0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"There is nothing more I can do. His life is in the paws of StarClan now, and our only hope is to have faith that our warrior ancestors will be merciful."
Shortwhisker's words rang out across the camp clearing, cold and remote.
For a moment, no one moved. Not a single sound could be heard throughout the entire clearing, not even the breaths of the warriors sitting in a semicircle around the Highstone. Then, like the chirping of a bird, a timid voice piped up: "Will Cinderstar die?"
Tiny Redkit had stepped forward, escaping from her mother Specklefoot's grasp, and was staring up at Shortwhisker with wide amber eyes. Icefang smothered a grin. This little kit was bound for greatness; there was no doubt about it.
Shortwhisker's eyes narrowed, and he watched in silence as Specklefoot rushed forward and gathered her daughter to her, rushing the red she-cat and the rest of her siblings into the nursery, murmuring to them in a voice tight with anxiety. Icefang watched her hurry away with a smug expression on her face, her tail twitching languidly. Why everyone was so worked up she didn't know – after all, it was only one little life.
Almost as soon as Cinderstar, Icefang and Stonepelt had returned to camp from their journey to the moonstone, the gray leader had started to cough violently, his body wracked by convulsions that caused his eyes to water and his paws twitch. Immediately, Shortwhisker had dragged the tom into the medicine den and snarled at any warrior who approached, keeping only Sparrowpaw close to his side.
They were in there for almost the entire day, while the rest of the Clan went about their duties and Stonepelt and Icefang slept, as was their right after accompanying their leader on the long trek to Highstones. When she had awoken, the Clan had been in uproar, already beginning to assemble by the Highstone to demand information on the health of their leader. After the shouting had started, Shortwhisker had emerged, his expression grave, and relayed the news that Cinderstar had contracted a particularly bad case of whitecough.
As he had said, there was nothing more they could do. Icefang had been a little startled at first, but by now she'd lost any interest in the matter. As far as she was concerned, as long as it was someone else in the medicine den and not herself, there was nothing to get terribly worked up about. Besides, Cinderstar would come through okay, StarClan would see to that. And this would make it that much easier for Icefang in the end.
Bored and hungry, Icefang trudged over to the fresh kill pile, which was looking a little low. She glanced around – cats were meandering back and forth, their eyes glazed with fear for their leader. No apprentices were about – that probably explained the shortage of food. Annoyed, Icefang trotted to the apprentices' den. Yellowpaw and Eaglepaw were both inside, conversing in low voices.
"Eaglepaw, Yellowpaw, stop chattering and get to work. Just because Cinderstar is ill doesn't mean the Clan can't function just like it always does. Get out here," Icefang commanded firmly, glaring at the she-cats. Startled, they leapt to the feet and scampered out of the den.
"Yes Icefang, sorry," stammered Yellowpaw, her whiskers quivering. She sat beside her sister, her spine rigid, watching Icefang as she nodded briefly to them. The white she-cat turned to survey the camp once more.
"Ashfoot, Robinwing, you take Yellowpaw and Eaglepaw on a patrol. Run the whole border, but be back before sunset. Hunt if you can," she called, beckoning to the two warriors. They immediately dashed over.
"Brightpool…" began Ashfoot, frowning.
"Brightpool's busy," Icefang cut him off with a snort. She didn't know where the deputy was, but she obviously wasn't doing her job, and the Clan wouldn't be efficient without someone telling them what to do.
"Okay, Icefang," mewed Robinwing, flicking her ears in acknowledgement. "Come on, Yellowpaw and Eaglepaw. Let's get a move on." The cats left quickly.
Icefang smiled to herself, feeling proud. If Cinderstar were healthy he'd probably be unhappy with her, ordering around a senior warrior without the title of deputy to back up her authority. But since Cinderstar was sick and Brightpool was nowhere to be found, no one else was stepping in to take up the duties. Besides, it was good to show the cats that she didn't balk at responsibility. She knew that Eaglepaw and Yellowpaw respected her, and Robinwing would blindly do as she Icefang told her, but getting Ashfoot under her paw would be a useful measure.
Satisfied, the warrior padded back to the fresh kill pile and snatched up one of the few remaining mice. She ate quickly and then buried the remains. After sending Ashfoot and the others on patrol, she was feeling energized. What else could she accomplish without Cinderstar breathing down her neck. And then it came to her: Brightpool. The she-cat was obviously in the way. Something needed to be done about her before the Clan got to comfortable with the she-cat's lax authority.
However, this operation would have to be careful, subtle. The Clan was still on edge after Oakshadow's death, and now Cinderstar's illness. They would be alert to anything suspicious, and outright murder probably wouldn't go over well. The she-cat grinned to herself.
