Don't Be Afraid to Fly

by Alex-the-RiderXx

A normal Warriors fan wakes up as a cat, and she journeys to ThunderClan. New friends and enemies are made, allies are forged, and a new prophecy has taken flight. The fate of the Clans must now rest on her shoulders, but does she have what it takes to be a warrior that is strong and loyal, brave and true? Takes place after The Last Hope. Check out the sequel, Eye of the Storm!

67. Chapter 66-With Wings of Fire

CHAPTER 66-With Wings of Fire

A pair of amber eyes, narrowed into glowing slits, hovered in the darkness of the dripping cavern. It crept silently on quiet paws, and was immediately followed by more eyes: pairs of emerald and blue.

Cloverstream took up the end of the group, and in her jaws dangled her newborn kits, asleep and snuggled up against the tendrils of her warm chest fur.

Spottedpaw led the way. The tiny apprentice kept glancing around nervously, at Dewstep, at the kits, around the walls of the tunnels, as if his eyes were restless.

Heathertail growled softly as they trudged through the darkness. "He could be leading us into a trap," she hissed sharply into Dewstep's ear.

Dewstep's whiskers twitched, but he said nothing. If Spottedpaw really was leading them to their doom, then at least they would die trying to save the cats. That was better than dying for nothing.

They turned a corner, and Spottedpaw beckoned to them with his tail. They followed silently.

They padded into an empty cell.

The apprentice's eyes widened when Reedwhisker rounded on him, snarling. "There's no one in here! You were supposed to show us where the other cats were being kept."

Heathertail growled, "So it was a trap after all."

The apprentice cowered in front of the two looming warriors. "N-no! I did-didn't know it was empty!" He looked like a startled rabbit staring in front of the headlights of a monster.

Reedwhisker unsheathed his claws and prepared to lunge. Dewstep hissed and dove in front of him, his ears flattened against his head.

The RiverClan deputy glared down at him. "Move," he said coldly.

Dewstep glowered back, eyes as sharp and hard as two pieces of flint. "I know he's done some things that he shouldn't have," he meowed, as calmly as he could. "But killing him isn't going to right his wrongs. We are going to get every cat out of here, and I will make sure that no one gets left behind." His voice hardened. "Do you hear me?"

Reedwhisker hesitated, ears swiveling around his head, before he gave one last growl and turned away. His tail swept across the ground in frustration.

Spottedpaw suddenly stiffened, the hair along his back rising.

"What's wrong?" Dewstep asked urgently.

The apprentice began to tremble, his green eyes as wide as moons. He swallowed thickly, squeezed his eyes shut, and then opened them again. "Th…they're coming."

Was it just his imagination, or did Dewstep hear a tiny beat of pawsteps echoing through the tunnel?

"Get inside the cell," he ordered.

"But—"

"Just do it!"

Not allowing any of them to protest again, he shoved them inside the cramped, damp burrow and huddled deep inside the shadows.

He could feel something poking him in the back; Cloverstream's paw, probably. He tried not to sneeze as Heathertail's whiskers brushed across his nose.

One of the kits mewled softly and he shifted with sudden alarm, wondering if he had accidently crushed it. Cloverstream hushed it and it went silent again.

Dewstep could hear the quick beat of his heart pounding in his chest and the cats breathing around him. It was so quiet that he wondered if, maybe, that he had only imagined the sound of the pawsteps.

And then he heard it: two sets of claws, tapping lightly against the ground. He wiggled further into the back of the empty cell, hoping that the shadows would conceal him.

Two badgers lumbered into view, their white and black pelts slightly dusty and their black eyes narrowed with hatred. Their long claws glistened in the half-light, as sharp and narrow as razors. Their bodies were plump and slightly fat, but they were sturdily built like bears, capable of dislodging boulders from the ground as if they were nothing but pebbles.

They stopped right in front of the cell and tipped their heads back, nostrils flaring as they scented the air. One of them snorted and muttered something gruffly.

Spottedpaw whimpered and quaked with fear. Dewstep rested a tail-tip on his shoulder, comforting him.

The badgers narrowed their eyes into slits. They knew.

Suddenly, as though she had scented the wild musk of the badgers, Frostkit parted her jaws and wailed.

All of the cats immediately leaped to their paws and faced the two enemies, backs arched into bridges and jaws parted into fierce hisses.

The badgers swung their heads around aggressively and huffed.

Dewstep knew that the badgers weren't afraid. Why should they be? Five cats against two badgers was nothing to them, as one swing from those huge paws could break bone.

Dewstep quickly glanced at his surroundings out of the corner of his gaze. Spottedpaw was trembling like a leaf next to him. The others looked equally terrified, as if they had laid eyes on a corpse. Cloverstream swept her tail protectively around the kits, although her breath was coming in panicked gasps.

The badgers slowly lumbered toward them, taking their time, eyes glittering and mouths turned into twisted grins.

Their claws itched to sink into cat flesh.

The raw fear settled itself into Dewstep's heart but he tried to shake it away. I have to be strong, he thought. For the Clans, and Shadefrost and Snowstorm. It's up to me now.

He willed his heart to calm down, and then mewed quietly to Spottedpaw, "You've been in these tunnels for moons, haven't you?"

The apprentice stood frozen and rigid in his place, but he would have nodded if he could.

"Right, then. You know the ins and outs of this place," Dewstep whispered, never taking his gaze off of the advancing enemies. "I need you to take the cats and lead them out of the tunnels. I'll try to hold these brutes off for as long as I can."

Spottedpaw looked absolutely petrified. "B-but…"

Dewstep roared, "Just do it!"

He unsheathed his claws and flexed his muscles, and then everything seemed to move in slow motion. Come on. You can do this. You have nothing to lose.

His eyes widened, and for a brief second, fear flashed in his amber gaze. Who am I kidding? I've got everything to lose.

Without pausing, without faltering or hesitating, he bunched up his hind legs and hurled himself at the black and white demons, almost taking pleasure in the surprise he saw in their tiny eyes.

He sank his claws into wiry white fur, and then bit down as hard as he could, hard enough to strike bone.

OoOOoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOOoOoOoooOOo

One large claw smacked into the tom's side and he staggered back, screeching in pain. The second badger began to stroll toward the other cats, but he growled and leaped in front of it.

