Chapter 26
Her pale blue eyes blinked against the sunlight as she emerged from the apprentice's den. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders, telling her that she was training too hard. She knew that stopping her training would only make her look weak. She was stronger than any other apprentice she shared the den with. Powerful muscles pulsed beneath a thick blanket of tortoiseshell and white fur. Her paws were larger than most she-cats, giving her another edge in battle.
And intelligence, that's something else I need, she thought. She was already intelligent compared to her denmates, but that wasn't saying much. They were all fools to think that StarClan existed. Sooner or later her father would find out, and that would be the end of her competition.
She padded across the open clearing, feeling confident with each stride she took. The fresh-kill pile was still large despite the bitter cold of leafbare. With so many hunters around and less time spent patrolling the borders, hunting parties could be sent out more often. She chose a large looking mouse from the fresh-kill pile. It's warmth told her that it had been freshly killed.
Satisfaction filled her belly as warm blood seeped between her tongue. It was the first time in days since she'd eaten. She chose not to eat, not as punishment, but as a way to make herself stronger. If there was ever a time when fresh-kill was unavailable, she could afford to bide her time. The others around her were not aware of her plans, as she had sent the fresh-kill she caught to the edge of camp. The fresh-kill she left had attracted something else that caught her attention.
Rogues could easily be used against the Clans, even loners, she decided after cleaning her whiskers. If I gathered enough maybe…. Her wistful thoughts were shattered when she heard the sound of approaching pawsteps.
"I need your help." A voice as cold and familiar as the day's air made her look up. "Only you can do this. No other cat is loyal enough." Blue eyes met pale blue eyes as Ghoststar looked down at his daughter. "You are the strongest apprentice in the Clan, and by that, I need you to run a little errand for me."
"And by that you mean?" She tilted her head to one side in mock confusion. She already knew what he had in mind. Killing was the only thing he thought about; taking care of enemies and keeping those that opposed him away.
"You know exactly what I mean." He bared his fangs for a moment, revealing rows of sharp white teeth.
"It's her, isn't it?" The apprentice felt smug as she imagined the anger her father must have felt. "Why do you hate her so much?"
"She is too similar to someone I once knew," he replied. "Someone I killed many seasons ago."
She would have liked to point out that he was only a few seasons old, but that would have only gotten her in trouble. With a rueful sigh, she rose to her paws.
"I want you to kill her, and bring her body back to me," Ghoststar growled. "And if you don't…. You know what will happen." His claws scraped against the ground, sending chills down her spine.
I know exactly what he means, she thought. If I don't come back, it will make him look weak.
"I will go," she mewed, raising her chin to show her pride.
"Good, that is all I can ask for." With a wave of his tail, she dashed off towards the camp's entrance.
Anger coursed through her when she saw Winterpaw standing in front of the entrance. The apprentice kept her gaze firm when she watched the tortoiseshell's eyes blaze.
"You'll need traveling herbs," Winterpaw murmured.
"I need no such thing!" she spat. "I've trained myself to not feel hunger." Her eyes blazed with fire as she glared at Winterpaw, who dropped into a crouch of submission. "Get out of my way!"
Winterpaw trembled slightly as she shoved the apprentice aside. She was determined to show the Clan that she was stronger than any of them. She had to fulfill her father's wishes. It was the only way she could prove herself a worthy warrior, and leader.
. . .
Rocky outcrops towered above the tortoiseshell as she staggered across the landscape. Her paws dragged across the stone, leaving behind smears of blood. She had been traveling for two days now, picking up traces of scents that could lead her to her target. Now she had reached what appeared to be mountain ranges. High peeks rose into the sky as if to reach for the sun. An eagle cried in the distance, telling her that she had been spotted.
Frustration swelled within her as she continued creeping along the stony ground. Her paws had been cut up by the rough terrain, which explained the blood smears. She looked down at the path she had taken. It was obvious that she would have to stop soon.
And that means I have made myself look weak, she thought glumly. Maybe staying here wouldn't be a bad idea. There's lots of prey if you know where to look. She had seen voles skirting across small crevices and birds building nests between openings. If she managed to catch a single prey within four days, she would have it made here. But the Clan would forget about me. I can't let that happen.
Her muscles shook with anger. She could hear a river roaring in the distance. The river told her that life would be nearby. Perhaps that was where the enemy of her father hid. She could travel a little longer. Her paws didn't matter. What mattered was providing her father with what he longed for the most: Revenge.