She had the beginnings of a plan. Now all she had to do was set it in motion.
Icefang walked over to the elders' den in a way that looked like aimless wandering in a state of shock. Fortunately, Mossfur was gone, collecting herbs with Sparrowpaw. They still hadn't found another source of catmint, but Shortwhisker wasn't giving up yet. He wanted to ask the other Clans only as a last resort.
Palenose and Quickstep were lounging in the shade of the log where they made their home. Despite the cold weather, they didn't like being cramped inside the crawl space for very long. Icefang padded towards them.
"Good afternoon, Icefang," greeted Palenose, glancing up and nodding to the she-cat. Icefang smiled politely back at her.
"Hello. I hope you don't mind; everyone's so anxious about Cinderstar I just felt like a needed a quiet spot to think. Can I sit over here with you?" asked the white warrior sweetly, her tail switching back and forth. Her blue eyes were wide, innocent.
"Of course, though I don't know if you'll find us very quiet," Palenose mewed with a gentle laugh. "You know how old Quickstep and I lover our gossip."
"It's no problem. Thank you very much," Icefang meowed, her voice sugar sweet. But she wasn't: it wasn't a problem at all. The warrior flopped down a tail-length or so away from the elders and put her nose between her paws, closing her eyes. Her ears swiveled sideways to catch their muffled conversation, and the hint of a smile twitched at her lips.
"Most curious," Quickstep was agreeing in a gravelly voice. It had once had a soft melody to it, but the cadence had been roughened by old age. "I don't know Brightpool too well myself, but it is strange none-the-less."
Immediately Icefang's ears pricked up, and a thrill went down her spine. It was too perfect, almost as if StarClan had wanted her to hear. She knew about the old queens' insatiable habit of gossiping, had even resented it as an apprentice when she'd been forced to listen to their incessant chatter while cleaning their dens or checking their fur for ticks, but she'd filed the information away very carefully, and now it would finally be useful to her.
"When I heard that Cinderstar had taken Stonepelt and Icefang with him instead of his deputy or a more senior warrior like Whitefoot, I admit I was a little surprised," mewed Palenose. "Usually leaders put such trust in their oldest warriors. I know Brindlestar and Tanglethorn were very close – she took he and Cinderstar everywhere with her."
"It's most unusual, most curious," agreed Quickstep slowly. "Icefang's so young, and yet Cinderstar seems to put such trust in her."
At these words Icefang's heartbeat quickened with excitement. Was it true? She knew that Cinderstar relied on her for many things – she'd tried to make sure that she was the first cat he went to for advice on almost anything, but like the elders had said, leaders usually relied on their senior warriors for things like that. But if other cats had begun to notice, even silly old gossips like Palenose and Quickstep, her plan must be working.
They continued: "And Brightpool's got such an aggressive character. I was speaking to her the other day about the sickness, you know, asking whether she thought it would spread to the elders' den or the nursery, and she just snapped at me and told me mind my own business. Imagine that! Asking after the well being of the Clan, that's all I was doing, and she a young cat telling me to mind my own business. I had a mind to tell her, I've been in more battles than stripes on her pelt," said Quickstep indignantly.
Icefang had to smother a laugh. She was aware of Quickstep's battle prowess. In her prime, the she-cat had been one of ThunderClan's greatest warriors, fast on her feet and with her claws, hence her name. Brightpool was no such celebrity – she had no outstanding talents besides her seniority. Granted, with such a small Clan seniority was something to prize, but in Brightpool's case it didn't necessarily make her a better warrior.
"What are your thoughts on the matter, Icefang?" came a sudden meow. The white she-cat almost jumped, but she knew it might giver her away, so she looked up with a confused glimmer in her eye.
"Sorry Palenose, what matter?" she questioned, cocking her head.
"Cinderstar didn't ask Brightpool to accompany him to Highstones. You probably know her better than we do – any thoughts on why?" questioned the tabby elder eagerly. Under normal circumstances, Icefang wouldn't have answered. More often than not, a warrior gossiping about another warrior could cause problems, and Icefang liked to avoid anything to draw suspicion, but in this particular case it was all part of her scheme.
"Well, don't mention to anyone that I told you this, but I have heard a few rumors," she meowed in a low voice, scooting closer. The elders leaned in, anticipation making their whiskers quiver. Icefang was playing to their flaws, but she'd left guilt behind a long time ago. With a solemn frown, the she-cat mewed, "Cinderstar isn't sure that he made the right choice by promoting Brightpool to deputy. At the time it seemed like a good idea, her being one of the most experienced warriors in the Clan, but he's seen Brightpool's true character, and he doesn't like. In fact, I heard the other day that he wasn't even sure she was completely loyal to ThunderClan."
