A/N: I apologize for the lack of updates in the last month. Third quarter was hitting me hard. With hope, I'll have the time and energy to write more chapters so I can return to my update schedule from here on out!
8
A few days had passed, and Blacktuft's strength was returning. The tom had needed to stay near camp for that time, to regain it, and he had hated every second of it. At last, he was given permission by Redbird that he could expand the area he could travel to, which meant he could finally go to ShadowClan and see the nature of the cats there. ThunderClan, thankfully, had seemed to be steadily recovering from their sickness, Redbird had told him, and the winds had died down. It was a sign of good things to come. With hope, ShadowClan was faring just as well, and the Clans were finally beginning to see their way through this.
The snow was melting when Blacktuft ventured out of camp with his patrol. He could hear Springfeather and Heatherfoot padding behind him, and he even heard a disgusted mew from Heatherfoot at the slush. A purr of amusement followed, and Blacktuft could imagine that Springfeather had playfully nudged her friend. Blacktuft paused at a rise, his gaze passing over their territory, with its bits of grass poking through the patches of white. He could see Torntail leading Blackpaw and Grousepaw along the ThunderClan border, and he decided to take the long way, so the two apprentices wouldn't be upset that they couldn't come with them. Blacktuft didn't want his kits to distract him on his first appearance before the other Clan.
Blacktuft clambered down the rise, gripping the rabbit in his jaws tighter, and headed toward the lake, the opposite direction of where Torntail was taking the young cats. The lake had broken of its ice, the warmer temperatures allowing it to free itself after some days of stillness. It was a relief to the WindClan deputy, who hoped desperately for warmer times and more prey. Springfeather and Heatherfoot were being playful, now, but last night had been especially frightening. He, watching from the medicine cats' den, had worried the cats would break their honor and turn on Trenchstar. A few cats had scraped by getting bit or scratched when they took their prey. Blacktuft shuddered at the thought.
If only the cats knew that Blacktuft might have seen a vision from StarClan, but Redbird had cautioned him against it. "You're not a medicine cat," he had murmured to the deputy. "They won't believe you, even if you do say something."
"Why can't you tell them? Pretend like it was your vision," Blacktuft had suggested to him, but the look in Redbird's eyes already gave him his answer.
Redbird had answered, "No. I can't do that. It would be disgracing StarClan for me to claim your vision. They sent it to you for a reason. You need to wait until they reveal more to you. Open your ears to them, and if something more is revealed to you, tell me." The conversation had been over at that. No questions asked; Blacktuft could see that he wouldn't be able to convince the white and red tabby tom.
"At least the lake is finally melting," commented Springfeather as the three cats approached its edge. Heatherfoot murmured her agreement, her tail-tip flicking as she peered over the freezing water.
"I bet RiverClan isn't all too happy about that," Blacktuft mumbled around his rabbit, imagining how Cloudstar would take the loss of range. They would still attempt to take whatever fish they could from the water, but their ability to reach further into the lake had just been eliminated.
Heatherfoot flattened her ears, her eyes filling with concern. "You think they'll be upset about it?" she asked. Blacktuft twitched his ear as he listened to her. By the tone of her voice, she must not have thought about that. "What if they demand more prey?"
"If they do," growled Springfeather through the mouse she was gripping in her jaws, unsheathing her claws, "I'll tell them that they're piles of fox-dung. We're already contributing most of the prey! No way are they pushing us to supply half of what ShadowClan gets!"
Blacktuft flicked his tail in the air to signal for silence as they approached the ThunderClan border. He peered down at the stream, hesitating before plunging into the icy water. He sucked in a sharp, painful breath as he forced his way through it to the other side, emerging with dripping fur. He crouched low, setting down the rabbit, and waited for Heatherfoot and Springfeather to join him. The three crouched down together, sharing tongues to help each other warm up.
Springfeather mumbled, "Do you think ShadowClan will be happy to see us?"
Heatherfoot shrugged, answering her, "Hollowpelt said they weren't very happy, last time we saw them."
"When is ShadowClan ever happy?" Blacktuft commented with purrs of laughter from the other two.
