TIME was the eternal enemy. It rolled forward mercilessly while Sedgestrike remained powerless to stop it. The times that have passed cannot not be changed, the times to come cannot be foreseen. So, Sedgestrike was left to bide, collecting time ravenously until the day she longed for arrived: the day of her departure. The worst part? She didn't even know what day that was. Only last night she found out she would need to leave. Now, she was strapped with the nauseating burden of the unknown. When would she leave? Would her siblings come with her? Would the Fallen accept them? Would the escape be successful? A mountain of uncertainties rode on her back. Her spine felt like a branch being sat on by a boulder.

The weight of it all would be more tolerable if the rest of MarshClan was just as troubled. Then, maybe, she could gripe to her comrades and have someone to wallow in misery with. Instead, she watched them go about their day unbothered. Spiderfang was organizing another hunting party. Lilypaw seemed especially excited, having grown long and limber, she excelled at bringing back large bounties of fresh-kill. She could've brought back an entire deer and Mothfur would still have the same flat expression he always had, and currently had as he stood beside her. Otternose, however, seemed less than enthralled about going hunting with such an enthusiastic apprentice so early in the morning. Shaleheart seemed to find her irritation amusing.

Sedgestrike felt her heart pang as she watched her father prepare to leave for the hunt. His mottled brown fur looked a lot like sleek but tarnished gold in the sunlight, and his golden eyes shone bright. He didn't even meet Sedgestrike's gaze as they passed by her, leaving in a troop, and Sedgestrike felt the pang swelter into a stabbing feeling. As far as he knew, she didn't mate with Blueflower, so why was he still treating her like she didn't exist?

Sedgestrike swiped at the grass as she continued to rest in the shade. As promised, she was given the day off for "volunteering" to be sentinel yesterday. If there was ever a day she wished for her mind to be occupied, it was today. Being blessed with such generous free time felt more like a punishment.

Ospreyflight's oaky, earthy scent neared her, and Sedgestrike saw her friend emerging from the sawgrass, returning from the dawn patrol with Fogspots and Hollyfoot.

Meeting her stare, Ospreyflight smiled and trotted up to Sedgestrike. Her yellow eyes glowed. "Hey," she greeted, before hesitating. "How—uh—how are—uhm, things?"

Sedgestrike narrowed her eyes, confused. "They're fine." Then she realized that Ospreyflight had to have heard she didn't become mates with Blueflower. "All things considered…" she added mildly.

Ospreyflight lowered her gaze, looking sheepish. "I'm… sorry it didn't go as planned."

It felt bad to lie to her best friend, but Sedgestrike had no choice. The less she knew, the better. "It happens." She shrugged, wanting to change the subject. "How was the patrol? I heard you led it."

Ospreyflight sighed breezily and sat beside her, relaxing after the change of subject. "Not too bad. We thought we caught a scent trail of one of the Fallen, but it died along the river bank." She began to groom her shoulder, speaking nonchalantly between licks. "And Hollyfoot kept falling behind. She still hasn't adjusted to normal warrior duties since leaving the nursery."

"Well, she could always go back. I'm sure Claytooth would be thrilled to keep his pride going," Sedgestrike pointed out sarcastically.

Ospreyflight laughed. "Great StarClan, I don't think I can have more of his mini-mes running around."

Sedgestrike rolled her eyes. "Foxpaw isn't that bad! He was a sweet kit."

"Was… You should've seen him while you all were gone for the festival. He was ordering Hawthornkit and Magnoliakit around like a bonafide leader!" Ospreyflight exclaimed, exasperated.

"They start so young. Just wait,soon he'll be a great warrior, just like his father," Sedgestrike mused whimsically before gagging at the thought. Her and Ospreyflight both started laughing together. Sedgestrike didn't remember the last time she laughed like this with her friend. It felt good. Normal. She needed normal.

Ospreyflight noticed Sedgestrike's laughter peter out. Her brows furrowed with concern. "I'm sure there's a lot on your mind. Do… you want to talk about it?" Her offer was polite, but Sedgestrike noticed the strain in her voice; she knew her friend struggled to talk about feelings. She would rather talk about the best hunting strategy or the latest political stunt from Whitestar.