Spottedpaw stood rooted to the spot. Oh, StarClan, please, he thought, hoping that the heavenly warriors were still watching over him despite all the things he had done.

He slowly shifted one paw and broke the trance.

"C-Come on!" he meowed to the others. "You have to go!"

The kits screamed when one of the badgers bellowed, loud enough to shake the walls. Dirt and pebbles clattered to the floor.

Spottedpaw's gaze flickered from one cat to the next, from Dewstep to Cloverstream and then back again. His heart was thudding a mile a minute. Never before had he been this afraid in his life. He wanted to run away.

Instead, he whirled around and butted Reedwhisker hard on the shoulder, sending the tom staggering off to the side.

"Hey!" he protested, more alarmed than furious. "Wh-what—"

"Go!" the apprentice yelled. "There's an exit at the very end of this tunnel. Just follow it in a straight path and you'll get there."

The deputy casted one horrified glance back at the badgers before he dashed away, with Heathertail trailing quickly after him.

Blizzardkit dangled from Cloverstream's mouth. Spottedpaw leaned down to pick up the other one, but the queen growled, "Don't touch her."

He gulped and backed away.

The queen's eyes suddenly softened. She almost looked sad, although it could just be her weariness showing through.

"Take care of yourself," she whispered quietly. The apprentice gazed after her as she scrambled after the others, her tail disappearing into the shadows.

"Spottedpaw, look out!"

He snapped his head around just in time before the badger's jaws could snap onto him like a steel trap. It roared, blasting hot air into his face, and lunged toward him. He squeaked in alarm.

Dewstep darted in front of him and swung his claws at the badger's eyes. It huffed and backed a few steps away.

"What are you still doing here?" the ThunderClan warrior panted. The sides of his flanks heaved. A large patch of the fur along his back was missing, and a large, open gash trickled thin streams of blood down his ragged leg.

Spottedpaw's ears flicked up. What was he doing here? He should be running away with the others!
The two badgers charged at once. Dust bloomed up from their thick, stout legs as they stampeded toward the cats.

Dewstep yowled and leaped into the air, twisting, and landed on the back of one.

"Don't mess with a warrior!" he snarled, and sank his teeth into its neck. The badger bellowed and swatted him off the side with a loud, sickening thud.

The second one swung its front paw at the ShadowClan cat, and he dodged out of the way seconds before it connected with his skull.

Spottedpaw's feet were clumsy and unskilled, but he managed to give the badger a few scratches on its muzzle.

It thundered. That only made it angry.

Blood trickled out of Dewstep's mouth as he staggered to his paws again, using the wall for support.

"Do you have a death wish, Spottedpaw?" he gasped. "Why are you still here?"

"T-to help y-you fight."

"You want to die that badly?"

One of the badgers came toward him. Spottedpaw crouched down, ignoring the pain of the old scratches on his pelt, and bunched up his hind legs. He tried to remember all those moons ago, before he had found the tunnels, when he still remembered the feel of the sun on his fur.

Stop bouncing around like a frog, Spottedpaw. I know this is your fourth day of apprenticeship, but try to calm yourself down. There. I'm going to teach you something called the belly rake. He remembered those words as clearly as if he could hear them now. He missed them.

He missed them so much.

It's pretty risky to do, but if you do it right, it's worth it. Now, pretend I'm the enemy. What's the most vulnerable part of my body? The eyes? Well, that's one thing. I guess you could be right on that. But it's the belly I'm talking about. You see?

The badger charged in slow motion. He could practically see the dust blooming up behind it like brown roses, and the trickle of saliva dripping out of its mouth.

He stretched his claws, feeling the tips of their sharpness. This time, he would use them to save a life.

At the very last second, he sucked in a deep breath and swallowed his fear. He kicked his hind legs hard on the floor and propelled himself forward, straight into the path of the monstrous badger.

Twisting so that he was lying face up, he slipped underneath its body, past its huge teeth and gigantic claws, until he lay right underneath its furry belly.

The badger began to rear up, and he knew he had to act fast.

Do it, Spottedpaw! Strike at the right second, not too fast and not too slow. Don't falter. True warriors can't afford to make mistakes.

He could almost hear the voice in his mind. As quick as an adder, he lashed out with all four paws and felt the warm blood pour onto the ground as he slit the belly wide open.

The badger screamed as it lurched backward. It collapsed in a pool of its own blood, still breathing, as its life slowly drained away.

The other badger yelled harshly and galloped toward him. He whipped his head around to see the murder in its eyes and he immediately knew that he was no match for this one.

It wasn't the first time he had asked himself how it felt like to die.

"Spottedpaw!"

Dewstep launched himself onto the brute's back. With both claws, he reached down and slashed at its eyes.

"Now!" he yelled.

He broke out of his surprise and darted forward, quick as an arrow. With the badger distracted, it was easy for him to sink his teeth into its thick, strong neck.

Dewstep leaped off clumsily, and without a second glance back at the badger's dying body, they turned and limped away.

"We have to get out of this tunnel," the grey tom gasped. "More will be coming this way."

Spottedpaw panted beside him but said nothing. He was exhausted, and his thin, gangly legs dragged across the ground.

The ThunderClan warrior blinked kindly at him. "You said there was an exit down the end of the tunnel. But I can't leave yet. There are still others trapped down here. You can go if you want."

The apprentice shook his head. "I'm coming with you," he mewed.

Dewstep grinned. A stream of blood dripped down from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't say anything.

Spottedpaw closed his eyes and tried to remember everything else the voice had told him. In his mind, he saw a faint flash of tortoiseshell fur.

You are lucky, Spottedpaw. You were born into ShadowClan. You should be proud of your heritage, for this Clan is the strongest and fiercest of them all. He remembered the green eyes of his mentor, Tawnypelt.

Great StarClan, he missed her.

Don't be afraid, Spottedpaw. As long as you have close friends by your side, no matter where you might be, the future is never to fear.

Tawnypelt was dead. He was certain of it. But he still remembered what she had told him all those moons ago.

Dewstep grunted, and then winced in pain. His limping grew heavier. "Hey," he said. "When all of this is over, I want you to help me rebuild the Clans. We'll make them bigger, stronger than before. I can't do it on my own. What do you say?"

Spottedpaw nodded fiercely.

When was the last time he had talked to a cat?

