CLOUDS gathered overhead, swirling in the sky around MarshClan's camp. Corpulent raindrops fell from their heavy gray faces, splashing onto the grass of the clearing. On the fringes, sheltered by the overgrown knotweed that surrounded the camp, stood the whole of MarshClan. Their eyes glinted in the shadows and their pelts were bristling with fear and rage, for in the center of camp, bleeding and wheezing, was the warrior that killed one of their own.

Sedgestrike blinked the water out of her eye as rain fell more fervently. The faces that surrounded her, hugged by thick leaves and dark shadows, were unfamiliar. Her vision blurred as blood poured from her wounds, staining the puddles growing around her red. Lightning flashed, bringing to light some of the faces of the MarshClan cats. She could see Jasminefur, holding her kits close with her tail, staring at her with nothing but fear. She saw Otternose, sneering, muttering to Dewpelt and Fogspots eagerly.

No. Sedgestrike thought. I am not the one they should be afraid of. She tried to stand, to go to her Clanmates and explain, but she was knocked back to the muddy grass with a hiss. Standing over her was Grayjaw, and by his side was Snakefang. As her vision slowly began to clear, she could see the rest of the Order surrounding her, shielding her, or maybe imprisoning her, from the rest of the Clan.

"MarshClan!" The cry from the Fallen Cypress gained the attention of all the gathered cats. Whitestar stood, her white pelt turned gray by the falling rain, glaring down on Sedgestrike with blazing amber eyes. "Earlier today, it was brought to my attention that there were traitors within MarshClan. Upon investigating the lead, I, along with my most trusted warriors, discovered a gruesome scene: Longscar... dead."

A flurry of disturbed murmurs arose from around Sedgestrike, engulfing her as thunder bellowed. She could see the glint of hate in the eyes of MarshClan. Bowing her head, she shut her eyes and tried to remember the gleam of Fernstream's eyes as she felt her intestines liquify into fear in her belly.

"Longscar's murderer stands before you, and her name is Sedgestrike." The flurry of whispers rose to a storm of hisses, rivalling the tumult above. Sedgestrike was trapped in the eye of the storm. The cyclone only grew stronger as Whitestar continued, "We must bring to justice the one that wronged one of our greatest warriors. We must honor his life by condemning the one that ended it too soon. In his memory, I bring the murderer to you, MarshClan, so you may see the lengths that traitors will go to silence us."

Lightning flashed across the churning sky, but the white hot heat was cool compared to the fire in Whitestar's eyes. Sedgestrike stared up at Whitestar, knowing there was no hope of her leader letting her walk alive. Fear slowly began to wash away under the rain. Sedgestrike sat upright, keeping her chin held high in defiance. If she was to be made an example of, she would do so with pride. Longscar deserved to die.

"We will hold a trial at sunrise," Whitestar announced.

A caterwaul of protests rose from the crowd. "No! Kill her!" The raving warriors carried on hungrily, eyeing Sedgestrike with hatred. "She does not deserve to be here!"

Sedgestrike petrified into stone as the MarshClan cats carried on, calling for her head. She let their words slide off of her like the rain from her whiskers and blood from her fur. In her heart, a fire grew. She knew she could not contain it. "And what about Fernstream?" she cried out.

Silence shook the Clan. For once, hate no longer flickered in their eyes. Instead, confusion befuddled their soaked faces. They glanced between another, searching for their missing Clanmate. Concerned whispers began to rise.

Whitestar watched the mood unfold with a curled lip. "MarshClan," she called. "Do not let this murderer confuse you. The details of the murder shall be discussed at the trial, Fernstream's involvement included." She jutted her chin at Sedgestrike. "Take her to the prisoners quarters."

Jostled by Grayjaw and Snakefang, Sedgestrike was ushered toward the reeds that shouldered Mother Lake. She watched as they trembled in the wind, eager to hold her captive. Rotten leaves and putrid mud blanketed the ground of her cage, smelling of mildew and fish. She was tossed into the clutches of the reeds by Grayjaw and was left gagging by the odor of her new quarters.

"Don't worry," Snakefang sneered. "You won't be in there for long."

Grayjaw stood at the front of the prisoners quarters, silent, and Snakefang settled by his side. The younger warrior's fiendish, toothy grin was barely visible in the darkening sky. Though the storm hid the stars, Sedgestrike knew night had fallen. The shadows consumed MarshClan now. The only light that was spared as that of the flashing lightning that crackled above.

"I hope you make your peace now," Snakefang rattled on. "Because you won't have time to after the trial at sunrise."

Glaring at her captors, Sedgestrike curled into her muddy nest. She could feel the rot ooze into her open wounds and shiver. If she didn't die at the claws of her Clanmates, she knew infection would happily oblige. Her wounded eye burned fiercely, and it was too swollen to blink or shut; she pawed at it angrily, feeling it ooze and itch, and then burn as she got mud into it. Sedgestrike licked the wounds on her shoulder, but felt the neglected wounds at her chest and throat only cry harder, causing a stream of red tears to rain down onto her already sopping bed.

"There isn't going to be a trial if I die in my sleep," she rasped.

Grayjaw's yellow eyes glinted in her direction, his frown severe.

"What are you going on about?" Snakefang hissed.

"My wounds, you mousebrain," Sedgestrike snapped. She cursed her tongue for flopping weakly in her mouth. Despite the fire in her heart, her body was draining fast. The bite she wanted, the ferocity she was known for, was hard to deliver when she was bleeding out like a gutted fish. "I won't make it," she continued hoarsely. "Whitestar's precious trial will be all for naught if I'm dead at dawn."

Grayjaw hissed, shoving at Snakefang. "Go. Fetch Redleaf. We can't have her dying... yet."