Regardless, she knew she could never tell Ospreyflight anything. Soon, she would never be able to talk to Ospreyflight again. Her heart fell out of her chest. "Don't… don't worry about it. I'm fine, really." Her lie was coated with pain, delivering it was just as taxing as thinking it.

"Sedgestrike…"

She felt her chest caving in. "Ospreyflight, I promise. I'm okay." She smiled weakly, and her friend's eyes flashed with hurt. She knew that although her friend wasn't good about discussing emotions, it still wounded her to not be able to help. "You're too good to me," Sedgestrike muttered. "I'm very lucky to have a friend like you."

"You're saying that like having a friend like you makes me unlucky," Ospreyflight pointed out critically. "You're an awesome cat, Sedgestrike."

"I know you're going to do great things. You're smart and patient and methodical. You can think on your toes. You can reign yourself in." Sedgestrike reeled off her praise breathlessly like she was running out of time to say it, and she was. She didn't know when or if she'd get the chance to say these things again. "You're going to succeed. You're going to win against whatever it is you're trying to overcome."

Ospreyflight was speechless, staring at Sedgestrike with wide eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it, turning her head to the clearing where MarshClan cats went about their day peacefully. "Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?" she said at last.

Sedgestrike also turned to watch the cats go about their day. They were just pieces now, particles in the atmosphere moving in and out of her vision aimlessly and purposefully all at once. "I don't know," she murmured, in a daze. "I'm going through a lot. It makes me say weird things. There's just too much to explain, so much that I don't even know how to begin or put it into words."

"Then… just—just, like, I don't know… Start small? Maybe give a sentence or two?" Ospreyflight pleaded, stumbling in her attempt to get something out of her. "Something. Anything."

"I can't." Sedgestrike stood, seeing Fernstream leave the medicine den of marigold. Her mother had to have spoken to Redleaf.

"Where are you going?" Ospreyflight asked. "You haven't even touched your sparrow."

"You can have it," Sedgestrike mewed absently. She had forgotten she even plucked the bird from the fresh-kill pile. "I… need to speak to Fernstream."

"Wait!" Ospreyflight called out, reaching for Sedgestrike. "Just…"

Sedgestrike turned to her, finding her with wide, scared eyes and a face stretched stressfully.

"Just tell me you'll be okay!" she demanded.

Sedgestrike smiled apologetically. "I already have."

Without allowing Ospreyflight to continue, she dashed off to see Fernstream. Her mother was taking to the shade near the elders den, and Sedgestrike could hear her labored breathing. Redleaf must have told her everything.

"Fernstream," Sedgestrike mewed.

Her mother turned, green eyes glistening. "Oh, Sedgestrike!" She gasped, embracing her. Sedgestrike breathed in her scent, pressing her face into her shoulder. "Redleaf told me, he told me what happened, I—" She shook her head, having lost her ability to speak. Broken, sobbing noises came from her, soft enough not to be heard by the cats still in camp.

"Fernstream," Sedgestrike whispered. "Mom… It's going to be okay. Redleaf said—"

"I know what he said," she snapped, voice thick with emotion. "That doesn't make it okay. You shouldn't have to do this. It's all my fault. I was so selfish. I should've left with you three a long time ago."

"Mom," Sedgestrike whimpered. Seeing Fernstream in such a fragile state was rare. In fact, she never had seen her mother look so broken. She was shaking in her fur. Her green eyes glittered with sadness. She couldn't articulate without her voice breaking. "What matters is that we will be safe over there. Whitestar won't be able to touch us."

"You're right," Fernstream relented. "You're right." Her composure slowly returned. She was no longer shaking and her eyes became clear. She returned to the fierce she-cat Sedgestrike knew, one that would do anything for her kits. "It has to be this way. It must."

"I'm going to miss you," Sedgestrike whispered. This time, her voice broke with emotion.

Fernstream gave her a hard stare. "There's nothing to miss," she corrected firmly. "I'm going with you three."