"I…I've been away for a long time," he mewed, ducking his head in embarrassment. "What does the Lake look like?"

Dewstep tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, as if he could see the sky.

"Oh, it's beautiful," he mewed softly. "Absolutely beautiful. Before the foxes took over the land. Now it's just a heap of grey dirt. But before…the Lake was so clear you could see yourself in it. Not a cloud in the sky."

He broke off with a sharp intake of breath and staggered.

With a shocked yelp, Spottedpaw dove at his side and let him rest himself on his shoulder.

"A-are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

His ears perked up in alarm at the sound of pawsteps pattering closer and closer. Glancing around in panic, he spotted a small crevice deep in the wall. It was just big enough to fit a cat.

Dewstep tried to stand up, but Spottedpaw shoved him in as gently as he could. Hopefully, the shadows would conceal him.

"What are you doing?" the dark grey cat hissed.

Spottedpaw looked over his shoulder uncertainly. He mewed, "Um, just stay here for now. Don't let them find you."

The increasing rhythm of the pawsteps sent his nerves spiraling out of control. His tail fluffed out like a squirrel's.

They were about to round the corner. With one last, final decision, Spottedpaw hurled himself out of his hiding place and planted his paws in front of the group of foxes coming his way.

At least it would distract them from Dewstep.

Titus growled and padded forward to loom up at the quivering apprentice. Spottedpaw gulped and shivered, the room suddenly growing colder.

"Where have you been?" the fox growled. "You weren't there when I called for you. Have you disobeyed my orders?"

His green eyes widened. "What? N-no, it's just—"

Nettle scented the air. His eyes narrowed. "I smell blood."

"Wait, don't go—"

Ignoring the cat, Nettle bounded off further down the tunnel. Spottedpaw braced himself.

After a brief silence, his voice echoed around the walls. "There's two dead badgers here! What happened to them?"

The foxes formed a circle around the cowering apprentice. He tried to clamp his jaws over a whimper than threatened to come out of his throat.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Spottedpaw?" Titus snarled. His jaws parted to show rows and rows of yellow teeth. "We have allowed you to live for this long, but perhaps your life will now come to an end."

"P-please—"

"Let's kill him!" one of them howled. "We can use his fur to line our nests."

The others barked in agreement, much to Spottedpaw's dismay. He wanted to sink into the ground. He finally knew what mice felt like when they were cornered by blood-thirsty cats.

"No," Titus growled darkly. "We have to make him into a Sacrifice. It's been a while since the Darklings have had any fresh meat, so it's only fitting that we present him to them."

The cat wailed and tried to wiggle out of the circle, but Nettle leaped down and clamped his jaws over his neck. Squirming around only made him tighten the grip.

"Let's move," Titus barked. "We will inform the Judgment for approval."

Spottedpaw squeezed his eyes shut as they dragged him away. The fox's teeth scraped his neck and drew a slight smudge of blood.

If only he could live for a few moments longer. He wanted to live.

But at least he had saved the life of a cat that he had known for only a few short hours. At least he had done that.

He ran his thoughts over his memories. He saw the gaunt, fearful faces of cats who shuffled away from him whenever he was near.

Traitor. Betrayer. He hated those words.

He didn't want to pay attention when he was presented to the Judgment. Scarlet barked out his punishment, and he caught the word 'sacrifice', but it hardly mattered to him anymore. He stared glumly at his reflection in the large, black rock set in the center of the room. A pair of green, dead eyes gazed back at him.

After the session was over and the sentence was passed, he was tossed into a cell.

"You will wait here until it's time," Titus growled, and the cat watched in silence as the fox sauntered away.

A couple of rats were posted as guards. Their duty was to report everything that happened. They stared at him coldly with their ruby-red eyes.

Spottedpaw curled up into a ball and closed his eyes. His whole body ached.

And he was alone once again.

Despite himself, he gave a short, cruel laugh. He actually thought that he could escape from this hellhole. He actually believed that he would get to see the Lake again.

Tears welled up from the corners of his eyes and he clenched his teeth as sobs racked his battered body. Involuntarily, memories brimmed upward with the tears.

Spottedkit squirmed as Cloverstream groomed him, her long tongue rasping across his tawny fur.

He wiggled impatiently. "Are you done yet?" he whined. The queen stared at him in amusement and sat up.

"Alright now," she purred. "Go play."

He chirped in excitement and bounded out of the nursery. Cloverstream poked her head out and meowed after him, "Don't wander off!"

The sunlight casted its warm rays across his blotchy pelt as he teetered on uneven paws. He spotted Sparrowkit, Dewkit, and Mistkit play-fighting across the clearing, and he prepared to join them.

Something fluttered at the edge of his vision and he stepped back, tipping his head to one side. His gaze widened in wonder.

A white butterfly quivered in the warm air. It flapped its wings effortlessly and seemed to be floating in the wind. Spottedkit mewed in excitement and batted his paws at it. He followed, twirling along with its dancing movements, until he was well out of the ShadowClan camp.

He didn't really care. He wanted to explore. Forgetting the butterfly, he tramped through the ferns. The pines towered above him like giants. He could barely see the top.

He placed his paw down and suddenly squeaked in alarm when he began to slide down the slope. With his ears flattened in fear, he tried to sink his paws into the ground, but his tiny claws hardly even scratched the surface.

With one last wail, he landed head over heels at the bottom of the hill and blinked in relief at the soft landing.

Until he noticed the two paws standing in front of them. He tipped his head back to look upward. A strange creature was towered above him, amber eyes narrowed into slits. It wasn't a cat. Its muzzle was long and sharp, and its pelt was bright ginger. Spottedkit tipped his head to one side, unsure of what to think about this weird being.

He scuffled backward when it spoke.

"What are you doing so far from home, little kitten?" The voice was low and rough and oddly soothing. "Are you lost, little one?"

Spottedkit puffed out his chest in pride. "I'm exploring!" he said brightly.

"Really? Then I suppose you've never seen a fox den before?"

Spottedkit wrinkled his nose. "What's a fox?"

The creature gave off a throaty laugh. "Why, that's what I am. My name is Fang." He turned and beckoned to the kit. "I'll show you my place. It's got all sorts of things you've never seen."

"Really? Wait for me!"

Spottedpaw rolled over onto his other side, snuffing out the memories. He whimpered softly.

