Chapter 18

Well, I'm glad at least a few people remembered this story. I got more reviews than I expected after so long, so I'm happy. Everyone who reviewed the last chapter gets a virtual cookie! :D Anyways, I made a cover for this story, because I was extremely bored, and I'd already written this chapter before I even posted the last one. If you want to see it, the link's in my profile. And yes, I do realize it's extremely terrible. x)

Angelic Zombie: Ahah, sorry about that. I'd actually completely forgotten about this story 'til a little while ago. :S But I'm glad you're happy!

Lightningstreak: Thanks! I never really liked Hawkfrost, but I like him in this story because he's completely psychotic. And psychotic people are sexeh. xD

Lightkit: I think I do remember you. Weren't you the one who threatened to murder me with a chainsaw when I killed Squirrelflight? x) And I didn't want them to capture Stormfur either, but he escapes later!

WildCroconaw: Probably hide with Millie and Brook somewhere far, far away.

Though the distance from the barn to TigerClan camp was short enough, this particular trip seemed to take hours. The heavy green-leaf sun pounded it's heat into Firepaw's back, making him sweat in places they hadn't thought possible. His paws sank into the marshy ground, covering his lower legs in mud that quickly dried and made it very uncomfortable to move. It seemed all of nature was turning against the four pitiful captives that trudged ever so slowly along the shore of the lake. As well as that, the apprentices' captors were walking slower than was normal just to torture their prisoners, and every few minutes they would give their respective hostage a hard shove. By now, poor Blackpaw was favouring his right front leg, which he had hurt in the squabble, and every once in awhile, he would be pushed so hard he would fall face first into the dirt. Even Stormfur could be seen limping occasionally, though he would usually regain control of his body after a few heartbeats.

The only cat that wasn't being given a hard time, it seemed, was Nightpaw. She walked unmolested beside Oakfur, almost as if she wanted to get back to camp and be taken prisoner. Every time he saw her, Firepaw's thoughts flashed back to the scene right after the fight, when his sister had whispered something in her captor's ear that had made him smile so cruelly.

"We're here," Smokefoot's malicious voice whispered in Firepaw's ear. The ginger apprentice was snapped out of his thoughts as the rushing of the river that surrounded TigerClan camp hit his ears. Though the merry gurgling would normally be a happy, comforting sound, at that moment, it sounded like the gong of death.

The four cats were forced across the stepping stones, pushed and shoved just as roughly as they had been on land. When they finally reached the island, it seemed as if the entire Clan had gathered to see their imprisonment. Dozens of eyes burned into the Firepaw's fur, making him duck his head in shame. He absolutely hated to be the center of attention, and this was the most attention he had ever received.

When the young tom gathered the strength to look up again, he saw that all of Hawkstar's supporters were glaring at him with anger and hatred on their face. But these fierce stares were rivalled by the looks of sympathy and regret he was receiving from both the rebels, and the cats who hated Hawkstar but were too afraid to stand up against him.

Firepaw was snapped out of his thoughts as a cat's tail suddenly flew up in front of him, and he narrowly avoided walking straight into it. Though the tail itself was harmless, walking through it would be considered an act of disobedience, and he would be killed immediately for it.

The prisoners were forced into a single file line as low, poorly concealed snickers echoed around them. Then, with a single jostle from Rowanclaw at the back of the line, the four cats were pushed into a dark, low-ceilinged den with the thickest bramble walls Firepaw had ever seen in his life.

"Welcome to the prison den," whispered a malicious voice behind the captives. Suddenly, there was a great rumbling from outside, and a huge boulder was pushed in front of the entrance, plunging the den into pure darkness.

All four cats stayed deadly silent for longer than any of them dared to count, too shocked and bewildered to do anything but stare into the black depths of the den before them. Finally, Blackpaw spoke.

"Well, this sucks," he meowed, his voice sounding like an avalanche after the silence that preceded it. There was a quiet rustling sound as somebody sat down on the mossy floor, but nobody else spoke. Blackpaw had said it all.

"Who's there?" a voice suddenly hissed from the back of the den, nearly making Firepaw jump out of his skin. Beside him, one of the prisoners - the ginger tom thought it was Stormfur - stiffened in shock.

"Appletail?" the stocky gray tom meowed in astonishment. Firepaw's jaw dropped in amazement. On the other side of the den, Blackpaw and Nightpaw gasped. They had only heard the she-cat's name mentioned twice before, and the first time, Hawkstar had announced to both Clans that she was dead.

"Stormfur? Is that you?" Appletail whispered hoarsely, all hostility gone from her voice.

"It is," Stormfur meowed, rushing towards the she-cat's voice, the moss rustling loudly under his paws. "I can't believe you're alive! I thought you were dead! Everyone did!"

