Chapter 7

"Tigerstar, it's been a quarter-moon since we came back from the uplands," Tinyclaw meowed. He was careful not to mention the Moonstone – it seemed that just thinking about the incident made Tigerstar irate and irritable. "There has been no sign of WindClan or ShadowClan on our territory – or even RiverClan, for that matter." Tigerstar frowned, narrowing his eyes at Tinyclaw. Tinyclaw went on regardless: "The woods are full of prey, and we have so many apprentices in training that it's hard to keep three warriors in camp at all times. I think two would be plenty."

"And if we are attacked again?" Tigerstar wondered, his voice low and dangerous.

Tinyclaw frowned. "Tigerstar, if any of the Clans bore us hostility, I don't think Mudclaw would have let us leave the uplands." Alive, he added silently. That patrol could have easily ended them both, right then and there on the windswept hill.

"Fine," Tigerstar decided. His eyes were clouded and unreadable. "Only two warriors need to stay in camp."

"Thank you, Tigerstar." Tinyclaw tried not to let his relief show too much – only having to keep two warriors in camp now would make sorting patrols, hunting parties, apprentice training, and so much more a lot easier. "I'll go handle tomorrow's patrols."

He dipped his head and padded outside the den.

Almost immediately he was met with a curious crowd of warriors, all wondering what to do. Tinyclaw raised his tail for silence – got it – and took a deep breath. "Whitestorm, you lead the dawn patrol," he ordered. "Take Sandstorm and Ashpaw. Cinderpelt, Dustpelt, you'll guard the camp while I'm hunting with Cloudpaw." Tinyclaw saw Cinderpelt and Dustpelt glance at one another, then look away. He ignored it – their dispute was not his worry.

Tinyclaw swept on, feeling confident. He'd had a lot of practice handling the warriors and arranging things while Tigerstar spent most of his time in his den. Being deputy was getting easier. The thought was unsettling, and he swept it aside. "I'll leave it up to the rest of you whether you want to train your apprentices or take them hunting – but I want the fresh-kill pile as high as it is today. This weather has been fantastic, and we're all getting used to eating so well." An amused purr ran through the crowd.

"Runningwind, you lead tomorrow's sunhigh patrol," Tinyclaw went on. "Oakheart, you take sunset. You can choose who to take with you, just make sure they're informed."

Runningwind nodded in agreement, and so did Oakheart – but it was the older warrior who wondered, "Any word on who will be going to the Gathering tonight?"

Tinyclaw shook his head. "No idea," he admitted.

Longtail lashed his tail from just behind Oakheart. "Didn't Tigerstar tell you?" he wondered irritably. "Hasn't he decided yet?"

"He hasn't discussed it with me," Tinyclaw meowed firmly. "He will when he's decided and ready."

"He'd better tell us soon," Cinderpelt admitted. She was looking up, at the darkening sky. "Sunset is coming." Beside her, Dustpelt let out a grudging mutter of agreement.

"Then you all should eat," Tinyclaw suggested. "You'll need your strength for the Gathering, if you're chosen to go." A murmur of agreement settled in the crowd – only Longtail and Dustpelt looked irritated, but that was nothing new from either. The crowd melted away to their duties – but Tinyclaw did not get to his paws until the last was gone. He turned around and slipped back around to Tigerstar's den.

Tigerstar didn't mention the Gathering, he thought to himself. I was too worried about organizing patrols to ask. Did he forget? The thought was unsettling. Something had to truly, deeply be wrong with Tigerstar if he forgot about Gatherings.

"Ah, Tinyclaw," Tigerstar mewed, his tone surprised. Tinyclaw drew up at the lichen protecting Tigerstar's den, startled to see his leader just poking his head out, as if he meant to go outside himself. Tinyclaw stepped back and allowed Tigerstar room. Tigerstar stepped out into the dusk light, his pelt looking freshly-groomed for the first time in a while. "When you've eaten, bring together the warriors for the Gathering."

Tinyclaw swallowed. "Um… who shall I call?" he asked.

Tigerstar blinked. Then, he began listing names – it seemed so easy, so normal, and he hadn't forgotten a thing. Cloudpaw was not going, but Fernpaw and Ashpaw were. It came out so well that Tinyclaw wondered if Tigerstar had already told him, but that he'd just forgotten.

"Of course, Tigerstar," he meowed when Tigerstar was done, dipping his head. He turned away and headed for the fresh-kill pile.

There were some nice pieces left, but Tinyclaw left them for Tigerstar. The fat pigeon or the juicy-looking mouse might tempt him to eat more than one or two mouthfuls, and Tinyclaw was too unsettled by his leader's shifting moods to be very hungry. He picked up a vole and went on his way, heading towards his favorite eating place.

A prickle of unease crawled down his spine. Tinyclaw looked back, and saw that, just outside the nursery, Oakheart was eating with his kits bouncing around him and begging for a meal themselves. Only one was not pestering their father – Mistykit. She was looking straight at Tinyclaw.

