Ugh…I've worked on this chapter all day and revised and edited it so many times, but it still doesn't sound quite right. Oh well, I still hope you enjoy it, although the ending of the chapter sounds rushed to me (Don't worry, this isn't the last chapter).
When this fanfic does end, do you want a sequel? Or not? I also need some ideas for the plot, if I'm going to write it. Make sure to check out the poll on my profile :D
CHAPTER 69-The Phoenix Rising
Death flung itself repeatedly against the tunnel walls, echoing again and again throughout the empty chambers. It seemed to be waiting just outside the door, crouching, eyes fixed on us to see who it should claim next.
Fang stared at the corpses that littered on the blood-soaked floor, but his gaze was one without sadness or remorse. Already the red on my claws was drying.
"Look at the dead," Fang rumbled. "Aren't they beautiful? The way they just sleep there, looking without seeing, stirring softly with memories?"
I snarled.
He chuckled, "Oh, Shadefrost. Shadefrost, Shadefrost," as if he was scolding a very young and very naughty child.
I eyed him warily, and then hissed, "What?" It frustrated me, that I had no idea what he was thinking.
His jeering smile twisted to form a snarl. His hackles rose, he loomed upward, and he looked bigger than before. It seemed that his shoulders nearly brushed the ceiling. I took a step back, crouching, and my gaze flickered over to the door. Would it be better to fight him here, or to lure him away outside?
A few wisps of grey trailed in from the opening and danced in the air, twirling and spinning with their transparent arms and legs. It invaded my nose, the traces of it.
Fang sniffed the air, his black nostrils flaring.
I grinned at the confused look on his face. "Smoke," I meowed. "The tunnels are being set on fire. You won't be able to get out."
"And neither can you. We're both trapped down here."
"So be it," I spat. I wasn't going to show any fear. This fight would mark the victory of the Clans, or the end of it. "At least you won't be able to escape."
I pressed my claws deeper into the dirt, flexing them and imagining them ripping into the throat of Fang, pretending to feel the stickiness of red trickle like rivers down my arms.
But could I really kill him? The thought jolted me awake with such a sudden force that I reeled backward in alarm. Kill Fang? Could I really do it?
As if he could read my mind, he narrowed his eyes. "That's right. Why are you hesitating? What are you waiting for? Kill me, like you killed all those dogs, all those foxes, those Darklings, those rats and badgers! Go ahead and toss my life away like a piece of fresh-kill! Maybe then, you'll be able to prove that I'm the evil one and you're the good guy here!"
My eyes flashed in fury. "Shut up."
I began to tremble. "Just…shut up!" I roared and sprung at him, my claws meeting nothing but the open air as he side-stepped out of the way. He butted my shoulder, sending me toppling and crashing to the wall.
Winded, I lay there, watching the smoke gather into the room, turning from a shade of pale, transparent white into a thick grey.
"Don't make me laugh," the fox growled. His voice was dripping with malice, and his gaze had twisted into an expression of utter loathing. "You can't save the Clans. You couldn't even save your friends."
My breath caught in my throat. Snowstorm. Had he died because I was too weak to protect him?
The smoke gathered and clung heavily to the air like a blanket, stifling the heat and raging like storm clouds. The burnt scent of fire came with it like a fragrance.
I heaved myself to my paws, coughing. Turning to face him, I kicked up my feet and lunged again, spiraling into the air. My eyes watered.
I managed to seize hold of fur this time, and dug my claws in with all my might. He grunted and shook and bucked like a bull at a rodeo, causing me to crash onto the ground again.
He placed a paw on my chest, pinning me down. I could barely see his face from all the smoke, but his eyes glowed.
"Any last words?" he spoke calmly, as if this was only a stroll through the woods, not a fight to the death.
Fear stabbed into my heart, as sharp and noticeable as shrapnel. It clung to me and held me down, and I found that I couldn't move, no matter how much I wanted to get up and wipe that stupid grin off his face.
I have to save the cats, I thought desperately, writhing and twisting. The smoke loomed and yawned. Far away I could hear the crackling of flames.
Snowstorm was gazing down at me, his amber eyes wide and sad. I'm sorry, I wanted to say, but my throat was dry and scratchy. I could barely breathe. The fumes were intoxicating, and all of a sudden, I was overwhelmed with the will to breathe, to live. Faces flashed before me: Dewstep, Spottedpaw, Ember…
Right. They were all counting on me. With a violent lurch, I kicked up my hind legs and planted them straight into Fang's stomach. He yelped and leaped backward.
I scrambled to my paws and crouched down, tail low and ears flattened to my head. It was getting hard to see. The fumes rolled and rumbled like waves, and I couldn't help but cough. My eyes watered and ached.
"So you can still fight after all," Fang muttered.
He paused, glaring, and glanced around the corners of the room. "You can stay here for as long as you like," he snarled, and turned tail and bolted out the door.
"Hey!" I clamped my jaws over his tail, and it was a brief tug-of-war before he yanked himself free and dashed away.
I coughed. "Come back here!" It was getting too hard to keep my eyes open. The smoke seemed intent on blinding me.
Groping my way blindly through the tunnels, I chased after him. Heat scorched and burned orange around me. It was sweltering, red-hot, blistering and writhing. The inferno was focused on charring my fur, splitting open my skin, cracking and blackening my bones and licking my insides with the heat. A shower of sparks, as bright as day.
