CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The way back to camp was solemn. Russet followed along with the ShadowClan cats, padding alone behind Greywing and Redfur, who were carrying Seedfur's limp form over their backs. Just looking at the body made his stomach churn with disgust. Death, as it turned out, was not his friend. He couldn't imagine the sorrow her Clanmates must be feeling, but at the same time, he knew that if it weren't for him and Sootclaw, there would have been many more deaths today. By allowing the grey warrior to place some of the darkness in his mind, Russet had ensured they would win the battle. The others knew it, knew it but still they were uncomfortable looking at him. The ginger tom had thought saving them would mean redemption, but the air was still heavy with distrust.

Behind him walked the RiverClan cats. Many of them seemed uncomfortable with had had just happened, almost refusing to believe that WindClan had really been defeated, and Toadstar had declared that they would stay in ShadowClan camp overnight just to make sure that WindClan wasn't just pretending. It was an unlikely possibility, but it was still on the table, though Russet had difficulty believing that the dazed, meek cats who had emerged from the darkness were simply faking it. With the darkness in his mind, he believed Sootclaw wholeheartedly, knowing the pain it caused. It buzzed with every step he took, but he was strong. He could resist it.

But he couldn't fault the others for not entirely believing Sootclaw. After all, Russet had found it hard to believe when Sootclaw had leapt up and announced his power to all of them. It seemed like something out of a kit's tale, and Russet had initially found himself incredibly jealous of the ShadowClan – brave, respected, strong, and now also chosen by StarClan as one of their champions. But the more Russet thought about it, the more he realized it was also a curse. Everyone was starting to look at Sootclaw oddly, some in awe, but mostly in fear. Sootclaw wasn't normal anymore, and after spending moons away from the Clans, all Russet wanted to do... was be normal.

And to be better than he had been before.

So when Russet had seen Sootclaw keel over, falling against the ground, barely able to contain the darkness inside of him, he knew he needed to help. Just fighting WindClan wasn't enough. He had to forgive his rival, had to release his enmity, and potentially sacrifice his own life. The ginger tom was terrified of death, but in that moment... if he hadn't offered to help Sootclaw, he never would have been able to live with himself.

The alternative was living with the darkness.

It swam around in his mind, whispering to him, taking the form of Falconswoop and speaking in his voice. Russet struggled with it, struggled to keep it locked down. It made his whole body itch, but he wouldn't give in. He wasn't like the WindClan cats, who had no idea what was going on. He was strong. He was prepared to fight it. Then the darkness shifted, taking on the voice of Baron, chiding him, berating him, promising him great power.

I am not like you, Russet thought. I am not a killer. I'm a hero now.

A hero, but an unrecognized one. The thought weighed him down until he realized that Toadstar had padded up to walk beside him as they filed through the pine forest that was ShadowClan's territory. The black tom's expression was carefully neutral. "You did a brave thing back there," he said slowly.

Russet shrugged, knowing he had to act humble if he wanted a chance to get back into RiverClan. He was a hero, but he also had a lot to learn and a lot to do if he wanted to make up for his past transgressions. "It was the right thing to do," he mewed. "I didn't want anyone else to die." He paused. "I never wanted anyone to die."

Toadstar let out a sigh. "Russet, what you did in RiverClan..."

Russet cut him off. "I know it was wrong, Toadstar, and I know I let you down. I should have been stronger. But I was terrified of Falconswoop. I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to protect our Clan, but... it's true that I was envious of his power."

"Are you still?" asked Toadstar.

Russet shook his head. "I've realized that I'm not a killer. I don't want to hurt anyone. I do want to be strong, but... Real strength comes from protecting the weak, from upholding the warrior code, from making sacrifices and always pushing yourself to be better." The words sounded cheesy and rehearsed, but only because Russet had gone over them so many times in his head, impressing them upon himself. He honestly believed it, honestly thought he could channel his drive and ambition into something positive.

"Those are compelling words," mewed Toadstar, "but I don't know how I could trust you to keep them."