Tinyclaw swallowed. Those blue eyes were hard to miss. He forced himself to nod at her and then look away, and to remember Brackenfur's words: They won't see the world the same way Bluefur did. He took his meal over to the nettle clump to eat.

When he was finished, he settled himself to wash and look about at the camp. With the days being hot and getting hotter, it seemed like dusk was now the prime time for sharing tongues. With Tinyclaw's own black pelt, he partially wished he could swim like RiverClan – the water must still be cold. In the cool shadows the ThunderClan cats were gathered, chatting and talking as if nothing bad had ever happened to them at all. He glanced over at the apprentice's den, wondering if Cloudpaw had forgotten she wasn't going to the Gathering.

She was there, wrestling with Ashpaw around the tree stump. Tinyclaw looked at the stump fondly, memories of his apprenticeship flooding over him – Cloudpaw seemed to at least be getting along with her denmates, and that was a good thing. Seeing that image, and thinking about his own apprenticeship, made Tinyclaw wonder if Graystripe would be at the Gathering tonight.

Unlikely, he told himself. He's had barely a moon to get into RiverClan's good graces, and with Leopardfur as deputy I doubt he'll get far. Tinyclaw didn't even know what Crookedstar – the father of Graystripe's mate, Silverstream – thought of the whole affair. Obviously Graystripe had been accepted, or perhaps Tinyclaw's good friend might have come back to ThunderClan. Even though it would mean that Graystripe was truly RiverClan, Tinyclaw still wished he might be there.

Tinyclaw pushed himself to his paws. The sun was sinking, and cats were growing impatient. He called together those Tigerstar had listed for the Gathering party – "Mousefur, Runningwind, Sandstorm, Cinderpelt, Swiftpaw, Ashpaw, Fernpaw, and Brightpaw!" Each cat clustered around him, and Tinyclaw realized that some cats seemed deliberately missing – Longtail and Dustpelt. Both had been working hard, but both had been very close to Bluefur and Darkstripe. Has Tigerstar left them out deliberately?

Yet the two didn't seem to see any hard feelings in it. Dustpelt only grunted when Cinderpelt told him that she'd tell him all about it, and Longtail offered congratulations to his apprentice Brightpaw, who looked nervous. Together, all the chosen cats waited near the camp entrance to wait for Tigerstar.

Tigerstar was sharing tongues with Whitestorm, seemingly unaware of the setting sun and the growing impatience of the Gathering party. There were mutters of being late, and Tinyclaw was about to get to his paws to get Tigerstar when the large tabby tom got to his paws and said good-bye to Whitestorm. As if he had intended to linger, Tigerstar joined them with all his confidence.

"Whitestorm will be in charge of the camp while we are gone," he announced.

"Tigerstar," Mousefur was very cautious. "What will you say to WindClan about barring your way to Highstones?"

Tinyclaw's shoulders tensed. Mousefur wanted to know if she ought to expect hostility from WindClan – but Tinyclaw wasn't sure if she would expect to get it from Tigerstar.

Yet his worries eased. Tigerstar seemed relaxed as he replied, "I will say nothing. They know that what they did was wrong. It's not worth disrupting the Gathering truce to point that out to them again."

The party agreed with somewhat reluctant nods. Tinyclaw didn't know if they saw wisdom or weakness in Tigerstar's words – but they followed him regardless as he led the way out of the camp and into the woods.

Tinyclaw squinted against sprayed dirt dust and pebbles as the party scrambled up the ravine. No rain had left the forest dry as a bleached bone, and it seemed like even the leaves were ready to crumble at a moment's notice. Once the whole group was up the ravine, Tigerstar went on ahead into the woods, and Tinyclaw kept back with the others as they raced silently through the trees.

Sandstorm matched his pace, catching up to him easily and matching him stride for stride. In an instant, Tinyclaw knew she could catch up to Tigerstar and be back before he knew it. "Tigerstar seems to be feeling well," she commented quietly.

"Yes," Tinyclaw agreed guardedly. He concentrated hard on not catching half his pelt in a bramble thicket.

"Yet he seems… distant," Sandstorm went on, her voice too low to carry. "He's not as…" Tinyclaw worried what she might say next. It was inevitable that the Clan would notice the changes in their leader – albeit a bit more slowly than he did.

"He's not himself," Sandstorm decided.

Tinyclaw didn't look at her. His worst fears were starting to come to life – the Clan was beginning to notice, more and more, and a clearer picture was being built in their minds. The moment they realized that Tigerstar was truly not himself, Tinyclaw had no clue what would happen.

"He's still very shaken," Tinyclaw reminded her. "Bluefur's treachery was a shock."

Sandstorm frowned. "I don't understand why he never suspected her," she grunted.

"Did you suspect her, before you knew what she did?" Tinyclaw countered frankly.