When they finished grooming, Springfeather swept her tail along the snow and picked up her mouse. She stood up, beginning to pad into the woods. Blacktuft was about to pick up his rabbit, but Heatherfoot reached forward and grabbed it in her own jaws. "You've been carrying it for long enough," she murmured, and Blacktuft nodded before proceeding with the two she-cats, fluffing up his fur to attempt to stay warm.
Blacktuft watched the woods every now and again, as if expecting a ThunderClan patrol to appear through the leaves. He dreamed of the snow melting away, replaced by the smells of prey and the occasional twitch in the shadow that revealed a pelt and eyes staring back into his own. He couldn't wait for everything to return to normal.
Normal. Lostear's normal. It had been like this too long, hadn't it? Blacktuft didn't really know of a time where all four Clans were up to speed. They had been worn on for far too long. That dream really was it: A dream. He'd never fully experienced such a thing. He'd seen scrawny cats in those leaves, bounding after prey desperately, but he'd never seen ThunderClan or ShadowClan to their full strength. His normal was when two Clans helped two others to survive because that was what was necessary to preserve the Clans. His normal was when young cats could be stolen by other Clans in their eagerness to keep their lineage in some way.
Blacktuft turned his gaze from the woods, focusing on the pines that lay ahead. His ears swiveled forward and he picked up the pace a bit. They were almost to the ShadowClan border, and he was full of anticipation to reach their camp. He slid into the pine forest, feeling the needles under his paws, springy in the patches where the snow had melted. They were approaching the camp, now. He could smell cats up ahead. He pulled up as they arrived at the entrance, exchanging a glance with Heatherfoot before he walked inside, lifting his tail as if his paws didn't ache already from the trek. Cats peered at him from the darkness of their dens, strange scents filling his nose. It had been a long time since he scented ShadowClan, and he had to resist wrinkling his nose at the smell.
From a patch of sparse sunlight, a dark brown she-cat rose, her green eyes glittering as she peered at the WindClan cats. She jerked her muzzle toward a shallow dip where a fresh-kill pile had likely existed. Blacktuft padded toward it, pausing at the edge as Heatherfoot and Springfeather deposited the measly pieces of prey. "That's all you have?" questioned a red she-cat, sliding out from one of the dens, her pelt standing on end.
"This is all we can give," Blacktuft meowed, lifting his chin as he gazed back at her.
A dark brown tabby nudged the red she-cat roughly, growling, "They're giving us prey, Yewberry. Quiet, now."
Blacktuft relaxed when the tom stepped in, feeling a small shard of relief. He'd heard stories about ShadowClan, not many of them pleasant. He had to keep from feeling some anxiety when meeting these cats. He looked at the dark brown she-cat, assuming she was the leader. He dipped his head, mewing, "I hope the prey will run well in the next moon. It's starting to warm up!"
"It certainly is," she responded, her ears perking and her muzzle turning toward the sky. She settled her tail over her paws, blinking a few times. "Let's hope it stays that way."
"StarClan knows we need the prey," Blacktuft remarked with a grimace, and the eyes turned toward him at the mention of StarClan. He worked hard not to let his tail lower or his fur to lift.
Yet, despite their stares, none of the ShadowClan cats said anything about it. Instead, the dark brown she-cat said to them, "You should go." She padded toward the pieces of prey they had given as tribute.
"Did RiverClan give their prey this morning?" Blacktuft questioned her, watching the ShadowClan cats lurk out of the shadows toward the she-cat. He studied them, noticing the hungry way they approached, and the way their tails curled close to their sides. Defensive.
"What RiverClan does is their business, not WindClan's," meowed a voice from across the camp, and Blacktuft turned, watching as a black tom appeared. Blacktuft wouldn't have noticed him if he hadn't spoken, his pelt blended in so well with the darkness! Blacktuft faced him fully, whisking his tail across the ground once. "WindClan cats are starting to act an awful lot like ThunderClan, aren't they?"