Firepaw blinked in surprise. This was the first time he had ever heard Stormfur sound truly happy, even though they were trapped in this StarClan-forsaken prison. It revealed a whole new side to the bulky gray tom.

"Everyone thought I was dead," Appletail meowed dryly. "Only Hawkstar and Blackclaw knew the truth, and they tried their hardest to conceal it from everyone."

Her words reminded Firepaw of the story Leafpool had just told him and his siblings, and a lump rose up in his throat.

"But why?" Stormfur meowed. "Why didn't they just kill you?"

"Those two aren't mouse-brained, Stormfur." Appletail's voice was bitter. "They saw how half of HawkClan was more loyal to me than to Hawkstar. By pretending I was dead, they hoped to regain control over all of the Clan."

"That still doesn't explain why they didn't kill you."

"Stormfur, how thick is your skull?" Appletail hissed. "All along, he has been planning to reveal my existence to the Clan. He believes that my supposed death has destroyed the rebels will, and that it will be easy to use me against them. He obviously still doesn't know that I appointed Mosspelt as my successor, or he would have killed me long ago."

Stormfur let out a grieved sigh from somewhere in the blackness. "Mosspelt is dead, Appletail."

The she-cat gasped. "May she rest well in StarClan," she whispered. "Who leads the rebels now?"

"Beechfur."

"I always thought he would be a great leader. The rebels are in good paws."

For all this time, Firepaw, Blackpaw and Nightpaw hadn't said a word or moved a muscle, nor had they been acknowledged by the two conversing cats. But now, Appletail turned her head towards them, and Firepaw could see two golden eyes peering curiously at him in the darkness.

"Who are your friends?" she meowed.

There was another rustle as Stormfur padded back towards them. "Appletail, I would like you to meet, Firepaw, Blackpaw and Nightpaw," he meowed proudly, touching all of them on the shoulder with each introduction. Appletail sucked in a breath at their names, but said nothing.

"Aren't you the cat that founded the rebels? The one that Hawkstar said was dead?" Blackpaw asked from wherever he was sitting in the black prison den. Firepaw thought it was kind of obvious after the conversation that had just passed, but his brother had always been a bit of an airhead.

"That I am," the she-cat replied, a smile evident in her voice. "How do you know?"

"Beechfur was talking about you at the last meeting. He said you were the founder of the group," Blackpaw replied.

Appletail nodded slowly. She was about to say something, when suddenly the rock blocking the entrance rolled out of the way and light flooded into the den. Firepaw closed his eyes and turned away, unused to the brightness.

"Nightpaw, Hawkstar wishes to see you," meowed a deep voice that Firepaw recognized as Oakfur.

Nightpaw stood slowly without a word and began to pad towards the den entrance. At first, Firepaw thought she wasn't saying anything because she was so terrified, but as he looked closer, he realized she wasn't scared at all. In fact, she seemed to be walking towards her impending doom with confidence, her head held high. No matter how oddly his sister had been acting lately, Firepaw admired her for that.

Once Nightpaw left the den, Firepaw saw a patrol of warriors surround her and begin to escort her towards Hawkstar's den. Just like before, she seemed to be walking of her own free will - there didn't seem to be any sign of reluctance or fear in her stride.

When she had nearly reached Hawkstar's den, Oakfur stepped in the way, blocking Firepaw's field of view, and glared icily at all four cats, his eyes narrowed. "Scum."

Before anybody could retort, there was a loud grunt from outside, and the boulder was rolled in front of the entrance once more, bathing the prison den in blackness.

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A week passed in the horrible den with no sign of Nightpaw. Though the captives tried to escape their prison, it was virtually impossible. The bramble walls were much too thick to penetrate, and the boulder was too heavy for the four weakening cats to push.

The first full day in the den was spent worrying about Nightpaw and her fate, lying dejectedly on the den floor, and trying to catch at least a morsel of sleep. The prisoners exchanged few words, but Firepaw was glad for their company anyways. He was baffled by how Appletail had survived for so long here by herself. It must have been terribly lonely. The young tom doubted he could have kept his sanity, with only his thoughts to keep him company.

The next day, the four cats began to worry about Nightpaw even more. Was she dead? If not, where was she? Was Hawkstar going to pick them off one by one? As anxious as they were, the cats still spoke little, though in the periods that followed these short conversations, they were forced to listen to Blackpaw's pining. It almost sounded like the whining of a dog.