Sedgestrike's eyes widened. "You're what?"

Her mother lifted her chin defiantly. "I'm coming with you three," she reiterated. "I'll be with you. I'll always be with you. No one and nothing will take that from me."

At first, Sedgestrike was thrilled. One less cat to say goodbye to, but then she felt fear. Escaping MarshClan was risky. They could easily be caught and brought in for interrogation. A whole family trying to leave MarshClan was suspicious enough to cause alarm and, consequently, punishment.

"But what about Shaleheart?" Sedgestrike realized. "Is he coming?"

Fernstream's expression fell again. Her eyes regained their sorrowful gleam. "We can't risk it. There's a chance he wouldn't understand." She looked up at Sedgestrike, and the pain in her mother's eyes seared her. "I love him, but I love you three more than anything. I will always choose my kits. One day, Shaleheart will know the truth and be able to make of it what he can. Today is not that day."

"I promise, I'll find a way to change things," Sedgestrike vowed softly. "We will be able to come home again."

Fernstream smiled. "I believe in you, Sedgestrike."

Sedgestrike returned the smile. "I know you do."

"We need to find your siblings," Fernstream mewed urgently. "Are they still in camp?"

"I believe so, why?" Sedgestrike replied, confused by the sudden urgency.

"Because Redleaf said we are leaving tonight."

"What?!" Sedgestrike froze when her outburst caught the attention of the queens sunbathing outside the nursery. She lowered her voice immediately, leaning in to whisper, "He made arrangements for tonight?"

"Yes," Fernstream hissed. "Once he realized I refused to let you three leave without me, he decided the sooner the better, to avoid the risk."

Sedgestrike nodded, melting from her initial shock. It made sense. Again, time was the enemy. "Okay…"

"Go to Redleaf, he'll tell you where to meet us. I'm going to get Yewbranch and Mudpaw."

Sedgestrike nodded, hurrying to the medicine den. She hesitated at its entrance, smacked by the potent aroma of marigold. The inky shadows within were alive, shuddering. The last time she was in the medicine den alone with Redleaf, he attempted to poison her. She had to remind herself they were on the same side; back then, he saw her as nothing more than a prophesied rebel. Things were different now.

"Redleaf, it's Sedgestrike," she announced, stepping into the den. The silence within swallowed her. Speaking felt inappropriate in a space so quiet. "Fernstream told me to come to you."

"Oh, did she?"

The voice was not Redleaf's. Emerging from the coolest, darkest depths of the den, where the rich-smelling herbs were stored, was the slinky, blue-gray frame of Heronpaw. His icy blue eyes glinted with suspicion. "What are you doing in here?"

Sedgestrike faced the apprentice with a hardened glare. "I'm here to see Redleaf," she repeated firmly. This was bad. Where was Redleaf?

Heronpaw narrowed his eyes. "For what? He's busy."

Refusing to budge under his scrutiny, Sedgestrike rose her chin. "This is a private family matter," she affirmed. "Between him and I."

"Fill me in then," Heronpaw countered, huffing. The slightest twitch in his eyes betrayed his frustration. "He probably won't be back for awhile."

"And where did he go?"

Heronpaw shrugged, rolling his eyes. "He went out."

"Heronpaw, this is serious," Sedgestrike growled. "It's… my mother. She's sick."

Heronpaw's large ears pricked. His icy blue eyes burned with curiosity. "Sick?" His nostrils flared as he spoke. "I smell no sickness in her. She was just in here. Her scent is normal."

"It's… something else," Sedgestrike feigned worry. "Redleaf said he knew of the illness, mentioned it being something archaic."

"Hmm, an older disease. Something we probably haven't seen in awhile," Heronpaw thought aloud. The words slithered off his tongue with enthusiasm. "I wonder what it could be? Is there a cure? They were muttering about something before… I wish I knew then it was about an illness."

Sedgestrike fidgeted from where she stood, growing impatient. "This is urgent, Heronpaw," she reminded him. "Please. Where did he go?"