Snakefang curled a lip and slithered away grudgingly. His long tail carried in the wind behind him.

An ethereal mist was falling from the sky now, bleached white by the weak moonlight that peered through the thinning clouds. Wind buffeted, hissing between the reeds, and causing the moss hanging from the cypress branches to wag excitedly. Sedgestrike watched the falling mist, eye half-shut. She remembered a nursery tale of the Clans Beyond the Horizon, where Marshstar and the first warriors came from. In the Clans Beyond the Horizon, frozen rain would fall from the sky. It would be so cold that their whiskers would feel stiff and their pelts would grow so thick, every cat would have a mane. The frozen rain was pure white as it fell, and it would melt to water once it touched a cat's frozen rain would stick to the earth once it fell, and the white wind would chase away the green from the trees and bushes. Even the rivers and lakes would freeze into stillness. The air would be so cold and silent, that the crunch of paws into the white could be heard from all corners of the land. Sedgestrike imagined standing in the cold with the frozen rain swirling around her, far, far away from MarshClan. She no longer felt her wounds burn. Maybe there was such thing as magic?

"Sedgestrike."

Sedgestrike's eye fluttered open and found Redleaf standing over her. His round, ginger face was sagging with fatigue like a drop of amber slipping from a piece of bark. She tried to rise to greet him, but her legs felt numb.

"Don't move," he whispered. "You've lost a lot of blood."

"I'm well aware," she retorted, settling on her side with a grunt.

Redleaf said nothing, but brought a ball of wet moss to the wounds on her neck and shoulder, cleaning them. Sedgestrike watched as he continued to glance behind him. The mist was falling more rapidly now, creating a wall at the entrance of the prisoners quarters. Redleaf leaned in, as if to clean her eye. Instead, he whispered hurriedly, "Your littermates are safe. They have not been implicated in any way. Mudpaw was still in camp when Foxpaw returned with the news of Longscar. Yewbranch was not in camp, but I found her and had her return with me."

Sedgestrike felt her nerves settle at the news. She was so overcome with pain and adrenaline from what occurred on the border, she nearly forgot about the escape plan altogether. She ducked her head to show gratitude to Redleaf. But a question was still scratching at the back of her head. "What now?"

Redleaf frowned as he soaked Sedgestrike's wounded eye with the sodden moss ball. "I don't know." He began to slather her wounds with a sweet-smelling poultice. "The prophecy foretold of you and your littermates becoming stewards of Whitestar and the Place of Eternal Night, not implicated for murder and treason."

"Redleaf!" Grayjaw bellowed, causing both cats to freeze. "How're you getting along in there?"

Redleaf blinked away his shock, shaking his head irritably. "Rather fine until I was interrupted!" he replied, tail lashing. "I'll be out momentarily."

Sedgestrike heard a grunt come from Grayjaw, but nothing more. Her eye found Redleaf in the dark of the den again. "I'm not talking about the prophecy," Sedgestrike snapped under her breath. "Forget about the prophecy! I mean… what of our escape? My littermates? Myself?"

"Where's Fernstream?" Redleaf asked suddenly.

Sedgestrike stiffened, squeezing her eye shut. It felt as if her mended wounds were ripped open again at the mention of her name. The sight of her mangled, bloated body at the riverside intruded on her. "She's…"

"Sedgestrike," Redleaf went on desperately, "I must know."

"She's…"

Sedgestrike felt stuck. Her tongue no longer wished to work. Her eye was trained on the shivering reeds. She could see Fernstream's corpse getting rocks shoved down her throat. Her body… lost to the rushing river.

"Sedgestrike!" Redleaf hissed shakily. "Please."

Sedgestrike shook her head. "She didn't make it across. Longscar… killed her."

Redleaf froze, eyes wide. His jaw remained open, clacking uselessly as he struggled to speak. "I-but she's…"

Sedgestrike shook her head.

Redleaf stood, shaking. "It can't be…"

"It can. It is," Sedgestrike muttered bitterly.

"I told her to stay. I begged her. She wouldn't listen." Redleaf's stocky frame shook with choked back sobs. He laughed ruefully. "She never listens."

"Redleaf," Sedgestrike continued, trying to find a sliver of sanity in his impossibly wide eyes. "What about us? How're we going to escape? What's the next plan?"

Redleaf was still shaking. He shook his head rapidly, his teeth clicking as he muttered inaudibly. The reeds around them shuddered more violently. "There isn't another plan," he whispered. His eyes were convulsing in their sockets as he glanced around wildly. His whisper was barely audible, "Fernstream's dead."

"Wh-what?" Sedgestrike rose to her paws in desperation. "What about Risen? Can't they help? It's not safe for us here. Redleaf!" The medicine cat was gathering his supplies as she panicked. "Please! What can we do?"

Redleaf paused in his preparation to depart. His drooping face was barely visible in the shadows. "I'm sorry, Sedgestrike. There is nothing more we can do." He sighed shakily. "The stakes are too high. Whitestar and the Order somehow infiltrated our escape plan. Our faction is compromised."

"But… the trial is at dawn," Sedgestrike whined. "Are you saying that… that I'm going to…"

With trembling lips, Redleaf murmured, "It's over. We can't win."

The medicine cat left in a rush, disappearing into the showering mist. Wind howled outside the prison cell. In his haste, Redleaf forgot to bandage Sedgestrike's wounds with cobwebs. She could feel blood pool against the poultice. She thought she could smell death. The night felt endless in her cell. Time stretched on forever into the unclear mist Sedgestrike stared into. For once, Sedgestrike welcomed the night, for she knew on the horizon, death was waiting.