The dark brown tabby rose from his resting place, appealing, "Crowstar, the WindClan cats brought us prey. They-"
Crowstar stepped toward Blacktuft and the rest of the patrol, and his green eyes moved from one to the other. He had lifted his tail for silence, his command evident, now. Blacktuft felt a pang as he remembered how he had assumed the dark brown she-cat was the leader. There was no doubt about it, with Crowstar before him, that the tom was the actual one. He exuded a confidence that Blacktuft had not seen in Snowstar. Blacktuft felt as if Crowstar was peering through his soul, his piercing eyes narrow and searching. After a moment of silence that felt as if it had lasted forever, Crowstar stated, "I haven't seen you around, before." His eyes were focused on Blacktuft; he was addressing neither of the two that had accompanied the WindClan deputy.
Blacktuft dipped his head, mewing, "My name is Blacktuft. I'm the deputy of WindClan. It's nice to finally meet you, Crowstar. I don't think we ever have."
Crowstar studied him carefully, tipping his head to the side slightly. He turned, walking over to the fresh-kill pile and bending down to sniff at the prey. Blacktuft eyed the larger cat, whiskers twitching. "No, we haven't," the ShadowClan leader agreed. "Why is that? I've even seen your leader, but you haven't shown up in the last few days. Your warriors have, but not you."
Blacktuft narrowed his eyes, stepping away from his fellow warriors and moving over to stand by the other cat. He lifted his head, though he kept his chin lowered. He replied, "You're right, I haven't. WindClan has been busy catching prey and keeping our territory defended. We'll be able to spare more cats in newleaf, I'm sure."
"Your leader was a deputy, once, wasn't he?" questioned Crowstar.
"Of course! We'd never defile the warrior code," meowed Blacktuft with confidence.
Crowstar turned his head sharply toward the younger warrior, snarling, "Then why isn't he competent enough to let his deputy leave camp to bring prey to ShadowClan?"
Blacktuft took a wary step back, startled, and then he, barely containing a snarl, echoed, "What WindClan does is our business, not yours." He turned, whipping his tail close to Crowstar's face, and padded toward the exit of camp. "Let's get out of here," he growled, and Springfeather and Heatherfoot moved to follow him. Blacktuft was reassured to see that their hackles were raised, too, claws unsheathed and muscles braced to fight with the ShadowClan cats. They followed him obediently, tails lifting in defiance.
"I'll tell RiverClan you're hiding something!" Crowstar snapped after them, but Blacktuft kept walking. "You WindClan cats will lose all your prey over this!"
Blacktuft stepped out of the camp, ignoring the growls of the black cat. He kept walking until they were at the lake, and then he paused at the water's edge. Heatherfoot and Springfeather pulled up beside him, and Springfeather snarled, "I can't believe they'd treat us like that! Mouse-brains! Don't they realize that we don't have to give them prey? We could let them starve, instead!"
Blacktuft gazed down at the reflection of the stars on the water, listening as Heatherfoot responded, "Crowstar had no right to talk to Blacktuft that way."
"Nor did he have the right to say Trenchstar is incompetent!" growled Springfeather. Blacktuft could see her reflection pacing back and forth, broken by the gently lapping waves. "He's lucky I didn't claw his ears off!"
"That almost turned into a fight," Heatherfoot agreed. "Would it even be safe for us to give ShadowClan prey anymore?"
"I know that you want us to support the other Clans, Blacktuft, because StarClan says so, but we can't stand for that kind of treatment! Those fools in ShadowClan have no idea who they're dealing with!" spat Springfeather.
Heatherfoot looked at Blacktuft, frowning, and called his name softly, "Blacktuft?" Springfeather paused in her pacing, looking over at the black-furred deputy as he gazed into the water. "Blacktuft, are you all right…?"
Blacktuft paused, blinking once at his reflection, and then he mewed, "You're right."
"Right?" Springfeather echoed, her ears perking in surprise.
Blacktuft lifted his muzzle to look at the two she-cats. "You saw the way they stayed in the shadows. You saw how Crowstar looked. His warriors, too," he meowed, turning and beginning to walk along the water's edge. He felt as if the ShadowClan territory was looming toward him, reaching its icy claws to sink into his pelt and drag him inside the darkness.
