CHAPTER 15-The Truth About the Boneyard

After the battle, there were still new, fresh prey carcasses day after day.

Just when I thought there would be another war, the prey-stealing abruptly stopped all of a sudden.

I thought it was strange, but at the same time, I was relieved.

Dewpaw avoided me after the incident. He wasn't exactly rude, but he had stopped talking to me. His ears were flattened against his head and his tail was low.

One morning, I was sharing fresh-kill with Snowpaw in the clearing when Dewpaw chose a mouse from the fresh-kill pile and plunked down next to me. He didn't say anything, and averted my gaze. His tail swished uneasily behind him.

"Dewpaw…?" I asked. What did he want?

Without looking at me, he mewed quietly, "So…thanks for saving my life there. On that cliff. Well…I know I haven't been particularly nice to you, so…I guess it's alright if you hate me." He scuffled his paws and ducked his head lower.

"I never hated you," I said, surprised.

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The lost souls occupied my mind for most of the time. Their urging became more desperate. Sometimes, at night, I could hear their whispers and wails in my ears. The back of neck would prickle, and they would keep me up all night.

My heart would throb, as if I felt guilty that I didn't help them.

They depended on me to save them, somehow.

Finally, one day, I decided I would do something about it.

I mewed to Millie, "I'm going for a walk."

She furrowed her brow. "Alright, then. But be careful of the foxes. They're everywhere now."

I nodded, and trotted out of the camp. The sun shone brightly on a cloudless day as I tried to find my way to the Boneyard.

I didn't want to go there. I really didn't. But I kept hearing the lost soul's voices over and over in my head, and my ears couldn't get a moment's rest.

The color began to drain from the sky as I neared the place. The sun simmered down to a ball of ice. The ground turned as dry as bone, and the black rocks poked out of the ground like claws.

Dead trees lined my path. A cold wind whispered, and I felt my hackles rise.

For some reason, this place set my teeth on edge. I was desperate to get away, but the voices of the spirits moaned clearly.

The Darklings. They sleep not, I remembered them say.

I spun around, looking every which way, but I was certain that I was alone.

The Boneyard.

The birds had stopped singing, and the pale sun glared at me. I shivered again with the cold that had somehow seeped from the ground into the marrow in my bones.

"Hello? Where are you?" I whispered. The spirits had stopped murmuring in my ears and all I heard was silence.

"Hello?" I looked around the dead land. Dust rose up and made me sneeze.

Where were the lost souls? How could I help them if they didn't tell me what I had to do?

I decided that I would wait for a few more minutes, and if nothing happened, I would go back.

The temperature here was freezing. I was certain that I would get hypothermia, and I shuddered violently.

A wind blew aggressively. It tore the ragged leaves from the branches and sent dirt whirling up from the ground. I backed away.

Eventually, the wind died down and I could see that it brushed some of the dust away.

I gasped. Underneath the dust, were piles and piles of bones. They must have stretched for miles underground. But why were they here?

I shuddered in disgust and took a step backwards. My paw brushed against the dry skeletons and I flinched. The bone disintegrated into a fine white powder.

The bones must be ancient. How long had they been here? For hundreds and hundreds of years, they had stayed buried deep under the sooty dirt, until now.

My heart lurched violently. I had to leave.

Something pounded in the undergrowth. I whirled around, my breath coming in gasps. Were the Darklings there?

A began to back away from the figure nervously, but then froze when I heard a voice call, "Wait, Ashley! It's only me!"

Snowpaw. What was he doing here?

The white apprentice bounded forward to stand in front of me. He hissed quietly, "I saw you leave camp, and I was worried that the foxes would find you, so I followed. What are you doing here?" His ears were laid back tightly against his head. His fur was fluffed out until he looked twice his size, and I realized that he was truly scared. About what?

"I…I was…" My voice trailed off. He'd only laugh at me if I told him that the spirits of lost cats were calling me.

He turned around and beckoned me with his tail. "Come on. We need to get out of here," he growled.

But I wasn't sure I should leave. Not yet. And what was so bad about the Boneyard anyway? Sure, it was creepy, but why was he so nervous about it?

I sensed something moving somewhere nearby, and something told me that it wasn't a cat. In my mind, I saw something large, black, and bulky, with sharp glinting eyes, needle-like teeth, and a stone for a heart. It maneuvered quickly among the rocks like a liquid patch of night.

It was coming closer, and for some reason, my heart was seized in a panic. I quickly bolted away with Snowpaw hard on my heels.

We sprinted past the rocks, past the endless dust with the ancient bones buried beneath it, and past the inky black thing.