The RiverClan leader made a good point – Russet had no right to ask for his trust, not after what he had done. "I guess you can't," he said at length. "But I'm asking you to try."

Toadstar blinked and Russet saw something oddly like affection and pride welling up in his eyes. Then the black tom turned away. "You've really grown up," he said quietly. "As an apprentice, you never would have said any of this."

"I was mouse-brained," said Russet with a bleak chuckle. "But Toadstar, I am serious... I want nothing more than to come back to RiverClan."

"Okay," said Toadstar quietly. He looked extremely pensive as he swung his head back to stare at the massive ginger tom beside him. "On a provisional basis, of course, and without your warrior name until you prove yourself. But you can come back."

Russet's heart leaped with happiness and he thought it might swell out of his chest. He felt like dancing around and laughing, but it was too sombre a time. The excitement from Toadstar's words blasted through his mind, pushing back the darkness and granting him some reprieve. Visions filled his head – hunting with Lilypaw, and moons later, showing their kits how to hunt too; lazily sharing tongues with Hazelpaw and Goldenfur; and one day working his way up to deputy, quickly followed by leader. Russetstar, he thought.

And he was happy.

.

Once back in camp, they settled Seedfur's body down near the medicine cat's den, grieving before they had to bury her. Russet found himself hanging around with the RiverClan cats still, chatting with them, making small talk after Toadstar announced his intention to let Russet go back with them later. He asked all sorts of questions about what was happening, about the apprentices. Some of the things made him happy: Goldenfur and Hazelthorn were warriors now, Swampclaw had finally retired to be an elder. Some things made him sad – learning that Lilystream had bore Hazelthorn's kits was one of them, though Troutleap had made a point of telling him that the two weren't actually in love.

He had known since coming back that Toadstripe had become Toadstar, but it was now that he learned the circumstances and sadness of Rowanstar's death, and that Reedthroat had been selected as deputy. It was a good choice; Russet approved. Reedthroat was a strong warrior and Russet had always looked up to him.

After a while, he got to his paws and announced that he was going to go for a hunt. He wanted some time alone, and he also wanted to get back in the swing of things – hunting, patrolling, all of the activities the Clan cats did. Maybe, stalking his prey through moderately familiar territory, he could pretend he was a warrior again. It was fair of Toadstar to reserve his name until Russet had proven himself, but he wanted it so badly.

It wasn't long after Russet left camp that he came upon a familiar scent –

And stopped dead in his tracks.

Two cats stood in front of him, terribly familiar, their mouths twisted up into cruel grins. One was wickedly handsome with cold eyes, the other a tangled mess of fury. Flynn and Carrionpaw.

Baron's lieutenants.

They had followed him after all.

"Hello, Russet," said Flynn casually, but his whole body was tense as he waited for Russet to show any signs of movement. "Fancy meeting you here."

"You followed me," said Russet quietly. His eyes scanned from side to side. He could make a break for it, but that would lead them right back to ShadowClan camp – though he supposed they must already know about it.

"Of course," said Carrionpaw, baring his fangs. "Baron told you he was... interested."

"Why?" asked Russet. "To kill me?" Not now, not when he was so close to becoming a RiverClan warrior, not when he had finally figured himself out.

"No, don't be ridiculous," said Flynn. "You're not worth that much of our time. A failed member of Baron's crew, wandering around lost and confused? No."

"Then what?" asked Russet angrily. "And where's Baron?"

There was a silence and he felt the fur on the back of his neck prickle. He turned slowly, terrified, and there behind him stood the rogue king himself, massive and powerful. His head cocked to the side as he regarded Russet, his eyes cold and deadly. "Hello again, Russet."

Russet took a step backward, paws crunching against the snow, but Flynn and Carrionpaw were circling him, blocking off any way of escape. "What do you want?"

Baron nodded, as if Russet had asked a very good question. "You see," he began, in a deep, rumbling voice that completely horrified the ginger tom in front of him, "Where we're staying right now – it doesn't have a lot of shelter, a lot of room, a lot of prey. The snowstorm was a particularly unhappy time. But here, well, this is an entire territory full of food! A camp, with dens already prepared! Why would we go back to the city, a life of scrounging, when there's a land of such prosperity here? The cats currently trying to hold it – weakened from a long battle. I think this is the perfect place to make our now home."

