.
"He's with the last line of defense in camp. There's no one in it, but we didn't want the rogues to take over—"
"Kill whatever rogue you can, Sandheart—"
"Traitor!" A cat snarled. She stiffened. She had never heard the she-cat speak before, but she would recognize that hatred anywhere. Dusky's mate. She turned to face the rival she-cat. Sandheart slid out from underneath her and turned to face her, too.
"We can take her together, Falcondust," he growled, determined.
"You killed my mate. You left my kits fatherless. You are a monster," the she-cat spat. "And I will kill you—" Sandheart let out a snarl and leapt at the she-cat. Falcondust leaped after him, but the other she-cat was quick. She side-stepped and raked her claws down Sandheart's throat. The young tom landed with a gurgle, blood trickling out of his mouth. She slammed into the she-cat just as she turned to look at her.
The two she-cats snarled and fought, claws tearing through each other's pelts. Sandheart had been a good warrior, brave, loyal. He'd been her friend. He had been her family. She opened the way for her rage to pour out and she snarled words she wasn't sure she understood. Pure hatred and anger. They had made her this way. She had been forced to kill. They had forced her to sacrifice everything. She had given up everything. She was not this cat. She wasn't a killer. She was not Tyre's daughter. She choked on a sob.
She only realized she was ripping the other-she cat to shreds when she whimpered. Falcondust stumbled back. She was soaked. She was covered in it. Dusky's mate did not move. She inhaled sharply and turned away. She could not see the red. It was too dark. But she knew that it was red. Just like Dusky had been. She choked on her anger and swallowed it down. She would not let it consume her. She turned on the mess she had made and padded through the carnage to the faint snarling that was coming from camp. She felt the carnage from the battle ooze between her paws and she didn't stop. This is what they had made of her. Dusky. His mate. Gentry. Hilton. Hickory. Jerah. Oakstar. She slipped through the entrance just as the fighting died down. In the center of camp, Oakstar and the two other leaders sat in between Jerah and Hilton. Hickory and Whistle's bodies were laid near the medicine den. Injured fighters limped in from various tears in the camp walls. There were still faint sounds of fighting from outside, but overall, everything was silent. The sky was turning pale, transitioning from night to day. There was so much red. Red everywhere.
"I thought we had lost you, Leera," Jerah let out a breath of relief as she paused in front of the leaders. Darkstar and Graystar were not looking at her. They knew her. They believed this a betrayal. She had allowed the rogues to come here. Oakstar was staring at her as if she were gifted by StarClan.
"I'm fine," she said easily. "How many loses did we take?"
"Hickory and Whistle, and dozens more. But the Clans lost just as much," Hilton spat at the leaders' feet. Darkstar glared at him.
"You're all terrible, horrible cats—"
"Shut up!" Jerah snarled and slashed at him, opening a large wound in his cheek. Darkstar hissed but did not cry out. Jerah turned his amber eyes to her.
"I saved him for you, Leera," he said with excitement. "I saved Oakstar for you. Take his life. Like you want to. Kill him. Take your revenge," he encouraged, joining her side. He nudged her to look at Oakstar, who she had refused to look at until now. He was russet. The color of defiance and righteousness. Her leader. His green eyes flickered. He trusted her.
"What about the other two?" She asked. "Graystar? Darkstar? What are you going to do with them?"
"I'll execute them in their own camps. Make their kits watch," Jerah said easily. "They defied me. I will kill them later." She nodded even though she never took her eyes off of Oakstar. Her friend. "Kill him," he meowed, starting to sound impatient.
She padded forward. She watched the other two leaders twitch their ears. They were signaling. Some warriors were still alive. They were victorious. All they had to do was wait.
"You betrayed me," she told him. He flattened his ears. She prayed he understood. "You brought me in, trained me, and then you told me you loved me," she choked her as his eyes widened. "And then you turned my Clan against me. I'm going to kill you, and I hope, when you meet whoever is waiting for you, you know what to do," she finished softly.
"Do what you need to do," he whispered. She let out a broken snarl as she lunged forward, sinking her teeth into his neck. His blood flooded her mouth. He tasted warm, like life, like confidence, like trust. She ripped her head back, and Oakstar fell to the ground, choking before he stilled. She turned to Jerah and Hilton.
"How do you feel?" Jerah said breathlessly as he pressed his nose to her cheek. She closed her eyes. She did not know if StarClan would send Oakstar back, or if she had miscalculated and now she would have to kill Jerah and then die herself. She hoped the nine lives were real.
"Free," she admitted falsely. He purred as he brushed his cheek against hers. She would die for her Clan. She had sacrificed too much to let it all go to waste.
"That's go—" her teeth met his neck, and she did not let go. He choked out in alarm and he started clawing at her, his claws deepening existing wounds. She did not let go. She would die. She would gladly go for her Clan, to make up for all the death. And then Jerah jerked backwards as another set of teeth met the back of his neck. Then he stepped moving altogether. She released him, stumbling and collapsing to the ground. Red. All she could see was red. Then it started to glow as the sun rose behind it. Then the form took shape. It was Oakstar. Her leader and friend. StarClan had brought him back. The nine lives were real.