If he had never wandered out of the camp, he would have never come across Fang.

A large slap sent Spottedkit crashing to the side. He curled up, ears flattened against his head, and whispered, "I-I'm s-sorry—"

Fang cuffed him again, while the other foxes howled in cruel laughter. "Stand up," he ordered sharply.

The kit did his best to obey, although blood was gushing out of his nose. He tried not to cry.

Luckily, Fang seemed to grow bored of his torment. Waving him away, he growled, "Clean my nest. And do it quick, or else I'll feed you to the dogs."

In the early days, when he was still a kit, Fang did let him go back to his Clan. But only for a few moons, before he was called back again.

Cloverstream covered the tiny kit in a frenzy of licks. "Spottedkit!" she cried. "You've been gone for moons! And how did you get so wounded like that? Spottedkit, tell me!"

The kit only gazed up at her with large, unblinking green eyes, and said nothing.

Littlecloud sniffed him. "There's a whiff of fox on him," he said. "Some of those brutes must have kidnapped him, but he managed to escape."

Cloverstream wrapped her tail protectively around him. "My brave little warrior," she kept saying, over and over again. "You must have been so frightened."

And no matter what he did, he couldn't forget his apprentice ceremony.

"Tawnypelt, your apprentice will be Spottedpaw. I trust you to teach him your ways and to train him to be a true warrior of ShadowClan."

"Spottedpaw! Spottedpaw! Spottedpaw!"

He wanted to hear them say his name like that again. He wanted to see his mother gazing at him with pride.

But it was only a matter of time before the foxes called him down again.

"Spottedpaw," Fang growled dangerously. "I have formed an alliance with the Darklings, and we will now start our plan in weakening the Clans. Your job is to sneak into ThunderClan territory and steal their prey. Line up the carcasses between the borders so that both Clans can see it. ThunderClan will accuse ShadowClan of prey-stealing, and hopefully, it will ignite a war."

The fox's eyes glittered with excitement.

"Go," he barked. "The punishment for failure is death."

Spottedpaw could hardly believe what he was hearing. He was supposed to cause a war?!

Yet, he knew that he had no choice.

In the darkness of the cell, Spottedpaw shuddered. He covered his face with his paw. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Fang's plan worked. In the cover of the undergrowth, Spottedpaw spied on a ThunderClan patrol.

A golden brown tom crouched over the carcass of a rabbit that he had killed two days ago. He had placed it where Fang had told him to, right between the border.

The ThunderClan cat looked up and meowed angrily, "Brackenfur, come look at this!"

Another tom bounded into view. "This is ShadowClan's doing, for sure," he rumbled. "I'll tell Bramblestar right away."

A sinking feeling weighted itself in Spottedpaw's heart.

And the battle happened…

"Is something troubling you?" Cloverstream asked gently.

Spottedpaw shook his head. "I'm fine," he said softly.

If you found out I was a fox-hearted traitor, would you still accept me as your son? he thought, but didn't dare say it out loud. All of a sudden, a large caterwauling sounded outside.

Cloverstream leaped to her paws and bolted out of the den. The apprentice followed more slowly.

The camp was in utter turmoil. ThunderClan and ShadowClan cats were hissing and slashing into each other. Blood spurted into the ground like petals. Spottedpaw ducked his head when one of the warriors leaped at him. She turned and attacked. Letting out a startled yelp, he dodged her blows and quickly ran off, disappearing into the writhing crowd.

He wanted the memories to stop. But his tears flowed on,

The Clan dipped their heads in mourning. Blackstar crouched in front of the two bodies on the ground, the moon outlining their fur so that they looked almost silver.

Blackstar dipped his head in grief. "Owlclaw and Toadfoot were two of the most loyal warriors that ShadowClan had never seen. They defended their Clan with their lives."

All of this is my fault, Spottedpaw thought. At that moment, he began to hate himself for everything that he had done. He hated himself more than he hated the foxes, even more than Fang. The blood of ShadowClan was smeared on his claws.

He decided that he would run away and join the foxes for good. He didn't want to live in a Clan and be reminded of his sins. He didn't want his mother to look at a coward like him.

"What have I done?" Spottedpaw gasped. He unsheathed his claws and placed it at his neck. He didn't deserve to live.

And then he thought of his mother, staring down at him with her sad eyes. Take care of yourself, she had said.

He had a brother and a sister, even though he didn't know their names. They looked so beautiful, although he only had a few short glimpses of them before she carried them away. He sheathed his claws again and let them hang limply by his sides.

Hurry up and let the Darklings take me, he thought.

OoOooooooooooooooooooOooooOOoOoOOoOoo

I struggled against the grasp of my captors, managing to kick one in the chest. They dragged me to the same room with the shiny, black stone in the center.

One of the hounds barked sharply, and a scrawny rat scurried into the room. After a while, it dashed back out again.

I winced. The teeth marks on my neck stung with a red fury.

After a while, a fox pattered in and calmly sat down in front of the stone, bushy tail tucked neatly around her paws.

"What do you want?" she growled.

I stifled a gasp. Scarlet was seated only a few feet away from me.

She must have realized something, for her ears perked up again and something flashed in her eyes. She quickly leaped to her paws and padded toward me.

I tried to back away. The dogs pushed me forward and rumbled.

I stiffened as Scarlet sniffed me, and her hackles began to rise. She knew…

"No," she said, backing away stiffly. "You're supposed to be dead."

Fear flashed in her gaze. She was afraid of me?

The dog growled, "What do you mean?"

Scarlet's face twisted into an expression of utter malice, but I wasn't afraid. I bared my fangs. "That's right," I snarled. "I rose from the dead. I came back to set things right."

The dogs began to back away as well. I unsheathed my claws and took a step toward them, satisfied when they flinched.

"How can it be?" they asked. "Fang killed her a long time ago."

With a sudden, blood-curdling shriek, Scarlet sprang at me with her arms outstretched wide like wings. She knocked into me and toppled me over, pinning me down with her paws.

She panted heavily, her eyes fixed onto me in determination. Jagged teeth protruded out of her parted lips.

I glared back.

"You're supposed to be dead," the fox spat. "The Pack was supposed to rise and become grand. The golden age of the foxes! But you. You ruined everything!"

I raked my hind legs against her belly until she was forced to let me up. She howled in rage and attacked me again.