Russet couldn't breathe. "You're going to take over ShadowClan?"

Baron nodded and unsheathed his claws, examining them idly. "And if the other Clans have something to say about it, well, we'll have a word with them too."

No. Russet had only wanted to be a warrior again, but now he had brought this horror down on an already weakened ShadowClan. They would never forgive him for this. And then he had a thought – did Baron realize that RiverClan was still in the camp? Had they accounted for fighting two Clans, instead of one? He could only hope so, that way the Clan cats would still maintain the element of surprise.

Then, from behind Baron, emerged a line of cats, slowly making their way through the trees. They stretched across his view, advancing, a line of rogues. Not just a line, an army.

Russet took another step backward, conscious of the rogues following his every move, and then he made a break for it, tearing through the snow back to ShadowClan camp. He heard Carrionpaw yowl, and heard their paws crunch through the snow as they followed him. He ran as fast as he could, dodging trees and jumping over thickets, knowing he had a slight advantage out in the wilderness.

Russet burst into camp, yowling as loudly as he could to try and warn the others. "Rogues! Rogues! They're coming! Protect the kits, the apprentices, we don't have a lot of time!"

Everyone stopped to stare at him. Toadstar took a hesitant step forward. "What's going on?"

"The rogues," Russet breathed. "They must have followed me – they want ShadowClan's camp and territory; they're going to kill everyone."

There was another question clear on Toadstar's muzzle, but before he could ask it, the rogues burst through the camp entrance and the battle began. Russet immediately found himself grappling with a large black and white she-cat, struggling to keep her from pinning him down. He managed to flip her over and scratch down her belly, causing her to yowl in pain. Russet pushed her aside and leapt away, looking for a safe spot from which to see what was happening.

He managed to find a moment of refuge crouching behind a den, and he peered out at camp. The rogues and the Clan cats were engaged in battle, one more terrifying that the earlier battle, because right now, everyone was aiming to kill. Near the front, Eaglestar fought Carrionpaw, while Sootclaw and Toadstar were tackling Flynn. The rogues outnumbered the Clan cats, but Russet knew that they wouldn't fight to the death – once it was clear they were losing the battle, they would clear out. He also saw Pigeonpaw slipping away from the fighting, sneaking out of camp through a hole in the back wall.

At first, he couldn't see Baron. Then his eyes located the tom sitting at the top of the camp entrance, surveying the scene. Baron swung his head from side to side, and then his gaze found Russet's, and he offered the ginger tom a chilling smile.

Russet couldn't stand it. He threw himself back into the fray at the first rogue he saw, which happened to be the grey-blue she-cat that reminded him of Lilystream. Anya. She recognized him and spat in his face. "Traitor," she hissed, as they rolled back and forth on the ground, each trying to gain a good position. Eventually Russet managed to hold her down, and he wanted to lung forward and dig his fangs into her throat, but he remembered how terrible it had felt last time and paused. Her face turned into Lilystream's and for a moment of all the force went out of his limbs. Anya took full advantage and raked her claws down the soft flesh of his belly, causing him to cry out in pain.

That was it. Kill her, said the darkness, but he threw it aside. He didn't need its advice. He didn't need to kill her. He was strong and powerful, and so he held her down and nipped the soft flesh between her neck and her shoulder, biting down hard enough to cause immense pain, but without the danger of killing her.

Anya let out a cry. He stepped back and let her stagger to her feet. She limped, unable to move where he had bit without intense pain. "Going to keep fighting?" he asked. "If I were you, I would leave."

"You and I both know Baron will kill me if I do that," she hissed back at him. "Why don't you do us both a favour and just end it now. Otherwise I will kill you."

Russet scoffed. "Not with a wound like that," he said, and then left her to stand there weakly.

