Well, I really have nothing to say, except that it's been nearly a year since my last update. Yikes. But hey, it takes some people five years to write a book, and this insane fic is kind of getting there. So don't judge me, just be grateful I haven't forgotten where I was even going with this story. And don't get confused if I start waxing philosophical – college does that to you.
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It was as though the branches of some young tree had been fiercely growing all leafbare-long, and now Icestar could finally make out the pattern they cast in twisting shadows on the forest floor. As she stared down from the Great Rock at the cats of all Clans scattered around the hollow, every individual or group of cats presented itself as a different twig or leaf, all coming together into a map of what was to come. There was Eagleclaw, sitting proudly beside her sister, her golden tabby coat shining. Redwhisker and Rosepaw, Stonepelt with his broad shoulders and comically serious expression, Whitefoot looking as detached and resentful as ever. On the Great Rock, arranged in a semicircle to either side of Icestar, sat the other three leaders and their deputies. Guststar and Swiftfoot, pressed close to one another as though if separated they would be unable to stand; Toadstar, scrawny and dull-eyed, and beside him the towering form of Raggedpelt with his dark matted coat; and of course keen-eyed Floodstar, and at his shoulder Eelshadow, whose ears swiveled constantly in order to pick up every hushed murmur in the clearing, especially those words that weren't meant for him to hear.
"As I'm sure you've all noticed," Icestar meowed, watching as every pair of eyes in the hollow flickered to her face, and feeling a hum of power through her paws as they gripped the ancient stone beneath, "Greenleaf is finally upon us. ThunderClan is prospering. After a grim leafbare and many tragedies, our Clan is once again strong." A ripple of pride went through her pelt as Icestar proclaimed the power of her Clan. It was true: ThunderClan was regaining its strength while the other Clans were still weakened by the past seasons.
One after another the other three leaders came forward to mention news from their territories, though no one brought up anything of interest. Icestar watched the other cats carefully, marking the way Toadstar trembled like a leaf in the wind, and Guststar could hardly take a step without Swiftfoot nudging her on. When had her fellow leaders become so frail? It seemed only yesterday that Toadstar was the fiery mousebrain who had led a failed attack on the ThunderClan camp, and Guststar was the levelheaded warrior who brought order to Gatherings and took no nonsense from anyone. Now a single breath of wind might sweep them both from the Great Rock.
Floodstar, however, remained unchanged. He was as sleek and calm as the day Icestar had attended her first Gathering, fresh out of the Twolegplace. It seemed that nothing, not even the harshest of leafbares, could ruffle his immaculate dark pelt or make him blink his pale green eyes. A shiver of unease worked its way down to Icestar's tailtip. Floodstar was the only cat she could not account for in any of her grand schemes for the future of her Clan. She could not predict what he would do. Would he fight tooth and claw for his freedom? Would he roll over and seek to avoid conflict at any cost? He didn't seem like the kind of cat who liked to get blood on his claws, but then Icestar had never had much of a chance to test him. Floodstar always had strong warriors to do the dirty work for him, while he put his keen mind to work. The warriors Icestar could handle on her own, but the keen mind was another story. If only she could trust Eelshadow to put his arrogance aside and recognize that Floodstar was a formidable opponent.
Twitching her tail, Icestar turned her gaze to the former rogue, who sat nearby on the Great Rock, listening to Guststar speak in a feeble voice. Eelshadow was clever; Icestar knew that. He was quick thinking and cunning, and wouldn't let sentiment get in the way of success. But he thought too highly of himself. Icestar gave an imperceptible shake of her head. Even Eelshadow has a fatal flaw, she thought to herself. And then, as she watched Guststar return to her place on the Great Rock and Floodstar declared the Gathering finished, she wondered, But what's mine?
The leaders and their deputies dropped down onto the floor of the hollow and broke apart to mingle among the crowd of cats who were calling greetings to one another and making their way towards old friends. A soft pad of feet told Icestar that Redwhisker was at her side, and Icestar lowered her voice to greet the ginger she-cat.
"Heard anything interesting?" Icestar asked absent-mindedly.
"Oh you know, the usual stupid stories, mostly," answered the young warrior. Then a quiet purr made Icestar stop and turn to look at her. "And some casual gossip." The she-cat's muzzle was curved in a faint smile.
Icestar leaned back onto her haunches and cocked her head at her friend. "So? Who couldn't keep their mouth shut?" she asked with a sneer.
Redwhisker sat too and relayed the information that she had learned from conversing with cats from other clans. The she-cat had a talent for prying secrets from other cats' mouths.
"Nothing from RiverClan. They're as tight-lipped as ever, and there doesn't seem to be much strife inside the Clan."
Icestar doubted that, what with the untimely death first of Stoneheart and then Mintleaf, both deputies whose bodies had been found washed up downstream, both who had stood in the way of Eelshadow achieving his goal of becoming RiverClan deputy. Either Floodstar wasn't as keen as she gave him credit for, or he was simply good at keeping his warriors under tight control. Icestar was fairly certain of the latter.