As expected, both elders let out little gasps and leaned in even closer. "Not loyal?" Quickstep breathed, as if it was the most heinous crime a cat could commit, next to murder or sacrilege.
Icefang nodded severely. "Apparently she's been sneaking out of camp at night sometimes, or shirking her duties to walk in the forest on her own."
"Do you think she's meeting with other Clans?" Quickstep pressed, horrified. "Maybe even passing on information about ThunderClan! If she tells other Clans about the fire, and the sickness, they'd think there's nothing stopping them from stealing our territory!" The black she-cat whimpered in fear. Disloyalty appeared to be pretty high on her list of soul-damning sins.
"How could Cinderstar put her in command?" Palenose growled. "I always knew Brightpool was full of tricks. In fact, she's always seemed a little bit on the suspicious side to me." And then they were off, murmuring fervently to each other about how they'd always suspected Brightpool of disloyalty. Pleased with herself, Icefang slipped away.
It was nearly sunset, and at any moment the patrol would probably return with more fresh kill and news of the outside. Icefang padded to a secluded nook beneath an overhanging tree branch and settled down to think. She'd planted the first seeds of doubt in the minds of her Clanmates. What with Palenose and Quickstep's affinity for gossip, the news of Brightpool's questionable loyalty would probably be all over the Clan by tomorrow morning. Knowing them, they'd already forgotten who started the rumors, probably even thought they'd thought of it themselves. All the better – if Icefang could escape any notice at all she was happy, and if one cat managed to trace the rumors to their source… well, she could handle that.
"Nooo!"
The sudden wail sent Icefang leaping to her feet, her pelt fluffed out to twice her normal size. Teeth on edge, Icefang paused, waiting.
"No, StarClan! Noo, no…" It came again, shrill and blood-chilling. Icefang swallowed a deep breath, closing her eyes until her fur lay flat again. Meanwhile, a commotion had arisen throughout the camp. Where had the shout come from? What was going on? Somehow, Icefang had a feeling that she already knew the answer.
Her patrol chose that moment to come charging into camp, their jaws laden with fresh prey. Icefang was in the process of picking her way across the clearing to the medicine den in the midst of the terrified frenzy of cats when Eaglepaw and Robinwing caught up with her.
"What's going on?" Robinwing hissed anxiously, her eyes wide and fearful.
Icefang opened her mouth to give a curt reply, but she didn't need to say anything. At that moment, Shortwhisker staggered out of the medicine den, his fur sticking out at odd angles.
"Cinderstar has lost his seventh life," announced the old gray tom in a hoarse, agonized moan.
Icefang braced herself for the wave of exclamations that threatened to drown her, as her Clanmates comprehended Shortwhisker's words. Sparrowpaw, who had returned from gathering herbs, scampered around, calming everyone and giving reassurance. Slightly agitated by the ferocity of the emotions in the air, Icefang slipped out of the crowd, her eyes narrowed with distaste.
Ashfoot and Leafspots were whispering in a shadowed corner, their whiskers quivering. Curious, Icefang padded close enough to catch their murmured words.
"Surely we are cursed," Leafspots mewled miserably, her head hanging.
"Why? Why would StarClan cause ThunderClan so much pain?" Ashfoot questioned, glancing up at the tortoiseshell warrior, eyes glazed. "What have we done?"
With a sharp intake of breath, Icefang flinched away. This again. She knew what they would say. That it was all her fault, that allowing her to join ThunderClan had brought the wrath of their ancestors upon them. That she should be cast out, murdered maybe. They would lay all the blame on her. After all, who else but a filthy, heartless, traitorous…kittypet?
Snarling softly under her breath, Icefang turned to stalk away, her thoughts black. But Leafspots' next words froze her in her tracks.
"I heard a rumor, from Quickstep. She says that…she thinks Brightpool may be a traitor. Apparently she sneaks away during the night sometimes, and she doesn't listen to Cinderstar's advice. Do you think that could be the reason? I never thought… but Brightpool has been very cold lately. In fact, she never was very nice to me, or anyone for that matter. Maybe it's her fault."
Icefang's heart beat faster. Her breath caught in her throat, and her muzzle suddenly twisted into a delighted grin. They didn't hate her! Her plan had worked. She had successfully shifted all suspicion from her own shoulders onto Brightpool's. Huh, she thought to herself, gleefully. Never underestimate the kittypet.