The flames lapped at the dark air, yellow tongues jagged and bright, cleaning whatever came near it.
Up ahead, I could barely see Fang's dark form blundering through the chaos.
Fire, my mind screamed. Fire! Fire! Fire!
Walls cracked and crumbled like dried clay. The flames crackled like foil, like shells that burst open and brought forth burning heat. Everything around me was collapsing and bringing down, like the end of the world, like falling. Fire! Fire! It crackled. It whimpered. It roared!
With a flying leap, I tackled Fang and we rolled head over heels down the tunnels, snapping with teeth and swinging with claws. He landed a dizzying blow to my head. With the darkness and the brightness of the fire, he looked like a black and scorched figure.
I hissed, my fur standing on end, singed and smelling like burnt flesh. We grappled each other and pounced and leaped and slashed with all our might, the blood splashing against the walls, as bright and scarlet as the dancing blazes. It rumbled in my ears.
Another roaring was echoing through the corridors, louder than waves crashing against rocky cliffs.
We both lifted our heads up, ears pricked up and focused.
The tunnels rattled and seemed to cough. The ground was shifting.
"The tunnels are collapsing!" I gasped.
Fang immediately kicked me away and tried to stand up. I held him down firmly.
"I'm not letting you go," I snarled.
His eyes reflected the depths of the inferno. "Are you insane?" he spat out harshly. His throat was arid and rough. "We'll both die here!"
"And I told you already, I don't care!" I broke off into a coughing fit, and gasped for something other than smoke. My lungs were scorching.
"No matter what happens, I can't let you leave the tunnels!" I yelled, over the sound of rocks smashing against one another and the boom of the ceiling caving in on itself like a tent. Determination flared up inside me, as bright as the furnace blazing around us. I didn't feel any fear. My heart wasn't hollow. Was this what it felt like to be brave? "I have to make sure that you won't harm the Clans ever again! I will protect the ones I love with my life!"
OooooOoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooOooOoOoOoOoOoOo
The ground growled like a ferocious beast. Dewstep felt it as clear as the day, felt it rumble beneath his paw pads. In front of him, a safe distance away, he could see the tunnels collapse, one by one, in a flurry of dry dust and rocks.
The thick, black smoke trailed out of them and choked out the sky so that it looked as pitch as night.
Beside him, Spottedpaw quivered. "She's going to be okay, right?" he asked.
Dewstep laid his tail comfortingly across his shoulder and held him close. "Yeah," he replied. "Shadefrost went with her plan because she knew it would work. She'll be fine; you'll see. We got the rest of the cats out of the tunnels. The only thing we can do now is wait."
Ember was crouched down next to him, her paws tucked in underneath her belly and her tail curled up around her furry shape. Her amber eyes searched the ground for nothing. Her gaze was glassy and empty.
"Are you alright?" he asked her.
She didn't say anything, but shifted ever so slightly.
"We have to have faith in Shadefrost," Dewstep said more firmly, swinging his head around to stare at the flames leaping out of the tunnels. "She'll set things right. I know she can do it."
In the distance, he squinted. Red and ginger shapes were limping hurriedly out of the openings in the tunnels, racing and heading straight for the protection of the trees in the horizon. The survivors of Fang's Pack. From the horrified looks on their faces, he knew that they wouldn't be a problem anymore.
Spottedpaw's anxious mew snapped him to attention. "She's not coming out."
"Of course she will," he assured him.
The mottled apprentice's hackles were rising in fear.
"Hey," Dewstep said kindly. "Try to take your mind off of it. Tell me about your life."
Spottedpaw looked uncertain. He hesitated, the spots on his flank rising up and down as he breathed. "Well…I was born in ShadowClan. I-I had a mother. And…and yeah. I was happy there."
"Why do the others call you a traitor?"
He ducked his head in embarrassment. "Because…because…" He shook his head and licked his chest fur nervously.
"Let's, let's talk about something else," he muttered.
"Of course."
Ember suddenly leaped to her paws.
"What is it?" Dewstep asked urgently, heaving himself up as he followed her gaze.
The last of the tunnels had collapsed into a heap of cracked boulders, shooting out wisps of flame that pranced over the remains. The heap began to shift slightly, as if something was struggling to climb out. Pebbles crumbled.
Ember immediately darted toward it without a single glance back.
"Ember!" Dewstep called after her. "Hold on!" He scrambled to his paws and bounded behind her with Spottedpaw hard on his heels.
The vixen sniffed the ground and began to dig frantically, her gaze intent.
The rubble shifted again. Blazes leaped out and darted and nipped. The smoke billowed as thick as fog, and Dewstep couldn't help but cough. The smoke scorched his lungs and blackened the sky like a gigantic bruise.
He called hoarsely, "Ember! It's too dangerous to be so close!" but the fox gave no signal that she had heard.
Suddenly, in one huge moment, the fire hissed and crackled, and without warning erupted into one ball of charred, flaming conflagration that bellowed with red-hot rage.
Dewstep darted forward like lightning and yanked Ember back by the scruff of her neck, just in time before the yellow tongues reached her. It singed their fur and turned the surrounding stones into black charcoal.