The creature hurried towards us, and even though I could only see flashes of it winding between the trees, I knew that it was following us. It was something dark and foreboding. But the feeling was slight and not really there, like the sensation of the rains sloshing in the clouds but not really raining, or the feeling of thunder crackling and not actually striking the ground.

It sent my nerves in a frenzy. Snowpaw hurried behind me, his breath coming in large gasps.

I was getting tired. My paws pounded heavily against the earth as I began to slow down. Even though we were far away from the Boneyard by now, I could still sense the Darkling out there somewhere, keeping pace with us.

My paws were feeling heavy. I was running out of breath.

Snowpaw nudged me and tried to hurry me on. He was much too scared to say anything.

Just when I thought the creature of night would take us, the trees suddenly sighed. The branches rustled, and it sounded like millions of voices whispering. Dry rain fell from the bark.

And, then, all of a sudden, the Darkling was gone. It was there for one second, and suddenly it was not.

Snowpaw and I raced back into the camp as fast we could run.

Cinderheart's eyes widened when she saw us, with our fur ruffled and panting.

"Goodness. What happened?" she asked.

Snowpaw lied, "Uh…nothing really. Something spooked us in the woods, but now that I think of it, it could have just been an owl."

After I had regained my strength, I quickly urged him behind the warriors' den, where we could talk without anyone noticing.

I asked, "What's so bad about the Boneyard? And what are Darklings?"

He looked away and shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. It's just some folktale." He began to walk away, but I stepped in front of him and blocked his path.

I meowed, "Come on, Snowpaw. I know you know about it. Please tell me. I need to know."

He stared at me with his cold amber eyes. He looked angry for some reason.

I was surprised when he roughly pushed me aside and began to saunter away.

"First, you explain to me why you were there in the first place!" he yelled. "You could've gotten killed."

I blinked, startled. Why was he so angry? Was the Boneyard really such a dangerous place?

Soft pawsteps came up behind me, and I turned around to see Dewpaw. He lowered his gaze and muttered, "I'll…I'll tell you everything. It's the least I can do in return for you saving my life."

My eyes widened in amazement. This was the part of Dewpaw that I had never seen before. But what if it was all just a trap?

I gazed at him closely. His ears were down and his tail hung limply behind him. He looked somehow smaller than before. No, he was telling the truth.

He said briskly, "I can't tell you here. There's too many people listening. Follow me."

He led me to the training hollow. It was empty at the moment, so we were the only cats there.

I looked around to make sure that no cat was eavesdropping, and then turned to face me. He took a deep breath, and mewed, "The Boneyard is a place that is shunned by all the Clans. All cats know about it, but few are willing to talk. No living thing dares to tread across its cursed earth, and even StarClan stays away from it. It is a place of misery and despair, where nightmarish creatures lurk and where the echoes of the fallen cease to ebb away. If you brush away the dirt and dust, you'll find ancient bone that stretches out for miles underneath the ground. They're cat's bones. No one knows why they're there.

"The Darlings lurk in the Boneyard. They are strange creatures, made out of spite and misery, and tears and gore. They prey and feast on the souls of the living who are unlucky enough to venture too far into the Boneyard. They use their long, spindly claws to reap them, and their teeth snap and crackle like the sound of splintering bone. Sometimes, if you're foolish enough to stay and lean closely towards them, you can hear them murmuring in soft and hoarse voices. They never sleep.

"There's something about the forest that keeps them away and locks them tight into the Boneyard. However, I've noticed that they've gotten more restless and are venturing further and further into the woods."

He blinked. "That's why you shouldn't go there ever again. It's really risky."

I asked, "How do you know about all this?"

He shrugged. "All of the Clan cats know. But they hardly ever dare to talk about it. I heard about it once from my parents, a long time ago. The elders talk about sometimes too. But only very rarely."

I wondered if I should trust him or not.

Dewpaw tipped his head to one side and squinted at me. "You were in the Boneyard, weren't you?" he asked. "How come the Darklings were too slow to take you? Usually there aren't many survivors."

He suddenly looked embarrassed, and then turned and sprinted away. I watched him go.

So Snowpaw had been worried about me. My heart warmed at the thought.

The white tom was chatting with Seedpaw when I finally found him.

His ears twitched, but other than that, he ignored me completely. Seedpaw gave me a quizzical look.

The she-cat heaved herself to her paws and mewed brightly, "Well, see you later Snowpaw."

"Bye," mewed the tom.

I stood a little distance away, watching him, hoping silently in my mind that he would forgive me and start talking to me again. I felt too shy to approach him directly.

My hopes fell when he padded away without even glancing at me. So he was still mad.

I tried to comfort myself. He just needed some time to cool down, I insisted. He'll talk to me tomorrow.