. . .
She had managed to reach the gorge. Another day had passed, and she found herself hiding in the few shrubs that covered the rocky area. She hadn't realized how close she was to the forest. This was where PebbleClan had once ruled. The river itself was fed by what some cats called the Moonstream. She'd seen it a few times while leaping from rock to rock, ignoring the searing pain in her muscles.
She could hear voices soaring above the river's roar. Rich scents of feline told her that there was a family living nearby. Her keen ears traveled to where the source of the noise came from.
Above the hill were sets of caves. She thought they would make the perfect den. Her paws still felt heavy like they were made of stones, but she was determined to move forward. Just a few more paces and she would find out who lived here. Maybe she would find the one who betrayed Ghoststar. He had said that she looked just like him, only her eyes were darker, and she had silvery gray fur rather then pale white fur.
"Don't get too close to the edge!" An alarming mew made the tortoiseshell flinch in midstep. She peered over the boulder's edge to see who was speaking.
A pale brown she-cat with a bright orange tail was watching an unusually large litter. Four kits were playing around the gorge's edge. The pale brown cat was keeping a keen eye on them, making sure none of them got too close. A pale ginger kit with darker ginger patches towered above his littermates. The tortoiseshell found herself grinning.
What an easy kill this could be, she thought. I have the advantage. I could easily jump on the pale one's back and subdue her. As for her kits, they would easily fall into the gorge.
Yet she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as she watched the happy family. She had never known what it was like to live in a family. Her father had always treated her like an outcast. Her mother had died the day after she became an apprentice, executed in front of the Clan.
She finally wrenched her gaze away as she looked at the setting sun. She would spend a few more days around this area. Perhaps the one that betrayed Ghoststar would find these cats. She had once been part of the old Clans. Maybe the one who betrayed Ghoststar still had family ties.
. . .
The tortoiseshell had been watching the family for a few days now. By now the snow had been melted, replacing the rocky boulders with slick water. She had trouble keeping a footing on the boulders, but she managed to keep on top. Her gaze was focused on the gray she-cat that had just emerged from one of the caves. This cat had tufts of silvery fur along her pelt, signaling that she the one who betrayed Ghoststar.
Her fangs were bared in a vicious snarl as she tried to decide when she would strike. The gray one was the one who had mothered those kits. The pale brown cat known as Embertail had only been watching them. She knew the kits were the ones that would mark her victory. If she could get her claws on a single kit, the mother would come after them. The mother would give her own life to save the kits, who would also be killed. This Embertail cat had once been part of a Clan, which meant she could be killed as well.
"Leopard, have you noticed anything strange about the gorge lately?" The pale gray cat had just said a name. A hiss sounded from the tortoiseshell's throat when she saw an orange cat emerge from the bushes. He rubbed his muzzle against the pale gray cat's affectionately, like they had not seen one another for some time.
"I've been scouting the edge of the border for some time now," he replied. "There seems to be an intruder around the area, but I'm not sure if it's Archer or another rogue."
Who is Archer? The tortoiseshell tilted her head to one side. He must be some enemy of this Leopard, she decided after crouching low to the boulder.
"Do you recognize their scent?" Worry edged in the pale gray cat's voice.
"No." Leopard shook his head. "It seems this rogue wants to make a home here."
A snarl of rage filled the tortoiseshell's lungs. How dare he call her a rogue? She was born of pure Clan blood, and nothing else!
Leopard looked up at the boulder she was hiding on in suspicion. She felt her ears flatten as she realized she had given herself away. One powerful leap and he would stand in front of her. She couldn't let him catch her yet. She had to break the one who betrayed her father. She had to make the one who betrayed Ghoststar suffer before she was murdered.
The tortoiseshell padded away, climbing down the boulder in the opposite direction. The cats that were living in the gorge must have known that she was there. She was biding her time, waiting for the perfect chance to make everyone suffer.
Her paws carried her towards what appeared to be a den dug up by a large predator. A badger must have made the den, but the scent was stale. She looked up cautiously before slipping into the den for the night. Tomorrow would be fun. She would find a way to break the one who betrayed her father. And she would enjoy it.
. . .