Now, where was Baron? The massive reddish-brown tom was gone from the camp entrance, which meant that he had to be fighting, but Russet didn't see him anywhere. He worked his way through the battle, sliding between groups of brawling cats, until he caught sight of the tom's huge form leaning over the nursery. Sprucetail stood there, hissing at him, her kits all hidden behind her legs.

"Look," said Baron, in a deceptively calm tone. "I just want a kit. You can even pick which one. Just a kit, and we'll stop this fighting. If I had one, I could get your warriors to surrender, and no one would get hurt. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Sprucetail bared her fangs at him. "Never," she hissed.

"I could do it," volunteered Hailkit, trying to put on a brave face. He had no idea what he was signing up for, Russet was sure.

"Baron," said Russet, appearing behind him. Baron turned, looking mildly interested, his eyes cruel and calculating. Russet took a deep breath. He was willing to die to save Sootclaw. He had to be willing to do the same for ShadowClan. Protect the weak, he thought, looking at Hailkit. He reminded him so much of Hailstripe, lying there helplessly, a perfect target for Falconswoop. He should have protected Hailstripe.

He had to redeem himself.

"What is it, Russet?" asked Baron calmly.

"Fight me." It was a demand. Russet stared at him down. "You can't win your battles by hurting kits. Win them fair and square."

"Oh, Russet," said Baron, almost sadly. "You were so promising. But when will you learn – nothing is fair?"

And then the rogue leader leapt toward him, paws outstretched. Russet easily batted them away, and then the two were circling each other. A rogue jumped forward to help, but Baron signalled him away. This was a battle between the two of them. It reminded Russet of all of his training sessions with the rogues, except this was real, and it meant something. It was the difference between being a warrior and being just another coward.

Baron was waiting for him to make a move, and so Russet leapt, aiming to knock the large tom off-balance. But Baron simply re-adjusted, bending so Russet ran straight into his shoulders. Russet tumbled backward, took a deep breath, and pulled himself back up, barely managing to dodge to the side as Baron came barrelling toward him.

The next time, he wasn't so lucky.

Baron ran into him and the two fell to the ground, rolling over each other until Baron emerged on top. Russet immediately dug his back claws into the tom's underbelly, but Baron barely flinched, instead striking him over the head with a huge paw. Russet's vision blurred for a moment and his ears rang, but he gritted his teeth and got through the pain, doing his best to throw Baron off of him.

"You can't beat me," said Baron, leaning down close so he was whispering into Russet's ear. "I'm stronger than you."

"Maybe physically," spat Russet, "but not in spirit." The darkness coursed through him, tempting him, begging to be used. We'll help you, it said, calling to him. We can make you strong enough to defeat Baron. But Russet resisted. He had to do it himself.

He had to believe.

He struggled to escape from Baron's crushing weight, but the huge tom simply struck him over the head again. Russet cried out in pain, and then summoned all of his strength. He prepared himself to strike, his muscles coiled, putting as much power in them as he could. Then he pushed forward, displacing Baron, and rolling to the side.

But he barely got a chance to breathe before Baron was on him again, this time crushing down on his back. Russet's face was shoved into the dirt and he fought to maintain an air supply. "No" said Baron again. "I'm stronger in every way." Then the tom's teeth were digging into the back of his neck and Russet felt terrible pain overtake him.

This was it.

Blackness clouded his vision.

He waited for Baron to strike again, but then he felt the weight being dragged off of him. Russet rolled over, vision swimming, trying to figure out what was happening. The pain in his neck was killing him, but were was Baron? He managed to focus his eyes long enough to see the reddish-brown tom being subdued by three cats – Larchstripe, a huge golden tom, and a small brown one. Together, they managed to overcome Baron's strength and push him to the ground.

And there, behind them, Pigeonpaw. He had brought ThunderClan.

"I weakened him for you," called out Russet. Oh, he was hilarious when he was delirious. He blinked, trying to keep paying attention, but everything felt strange now, his body going numb.

Baron laughed, but it was a weakened sound. "Can you really kill me, Alder?" he asked.