Anger coursed through my veins and I cuffed her sharply in the head, sending her toppling to the side.

"Don't just stand there!" she barked to the dogs. Blood dripped from her jowls. "Attack her!"

The hounds only stood where they were as if they were rooted to the spot. One of them whined softly.

"They're afraid of me," I said simply. I set my hardened gaze on her. "You should be too."

For a moment, she sputtered, the rage clouding her mind and her vision. With a vicious growl, she sprang again. I braced myself.

As easily as if I were swatting a fly, I sent her crashing to the floor with one swipe of a paw. She immediately leaped to her feet and snarled viciously. I glowered at her, preparing to strike again.

I expected her to pounce, but instead, she raised her head and swiveled her ears around. Her eyes darkened.

She swung her head around and ordered, "Locate all of the cats in the tunnels. Don't let them leave."

Who was she talking to? She certainly wasn't looking at the dogs.

All of a sudden, a black wave condensed into the room from the cracks on the walls and surged out the door. It squeaked and chattered its long, crooked teeth. Numerous tiny claws clacked on the ground, and I realized that it wasn't a wave at all: it was a stampede of rats.

With my eyes wide with surprised I ducked and scrambled out of their way as they darted out. Needle-thin whiskers twitched and blood-red eyes glared at me as they scurried past, naked tails streaming behind them.

I turned back to Scarlet, hissing with my fur on end. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure no cat escapes." With a flick of her tail, she lunged at me again. I side-stepped out of the way, but her claw caught on the side of my face, leaving a thin cut on my cheek.

I planned to pin her down, but I didn't have time anymore. I had to get everyone out to safety before the rats found them.

A whole flood of rodents wouldn't hesitate to shed blood.

I turned and coursed out the door, past the blundering dogs, aware of Scarlet's voice howling with rage and fury as she dove after me.

I turned the corner. Her pawsteps echoed frantically behind me. The black wave of rats had already dispersed down the tunnels, leaving behind a few slow stragglers.

Their putrid odor hung thickly in the air, everywhere. I had to find the others. Skidding to a halt, I noticed another tunnel, winding deeper underground. Maybe some were trapped down there? It wouldn't hurt to look.

I slipped in. I heard Scarlet follow me, a long way behind, and then I started sprinting again.

The tunnel wound its way underground like a large, twisting snake. What would I find at the other end?

It broke off into two separate hallways. I paused, straining to listen. A few muffled sobs sounded from the left one. The voice rose to a thin wail, and then dropped to a whimper.

Hoping that Scarlet would lose track of me, I quickly dove into the left tunnel and hurriedly jogged through the darkness. I used my scent to guide me.

Yes, there was another cat in there! But there was another musky smell, something murky and dark that made my fur stand on end…Could it be?

I quickly shoved my doubts away when the tunnel began to narrow and ended in a small chamber.

Two rats chattered in panic when they saw me, whiskers twitching in annoyance, but they fled when I took a step toward them.

A small tom was curled up in a trembling ball in the corner, his hushed voice cracked and whispery.

"Hello?" I asked gently. He froze for a second, and then weakly lifted his end. Our eyes met.

I quickly padded toward him, recognizing him as the tom that I had seen that morning. His green eyes were clouded over.

Spottedpaw clenched them shut and whimpered something. I licked his pelt, smoothing the tangles and the ashes from his speckled fur.

"It's alright," I murmured. "I'm here."

He shifted and heaved himself up on shaky legs.

"Can you walk?" I asked. He nodded.

"W-we h-have to get out of here," he mumbled, his limbs beginning to shake again.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Th-this is a very bad place."

As he spoke, dark smoke seemed to waft up from the walls. I stared in dismay when the smoke formed figures, two large, black figures that loomed up higher and higher until they touched the ceiling. They opened their jagged mouths and hissed, blowing a few wisps of darkness into the air.

Spottedpaw crouched down and whispered, "This is the place where they keep all of the Sacrifices. Where the Darklings come to feast."

I tried not to let my fear show, even when I wanted to bolt out of the room.

The two Darklings slowly began to circle us.

Lucky day for ussss. I heard the foreboding voice clearly in my mind, as if there was a second person in there.

An extra cat for us to feed on. One of them opened its jaws wide and made a croaking sound at the back of its throat, as if it were laughing, as if Darklings were even capable of laughing. It was a harsh sound.

I jerked back when the other one came closer, close enough to get a good whiff of me.

Wait. Who is this one?

They stiffened and swung their heads around to glare at me out of their empty sockets.

Who is she….? The voice had changed from being haughty to being strained and insistent.

I glowered back at them, my claws unsheathed and ready to fight. "Get lost," I growled.

The smaller one began to back away slowly. Impossible! it hissed.

A clamor rose.

She's supposed to be dead!

Kill her!

The voices rose until they were all I heard. I hissed in fear, my ears flattened against my head. Spottedpaw whimpered and hid behind me.

No. The dogs were afraid of me. Scarlet had been afraid of me, even if it was only a quick flash in her eyes. I was the cat from the prophecy. I possessed more power than any of them.

And the Darklings should be afraid too.

Putting on my icy mask of bravery, I stepped forward.

The Darklings froze into a rigid stance and glared.

"Get out my way," I muttered.

She thinks she can defeat us!

Yet their voices were strained.

I forced myself to grin as I stood up. "I remember the time when one of you attacked me. Stole my memories. And you know what happened to that one? It died. One of my friends killed it. But then you slaughtered him, and now he's gone." My voice hardened. "He was a very dear friend of mine." My mouth formed into a snarl. Rage made my fur stand on end. "And now it's my duty to avenge his death."

They showed their jagged, stone-chiseled teeth and hissed. The shadows rippled underneath them, and without warning, they lunged at me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a mottled tawny pelt coming my way.

"Get out of the way!" Spottedpaw yowled, and he bowled me to the side. With a gasp, I quickly scrambled to my paws and lunged at him, trying to move him out of harm's way.

But with a sinking feeling, I realized that I wasn't fast enough.

With a shriek loud enough to wake the dead, the Darklings were on him in an instant, snarling and cavorting with razor sharp claws.

I pulled my jaws back and snarled viciously. I leaped and latched myself onto one of them and sank my claws down on it with all my might. It reared back and howled. Black blood spurted out from its wounds.