They panted and watched as the fire grew and sprouted and twisted in the air, cavorting in violent succession. It writhed and churned grotesquely.
The dead brush nearby immediately fell prey to the hungry tongues and were lapped up and blackened. The fire then dashed forward on tiny feet, latched itself onto the bark of a nearby tree, and began to devour it. In seconds, the bark was scorched bare and the branches were as dry and brittle as bones.
A flurry of shining sparks, and the fire was bounding away again, leaping like a deer among the ashen ruins. The burning deer paused, one hoof raised, and then swelled and expanded and turned itself inside out. It jumped onto the pines and gorged itself until it blew up and multiplied into cinders and then orange fawns.
The combustions were blue at first, as blue as ice but much hotter, and then they turned buttery and orange and flushed, folding and unfurling like a ruby blossom. The petals fell and were dashed into pieces, burning and sizzling among the rubble, and it ignited again and brought forth new flowers. Seeds that bristled and sprouted and turned rubicund and auburn, never ceasing, never pausing, dancing and spinning to join the carmine deer that burned among the coal-black trees.
The crunch and crackle of fiery teeth on wood, and one of the trees collapsed in a heap of sparks and died.
The cats were entranced by it. They couldn't take their eyes off of it, no matter how much the heat sizzled. The blanket of smoke masked the grey face of the sky.
And then, all of a sudden, the heap of rubble heaved, as if the earth was trying to breathe. The dirt parted and tumbled away as a black cat dug itself upward, dust clinging to her red-stained ebony fur. Her eyes glowed and pulsed like the fire surrounding her, and she stood up and surveyed the landscape.
The infernos pulsed and quivered and trembled in her wake, and they ignited and bloomed up toward the dark sky, reaching out with smoking arms and grappling the ropes of the sky. It surrounded her and unfurled before her, bowing their heads and crackling and roaring, staring at her with precaution and grace. The deer paused and looked up at the black cat, surveying her with large, sizzling doe eyes, and grew antlers of flame and fury.
The black cat held her head up high, looking upward toward the sky, past the cover of the smoke and swirling ashes.
Dewstep's breath caught in his throat as he stared up at her in awe. The fire behind her shifted and formed shapes and embraced her. As she stepped down from the pile of debris, it seemed that she had wings of fire. Huge, feathery wings of flame and ashes and fire and cinders, wings that sprouted plumages and sparks and bloomed with the colors of amber and cadmium and citrine and electric, of bright bursts of fulvous and apricot and a deep, rich hue of jasper and cinnabar.
Her eyes were made of fire. Everything about her was made out of fire, outlined in crimson and yellow. She crackled and quivered in their midst.
Suddenly, the flames shrank back as if in terror and she padded forward slowly. It was then that Dewstep noticed that she was dragging something by the scruff of its neck. Something large and bristled and orange-furred and limp.
Spottedpaw gasped and dove behind the grey warrior, but Ember stared on in eerie silence as Shadefrost dumped the limp form of Fang in front of them. The crackling of the fire died down.
It was a while before any of them spoke.
"Look at you," Dewstep meowed. "You're a mess."
Shadefrost's fur was singed, and in some places, burnt. She was covered in numerous scratches and gashes that were still oozing blood. He leaned over to help her clean it off, but she shrank back.
Shadefrost's POV
Spottedpaw peered out from behind Dewstep's shoulder and mewed nervously, "Is…is he dead?"
I hesitated, and then shook my head. "No."
Dewstep's eyes flashed in sudden anger. "Why not?"
Without warning, the unconscious fox writhed and slowly blinked open his eyes. He stared up at us in bewilderment, and then tried to struggle to his paws. I pinned him down firmly.
"Let me go!" he howled, squirming. It was satisfying to see that I finally held his life in my paws.
My stomach lurched and I blinked and shook my head furiously. No. What was I thinking?
Spottedpaw hid behind Dewstep's shoulder, and Ember took a few paces back. Only Dewstep stood still , as tall and rigid as a boulder.
Fang's sides heaved as he breathed. I felt his pulse through my paw, thudding with the beat of life and with the warmth of blood running through his veins, making him breathe, live. For a split second, I yearned to cut it off, yank it away, tear it to pieces, watch the crimson sink and settle deep into the ground. Wasn't it what he deserved?
He twisted his head around to glare at the cats. "Ember!" he snapped. "Attack her! Help me!"
Ember stood her ground and refused to meet his gaze. She flinched when he spat out her name.
"Traitor!" he barked furiously as he struggled in my grip. "Where are the others? Scarlet? Titus? Where did they all go? Why did they all leave me?"
"Give up now," I growled, aware of Dewstep's unflinching stone-cold gaze boring into my pelt. It made me shiver. "The tunnels have collapsed. Your Pack has scattered. And the Clans are victorious. I beat you."
He closed his eyes and growled, "That's true. But you haven't won yet." He grinned, startling me. "No. You haven't won yet! Have you forgotten?"
Dewstep glared at me and muttered, "Just kill him. Why won't you kill him? Just—"
"Be quiet!" I snapped. The word 'kill' sent ice trailing down my spine. I felt my claws on his warm chest, placed in front of his still beating heart. It was so easy! Just slash his throat open! I had pinned him down. He can't escape. So why couldn't I do it?
