Prologue

The forest was silent. Bluefur could still feel the eyes of her Clanmates on her back, though she was deep within the forest now and away from the camp. She shook her head – former Clanmates, she told herself. I am no ThunderClan cat any longer.

Her jaw set. The events of the battle would not stop washing over her, and she wished they would stop. She did not need the memories to remind her of what happened – she had failed in her plan, and had been exiled. Tigerstar led ThunderClan still, driving it to ruin with his soft heart… and it was all that kittypet's fault.

Bluefur's claws dug into the soft earth as she trotted along. She pretended that her claws weren't catching in the little roots of plants and vegetation, but that they were clawing up and down Tinyclaw's blasted pelt. Her own wounds still stung, but it didn't stop her from wishing that she had not been surprised. Tinyclaw would be dead if he hadn't pulled some fool trickery on me!

Bracken and bush and undergrowth and tree passed by her in a blur. None of it mattered anymore – this was not her home any longer. One day, she told herself. One day I will come back and destroy it all, raze it like fire and make the ashes mine.

That day is not today.

If ThunderClan thought she was beaten, they were fools. Bluefur was never beaten.

But what about what you've left behind? A small voice wondered. It was soft and sweet, buried deep within Bluefur, in a place she had locked away long ago. What about Oakheart, and your kits? Your friends?

The thought of her kits stung. Her babies, alone without her… but what could she do? There was no way to take them with her, into exile. They will be safe with ThunderClan, she thought resolutely, hoping it would quiet the small voice. When the time comes and it's safe for them, I will take my children back.

As for Oakheart… well, what was done was done. Bluefur had never thought Oakheart needed to be involved in her plans. Perhaps, though, if he had… No, she told herself. It does no good to dwell on that now. Oakheart hated her. He was too self-righteous for anything else. I must not look back, or I will be lost.

The ground rumbled beneath her paws, and suddenly Bluefur looked up – the forest had opened up around her, and the stink of the Thunderpath rolled over her in waves. A huge monster rolled past, roaring triumphantly. She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't noticed where she was, and now she was at the edge of ThunderClan territory.

She looked around. This was the agreed rendezvous point – but where were they others? The rogues, formerly of Brokentail's allegiance, had agreed to meet her here should things go awry. They were Brokentail's no longer, however – they were Bluefur's now. I lead not ThunderClan, but a band of rogues. Ech. She still did not like the trade.

A brief sniff told her where they were – hidden deep within a cluster of bushes pressed almost right against the Thunderpath. They stank even over the stench of the Twoleg construct. Bluefur made her way towards it – but was met by Darkstripe.

"There you are," he breathed. His yellow eyes flickered over her form, and he curled his lip. "Well, they didn't kill you at least."

"They were too soft for that," Bluefur rasped. "They should have killed me."

"Well, their foolishness is our victory," Darkstripe purred. His tail curled, and Bluefur frowned at that. "You're alive."

Bluefur pushed past him. Darkstripe grunted, obviously wanting more acknowledgement. He had always been needy for that sort of thing, and Bluefur had tried her best to wring it out of him. A cat needed no one's encouragement but their own, but Darkstripe still seemed to not understand.

Inside the cluster of bushes, crouched low beneath the leaves, were the rogues – former ShadowClan cats and a few outsiders, banded together by Brokentail and now in Bluefur's service. All of them were wounded, some worse than others. This small force should have been enough to take out what few ThunderClan cats there were in the camp, but reinforcements had come too quickly. The battle had been a failure, but they looked up at her with hope in their eyes.

"Bluefur," the ginger she-cat Russetfur meowed, "where's Brokenstar? You said -"

"Brokentail is still in ThunderClan." Bluefur cut her off sharply. Pelts rose, but before some cat spat she pointed out, "It was impossible for me to get him out, with all the warriors back in the camp. He is gone, if his wounds haven't killed him already. We cannot risk going back – you are with me now."

Her eyes measured every cat. Each one was looking at her with indignation, considering their options – they didn't have many. ShadowClan would not take them, and Bluefur had no intention of letting them leave anyway. It was Blackfoot who spoke:

"Then Brokentail is gone," he said simply. "We follow you now, Bluefur. Where do we go?"

Bluefur felt satisfaction flash in her pelt. Blackfoot was at least smart enough to be pragmatic about things. Darkstripe sidled up to her and frowned. "We can't stay here," he grunted. "ThunderClan will no doubt be patrolling soon. We need to leave."

As much as she hated the fact that Darkstripe had spoken up like that, Bluefur nodded in agreement. She looked over at the rogues. "Do any of you know a safe place? We need to tend to our wounds and heal before planning our next move." She did not want to admit that she knew little of the territory beyond her – former – borders.

With satisfaction, Blackfoot nodded. "I know a place," he rumbled. "No one will care to look for us there."

Bluefur bit her tongue. She didn't want to sleep in the Carrionplace, if that was what Blackfoot had in mind – but right now she needed their knowledge, and they all needed someplace where they wouldn't be noticed while they recovered.

"We'll move off soon, then," Bluefur decided. She planted her paws and growled, "Lick your wounds, friends -" that was a sickening word "- ThunderClan will not have long to celebrate their victory."

The rogues rumbled in agreement. Bluefur looked them over. They had failed once, yes – but only because of Tinyclaw. The mere thought of that wretched kittypet's name made her pelt flash with rage. How dare he! How dare he squander the gifts she had given him, the tools to become something so much better than himself!

He will pay, before any other, she thought venomously. She had seen so much potential in him, even if he had been nothing but a kittypet. My destiny is the rule the forest, and instead of ruling beside me, Tinyclaw will be the first to die.