I jumped down from its back and spat at the second one. My claws glistened in the half-light with sticky ebony liquid. It stared at me as it backed away, its emotions hidden inside its empty sockets.

Spottedpaw looked pitiful. I desperately tried to stop the blood spurting from a ragged bite on his neck, but to my dismay, the blood only welled up faster.

"Spottedpaw! Spottedpaw, talk to me!" I cried. His eyes were closed.

Slowly, he opened them again, and blinked when he gazed up at me.

He was saying something. I leaned in closer.

He tried to heave himself onto his paws, but collapsed in a crumpled heap.

"Hey," I said gently. "You'll be fine."

He shook his head slowly, as if he had cotton stuck in his ears. "Who…Who are you?" he mewed. His green eyes were wide and confused as he glanced around the room.

My heart dropped. The Darklings had taken his memories. Trying not to let my voice tremble, I pressed my forehead against his and whispered, "Just rest here. I'll deal with them."

He only blinked.

I swung around to face my enemies, the fur along my back rising again. I wasn't fighting for my life this time. I was fighting for Spottedpaw.

With a furious roar, I launched myself at one and clung onto its back, hanging on for dear life as it shook me. It squealed and flung itself at the wall, trying to knock me off.

The cavern shook. Dust and pebbles rained down from the ceiling as it threw itself again and again at the wall. I only dug my claws in deeper, making the black liquid bubble up. Leaning down, I sank my teeth into the Darkling's neck, making it roar and rear up on its hind legs. The blood was sour and rotten and made my tongue sing.

All of a sudden, something rammed into me, hard enough to rattle my bones.

I sailed off of its back and twisted my body around to land on my paws. I reeled, but pulled myself together and attacked the second one. They both charged at once, jaws open wide.

Breathing heavily, I flattened myself to the ground and darted underneath its belly, raking my claws along its exposed hide before I scurried out again. It hissed and swung its huge paw at me, catching me in my leg.

With a loud shriek, I was flung high into the air. I felt the hot breath of the Darkling as I came down, and braced myself for the feel of jagged teeth that was going to sink into me at any second.

Instead, I was greeted by the ground. With a jarring thud, I collapsed, and raised my head in a daze.

Spottedpaw was clinging onto the Darkling's head, his claws pushed deep into its eye sockets. It was screaming. The walls echoed and shivered violently, letting more roots and dirt fall like rain. I sneezed.

"Hey!" the tom yelled. "I found a tunnel you can escape through!"

He nodded his head toward an opening in the room. I shook my head, hissing in frustration. If I left now, I wouldn't be able to get his memories back.

Ignoring his cries of protest, I darted forward as quick as an adder. The Darkling swung from side to side, shrieking, rearing up and lashing out at me with its claws.

Spottedpaw grunted and slashed at its face. I hesitated, preparing for the right moment to strike, and then jumped up and fastened my teeth onto the Darkling's throat.

My mouth was filled with the nasty taste of its blood. I resisted the urge to let go and gag, and instead sank my teeth down deeper.

It screamed one last time before its legs gave out underneath it, and it collapsed. I backed away and spat out the blood.

My ears perked up when I saw something white and misty trail out of its mouth. It looked like a translucent orb, or a pale, white-washed ghost. Spottedpaw tipped his head to one side in confusion as it neared him, and then watched nervously as it circled his small form. It pulsed and quivered gently, and then in one smooth movement, it thrust itself toward him and disappeared.

"What was that?" I asked, but then his eyes widened and he yowled, "Look out!"

I leaped out of the way in terror when the remaining Darkling came lunging after me.

It snarled. I could barely see with the amount of dust hovering in the air.

Spottedpaw gasped, "Quickly! The room is going to collapse! We have to get out of here!"

The Darkling reached for me and missed, instead ramming its head into the walls of the cavern. It roared in fury.

Suddenly, a lithe shape pulled me out of the way just as the ceiling began to cave in on itself. Dirt and stones washed down like a waterfall as Spottedpaw dragged me to safety. We reached the tunnel just in time before the cavern collapsed, burying the screaming Darkling and snuffing out its cries.

Dust bloomed out like brown roses.

"Spottedpaw," I asked uncertainly. "Did you get your memories back?"

He winced, but managed to grin. I breathed a sigh of relief.

His tail lashed out and he dived deeper into the tunnel, calling out over his shoulder, "Hurry! This way."

He led me through the dark halls. I didn't know where we were, but I trusted him to guide me.

"Where's Scarlet?" I asked, noticing that the fox was gone.

"She probably left once she found out that the Darklings were attacking you."

"Why?"

"To the foxes, the Darklings are sacred beings. They're kind of worshipped like gods. It's Fang's rule that no fox should disturb a Darkling when it's feasting. And they're really noisy most of the time anyway, so no one should have paid any attention when we were attacking them. Scarlet must think that you're dead now. Dead for good. She wouldn't come back to the room unless she wanted to find your bones."

I pictured in my mind the shock and surprise in the fox's' face when she found the room caved in and the Darklings dead in the dust. What a lovely surprise it would be.

The wound on his neck was beginning to crust over. He limped heavily and his sides heaved from the exhaustion of running. I leaned over and supported him with my shoulder, and he blinked at me gratefully.

He huffed quietly, "Wh-where do we go now?"

"Take me to the other cats."

Our pawsteps padded soundlessly through the darkened tunnels.

OOOOooooooooooooooooOOooOoOoOoOOOoOoOoooooOOOO

Dewstep spat out the rat and watched in satisfaction when it fell onto the floor with a dead, wet slap.

He panted heavily as he surveyed the corpses of rodents that were scattered all around him. A small group of them had suddenly attacked him out of nowhere, but luckily he was able to fight them off.

He limped away, ignoring the sore shrieking of his muscles. He had to find the others.

But the tunnels all looked the same, and he found himself lost.

A few raspy voices floated through the air. He pressed himself against the wall when some dogs slithered past, and then continued on his way.

The tunnels echoed with silence, so he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard someone whisper, "Is…is someone there?"

A she-cat shyly ducked out of view when he caught sight of her. His eyes widened and he took a step forward. "Aspenpaw?"

She reappeared again out of her hiding place. "You still remember me?"

"Aspenpaw, who're you talking to?"