Fang continued, "Have you forgotten, Shadefrost?"
I tightened my grip on him. "Forgotten what?" I hissed.
He squirmed in delight, his tail waving like a squirrel's. His golden eyes flashed as his mouth widened into a toothy grin, like he had found himself a tasty morsel of prey and was intent on keeping it to himself. It was as if he knew all the answers but refused to tell. It made my blood boil.
"So you don't know! Have you forgotten? The Clans haven't won yet, Shadefrost!" he taunted.
Dewstep stepped forward threateningly, amber eyes narrowed into slits. "If you won't kill him," he hissed. "Then I will."
"Dewstep, don't," Ember said quietly.
Fang squirmed in my grasp. "You can never kill me!" he spat at me. "You're too weak!"
I pressed my paw against his throat, feeling his pulse thudding there, warm and powerful. I pressed it harder until he began to sputter.
"Tell me," I growled dangerously close to his ear. "What did I forget?"
He coughed and blinked, straining against my grasp.
The ground began to shudder once again. It was as if it was ripping itself apart, with the noise it made.
My eyes widened in disbelief. I didn't want to believe it.
Fang was beaten! I was supposed to have won!
The first Darkling trudged forward on shadowy claws and swung its large head around, black stuff dripping from its parted jaws. It scented the air, nostrils flaring, and then dashed away with a puff of smoke. More and more descended and joined together, barging among the trees to wreak havoc. It was a whole swarm of them, so many that they looked like one huge, condensed black beast.
Why weren't they burning up in the sunlight? I glanced up, and realized with a sinking feeling that the sun was already setting.
A cold wind erupted like a beast. The flames died down, little by little, until they were little more than pulsing ashes.
Dewstep yowled, "Ember! Spottedpaw! Hide in the trees! Hurry!"
Spottedpaw casted one terrified glance back before racing away, Ember a tail-length behind him.
Fang began to snicker. The snicker turned into a chuckle, and then a howl of delight that hid something terrible beneath it.
A smaller Darkling hissed and pounced at us, but Dewstep dispatched it with a blow to its head.
I yelled, "Dewstep, get away from here! I can handle this!"
He snarled back, above the screaming of the Darklings, "Well, it's obvious that you can't! You can't even kill Fang!"
I shrank back, surprised by the anger in his eyes and voice. Three Darklings began to give chase, and without looking back, he sped away with them running after his heels.
"You should follow him," Fang cooed. "You wouldn't want him to get killed like his poor brother, do you?" My claws trembled in anger. No matter what happened, I couldn't leave Fang. I couldn't risk letting him escape.
He suddenly gave a wild burst of energy and tore free, racing away to the forest.
I sprinted after him, but without warning, a Darkling, larger than the others, loomed up in front of me. It screamed and lunged, missing my ear by an inch.
It landed a blow and I dodged it, my breath coming out in short gasps, and hurried after the fox.
His ginger tail disappeared among the trees and I growled in frustration.
Ignoring the screaming and howling of the shadowy beasts, I skirted the bushes and dove into the scorched forest.
Among the smell of smoke and dying flames, I caught a whiff of his musky scent, and followed.
A glimpse of a shock of red hair, and then we tackled and tumbled head over heels down the slope.
We collapsed at the bottom, snarling like a pair of wolverines, and we jabbed and spat with fury and power, black against ginger, teeth clashing against claws.
A screech rattled the trees and sent a flock of jackdaws squawking and fleeing for their lives.
We were surrounded by a band of snarling Darklings. Black saliva dripped from their jowls and oozed between their needle teeth. They looked starving and ready to sink their claws into my throat.
Fang howled triumphantly. "You're done for, cat! Your life is over!"
My heart pounded desperately. "N-no!" I gasped. Fang was supposed to die, not me!
The Darklings were closing in. I could count every one of their teeth, and their empty eyes were glaring and narrowed.
"Kill her, my allies!" Fang bellowed. "Together, we will face a new dawn!"
You are a fool, little fox. Do you know that?
Fang's eyes immediately hardened. "What did you say?"
A fool, a fool! The Darklings laughed. It was a cold sound.
Do you think that we'd really side with the likes of you?
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?"
Darklings do not work with foxes! Darklings live alone! The Darklings will reign supreme over the land with no one to stand in our way!
They cornered us and circled faster and faster, until they prepared to pounce.
Fear flashed in the fox's eyes. "No! You can't do this!"
My breath came in short gasps. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't take on all of them at once!
A shape moving among the trees, a crackle of ferns snapping underfoot, and suddenly Dewstep was at our rescue. He landed on the back of the largest one and bit into its thick neck. Black liquid oozed out and pooled at its feet.
"Run!" he meowed.
Fang didn't need to be told a second time. He was already dashing away.
I lingered, unsure of what to do, fear clouding my mind and making my fur stand on end.
Dewstep yowled, "Go after him! I can take care of everything else!"
The Darklings roared, and then I was away.
OoOooOoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooOOOOooOOoOOoOOooo
The dying sun was sinking below the horizon, stretching out the shadows and bathing the sky in a deep shade of red.
"I can hear the Darklings," Spottedpaw murmured nervously. He and Ember were crouched in the undergrowth.