On the third day, Firepaw began to notice a pattern to life in the prison den. Every morning, the guards would switch, and the warriors that were awake by that time would roll the rock out of the way to make sure the captives hadn't escaped. After that, the cats were left to their own devices until sunhigh, when the guard would throw in a scrawny mouse for each of them. Though the meal was hardly enough to sate Firepaw's voracious hunger, it was still the highlight of his mind-numbing, monotonous days trapped in the blackness. It was at this time that the prisoners talked the most, when they had a little more energy than usual. At sunset, the guards would switch again for the night, and Firepaw would fall asleep to dream of better days.

By the fourth day, all four of the cats had accepted Nightpaw's fate. They wished her a safe trip to StarClan, and bowed their heads in a short vigil for the black she-cat. Then, after their miniscule meal that sunhigh, the cats began to tell each other stories. Some stories were real, stories about the terrible actions of Bramblestar and Hawkstar as well as stories of a better time, when there were four Clans instead of one. Others were made-up stories, invented to teach a lesson, or to give the cats who heard them hope.

The fifth and sixth days passed similarly to the fourth. However, the seventh day turned to out to be their last, when the thing they feared most came to be.

"…and then Feathertail jumped," Stormfur was saying, a grieved expression crossing his face. "Crowfeather and I screamed at her to stop, but she didn't listen. She grabbed onto the pointy piece of rock that was hanging off of the cave's roof. It cracked away under her weight, falling right onto Sharptooth's head, and Feathertail fell with it. We found her on the ground beside Sharptooth's body, already dead. We were all devastated - especially Crowfeather - but the Tribe assured us they would give her a special burial for killing their most hated memory."

"Feathertail sounds like she was a great cat," Appletail meowed softly, placing her tail on the gray tom's shoulder.

"She was," Stormfur said with a sigh, hanging his head. Before anybody could say anything else, a familiar rumbling sounded from outside the den, and the boulder rolled out of the way.

It must be sun-high, Firepaw thought happily. I'm starving.

But instead of a scrawny mouse being thrown his way, accompanied by an insult of some sort, four cats stepped inside, looking uncomfortable in the blackness. Firepaw recognized their leader as Blackclaw, the TigerClan deputy.

"Stormfur, Blackpaw and Firepaw, Hawkstar wishes to see you," the brawny black tom growled, his amber eyes glowing in the darkness. The patrol surrounded the prisoners and began forcing them out of the den. In their weakened state, the three captives had to comply.

"Bye, Appletail," Firepaw whispered as he passed the she-cat.

"Good luck, Firepaw," she replied quietly, brushing his shoulder with her tail. "I'll miss you."

Firepaw was about to reply when one of the warriors shoved him away. "Get going, scum," the huge tom growled, and Firepaw realized it was Rowanclaw, one of the cats who had originally captured him and his siblings. Suppressing a shiver, he skittered away from the bulky warrior and stepped outside of the prison den for the first time in a week.

The light blinded the young tom's eyes, and he was forced to turn his head and close his eyes. He knew if he had stayed in that horrible dark place for any longer than he had, he wouldn't have been able to stand the sudden brightness of the world around him. He didn't know how Appletail would survive if she was ever revealed to the Clan, having been trapped in the den for more than a moon.

When Firepaw was finally able to open his eyes again, he saw that only Hawkstar's supporters were standing in the open with sneers on their lips. However, he could also see members of the rebel group, slinking in the shadows, and slowly moving towards Hawkstar's den. Hope swelled in Firepaw's heart. Maybe they were going to help the captives, possibly even save them from death.

Hawkstar's den was a hollowed out log on the far side of the camp. When Firepaw stepped inside, his eyes widened in amazement. The space inside the log was much bigger than Bramblestar's old cave above the Highledge, able to fit many cats at a time. Shells, ivy and sparkly pieces of Twoleg trash decorated the walls, and moss was laid out in a line from the door to Hawkstar's nest at the other end.

Two cats sat guarding the den's entrance on the inside - Firepaw recognized them as Pouncetail and Owlwhisker. On Hawkstar's left was Ashfur, watching his kits sadly, but with that same cold gleam Firepaw recognized from his time as Bramblestar's deputy. And in his nest at the very back was Hawkstar himself. He seemed even bigger than usual, his muscles sticking out from under his pelt and rippling with every movement. His dark tabby fur shone, and his ice blue eyes seemed to freeze everything in their sight.

However, none of these caught his attention at all. Instead, he stared in shock at a small she-cat who sat at Hawkstar's right, looking like a flea next to his bulk.

Her pure black coat had been groomed nicely since he had last seen her, and it gleamed just as Hawkstar's did. She even seemed to have a grown a little - her figure was more muscled, more adult. But it was her expression that scared Firepaw the most. It was a look he had only seen in the two most evil cats to ever set foot around the lake. He had never expected to see it on anyone else, especially on a young she-cat.

That she-cat was Nightpaw.