Dewstep's spirits rose when Larksong appeared behind the WindClan apprentice, although she looked thread-bare and battered.

The three of them embraced and licked one another affectionately, before Aspenpaw broke off and mewed over her shoulder, "Purdy, you can come out! It's only Dewstep."

"Purdy's here too?"

A wheezing sounded from the shadows as the elderly tom trudged into view. His fur was rumpled and tangled into knots, as usual, but his eyes brightened when he saw Dewstep. They purred and touched noses in greeting.

"I never thought I'd see ya again, young un," he rumbled. "Whatr' you doin' out of your cell?"

"I was trying to find you," Dewstep said.

Larksong replied, "The foxes left our cell unguarded, and we managed to sneak out. Do you know if anyone else is trapped down here?"

The ThunderClan tom nodded grimly. "A lot of cats still need our help. Come on. We'll have to find them." He beckoned to them with his tail, and together, they limped side-by-side down the hollow corridor.

OoOooOoOOOOoOOoOoOooOOOooOooooooooooOo

We paused to rest for a bit. I bent my head down, wincing as I licked a rat bite on my chest. Spottedpaw and I had come across a small cluster of them before they scurried off again. The black wave that we had seen earlier had probably dispersed into smaller groups.

Spottedpaw lay on his side, his eyes half-open and slightly glazed.

"You okay?" I asked. He twitched his whiskers and nodded.

I sat up, ready to attack, when I heard scuffling at the back of the tunnel. Judging from the noise, it was more than just one creature, and they were much too big to be rats. Spottedpaw struggled to stand up.

I hissed into the darkness, "Show yourself!"

The scuffling paused, and then it started up again, the pawsteps more urgent this time. I drew my lips back and bared my teeth, but then gaped in shock when the creatures stepped into view.

Dewstep's ears perked up. "Shadefrost?" He froze, one paw poised in the air, and then tackled me, purring in relief.

I licked his forehead before glancing up. "Aspenpaw and Larksong are here too? And Purdy?"

"There's more!" Aspenpaw chirped, and she beckoned at the shadows.

A small herd of Clan cats appeared, all of them scraped and bruised, but their eyes glittered with hope again. There were about twenty of them.

There should have been more.

"Are they all of the survivors?"

"All that we could find. But hey, at least we found them, right?"

I nuzzled him. "Yeah. Thanks."

Spottedpaw backed away slowly when Aspenpaw approached him. She sniffed a wound on his side while he flinched.

"You're hurt!" she exclaimed.

He lowered his head and mumbled, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," she insisted. "I'm a medicine cat apprentice. I'll help you." And before he could protest, she began to treat him.

Squirrelflight smiled, gently. "She'll make a great WindClan medicine cat one day." She glanced at me. "It's good to see you again, Shadefrost."

I dipped my head in respect. "You too."

Dewstep sniffed the air and said, "Enough talk for now. We have to get out of here. Spottedpaw, do you know the way?"

The tom nodded and squirmed out of Aspenpaw's reach.

The remaining ShadowClan cats spat at him and edged away. Kinkfur exclaimed, "Why are you trusting him? Don't you know what he did?"

Mosspelt unsheathed her claws and advanced toward Spottedpaw threateningly. "We should get rid of him before he causes more harm," she hissed.

Aspenpaw shrieked, "No!"

I quickly dove in front of the cowering ShadowClan apprentice, shielding him from any assault. "There will be no fighting among Clans," I snapped. My voice was prickled with annoyance. Didn't these cats realize that fighting would only make things worse?

Troutstream lashed her tail in the air like a whip. "We don't want him with us! Let's get rid of him!"

Spottedpaw squeaked in alarm when some of the cats rose toward him. The others scuffled their paws, looking anxious and uncertain.

Dewstep barred their way, rage coursing through his fur. "Enough of this!" he meowed. "Spottedpaw will show us the way out, and that's final. Sheathe your claws, unless you want to pick a fight with me."

The tension in the air was suddenly replaced with fear when the scent of fox was suddenly mingled with the smell of cats. It grew steadily stronger.

"They're coming this way," I whispered. I turned to Spottedpaw and licked his nose fondly. His green eyes were wide when I spoke. "Spottedpaw, I trust you to lead the Clans to safety. Make sure that no cat falls behind. No matter what the others may say, I don't believe that you are a traitor." He ducked his head when I nuzzled his fur.

"And Spottedpaw, before you go…" He glanced up at my words. "I'd be proud to call you my friend," I told him. "You can do this."

He shivered softly, and whispered, "Thank you." I smiled back at him.

Leaning down, I reached down toward his ear and whispered slowly, "There's a fox waiting in the entrance. Don't worry about her. Her name is Ember, and she's one of us now. But give her this message…" He flicked his ears and nodded.

I lifted up my head and gazed at the other cats staring uncertainly at me. "Listen to everything Spottedpaw tells you. He knows the ways in and out of this place. Follow him and he will show you the exit."

They quivered in fear and pawed nervously at the ground. Spottedpaw shook his fur and limped farther down the tunnel. "C-come on," he mewed, his words so quiet that I could barely hear him. "This way."

The others glared at him and growled softly. He stared back, heartbroken, and then dashed down the tunnel, the darkness swallowing him up.

The crowd was still for the first few seconds. Larksong and Aspenpaw were the first to break free and trail after the tom.

Hushed whispers.

And then, like sheep trailing after a trustworthy shepherd, the rest of them followed obediently. Their tails disappeared as they rounded the corner, a few of them casting unsure glances back at me. The padding of their pawsteps gradually grew quieter and quieter.

The last to leave was Dewstep.

The scent of foxes was more insistent, begging to be noticed.

"You should go," I told him, flicking my tail.

His stone gaze was solid and unmoving. He padded up next to me and unsheathed his claws, staring down the corridor to where the foxes were approaching.

He said, "I am not leaving you."

"Mouse-brain. I can fight this on my own."

"I am not leaving you," he repeated. "We're friends. We stand together. Snowstorm would have said the same, if he was here."

My face softened.

"You!" a fierce voice spat from the tunnel. Scarlet lurched into view, followed by a whole mob of furious foxes, rats, badgers, and dogs.

"You're going to pay for everything that you've done," she snarled, and prepared herself to spring. Dewstep stood taunt and rigid next to me. My glare was unflinching.