"But WindClan and ShadowClan are both being talkative tonight," Redwhisker said quietly. "Mostly doom and gloom, you know. Toadstar hardly talks anymore, and Raggedpelt is as good as leader of ShadowClan."
Icestar nodded happily. "Good, Toadstar deserves to be the laughingstock of every cat in every Clan, especially his own warriors. He never should have been leader in the first place."
Redwhisker nodded agreement, and then continued. "And the same goes for WindClan. Nobody trusts Guststar to protect them anymore. Snowpaw says Guststar let a rabbit run right under her paws and didn't even chase it because she's so weak. She won't go anywhere or do anything without Swiftfoot, which means he's neglecting his duties as deputy because he won't leave her side, and so far no one else has stepped up to fill in the empty space. They're a mess, according to Snowpaw, who thinks it's all a big joke. As if every cat listening to her blab isn't planning which section of WindClan territory they'd most like to have for themselves." The she-cat finished with a snort of contempt.
"Well, that makes things easy. Like taking a mouse from an elder," Icestar said thoughtfully. She swept her tail affectionately across Redwhisker's ears. "Well done, little spy." Redwhisker gave an answering purr.
After giving her warriors time to talk with cats from other Clans, Icestar made her way to the lip of the hollow and waved her tail for the ThunderClan cats to leave. They gathered behind her, meowing goodbyes to old friends and new acquaintances, and then Icestar led them into the undergrowth, thick with new growth and full of the scents of prey. As she ran, feeling the thud of paws at her heels, Icestar went over the next stage of the plan in her head. It wouldn't be simple. Too much depended on chance, more than Icestar was comfortable with. But so far things had gone smoothly. No one suspected yet that the very ground was shifting beneath their feet, that in a few moons time the forest would be a very different place, if all went well. As she leapt over a fallen log, slick with green moss, Icestar flashed a glance up at the night sky. The stars were bright, like dewdrops speckled across a swath of inky grass. She wondered which warriors of StarClan were watching her right now, awaiting her next move. Would they approve? The memory of the night she had received her nine lives came to the surface of Icestar's mind, and with it the burning pain of each gift from her ancient clanmates.
She remembered Needleclaw, the small tom who had given her the power of justice, and wondered if he would think her actions were just. How could he judge her, living far away in the green meadows of Silverpelt, knowing nothing of the hardships in the forest? Justice was something every cat had to decide for themselves, and Icestar trusted that the fallen ancestors of ThunderClan would understand that. After all, was it right for Guststar to lead her clan to ruin because she was too frail to protect them, and unwilling to give way to a stronger cat? Was it right for Toadstar to turn his back on his clanmates, not caring whether they lived or died?
When she returned to camp, Icestar left Thrushwing to describe the events of the Gathering to the warriors awaiting their return. She took a mouse from the freshkill pile and retreated to her den to eat alone and think, before drifting into a deep and blissfully dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Icestar awoke early, before the birds nesting in trees overhead had begun singing their songs. Grateful for the silence, she slipped out of the camp by herself and made her way towards the RiverClan border. The sun climbed higher into the sky as she strode through the ferns, her paws completely silent against the soft earth. A warm breeze began to blow through the tops of the trees, ruffling Icestar's clean white pelt and bringing the sweet smells of greenleaf to her nose.
"Enjoying the pleasant weather?" came a musical hiss.
Icestar turned coolly to face the trunk of a willow tree overhanging the stream.
"You're trespassing on ThunderClan territory, Eelshadow," she said softly. His black tail flicked out of sight behind the tree.
"Am I? Great StarClan, I didn't notice. I always thought Sunningrocks belonged to RiverClan." His voice wafted out from behind the tree like the voice of a ghost.
With an exasperated growl, Icestar darted around the tree and came face to face with the lithe black warrior. "Don't start that with me, mousebrain. If you want Sunningrocks you can have it… later. For now, we have work to do."
"Touchy," Eelshadow purred, brushing her nose with his tailtip. His white fangs glinted in the pale morning sunlight reflected off the stream. The black tom was thin, showing the same gaunt ribs as the rest of his clanmates after the long prey-bare season, but Icestar knew she couldn't underestimate Eelshadow's strength. Even though he had sworn never to challenge her, Icestar was always wary of the RiverClan deputy; despite her skill, she could not be certain that Eelshadow would lose if it came to a battle between them.
"Were you listening to the talk at the Gathering?" Icestar questioned, ignoring his playful touch.
Eelshadow rolled his bright eyes. "You might as well ask me what I didn't hear. And it's not only owing to my sharp ears – it seems every cat had something to complain about last night. Except for you." He grinned again.
"I have more than enough to complain about, I just don't do it where traitors like you can hear me," Icestar snapped.
A flash of anger glittered in the depths of Eelshadow's eyes, and he whipped his tail through the air in annoyance. "No, you keep everything to yourself. Not even StarClan knows your secrets, isn't that right?" he quipped.