She opened her eyes at the faintest signs of dawn. A bird was singing as it flew over the gorge. The tortoiseshell stretched out her back and calmly stepped out of the makeshift den. Annoyance flared within her when she realized that dirt and mud were caked over her fur. The time for cleaning would have to wait. She needed to find that ginger and darker ginger cat known as Leopard. He would lead her to the kits, and that would mean she could finally get what she had come to the gorge for.
Her tail lashed from side to side as she kept a firm gaze on the path ahead. The pale gray she-cat must have gone out for a drink. She could see Leopard pacing around the cave's entrance where the kits were sleeping.
A wild grin spread across her face as she stepped forward. She could see that one of the kits—a small pale gray tom—had emerged from the cave. Curious blue eyes peered through the cave's entrance as the kit padded into Leopard's leg.
"Why don't you show yourself, rogue?" Leopard's growl was low and vicious, telling her that she had been caught. The kit squealed in surprise at his father's sudden aggression.
"I was wondering when you would catch me." She kept her voice an icy calm as she approached him like a snake.
His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw her for the first time. "You're barely a kit out of the nursery!" His exclamation made her fur stand on end with outrage.
"I am more than just a kit," she spat. "I have been trained in ways that would make your fur crawl with fear." Amusement gleamed within Leopard's eyes, but the amusement vanished when the kit suddenly bounded ahead of him.
"Who are you?" he squeaked.
Without another word she lunged forward. The kit barely had time to react as her teeth latched around his throat. Leopard gaped at her in horror as the kit struggled for a tiny heartbeat. Blood seeped between her teeth, telling her that she wanted more.
"Now do you fear me?" She looked up at Leopard, expecting to see hate within his green eyes. She was surprised to see that the look of horror had been replaced with pure rage.
The larger cat suddenly drew out a claw, swiping it across the air. His claws had barely missed her whiskers as she jumped back, letting the body of the kit sink to the ground.
"No, but I pity you," he snarled venomously. "You've been taught things you shouldn't have." With that he lunged forward, claws unsheathed as he prepared for a death blow.
The tortoiseshell saw the move coming and dodged neatly to the side. A mad grin spread across her face as she gave his back leg a scratch with one of her sharpened claws. She knew that the wound would leave him breathless. Pain gleamed within his eyes as he whirled around to face her.
"I am more than just a thing to be pitied," she growled.
Without another word she leaped onto his back, though he was much larger than the cats she was used to fighting, she managed to get a grip. He tried to shake her off and had even tried crushing her, but she held on with dear might.
Eventually Leopard collapsed on the ground in exhaustion. His shoulders heaved with effort as she jumped off of his back. Excitement gleamed within her own eyes when she saw that he was defeated. She glared down at him as she bared her fangs in one last snarl.
"Tell me, what is it like to live in a family?" she asked coldly.
"You…will never…know…." The words came out slowly and surely. She blinked several heartbeats in confusion.
I guess it's true then, she thought.
She leaned forward and gave him a killing bite. His body convulsed for a few heartbeats until his final breath was taken. The slightest feeling of regret made her look back at the lifeless bodies that now covered the ground. The other kits were still hiding, too terrified to see what had happened.
This will make the one who betrayed my father suffer greatly, she told herself. After this, she will beg for death.
Her paws carried her across the gorge, away from the cave where the bodies were laid. She knew that returning to the Clan was not an option at the moment. Eventually she would kill the one who betrayed her father. But that time was not now.
. . .
Night had fallen by the time she left the gorge. She would not return. Leopard's last words had troubled her deeply after she left. She knew that he was right—she would never know what it was like to feel loved or wanted. A family was something that she had never known.
"Is this what you wanted for me?" she asked out loud. "A life with no knowledge of love or compassion?"
She had been compassionate towards her training, that much was true. But every other bit of her life had been spent learning how to kill. She knew nothing of love. Her father had ensured that she would never understand the meaning of the word.
Once again she found herself padding across the mountains that she spent so much time during her journey to the gorge. She had never cared for hunting in the forest, but out here she preferred the open territory. Now she could make a living here on her own.
Living life as a loner. Perhaps that was always to be her destiny. Perhaps there was no other way to live. And if that was the case, she would live like a loner without complaining.
A/N: -Hides behind rock- Please don't kill me! I've been planning those deaths since the beginning of the story! And in case you haven't figured it out by now, the main character in this chapter was Fernpaw. She's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, isn't she? Quite the fun character to write about, even if she is the main cause behind the other half of this story. Anyways, thanks to wolfwing of treeclan for reviewing!