Heronpaw sighed, rolling his eyes. Sedgestrike hid her smirk; it seemed her desperation appealed to him. "He went out to the Great Cypress. Mentioned something about gathering herbs."

"Excellent," Sedgestrike hissed. "Thank you!" She hurried out of the den with a smile. As she left, she felt Heronpaw's eyes bore into her until she was out of sight.

Briskly, she trotted for the wall of sawgrass. Her stomach flopped when she saw the guards on duty: Grayjaw and Claytooth. The two burly tomcats were sitting studiously, watching over the camp like solemn statues. Sedgestrike slowed her pace, trying to look casual.

"Where are you off to?" Grayjaw grunted, eyeing her curiously.

"It's my day off… thought I'd go stretch my legs." Sedgestrike shrugged, trying to sound bored though it felt like she had ants in her pelt. When Grayjaw didn't take his eyes off of her, she felt a prick of annoyance. "Got a problem with that?"

"N-no! Not at all!" he blustered, averting his eyes. He sounded embarrassed, and he kept his protruding chin tucked in a vain attempt to hide it.

"Don't let her get to you, Grayjaw," Claytooth snorted. "She's still a warrior like the rest of us." His eyes fell on Sedgestrike, glinting in amusement. "He'll get over it. It won't be long before he remembers how to act," he assured her.

At first, Sedgestrike gawked at Claytooth cluelessly. "O-oh, this is about… Wow." She turned back to Grayjaw, shaking her head. "He's right. I'm perfectly normal. Painfully normal," she agreed. Yes, normal. Once I'm out of here I can get back to being normal again.

"B-but the prophe—"

"Shut up, you mousebrain! That's only for us to know," Claytooth snapped, eyes narrowed to slits. He turned to Sedgestrike, fixing his curled lip and giving her a benign nod. "Go ahead. Don't mind him."

Sedgestrike returned the nod, hurrying into the brush. The faintly sweet smell of cane caught her nose, smothering her with its sugary scent, and the fanged stalks of sawgrass greeted her by combing through her thick pelt. As she pushed through the rows, her paws felt mud squish between her toes. She was staring out at the open marsh now. It was freckled with swaying reeds and floating lily pads, their clusters having grown thick after the plentiful rains. Dragonflies glided through the air glinting with scales of gold and red and green and blue.

Ushered forward by a warm breeze from behind, she crossed the marsh hastily. She knew sentinels would be scattered throughout the territory and that it would be best to avoid them. She was already doing a rotten job. As she splashed through the shallow waters, she caught the attention of Sandthroat.

The warrior was wrestling with a tangle of eelgrass. The long algae stuck to his leg like a spongy green leech. He was in the middle of cursing at it when Sedgestrike came across him.

"Oh, Sedgestrike! Uh… how's it?" Sandthroat greeted, smiling sheepishly. He flailed his ensnared arm in-between words.

"Uh… just out for a stroll," she explained, wrestling with a pesky leech of her own: her nerves.

"Aye. Restlessness must run in the family. Your—uh—kin just passed by," he said, shaking his leg violently. The eelgrass swirled up his limb higher the more he struggled. His attempt at ridding of it was just as sloppy as her and her family's coordinated escape attempt. Was she going to be stopped by every cat in MarshClan before she got to their meeting point?

"Here," Sedgestrike offered, pushing away her annoyance. She leaned forward to tug at the algae with her outstretched claws. "Let me."

She pulled Sandthroat free and he sighed with relief. "Aahhhh… that's good, that's good. Much obliged, Sedgestrike." He gave her an amicable nod, smiling. "I'll get back to work, then."

"Try not to get attacked by any more eelgrass!" she called after him as he left. Once his pale ginger fur disappeared into the reeds, Sedgestrike hurried to the palmettos.

The fanned fronds of the palmetto bushes smacked against Sedgestrike's shoulders as she bustled through. The sentinel in this part of the territory was Littlebrook; she could smell the dappled she-cat's rosy scent and was assured that she could pass through without having to worry about attracting too much attention. Littlebrook was likely in on the escape plan, since she was a member of Risen. Haphazardly, Sedgestrike crashed through the brush and into the pine forest.