"Never mind, Eelshadow," Icestar sighed. "Just tell me you understand the next step?"
The black tom shrugged. "Certainly. It was my idea, after all. You're just doing the dirty work. It's amazing your little paws are always so clean." He bared his teeth at her and turned to go. Icestar felt a mixture of fury and distress churn in her chest, and she had to pause to let the emotions dissipate as quickly as they had come.
"How are you going to keep Floodstar in the dark?" Icestar called at his back as Eelshadow stepped into the reeds by the river's edge. He paused and turned to glance at her over his shoulder.
"I'll blind him with my brilliance," purred the black tom, and then he slipped into the tall grass and disappeared, leaving only the swaying of the pale stalks in his wake.
Disconcerted, Icestar gave her chest fur a few quick licks and then turned to head back into ThunderClan territory. She was glad it was early and there was no danger of running into the dawn patrol. With the return of order to ThunderClan, the patrol schedules had finally become routine, and she knew exactly when Thrushwing would set out for the RiverClan border. Icestar was still alone in the forest.
She hunted for a while, trying to clear her mind after the conversation with Eelshadow. He always managed to get under her skin, provoking her in a way no other cat could. It was as though she could never tell if he were joking, if he took anything seriously at all. Sometimes he would get very quiet and listen attentively to her every word, and she thought that he was finally getting down to business and putting his mind to their plan, but then he would just as quickly erupt into a yowl of laughter and she would wonder if he'd been listening at all. It wasn't that he didn't pay attention – Eelshadow knew the plan inside and out, and he carried out his duties with precision and diligence. It was simply that he wanted Icestar to be confused. He liked ruffling her pelt, making her angry. She hated him for it, but at the same time, though she didn't like to admit it to herself, she liked that he could make her feel; whether it was frustration, anger, or joy didn't matter, just as long as Icestar could feel the fire in her veins.
Growing bored, Icestar returned to camp empty-jawed. Sure enough, she passed Thrushwing on her way in and nodded to the tortoiseshell she-cat as she slipped out the bramble tunnel with Patchpaw, Robinwing and Dappletail on her heels.
"Everything's running smoothly," Stonepelt meowed to her as soon as he saw Icestar enter the camp. He came forward and pressed his nose briefly to her cheek. Icestar stiffened slightly at his touch, but the gray tom didn't notice. It was a good thing he was so blind with affection for her, or else Icestar wouldn't get away with half of the things she had or planned to.
"Stonepelt," she mewed as she made her way to the warriors' den, "I actually wanted to discuss something with you." She paused at the mouth of the den and looked him in the eye.
The gray tom cocked his head and nodded.
"I want to visit Highstones tonight," Icestar said. "ThunderClan is strong, and I feel like I can leave the safety of the Clan in your paws and Thrushwing's, just for a short while."
Stonepelt's ears twitched in surprise, but he nodded quickly. "Of course you can. Now that we've got patrols organized and everyone is finally well fed and well rested, it shouldn't be a problem at all. But who will you take to guard you?" He seemed surprised that she had mentioned him specifically as a protector of the camp, instead of as her companion on the journey.
Icestar smiled placidly. "Well, I was thinking of taking Shortwhisker… and Whitefoot, if you think she's free. I know she has her duties to Smallpaw, but maybe you could look after him, just while we're gone."
Again Stonepelt worked hard to conceal his surprise. "I'm sure she would be honored. Would you like me to bring her to your den now?"
"Thank you," Icestar mewed. For good measure, she returned his gesture of affection before turning and padding into the comforting darkness of her den.
If there was any cat in the clan that she liked less than Mossfur or Tansyleaf, mindless snobs that they were, it was Whitefoot. It wasn't that the senior warrior was particularly cruel or weak. Mostly, Icestar's dislike of her stemmed from the first day she had come to ThunderClan, when Whitefoot had protested her apprenticeship. It was always Whitefoot who sought to question whatever orders Icestar gave. It was technically her right, as a senior warrior, to give advice on how to lead the clan, but the black she-cat was simply a little too free with her words of wisdom. Not to mention, she had been suspicious of Icestar from the beginning. Now that would finally come to an end. The anticipation made Icestar's paws tingle.
A moment later, Whitefoot poked her head through the lichen wall of the leader's den.
"Stonepelt says you wanted to see me?" mewed Whitefoot, unable to smother the wary tone of her voice. Normally Whitefoot was the last warrior Icestar would call upon for help.
"I'm making the journey to Highstones tonight, and I want you and Shortwhisker to accompany me."
Whitefoot's eyes flashed wide. She opened her mouth as if to exclaim, and then caught herself and meowed, "I am honored. I'll go prepare immediately." She ducked out of the den, and Icestar was left to congratulate herself and look forward to the night's events. Two birds with one claw, she purred, and curled up in her nest to nap before setting out for the sacred stones.
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Be amazed.