I raised my head and yelled, "I won't let you lay another claw on my Clan!" right as she howled, "Attack!"

The mob surged forward like a tidal wave and flooded the room. In an instant, it became a battleground of crazy roars and bellows and barking, of claws glinting and yellow teeth flashing as they snapped onto fur.

Concentrate, I told myself. Don't think about anything else. With a snarl, I slashed at the muzzles of hounds and bit down hard on scruffy necks. Blood roared in my ears as it rained down and splashed onto the ground.

The chorus of battle sang in my veins. With tooth and claw and with every ounce of energy I had, I fought and attacked with might. Dewstep was lost in the flood of barking, but I couldn't worry about him right now.

In a few brief seconds, I was face to face with Scarlet. She growled and sank her teeth into a hind leg, but I managed to pull myself free and landed several blows on her forehead. She broke off, blood dripping from one ear, and snarled again. She turned tail and disappeared into the writhing mob.

Where was she going? I didn't have time to think about it before a wall of fur slammed into me. The badger grunted and clacked its yellow teeth, swinging its fat claws around warningly.

It suddenly bellowed in pain as Dewstep fastened his teeth into its hindquarters. I nodded at him gratefully before we both turned away.

I didn't feel any pain. I only felt confidence and courage. This was what I was meant to do, what StarClan had called me here for. I was certain that we would win.

I clamped my teeth down hard enough to break bone. I heard snarls and growls turn to whimpers and wails and frantic squeaking as one by one, they either collapsed or fled with their tails tucked between their legs.

Blood splashed onto the walls like a different sort of painting. I whirled around, flanks heaving, claws brandished and ready to tear apart fur, when suddenly, Dewstep said, "It's over. We won."

I stared in disbelief at the aftermath. The sticky blood was practically everywhere. We surveyed the scene quietly.

Broken bodies of dogs and rats were strewn about like rad dolls. Numerous foxes lay dead by my paws. I was covered from head to toe in deep, ragged scratches. They ached dully now, but would soon flare up later.

"We did it," I gasped. Unsheathing my claws, I let myself rest.

But it didn't seem right, somehow. It happened too fast, was too easy. And the sight of the dead bodies scattered beside me like dandelions…

I lapped at a wound, wincing at the coppery taste.

Dewstep heaved himself to his paws and smiled. "You did it, Shadefrost. The Clans are free."

"Yeah," I replied, still unsure of something, but I didn't know what.

I raised my head. "You can go check on the cats. I'll rest here for a bit."

He nodded. Kicking up his heels, I watched as his tail streamed behind him before he bounded out of view.

I closed my eyes and listened to the eerie silence of the corpses. My paws felt as if they would drop off at any minute, and my stomach growled.

"Shadefrost," a voice rumbled. I stiffened and sat up. That voice. Deep and strong and slightly hoarse, the voice that I had heard many times before.

I slowly turned my head.

Fang padded out of a tunnel and surveyed the bloodied room. His eyes were cold, but he smiled. His mouth twisted savagely. "What a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect you to come back from the dead."

I backed away until I pressed the wall, my heart thudding louder.

He sniffed the carcass of a fox. "What a mess you made, "he growled softly.

I jerked forward. "Where have you been?" I spat. "Were you hiding from me? Are you that much of a coward?" I knew I shouldn't anger him, but I couldn't hold back all of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

He showed me his teeth. "I am no coward. I was simply on a short trip. But never mind that." He padded closer and closer, his mouth widening with every step.

"This fight is ours," he said, and then he lunged.

OoOooOOoooOOOOoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooOoOo

Ember whined softly when she heard the spotted cat whisper in her ear. She had been hiding underneath the undergrowth when the surviving cats padded out of the tunnels. She searched for Dewstep or Shadefrost hidden among the faces, but her heart dropped when she didn't find them.

And then she had met the spotted cat. He was obviously afraid of her; he quaked in terror and hissed when she came closer toward him.

But then he had slowly calmed down when she told him her name. And he had leaned forward and whispered something in her ear.

Ember's heart skipped a beat when she heard it.

Brimstone.

She had no idea that Shadefrost would actually do this.

Brimstone…The word brought back memories of when the cat used to visit her on her secret trips.

Pip and Shadefrost stared out over the Lake, watching the wind ripple over the great mirror. A heap of round pebbles was settled next to them, waiting to be thrown into the depths of the Lake. Pip could never learn how to make them skip across the surface, no matter how often Shadefrost taught her.

"Hey," the cat said suddenly, gazing down at the fox pup. Pip stared certainly back at her. "One of the patrols brought back some flint, and I managed to make a fire in the camp. I wish you could see it." She straightened up as Pip curled up closer. "But, anyways. I was thinking about a code word we could use when something goes wrong. It's childish, I know. But if we don't want an eavesdropper to know what we're saying, it'll be useful. 'Brimstone', I'm thinking." Pip huffed and furrowed her brow. She didn't like how the word sounded, even though she didn't know what it meant.

And the last time Ember saw Shadefrost, right before she and Dewstep vanished down the tunnels.

"I'm coming too," Ember growled.

"But you'll be recognized straight away if they see you. You'll get killed. It's best if you stay here."

The fox glared and opened her mouth again, but Shadefrost pressed her forehead against hers. "I don't want to lose you," she whispered. "Not after Snowstorm."

And she murmured something else into her ears, something too low for anyone else to hear: "When you hear the word 'brimstone', I want you to set the tunnels on fire. It's my little plan. Once every cat is safely out of the tunnels, the fire will destroy it and chase away the Darklings."

And here was the spotted cat, blinking expectantly up at her.

She furrowed her brow. "Right," she said. She searched the crowd again and was relieved to see Dewstep pull himself out. But where was Shadefrost?

The fox was uncertain. Fires were risky. And yet, if Shadefrost wanted her to do it, she ought to. If the cat had been as sure as she sounded…

Ember stood up and thanked the spotted apprentice, and bounded away as fast as she could. Shadefrost had once told her of some flint stashed away in the ThunderClan camp.

Hidden in the undergrowth, a pair of golden eyes flashed as they watched her sprint away. A red muzzle parted to reveal sharp teeth, and a low growl resounded from its chest. Scarlet glared out of two narrowed slits, and then she heaved herself up and began to follow Ember, intent on hunting her down.