"Do you think Shadefrost and Dewstep are alright?" he asked, swinging his head around to blink at the fox.
"I don't know."
They crouched there in silence, listening to the wind murmuring and the sound of the Darklings bellowing and screaming.
Something crashed through the woods, and a horde of Darklings streamed past them, oblivious to the two shapes trembling among the ferns.
Spottedpaw gulped quietly. "We have to do something about them," he whispered.
Ember was staring intently at the shadows that seemed to grow thinner and longer before her eyes. The sun was sinking and turning the sky into evening.
"Hey," she whispered suddenly. "The sun will make your shadow bigger. Maybe it'll scare the Darklings away."
Spottedpaw flattened his ears. "Are you sure it'll work?"
"It's worth a try."
Two Darklings blundered heavily through the woods, snarling and trampling the grass with their long, black limbs.
All of a sudden, a dark figure loomed up in front of them. It contorted and stretched and stood up and seemed to glare at them. The Darklings started and began to back away slowly in surprise.
The figure sharpened and expanded. Now it was bigger than the Darklings, and they had no choice but to scamper away, yelping and stumbling back to where they came from. If they squinted harder, they would have noticed that it was merely a shadow connected to a tiny, mottled brown cat.
Ember blinked. "It actually worked," she murmured.
Spottedpaw stared after them, a smile working at the corners of his mouth. "It was your idea."
"It was a great idea," Ember said, puffing out her chest.
They glanced at each other, and smiled. Another group of Darklings was passing them, and the fox and cat hidden among the ferns crouched down and prepared to attack.
oOoOooOoOOooOoOoOoOOooOOOOoOoOooOoOoOo
I had cornered Fang at last. Blood was dripping out of a scratch on his side, and we were both panting.
I had him in my reach. This was the end for him.
I raised my claw and tried to attack, but I found that I couldn't do it. The strength was leaving my body.
Fang's eyes narrowed into a questioning look. "Why won't you…"
An ear-splitting howl, and one wretched, shadowing beast crawled toward us. I leaped away before it reached me, and Fang's eyes grew wide in surprise as he tried to escape to safety.
The Darkling yanked at his tail, but he desperately sank his nails into the ground and tried to pull himself away.
I bunched up my muscles, preparing to leap and leave him to face his death alone.
But one look on his face made me freeze.
His golden eyes were glazed over with fear as he frantically clung to the ground, away from the snapping jaws of the Darkling. The color had drained from his face.
He was gasping something, and I had to strain to hear it.
"Please…cat…help me!"
His face had contorted into an expression of horror and revulsion. He looked like…he looked like…
Hazeltail and Graystripe, the last time I saw them, with their ears folded back against their heads and their gazes wide and mournful, and the way Spottedpaw looked in that den with the Darklings, and those cats, all of those cats, right before they died. StarClan only knows if that was what Snowstorm looked like, in front of the snapping jaws of a beast.
I stood rigid and stiff in my spot, unable to move. The Darkling was lurching and grinning hungrily.
Every part of my body had gone numb.
Voices repeated over and over again in my mind.
Why won't you kill him?
You can't kill me! You're too weak!
What was my purpose here? Why had StarClan called me here? In this dreadful, hollow place, in this Lake fraught with despair?
Was I chosen to kill? To slaughter?
You can't kill me! You're too weak!
I unsheathed my claws and yowled with fury, and pounced toward my enemy. Fang's golden eyes widened in terror as my claws flashed in the dying light.
The Darkling broke away and gurgled, black stuff leaking out of the gash in its neck. It let go of the fox and walked a few paces back, stumbled, and fell.
Fang collapsed and panted, brief shudders passing through his terrified form. Oddly, he looked much smaller. His fur was fluffed out and he tried to regain his breath.
Looming, I sheathed my claws and glared down at him. "I couldn't kill you, not because I was too weak," I muttered. "It's because I don't want to see another one die. There's already been too much death and suffering. Too much blood has been spilled."
He didn't say anything.
I continued, "I've been wondering why Firestar had chosen me of all people to come to the Clans. My purpose here wasn't to kill and slaughter and end life. It was to save. To preserve. To protect."
"So you'd just let me live?" he blurted out. "An old mutt like me? What kind of cat are you?"
"I had been wrong all this time. Killing you would turn me into a monster. You and I are nothing alike."
He tried to heave himself to his paws but collapsed again in exhaustion. He raised his head weakly and glowered. "Bird-brained idiot! You're supposed to attack me and get rid of me! You're a cat! Foxes and cats have been sworn enemies ever since the dawn of—"
He broke off abruptly when I brushed my tail gently over the scratch on his flank.
"Beat it," I growled softly. "I've got more important things to deal with right now. Don't let me catch you near the Lake ever again. If you ever show your face around here again, I won't hesitate to rip off your fur and feed you to the buzzards. Now get lost, coward, and don't come back."
I frowned at him as he slowly heaved himself up on shaky limbs, and then without looking up at me, he dragged himself away, looking like a mangy mutt with its tail between its legs.
I sniffed, and then abruptly turned. We both continued on separate ways, lengthening the distance between us, until he picked up his pace and scurried away.
OoOOoOOOOoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOooooooO
The Darklings were everywhere. I watched them from the cover of the undergrowth. The Clan cats, as far as I knew, were gathered and hidden on the Gathering island. How long would it be until they were discovered?
Think, I told myself. I wracked my brains. How could I seal the Darklings away, back into the Boneyard? Furled Bracken had said something, but I didn't know what.
Alright then. Start with what you do know. The Darklings were afraid of light and warmth, but it was impossible to keep the fire burning eternally. What was I supposed to do?
The Darklings had spotted me and were now lurching and sprinting toward my hiding place.
With a surge of fear, I leaped to my paws and dashed away, skirting the bushes and scrubs.
Instinctively, I headed toward ThunderClan, probably because I felt the safest there.
I stumbled through the thorn barrier, tearing my tail free from the trailing brambles. The Darklings were gaining on me. I could hear them crashing through the undergrowth.
Darting through the ashen remains of the camp, I skittered toward the warrior den, hoping to hide there.
It was dark and stuffy and smelled intensely of smoke and burning. A few singed moss nests remained, but that was all.
The nostalgia overwhelmed me so that I was gasping for air. I longed to be curled up safe among the warriors, warm and protected against my Clanmates.
The Darklings had entered the camp. I heard them growling and ramming themselves against the walls.
I shifted, and something hard poked me in the shin. In the darkness of the den, I reached out and placed my paw against its smooth and cold surface.
The piece of obsidian that a certain weasel had left me. I had completely forgotten about it.
Tucking it close against my side, I touched my nose against it and felt its icy sheen. I shivered with fear and clenched my eyes shut as the first Darkling snarled and pressed into the den.
Was this how I would die? I braced myself and waited for the feel of claws scorching down my pelt and the rasping of teeth at my neck.
Silence.
The attack never came.
Opening my eyes, I glanced up in confusion. The Darklings were backing away from me, the fear evident in their faces. They chittered with frustration.
What?
The shard of obsidian shifted next to me, and the Darklings shrank away further.
The obsidian!
I took it in my teeth, feeling the hardness of it and pushed my way out of the den.
The Darklings howled, and some of the weaker ones immediately turned and sprinted away. The others sniffed and rasped their claws in frustration.
What was so important about the obsidian?
It was the hardened form of lava, that much I knew. The Darklings would surely shy away from lava.
It made heat and light. And obsidian…?
In the weak, dusty light of the stars, I glanced down at the black shard. It looked familiar, like chipped black glass, or frozen dark water, or….
It was the rock that was in the room in the tunnels, that black boulder in the center of the fox's den that looked shiny and sharp-cut and solid.
But the tunnels had collapsed; I couldn't dig it out.
Taking the shard in my mouth, I hurried away. The Darklings hung after me, lurking among the shadows, flitting from tree to tree close by, but not so close that they'd burn up.
My mind was racing. Thoughts whirled in my skull, as quick and sharp as lightning. Furled Bracken…what did he do to seal the Darklings into the Boneyard? To make a barrier, making sure they'd get nowhere near the Clans?
I stopped in my tracks. The foxes had a whole block of obsidian in their den. Surely there would be more?
What if Furled Bracken had placed a barricade of obsidian around the border of the Boneyard and trapped the Darklings in? Over time, the dust and dirt would have settled in and buried it deep underground, but it would still hold most of its power. It must be. It had to be!
But where on earth did he find that much obsidian? Long ago, in the beginning of time, when the land was blackened and the sky was bare, there must have been a surplus of it. A long, long time ago, before the Lake was even formed. And now. Where did it go?
I picked up my pace and raced through the ash and soot, trees flashing like shadows past me, until I was at the edge of the Boneyard. My flanks heaved as I struggled to catch my breath.
A cold wind blew through the barren land, stirring up the dry bones and powdery dust.
I sniffed the dirt and pawed at it. On a closer look, it seemed disturbed, as if it had been dug up and buried again.
I sniffed the ground. Something in my mind whirled and clicked into place. The foxes knew. They had known all this time.
They had dug up the obsidian that surrounded the Boneyard, causing the Darklings to escape and leak out. Those stupid lowlifes. I gnashed my teeth in frustration at the thought of it.
But where had the foxes hidden all of it? Where did they put it all?
Something exploded in a flash of fur and fury, and three figures leaped out in terror out of the woods, a pair of Darklings hard on their heels.
"Shadefrost!" Spottedpaw yowled. His fur was fluffed up until he was twice his size. He and Ember and Dewstep halted next to me, eyes wide in dread.
I glared at the pair of shadowy figures and held up the stone that glimmered and flashed in the weak light of the stars.
They growled and snapped but wouldn't dare get near. After a while, they gave up and skirted back into the shadows, casting annoyed glances back as they left.
Dewstep sniffed it. "What's that thing?" he asked.
Ember replied without hesitating. "Obsidian."
A glimmer of hope. I spun around to face her. "You know about obsidian?" I asked. "Does Fang have any? Do you know where he hid all of it?"
"No. The only obsidian I ever saw was the boulder in the cave of the High Judgment. But it's buried now. It's too hard for us to dig it out."
Spottedpaw mewed hopefully, "But we could try, couldn't we?"
Before I could say anything, he darted forward and waved his tail. "Come on, Ember! We'll work together."