Her pelt bristled. Zinniablossom was patrolling here. Sedgestrike caught her scent in the air, nearly hidden within the thick aroma of pine. She strained her ears, having them swivel, wanting to hear where she may be. When nothing was heard, she spat a faint curse under her breath and snuck on. Her large paws stamped the cushy ground of pine needles, graciously muting the sound of her walking; Zinniablossom was likely just as streathly elsewhere.

Hopping into a scrawny berry bush, Sedgestrike froze when she heard Zinniablossom growl. "What are you doing?"

Sedgestrike froze, groaning inwardly. She turned, mouth open, ready to speak, but found Zinniablossom was snapping at someone else: Lilypaw. Her stark white fur shone clear as day among the earthy hues of the pine forest.

The apprentice was facing Zinniablossom, having rose from a crouch. "I'm hunting. What's it look like?" she mewed innocently, sounding a little too sweet to be genuine.

Zinniablossom narrowed her eyes. "Obviously. I just wanted to let you know that your oddly white pelt will do you favors here," she pointed out haughtily. "You stick out like a bump on a log."

"That may be so, but I'll have you know I'm one of the best hunters of the apprentices," Lilypaw retorted matter-of-factly.

"Great… that means we're doomed to starve."

Sedgestrike rolled her eyes as the she-cats began bickering. There were definitely some cats she wouldn't miss in MarshClan. As their argument became more heated, Sedgestrike slinked away, creeping from bush to bush until she was far enough not to be spotted. Their escalating quarrel echoed between the pines, and she could hear that it morphed from the topic of white fur to who was the better fighter.

When the pine needles began to wane underfoot and bleed weakly into rich soil, Sedgestrike knew she was nearing the Great Cypress. Grass was free to grow without being smothered. Hardwood trees in the form of oaks and birches and maples became more numerous, filling the air with a rich earthy scent. Golden sunlight shone between the roof of leaves, illuminating Sedgestrike's dark tabby fur as she walked through. Roots protruded from the ground like pulsating veins, coated with pelts of green moss. Sedgestrike stepped from root to root, seeing the broad trunk emerge between the trees.

At the foot of the massive tree, she could see mother and siblings sitting and waiting. They were talking to Redleaf; the medicine cat was regarding them with a solemn visage. It wasn't until he saw Sedgestrike approaching that he became studious and nodded a polite greeting to her.

"Welcome," Redleaf mewed. "I presume Heronpaw gave you a hard time? You're arriving later than I expected."

Sedgestrike nodded. "Give Heronpaw a chance to be difficult and he'll take it."

She joined the others, sitting between Yewbranch and Redleaf with a sigh. All the cats exchanged looks, waiting with bated breath and poker faces. No one seemed willing to start the conversation; they held their hand close.

Mudpaw was the first to break. "Alright. What's this all about?" he demanded. "I have to clean Cypressfang's pelt before sunhigh, and he'll have my tail if I'm late."

"Mudpaw," Redleaf began evenly. "You must know by now about the circumstances of your birth."

Mudpaw was lashing his tail impatiently. He kept fidgeting, growing uncomfortable in his own fur. "Yeah," he grumbled moodily. "Doesn't the whole damn Clan?" He rolled his eyes and recounted the story lackadaisically, as if he'd retold it hundreds of times. "Fernstream was a medicine cat apprentice that fell for a warrior. She ended up neglecting her calling as a medicine cat to become a queen and take a mate, yeah, yeah."

Sedgestrike could see Fernstream was looking highly flustered, eyeing her son with scorn.

Ignoring Mudpaw's lack of enthusiasm, Redleaf pressed on with a level voice. "Then you must understand why your birth may be frowned upon by StarClan."

"Redleaf!" Fernstream hissed. "I'll allow you to talk to them about this, but don't you dare belittle my kits."

Clearing his throat, Redleaf nodded briskly. "Apologies…" He turned back to Mudpaw. "The birth of three who are not meant to be will give rise to revolution." The air felt heavier after the prophecy was spoken. "Does that sound familiar to you?"