"Yeah, but that's just ShadowClan. We're talking about the way Crowstar treated us," Springfeather mewed, confused by the tom's words.
"And you saw how Crowstar refused to answer whether or not RiverClan was feeding them," Blacktuft went on, keeping his gaze down at the ground while he walked. He felt a flutter of anxiety in his stomach, and he fought to hold it back.
"Sure, sure," Springfeather replied, exchanging a look with Heatherfoot. "So maybe the RiverClan cats are jerks."
Blacktuft tucked his ears back, murmuring, "Or maybe it's worse than that. Maybe the RiverClan cats aren't feeding ShadowClan because they don't need to anymore."
"Wait… so you're saying that RiverClan asked us to start giving ShadowClan prey for no reason…?" meowed Heatherfoot. "I'm sorry, Blacktuft, but that's a little-"
"It isn't for no reason," Blacktuft said to her, raising his head and watching as they grew closer to ThunderClan territory.
There was a pause, and then Springfeather breathed, "You're saying… You're saying that RiverClan did that on purpose, so we'd be giving all our prey to ThunderClan and ShadowClan…"
"And starving out WindClan," Blacktuft finished for her, his fur beginning to lift. "RiverClan and ShadowClan are working together. Fox-dung! We-We need to get back to camp!" He lengthened his stride, and the other two cats bounded after him, a new energy running through them from ears to tail-tip.
They raced through ThunderClan territory, dodging branches and leaping over undergrowth, their tails streaming behind them and their claws unsheathing to give them a better grasp on the cold earth beneath them. Their whiskers were full of wind, their small bodies pelting without stop. They were built for this through countless generations.
The three burst into camp rather suddenly. Too suddenly, Blacktuft figured. Every cat was facing them, startled by their entry. "Blacktuft?" Trenchstar called, pausing at the entrance to his den and peering at the black tom. He frowned, then padded through the center of camp. Any warriors in his way immediately moved to the side, allowing him to reach his deputy. "What's going on?"
Blacktuft forced his eyes to stay focused upon Trenchstar, and he meowed, "I need to speak with you. Privately." Trenchstar hesitated, studying the group of three before him, and then he gave a small nod. He turned, leading Blacktuft toward the leader's den. Blacktuft cast a look over his shoulder at Springfeather and Heatherfoot, desperately hoping the two of them wouldn't say anything about this until he had spoken with Trenchstar and found a solution. If the Clan found out and no one knew what to do, yet… who knew what would happen?
The two cats entered the burrow that Trenchstar had chosen to be his den during times of cold and awful weather. "We've been waiting for you to come back," Trenchstar meowed as he moved toward his nest, patting it lightly with his paw. "I didn't want to let them eat until you were ready." He sat down in his nest, facing Blacktuft and studying the dark-furred tom.
Blacktuft stood there in silence, his paws frozen to the spot as he watched the WindClan leader. The fluttering anxiety returned, but it was borne by a different fear. Trenchstar flicked his tail and Blacktuft obediently sat down, but his mouth seemed frozen shut, too. He couldn't speak! What if…?
"Speak, Blacktuft," Trenchstar encouraged him. "Talk to me." Blacktuft could see the WindClan leader's pelt prickling with impatience. He was worried, of course! And Blacktuft was only serving to make it worse…
Blacktuft broke his jaws from the icy grip of fear, working them for a moment before he answered, "Tr-Trenchstar…" Why was it suddenly so cold? "Trenchstar, we met with ShadowClan." Trenchstar gave a small nod. "D-Did you meet with them…?"
"Yes, remember?" Trenchstar meowed, forcing his voice to be calm and gentle. Blacktuft could see the irritation in his eyes. Trenchstar wanted him to talk! Why was he struggling like this? "It was while you were still resting up."
"Y-Yes, well… ShadowClan…" Blacktuft took a deep breath, then shook his head vigorously. "Let me start this over, Trenchstar." Trenchstar nodded and Blacktuft paused, then felt it all tumble out of his mouth as he spoke, "ShadowClan was especially rude to us, Trenchstar. I'd never met Crowstar before, but he was doing everything within his power to worm under our pelts! The cats didn't look or act weak or sick, and they were all pretty hostile! I think that RiverClan and ShadowClan are working together!"