The fox's ears perked up, and I watched as the two of them raced down the slope, in the direction of the collapsed tunnels.
Dewstep gave his dusty chest fur a couple of licks. "Where's Fang?"
I didn't look at him, and kept my answer as vague as I could. "I dealt with him. He won't be bothering anyone anymore."
"You didn't kill him."
I winced, as if he had cuffed me.
His voice hardened. "He made the Darklings kill Snowstorm. Do you not remember?"
"Of course I remember."
I began to pace. "And we have bigger things to worry about. How do we lock the Darklings back into the Boneyard?"
We didn't have obsidian. So, find something else.
Something else, something else.
Like flint? I perked up, but then settled down again after realizing that there wouldn't be enough to go around. The Boneyard was as large and wide as a plain; a few pieces of flint wouldn't form a big enough border.
Not enough flint. It would only be a matter of time before the Darklings discovered the Clans' hiding place.
Dewstep sniffed the air as a strong whiff of something came our way. Fang! I could barely see his lithe shape slinking among the bushes.
A low growl came from Dewstep's throat and he immediately gave chase.
"Wait!" I meowed, but he ignored me and kept on running. I kicked up my paws and sped after him.
We zigzagged through the dusty stumps and sprinted past the remains of woodland and smoke. My paws thudded heavily on the ground.
I almost collided into him when Dewstep suddenly skidded to a halt without warning. We were in a clearing, charred and burnt and blackened until it was an unrecognizable ruin. It was the same place I had been in all those moons ago, the meadow with the tulips and dandelions and crickets. Now it was gone, nothing, dust.
Fang stood in the center of it, digging and snapping at something in the ground.
I growled, "I thought I told you to stay away from here!"
If he heard me, he gave no notice. He only kept burrowing at the patch of dirt without looking up.
Finally, he grunted. "When you came to the tunnels, you looked for me," he muttered. "But you couldn't find me, because I wasn't there. I was trying to find a perfect place to hide it, a place where nobody would…"
Dewstep hissed a warning and attacked. The fox looked up just in time and dodged the blow. I expected him to tackle and bite, but to my surprise, Fang only jumped up and swerved back into the forest. The moving patch of ginger fur disappeared among the shadows.
"What was that?" Dewstep hissed.
I darted forward and sniffed the place where Fang had stood. It didn't look different from its surroundings, but when I breathed deeper, I detected a faint whiff of something old and ancient.
Excitement coursed down my spine. I began to dig frantically and eagerly at the patch of ground.
"Help me dig," I told Dewstep, and without asking why, he obeyed. Side-by-side, we dug, scuffling up dirt and dust. The hole widened and deepened as we worked.
Far away, we could hear the distant screams of Darklings, but paid no mind to it. Grunting and heaving, I threw back rocks and pebbles until my claws struck something hard and smooth.
We began to move faster, quicker. Roots and rocks flew. Our claws were blurs.
When we could dig no more, I reached into the hole and pawed at something. It glinted, black and solid and cool to the touch. It had cracks on its smooth surface, like dark rivers.
"Obsidian," I breathed.
Together, we hauled it out, as much as we could carry.
"What's all that stuff doing here?" Dewstep asked. His brow was furrowed in confusion.
"I don't know." Obsidian formed near volcanoes, and it should be nowhere near the Lake. But, perhaps, a long, long time ago…
But surely, the obsidian shouldn't be here in the meadow, of all places. It was as if someone had found it somewhere else and dragged it back here, and then reburied it. As if someone was trying to hide it.
I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. "And why was Fang there?" I straightened up. "Maybe he was trying to lead us to this spot. He let us chase him here. And what was it he said?"
Dewstep snorted. "That's insane. That's the last thing a fox like him would ever do."
"Well. We'd better hurry up and rebuild the border."
OoOOoOoOoOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOoOooo
The night was darkening. The moon was barely visible behind a mask of wicked storm clouds.
The black stones proved to be a godsend. My paws were sore and my arms ached, but we had built a barrier around the Boneyard with it. The obsidian gleamed and jutted out from the dirt.
But there was just one more problem.
"How do we lure the Darklings in there?" Dewstep asked. "It's not like they're just going to walk in on their own."
"We herd them in," I replied. "Like sheep."
He rolled his eyes. "They are not sheep. Really—"
"Yeah, I get it. But we just need some live bait and lure them into the Boneyard, and when they're all inside…"
I looked around us. The land was mostly flat, but here and there, slopes and small cliffs poked out from the ground.
I pointed to them with my tail. "We'll have to rearrange the obsidian. Make it into a horseshoe shape, so there'll be a large opening where they'll be able to run into it. And then we carry the rest of the obsidian up one of those slopes and hide ourselves so they don't see, and when the Darklings chase the bait and run into the Boneyard, we'll roll the obsidian down there. It'll form a ring around them. A barrier. What do you think?"
"If you can't think of anything else. Let's try it."
OOoOooOoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOooOoooOooooo
We placed the obsidian around the Boneyard into a horseshoe shape, so that there would be a large enough opening where the Darklings would be able to run into.
The last of the obsidian was hidden on top of the highest and steepest slope. It would take just one little push, and then the entire thing would come tumbling down and halt to a rest at the bottom, completing the barrier and locking them in for good. That was what Furled Bracken did, wasn't it?