Sedgestrike gauged her brother's reaction, but found him hard to read with his eyes fixed on the ground. Her sister shuddered beside her.

Mudpaw stole a glance at Sedgestrike. "I've heard of it," he admitted glumly. "Don't see what difference it makes though...

"That's why you're here, Mudpaw," Fernstream explained gently. Her tongue rasped across Mudpaw's tufted ear, and he shrugged her off with a pouting face. "We are trying to protect you from this."

"But why?" Mudpaw hissed. "What's the point? It's just some dumb words." Though he was becoming prickly, Sedgestrike could see the softness in Mudpaw. His eyes were wide with fear, and he kept squirming uncomfortably.

"These words govern your life, unfortunately," Redleaf continued gravely. He had his head bowed, as if in prayer. "You must adhere to the possibility that this prophecy will be fulfilled."

"And what's so bad about that?" Mudpaw snapped. "What's there to be frightened of?"

Sedgestrike froze, shocked. She glared at her brother, envious of how ignorant he was. How he could sit there, demanding answers, while she had the torturous curse of finding everything out on her own. "There's an entity," she began with a growl in her throat, "that wishes to eliminate StarClan. The prophecy came from them."

"Who?" Yewbranch squeaked. She sounded afraid of the answer.

"The Place of Eternal Night," Sedgestrike answered, a shiver in her words. "It's a dreadful… awful place for cats that pledge allegiance to the Order of the Destined Paragons."

"Your sister has been through a lot these last couple moons," Fernstream told them, eyes brimming with sympathy. Sedgestrike wished her mother saved her pity, for she could see Mudpaw turn green with envy in response to it.

"What's this Order?" Yewbranch asked, bewildered. "I've never heard of it.

"It's a secret society embedded in the origin of MarshClan," Redleaf recounted. "Darkstar, at the time Darkfeather, conspired with his medicine cat to overthrow his sister, Eveningstar." The heavy tree branches of the Great Cypress groaned in the wind, sorrowful against it. "He was promised power eternal and knowledge unlimited by his medicine cat should he succeed in doing one thing… kill his own sister. He did succeed, as you know and became the third leader of MarshClan. Shortly after, he formed the Order, which comprised of only the best, most elite group of cats that swore fidelity to the Eternal Night. Hence the honor graduate system..."

Again, Mudpaw turned green with envy. His face was contorted into a scowl made just for Sedgestrike; she was not obliged to appreciate it.

Yewbranch was staring at the Great Cypress, shivering. "How could he? His own kin…"

Another groan sounded from the Great Cypress as the wind picked up. Sedgestrike glanced around in confusion. Where were these sudden gusts even coming from?

"The Place of Eternal Night is an ancient force, probably tracing back to the Clans Marshstar originated from when he called himself Ashbreeze," Redleaf mused, looking thoughtfully at the cypress roots. "And they are very real."

"I'm hardly young enough to enjoy scary bedtime stories, Redleaf," Mudpaw scoffed.

"They're real," Sedgestrike asserted, rising to her paws. "I've seen them. They're vicious. They aren't like you and I."

Mudpaw curled his lip, but relented.

Fernstream came between them, brows furrowed. "This is serious. Don't start disagreeing now." She turned to Mudpaw. "Whether you believe them or not doesn't matter because Whitestar does."

Mudpaw's ears perked. "She does?"

Sedgestrike nodded grimly and added, "She knows of the prophecy as well, and she celebrates it." Disgust tricked into her words. "She wants us to fulfill the prophecy, thinks us heroes for it…"

Yewbranch looked horrified. "You mean… rid of StarClan?" She gulped loudly. "Is—is that even possible?"

"I don't know…" Sedgestrike confessed.

Mudpaw's eyes were wide. "So… what will we do?"

"We run," Sedgestrike told him. "We can't fulfill this prophecy, and now that Whitestar knows what we're capable of, we're in danger."

"I've arranged for you four to travel across the border to the Land of the Fallen. You'll be safe there," Redleaf assured them. "You leave tonight."