The skinny brown tom reared back. "This is for everything, Baron," he said quietly. "For my father, for my band, for putting ThunderClan in danger. And, most of all, this is for me." And with that, he slashed across Baron's throat. Blood spilled out over the ground, sinking into the dirt and staining the snow red. Baron let out a terrible gurgle, and then lay still.

Baron was dead. Russet felt like laughing, but he couldn't move or speak. His eyes began to roll up in his head. What was happening? Was he... dying? He felt the darkness in him move, pulling down, as if it was trying to drag him through the ground. He was aware of his fur becoming hot and sticky, aware of his mind starting to sink.

But Baron was dead.

There was movement above him as blurred, darkened figures leaned into his field of view. "Russet," said one, angry, scared. "Russet!"

"He's gone," said another. Sootclaw?

Then, Toadstar, quietly murmuring. "From this day forward, you will be known as Russetheart. StarClan honours your bravery and your sacrifice and we welcome you as a full member... of RiverClan."

He pictured Lilystream's face in front of him. We're warriors now, he thought, and then everything was black.

X x x

Light shone down on the altar. The earth sounded like it was going to crack apart. Dawnpaw stood beside Shredtail and Worm, stomach turning with anxiety. Any second now, Sootclaw was going to come down through the portal, and she would ascend and pass him. Their eyes would meet and then he would be gone.

Forever.

But before anyone could come down, there was noise from behind them. "There they are!"

Dawnpaw whipped around, closely followed by Shredtail and Worm, to see three cats advancing toward them, one of them she instantly recognized as Hawkfrost. Then there was a tom with black fur and a brown underbelly, and a she-cat with short silver tabby fur.

"Shredtail," greeted Hawkfrost curtly. "I should have known it was you. How else would they have learned about WindClan? You've been aiding Dawnpaw this whole time – of course you would come to the altar."

"I'm sick of this, Hawkfrost," said Shredtail calmly. "I don't know what drives you to do this, to be evil, to continue fighting against StarClan. It's tiring and it's pointless."

Hawkfrost's lip curled up. "Pointless? Not now, not when we're so close to finally having our revenge on the Clans."

"We've tried this before," Shredtail hissed. "It didn't work last time, with the Three. And none of the times before that, before we were even here... the Dark Forest has never managed to defeat the Clans."

"This time is different," mewed Hawkfrost. "This time, StarClan is playing right into our paws. It's not too late to join us again, Shredtail. Just give up. Give us Dawnpaw. Thistleclaw will be so please when I return with her."

Shredtail shook his head. "I'm done with this, Hawkfrost. I just want some peace."

As they were talking, Worm crept closer to Dawnpaw. "When Sootclaw comes down, you have to run," he whispered, in the calmest voice she had ever heard him use. "You can't stop for anything."

Dawnpaw frowned. "What's going to happen?"

Worm grinned. "We're going to fight."

The noise became louder, and then there was another one was well, and they all looked up to the sky, which had opened even wider, allowing the light to beam down, illuminating the dark stone below. And then, coming down through it, was the figure of a cat. Dawnpaw's heart raced and even though she wanted to nothing more than to look away and pretend this wasn't happening, she couldn't tear her eyes away. It had to be Sootclaw.

Sootclaw was dead.

And then the cat came into view, and she paused. What? Huge build, ginger fur – that wasn't Sootclaw. It was Russetpaw.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Shredtail frowned. "I don't know. The darkness must have got into Russet somehow. When he died – it dragged him down here. But it doesn't matter, because you have to go."

Dawnpaw took one last look at him. "Thank you," she said, and then she ran toward the altar, preparing to leap on top of it.

"Stop her!" hissed Hawkfrost. "Antpelt, Frostjaw, go!" The two cats with him leapt forward, knocking into Dawnpaw's flank and pushing her to the ground. She let out a cry as she tumbled against the hard dirt.