"Oakstar," she whispered. The sounds of disbelief and fighting were dull in the background as he crouched down to touch his nose to her forehead.
"Falcondust, you did it, you ended them. It's over," he returned softly. "The leader is dead. Their group is shambles. You did it."
"Jerah—"
"Dead. You're safe. We will get Sagesong here and she will heal you—"
"I just want to rest," she murmured, closing her eyes. "I don't want to be Tyre's daughter anymore."
"Rest then," Oakstar said gently. "You're home."
She closed her eyes, drifting off to the darkness that called her. Red was Oakstar. Red was home. She was home.
She woke up sometime later, not thoroughly convinced she wasn't walking among StarClan. She could see the greenery of ferns at the entrance of the den she was in. It wasn't the medicine den. She couldn't smell the herbs. It wasn't the warrior's den. It was JayClan, though. She knew that well enough. She could smell Oakstar. She inhaled deeply. Oakstar. His den. She got to her paws unsteadily and padded through the ferns. Warriors laid around in different groups, wrapped in cobwebs. There were at least a dozen cats being guarded, but they looked defeated. Hilton sat among them.
She scanned the camp. Sagesong and the other medicine cats weaved in and out of the injured warriors, checking up and verifying their status. A fairly uninjured patrol padded back in with prey.
Oakstar, Darkstar and Graystar sat not that far from the entrance to the den, talking softly.
"We should kill them," Darkstar growled. "They were going to kill all of us, they murdered our apprentices. They deserve the fate they will meet."
"They bothered us for seasons," Oakstar countered, "but the Warrior Code says we should not take a life. I agree—"
"Says the tom who sent one of his own warriors to infiltrate them. How do you know she won't turn on you?" Graystar countered, her blue eyes cold. "She took one of your lives."
"And then immediately killed the leader," Oakstar returned coolly. "I trust her with all of my lives, Graystar."
"So what do we do with the cats we have left?" Graystar asked. "Should we just let them go? So they can return back later—"
"Let them go," she cut in, wincing as she padded towards them. The three leaders snapped their attention to her.
"Why?" Darkstar snarled. "They will just come back—"
"They won't," she murmured with a wince as she sat down next to Oakstar, "Jerah was their last source of strength. His inner circle is dead, except for Hilton, who lost every cat he loved today. He will not be coming back."
"How do you know that?" Graystar inquired. "Unless you're so familiar with them—"
"I was a part of his inner circle. Jerah trusted me. Hilton trusted me. A betrayal as large as mine will shatter their confidence. They won't ever be able to trust each other again," she whispered.
"You really think you're so valuable—"
"I do," she snapped at Darkstar who recoiled. "I made many, many decisions that I am ashamed of, Darkstar, there is blood on my paws. All those decisions led me to get his trust so I could stop his reign of terror. I… I am tainted. Let them go home," she sighed, closing her eyes. "Let the killing stop."
The two leaders shared a look, and then padded away. Oakstar pressed his flank against hers and they sat in silence, overlooking the Clan.
That evening, she was a part of the patrol that led Hilton and the remaining survivors to the entrance of the cave.
Hilton paused, turning to her, just before padding in.
"Was it worth it?" He asked gently, resigned.
"Was what worth it?"
"All the killing. Dusky. Gentry. Jerah. All that blood. Was it worth it? Will you sleep better knowing you betrayed your friends—"
"You were killing my Clan," she cut in with a shake of her head. Hilton shrugged.
"We were following orders, Lee—Falcondust. We did what we were told—"
"Not all of you, Hilton," she growled. "Most of the group wanted take over the territory—"
"Because they believed it would be beneficial for us. But we could never live here," he glanced around the forest, sighing. "It was all fake. All of this," he gestured with his tail to the scars and the blood and the cobwebs, "all of this was for you." She flattened her ears and looked away. She wanted to scream that it wasn't her fault. None of it was. She had just accidentally survived and it had ended in bloodshed.
"Will you be coming back?" she asked quietly instead.
"No," he shook his head. "Be well, Falcondust. I hope you can live with yourself." With that, he turned and padded away, tail dragging in the dirt.
Over the course of the next moon, the Clans healed. Each had lost several warriors, and they were much smaller than they had been before, but they lived in peace. The rogues did not come back. She did not become deputy. Instead, Falcondust had decided to live quietly. She had nightmares, often, but she trudged through the days. Her friendship with Oakstar stayed quiet and reserved, often spent laying in the sun in silence. She was tired. She was not the same.
But she had overcome the darkness. She had been tested, and she had succeeded. She did not know yet whether she would be accepted in StarClan for all the death, but she made peace with the unknown. She may have been Tyre's daughter, but she was a JayClan warrior. And this was her home.