"Wait—wait, slow down," Mudpaw protested. "Leave MarshClan? Live with the Fallen? Do you have bees in your brain or are you just getting too old to think right?"

Yewbranch whimpered, "But what about Blackhawk. I couldn't possibly—I mean, we just—I—" She shut her eyes, trembling as she choked back sobs.

"We can't leave!" Mudpaw asserted with a hiss. "Abandon our only home on the basis of some words some fake dead cats made up? No!"

Sedgestrike bristled. "If you stay here, you'll have to bend to Whitestar's wishes. You have no idea what she's capable of, or what she's done… She's—she's a murderer, Mudpaw."

"Rubbish," Mudpaw spat. His voice was guttural.

"You can kick and scream all you want," Fernstream quipped, "but you all are coming with me tonight whether you like it or not. Staying here is a death sentence."

"Don't you see?" Sedgestrike pleaded. "We can't fulfill this prophecy. We can't let her win. Could you imagine all the horrible things we'd have to do to kill StarClan?"

Yewbranch shuddered again. "No… I—I couldn't. I know I wouldn't be able to do what she asked of me…"

"And she'll have you killed for it," Sedgestrike mewed savagely.

Yewbranch flinched back.

Meanwhile, Mudpaw went quiet, shutting his eyes. His tail was curling in and out thoughtfully. "You said four," he muttered quietly. His eyes fell on Fernstream. "What about Shaleheart?"

Fernstream sighed softly. "I know how hard this must be for you three, but I cannot stress to you enough how crucial tonight will be." Her eyes hardened, glinting like adamant emeralds on her fair face. "Your father wouldn't understand. We can't risk this going wrong."

"So, what, we just leave him?" Mudpaw snarled. "How could you say that?"

"Because I love you," Fernstream said simply.

"You realize if things go wrong tonight, all four of you could be tried for treason," Redleaf pointed out vindictively. "If you're seen trying to leave MarshClan, it can and will get ugly."

"Which is why we can't tell Shaleheart. We can't tell anyone." Fernstream's eyes fell on Yewbranch.

Yewbranch recoiled from her mother's gaze. "I—I won't."

Sedgestrike knew her sister was thinking of Blackhawk. Her mind then went to Blueflower. Her mate. Sedgestrike's heart sank. It seemed like the powers of the stars and beyond were determined to keep them apart. She knew Blueflower was probably in on their escape; after all, she too worked with the Fallen. But… to say goodbye so soon…

"This isn't fair!" Mudpaw suddenly exploded, causing nearly all the cats to jump out of their fur. His face was wraught with fury. "How can you just rearrange my whole life in one day like this?" He suddenly looked very small. "I've tried… I've tried so hard to build a good life for myself. I've tried to be a good cat. And here I am… getting all my efforts ripped from me… again." He gave Sedgestrike a pointed look, and she stiffened defensively. "This isn't fair…" he said again, though without the fervor from before. His voice dwindled off like a weak breeze.

"Your life was never yours to be arranged," Redleaf mewed curtly. "Your path has been laid out by the Eternal Night, waiting to be fulfilled. This is our attempt to divert you from that path, for it will only lead to nothing but darkness and pain…"

"Besides," Sedgestrike growled. Mudpaw had struck a nerve by giving her such an accusatory stare. "You're life hasn't changed in one day. I tried to tell you before what was happening. I told you about the prophecy—you didn't believe me!"

Mudpaw avoided Sedgestrike's stare, refusing to speak.

"Just give this a chance, my son," Fernstream begged. She came to his side, wrapping her tail around him and pulling him close like she used to do when she comforted him as a kit. They were the same height now, but Mudpaw still tucked his head beneath her chin like he used to. "I've always wanted what was best for you. I'm only agreeing to do this because it's our only option."

Yewbranch bit back a sob, but it bled through as a whine. "I can't believe this is happening."

Sedgestrike glanced at the three of them, feeling indignant. She knew it would come to this all along. If only they just listened to her. If only Fernstream told them about the prophecy sooner. Maybe then, she would not feel so jaded. Leaving MarshClan was the final solution. It would pain her more if Blueflower was not among Risen; at least with her associating with them, she would get a chance to see her again. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to feel sympathy for the rest of her family. They chose not to believe and keep secrets; it was their willful ignorance that caused their sorrows.