Then Shredtail was there, pulling them off of her, somehow managing to fight both at once. Dawnpaw wriggled free and leapt onto the altar, allowing the light to bathe her. She stared at the scene. Shredtail held back the two warriors while Hawkfrost circled Worm, looking at him with a pitying expression. Then she felt a tingling in her paws and she began to rise through the air, floating above them all.

This was it. She was going home. Russetpaw was moving down toward her, and soon they would cross, and then her soul would return to the world of the living.

Down on the ground, Hawkfrost lunged at Worm and grabbed his tiny neck in his powerful jaws, thrashing the silver-brown tabby back and forth. Worm let out a cry and then was still, blood dripping from his neck.

Dawnpaw couldn't believe it. Was Worm dead? He had spent so much time helping her and Shredtail, and then to be killed... just like that... it was horrifying.

"Worm!" yowled Shredtail, in genuine concern, rushing over to his fallen friend. He pressed his nose into the tom's fur. "Worm," he mewed again. "We called you that for so long, but your soul is released now. Find peace... Darkstripe."

And Dawnpaw realized she was sad, that as much as she had pitied Worm – or Darkstripe, as was his warrior name – that she had come to rely on him and appreciate the help he had provided. But as sad as she was, she also felt happy, happy that he was no longer stuck in this darkness. There had been nothing else for him.

Then Dawnpaw watched as Shredtail bowled into Hawkfrost, knocking him over. Finally, she got to see Shredtail in action: pure, unrestricted malice and power as he fought Hawkfrost, his true, terrible strength shining through. Hawkfrost was no match for him, and it wasn't long before Shredtail slashed through the brown tabby's throat, leaving his body once more dead and lifeless.

And it was so easy.

Shredtail was so strong and powerful and he had held it all in to help her, and she would always owe him for that.

She continued to rise up until she was level with Russetpaw, who was looking at her in confusion. "What's going on?" he asked, angry, worried.

"I'm so sorry," said Dawnpaw. "This is the Dark Forest."

His eyes widened. "What?"

"What happened, Russetpaw?" she asked.

"Russetheart," he corrected her. "I... I don't know. I helped Sootclaw, I took the darkness from him, and I was fine... and then I was killed and now somehow I'm down here."

Dawnpaw could only look at him in sympathy. She felt bad for him, but a guilty part of her was so ridiculously happy that it wasn't Sootclaw standing across from her now. Russetheart look sad and lost, terrified of what was to come. He hadn't expected this – but to take the darkness from Sootclaw, that was brave.

She closed her eyes and probed through the dark. Shredtail?

Yes? He answered. He was far below her now, staring up into the darkness. Antpelt and Frostjaw had scattered.

Help Russetheart, she instructed him. Help him get to StarClan. They won't let him in, not at first, but you have to convince them.

The brown tabby let out a sigh. Dawnpaw...

Please, she begged.

He relented. Alright.

Dawnpaw opened her eyes. She was now above Russetheart, still floating up. "It's going to be alright," she called down to him. "Shredtail will help you."

He looked up at her, terrified, such a large warrior made to look so small. Dawnpaw had no idea what had happened up there, why Russetheart had returned from exile to save Sootclaw. He couldn't have known this would happen, couldn't have known the true extent of the sacrifice that he made. Dawnpaw knew she couldn't tell Sootclaw either. He would blame himself for this. She had to keep it a secret – pretend she had been able to rise up when WindClan was defeated.

And then she reached the sky. The light enfolded up her, rushing into it, until everything was white and she could barely breathe. There was an intense pain, and her body was gone, and then it was just her soul, rushing through the air, flying, until it landed, with a thump, right back where it belonged.

And with a gasp, Dawnpaw awoke.

XX XX XX XX

A/N: My emotionnsss! Writing Russet's death was probably the saddest I have ever been - he was so close to everything he had ever wanted :( And Darkstripe's death and moment of revelation was pretty bittersweet too, and ahh. Ahh. AAAAHHH.

Sorry for putting this up late, I had a busy week, but the next chapter is up and ready to go, and I'm like 500 words off from finishing the epilogue.

One more chapter. What more could possibly go wrong right? Right?

Thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)