Dewstep and I crouched on top of the slope, the boulders perched behind us. Below us, the Darklings screeched.
I didn't want to face those monsters again. I could feel Dewstep trembling next to me.
If the bait were to falter, or go one step slower, the beasts wouldn't hesitate to kill. It was risky and dangerous.
Overhead, the sky was murky and dark and cold, like a brewing ocean. I heaved myself to my paws. "I should go," I mewed.
I turned to Dewstep. "Remember. Once the Darklings reach the Boneyard, heave the boulders off the slope and trap them."
His amber eyes flashed in the darkness. "I can't let you do this," he growled. "If the Darklings follow you into the ring, they won't be able to get out again. And you'll be stuck in there with them."
"It's my duty."
Ignoring him, I started my way down the hill. The weather was looking ugly. Thunder boomed overhead.
He yelled my name. The Darklings saw me and began to hiss.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured Snowstorm. I would be joining him soon.
Opening my eyes again, I faced the Darklings. My fur bristled. Be brave, I told myself.
Raising my voice above the sound of the wind, I yowled, "If you want to kill me so badly, then you might as well do it now! I'm open and vulnerable here. There's nowhere left for me to run!"
The Darklings opened their jaws wide, revealing jagged teeth, and lunged all at once. A claw caught me on my cheek and blood oozed out.
Dodging as many blows as I could, I zigzagged my way out, my eyes set on the Boneyard in the distance. I hoped I wouldn't mess this up.
My breath hitched. I was running out of strength. No, I couldn't give up now! I had to lead them to the Boneyard. Dewstep was waiting.
With a last burst of energy, I surged forward, aware of the roaring coming from up behind me.
"Move it!" someone snarled, and I was knocked off balance. I skirted to the side, but didn't stop running.
"Who do you think you are?" I growled. Fang was suddenly sprinting along-side me, his tail streaming out behind him.
He didn't reply, but kept his gaze fixed on ahead.
I was nearly there! My breath came in tired gasps.
Fang eyed me warily. The Darklings were gaining on us. Above the midst of their howling, I thought I heard the mews of Dewstep as he called out my name.
"Get out of my way," Fang suddenly barked. My ears pricked up. "What?"
The fox scowled and shoved me off to the side with a powerful thrust of his shoulders, causing me to trip on my tail and land, ungracefully, onto a patch of grass.
"What is wrong with you?!" I spat, but he was no longer looking at me.
The fox was yelling, not at me, but at the Darklings. "It's me that you want! Not some mangy, lowly cat! Shadefrost's power is nothing compared to me! I was the one who rallied you together! I was the one who promised a great new dawn!" His voice was hoarse. "I am Fang, the powerful leader of the foxes, and I will rise! Not even you can stop me!"
The Darklings chittered among one another.
"That's right! I am stronger than any of you! And I will prevail!" His words seemed to rile up the Darklings, and they began to creep closer. There was a murderous look on their faces. But I knew.
Fang barked, "Catch me if you can!" and sped away, toward the direction of the Boneyard.
Before he left, his gaze flickered toward mine, and we stared at each other for a heartbeat.
And then he was gone, the shadowy beasts lurching after his tail.
The Darklings never knew what hit them. Right on cue, Dewstep pushed the rest of the obsidian down the slope. The huge boulders tumbled into a blur, sending up clouds of dust as they raced each other down the hill. A few unfortunate beasts were crushed underneath the towering stones. The rest yelped and barked as they tried to escaped it, and dashed deeper into the Boneyard. They didn't expect to see more obsidian blocking their way to freedom.
It didn't take long. There was a mask of dust, a great deal of snarls and growls, and the obsidian stopped to a rest at the bottom.
Some of the beasts scratched at the dirt and tried to jump or squeeze through the gaps between the boulders, but only succeeded in getting themselves burnt. It repelled them, and they had no choice but to shy away.
I stood up on trembling legs, straining my neck, hoping to see a patch of bright ginger fur climbing up over the barrier.
But there was nothing.
The barrier was tall enough to obstruct the Darklings from view, and I couldn't see what was going on within its walls. I did hear some whines and scuffling, and then a clamping of jaws and howling.
"Shadefrost!"
Dewstep hurried toward me and scrambled to a halt by my side.
I was gasping for breath. My eyes were wide, and I could hardly stand. Dewstep let me lean on his shoulder.
"I…saw what happened," he said at last.
The first drops of rain pattered on our noses, cooling down the scorched earth. The stormy skies churned and let out a downpour. The blood on the ground was washed away along with the ashes and the remains of the ferocious fire.
"He saved me," I said at last. My voice trembled. "The last thing he ever did, and he chose to save me."
The raindrops fell and mottled the dry ground, singing a song with their pattering. The obsidian gleamed and shimmered. The clouds seemed to be roaring.
There was a smell in the land, a scent of rebirth and renewal, as the rain poured and cleaned the air.
And I realized, with a shuddering breath, that it was finally over. All of it. No more bloodshed, no more Darklings, no more Fang. I could finally rest now.
The rain continued to fall, singing in their sweet soprano voices and dampening my fur. Dewstep and I stood there, the two of us, and watched as the clouds began to lift.