"Well," Redleaf began, "now that we lay bare all the ambiguities… Let's talk business."

The four cats looked to Redleaf warily as he relayed the plan. "When the sun touches the horizon, you four will rendezvous at the river border. Do not leave as a group. Once the sun begins to set and twilight falls, your escorts will arrive and take you to safety. If there's a delay, they will only wait for you all until the moon is at its full shine, so don't be late."

"Understood," Sedgestrike replied seriously. The rest of her family nodded.

"Good." Redleaf smiled, looking pleasant, much like he used to when Sedgestrike was young. In those days, she actually heard him laugh; it was a jovial chortle contagious enough to get the whole Clan chuckling. She couldn't remember the last time she heard it. As soon as it appeared, it faded away, replaced by a serious scowl. "It is of the utmost importance you're not seen with me for the rest of the day. Stay low. Try not to get caught doing any menial tasks—"

"Yeah, right, like I'd get away with that…" Mudpaw grumbled. Fernstream's quizzical stare prompted him to elaborate. "Whitestar always has something for me to do!"

"Be that as it may, let's just keep a low profile for now," Fernstream finished testily, eyeing each of her kits.

Redleaf nodded. "Agreed." He stood, legs shaking slightly; Sedgestrike couldn't figure out if it was his age or his nerves that caused it. "This ends my assistance to you and your family," he murmured gravely, glaring at Fernstream. "I cannot attract too much attention during these uncertain times if I'm to protect my position and Risen."

Sedgestrike eyed Redleaf curiously. His round face, usually bright and jovial, became wan recently. His eyes drooped, wrinkling as they sagged at the corners. He was hunched over as he walked as if he carried a litter of kits on his back. Leaving them in the clearing, the tremble in his legs remained.

"I need to go and speak to Blackhawk," Yewbranch whispered weakly.

"But you can't—" Sedgestrike's protest was cut short.

"I know!" Yewbranch assured her. "I know," her voice became calmer, losing its strain. "I can't tell him we're leaving. I just want to—I don't know—I just want to spend as much time with him as possible."

"Yewbranch, dear," Fernstream mewed comfortingly, moving to her daughter.

"Just—just let me do this!" Yewbranch cried, running off into the pine forest. Her sobs echoed between the trees, waning with the wind.

"This is all your fault," Mudpaw growled mutinously. He stalked passed Sedgestrike and Fernstream, head hung low and tail drooping. Fernstream was struck by his green glare, flinching away. "You did this. None of this would be happening if it wasn't for you."

Sedgestrike rose to her mother's defense in an instant, curling her lip at Mudpaw with a snarl. "Take it back."

Her brother merely shook his head and loped off into the shadows of the pines.

Sedgestrike turned to Fernstream, seeing her eyes were glazed over. "He didn't mean it," she asserted. "He's just speaking from hurt feelings."

Fernstream smiled tiredly. " I always thought my life was worth living because I had my kits," she mewed. "The pain and stress and the worry… All of that didn't matter because I knew you three slept safe with full bellies." She paused, her head sinking. It hung so loosely and low Sedgestrike thought it would fall. "But I never took into account what it would mean if I failed my kits. If I failed as a mother, as your protector. There's so much more than just… giving you life…" Her eyes stared into Sedgestrike's desperately. "I must make your lives worth living, and in turn that'll fulfill my own. Then," she paused, nodding, "then I can be content."

"Fernstream… Mom… you-you don't have to do all that." Sedgestrike came close and pressed her nose to her mother's cheek. "You have done so much for us already. No one thinks you've failed them." Even as she spoke it, she wasn't sure it was true. She had no idea how her siblings felt right now. "I love you, Mom."

Fernstream shuddered, sighing shakily. She rested her chin on her head and nuzzled her. "And I love you too, more than anything."

"Let's go back to camp," Sedgestrike decided.