His words were met with a moment of silence as Trenchstar sat up, his eyes wide at the accusation Blacktuft had made toward the other Clans. Finally, the tabby murmured, "Blacktuft… you have to realize how this sounds. For RiverClan and ShadowClan to conspire against us…"
"Would it be that hard? Trenchstar, if we believed that ShadowClan was starving, we'd feed them to keep them alive. RiverClan demanded that we give them some of our prey," Blacktuft meowed, pacing back and forth, reminding himself of Springfeather. "But it seemed like RiverClan might not be giving them any. A-And Crowstar wasn't just rude; he wanted to know more about the state of the Clan."
"What kind of questions was he asking?" Trenchstar asked slowly, drawing his ears back.
Blacktuft glanced at Trenchstar, then told him, "He was asking about me. He was using me as an excuse to ask about WindClan, I know it. He kept pestering me about the fact that he hasn't seen me in the last couple of contributions."
Trenchstar's tail-tip twitched and his eyes narrowed slightly, his mouth slightly ajar as he tried to understand. "Blacktuft," he cautioned, "maybe you're getting ahead of yourself with this. Maybe you misread. You can go back again tomorrow, and-"
"Trenchstar, please," Blacktuft pleaded, facing him again and gazing at Trenchstar with desperate eyes. "I have this gut feeling, and I can't shake it away! We've clung to StarClan more than any of the other Clans!"
Trenchstar nodded and adjusted his position in his spot, murmuring, "Loudear and Redbird helped influence that."
Blacktuft exclaimed, "And you said yourself that the peace is fragile with RiverClan! I told you I was surprised that RiverClan would stay put like this, and you told me that they'd never do it on their own! What if they plan to go with ShadowClan? We haven't let them, so what can they do? They can't attack us alone, but they can attack us together, to convince us to leave StarClan's ordained land!"
"Blacktuft, that's enough," Trenchstar meowed, standing up slowly, his hackles lifting. What was that look in his eyes?
"You're afraid!" Blacktuft gasped, his ears perking as he stared into the tom's amber eyes. This all made sense! Trenchstar didn't want it to come to war. He was so frightened that he wouldn't possibly consider it! "It's okay, Trenchstar! We were afraid, too. That's why we came back to the camp in such a hurry-"
Trenchstar flicked his tail, cutting Blacktuft off, "Who else knows about this?"
"Springfeather and Heatherfoot. They came with me to ShadowClan. We were speculating," Blacktuft mewed, blinking once as a new sense came over him. Maybe he'd gone in over his head on this one…
Trenchstar was rising to his paws, his tail now flicking back and forth, and he growled, "Don't tell this to anyone else, Blacktuft. Tell them to keep their mouths shut. I don't want them to spread this around, understand?"
Blacktuft flattened his ears, his tail dropping so the tip touched the ground. He took a small step back, intimidated by his leader. "I'll… I'll tell them," he confirmed weakly.
"I don't want to hear any of this again," Trenchstar told him sharply.
"But Trenchstar! We should stop feeding ShadowClan. We need to take matters into our own paws and protect ourselves before we starve out!" Blacktuft cried, making one last attempt to convince his leader.
"None of it!" Trenchstar snapped, and Blacktuft took another step back. He strode forward, brushing roughly past Blacktuft. "Let's get something to eat." Blacktuft watched him leave the den, remaining behind for a few moments. He lowered his head, forcing his breathing to remain even, though it threatened him, trying to rise and make him pant rapidly. He shook himself and lifted his head again, padding after Trenchstar slowly. He sighed, stepping outside and making his way toward the fresh-kill pile. The WindClan cats were already beginning to rise, hackles lifting, tension between them. Only their leaders stood between them and ripping each other apart for that mouse and that miserable mole.
Blacktuft halted at Trenchstar's side, lifting his tail and fluffing up his fur defensively. His gaze flicked to the sky, and he dreamed of tortoiseshell fur. StarClan, help us.