Sandstorm's tail fluffed, flustered. "Of course not," she admitted. "Sorry."

"He's taking us to the Gathering," Tinyclaw told her reassuringly. "It'll take some time, but he's still the same Tigerstar – you'll see."

They quickened their pace. Tinyclaw was painfully aware of how easily Sandstorm could outpace him, but was deliberately choosing to stay by his side. He was grateful for her presence as they leaped in fluid unison across a streambed – dry now, with the lack of rain. He decided to change the subject.

"Cinderpelt and Dustpelt have been hanging out a lot," he mentioned. "What's going on with that?"

Sandstorm threw him a dry look. "How should I know?" she wondered. "Is it a crime for two cats to talk or hunt together?"

"I just thought you would know, since you…" He trailed off.

Sandstorm frowned. "Since we're friends?" she finished.

Tinyclaw nodded.

Just when he thought she would snap at him, Sandstorm's eyes sparkled. "Dustpelt and I might be friends, but I've no control over who he spends his free time with. If he wants to hang out with Cinderpelt, and she wants to hang out with him, that's none of my – or your – business."

They crashed through dried ferns. Fourtrees was just ahead. Tinyclaw chuckled, "I just find it strange, seeing as how Dustpelt is as prickly as a hedgehog!"

Sandstorm laughed, too. "You'll have to talk to Cinderpelt, I think," she decided. "I mean, if you really want to get into that."

She allowed him to take the lead as the chatter quieted down and Fourtrees loomed up ahead. Tigerstar was just ahead of them, at the top of the slope that led into their side of the valley. He stood beside her as the rest of the Gathering party crowded around. Down below, moonlight sparkled into the hollow, glowing against the pelts of the Gathered cats. It seemed that ThunderClan was the last to arrive.

He looked at Tigerstar. The big tabby cat was looking at the Great Rock. Tinyclaw saw a small shudder roll down his spine. Tigerstar took a deep breath, then raised his tail. He and his cats plunged down into Fourtrees.

Tinyclaw kept his pace slow, looking about. The RiverClan cats had scattered amongst the others, but Tinyclaw had a feeling he could pick out Graystripe anywhere. Leopardfur, RiverClan's deputy, was chatting with a ShadowClan warrior he didn't know, and Crookedstar and Brambleclaw were silently watching over the clearing with hawk-like eyes. There were other RiverClan cats he both recognized and didn't, but as a ShadowClan apprentice made his way over to talk with Brightpaw, Tinyclaw sighed with disappointment. Graystripe was not here.

With one ear, Tinyclaw decided to listen to the ShadowClan apprentice and Brightpaw. They greeted one another not as enemies, but temporary allies. Then, the ShadowClan cat asked, "Have you seen any sign of those rogues anywhere? Nightstar still thinks they might be roaming around."

Tinyclaw's spine stiffened – those rogues were the ones who had attacked the ThunderClan camp at Bluefur's behest - but he relaxed as Brightpaw answered smoothly, "We've not scented them in our territory for a moon."

A RiverClan cat had joined them, nodding in agreement. "We've not seen them, either," they admitted. "Those rogues must be long gone by now."

Tinyclaw's throat was dry. I wish I could believe that, he thought. But knowing Bluefur, she – and those rogues – are still around somewhere.

To the side, Tinyclaw spotted Mudclaw and another WindClan warrior, Onewhisker, sitting together. Once, Tinyclaw would have gone to speak with Onewhisker – they had become friends since Tinyclaw had help bring WindClan home – but Tinyclaw didn't dare to even make eye contact now. There was no point in stirring up hostilities.

Yet it seemed like Mudclaw wanted to try something. Tinyclaw flexed his claws as Mudclaw looked at him deliberately, then leaned in to mutter something into Onewhisker's ear with a grin. Onewhisker, however, gave Tinyclaw a sympathetic look. Leaving Mudclaw annoyed, Onewhisker got to his paws and left his Clanmate alone in the crowd.

Tinyclaw swallowed a chuckle. No, that wouldn't help anything, he told himself. Yet seeing Mudclaw looking so annoyed made Tinyclaw feel a lot better about the whole situation. At least it seemed that there were some cats who remembered that ThunderClan had come to their aid when they were living beneath a Thunderpath. He stalked past them and headed for the head of the crowd, where the deputies took their places.

His confidence began to evaporate when he spotted Leopardfur. She was sitting with a ShadowClan warrior, talking. Even though she and Tinyclaw were equals in terms of Clan hierarchy, he knew she was a fierce and commanding she-cat. Ever since a small spat between ThunderClan and RiverClan near the gorge had resulted in the death of one of her warriors, Leopardfur had nothing but contempt for ThunderClan – especially Graystripe, who had been fighting the warrior who fell. Despite how she must hate Graystripe, Tinyclaw needed to know how his friend was doing. He dipped his head in greeting, and Leopardfur returned the gesture.

The ShadowClan cat tried – but his greeting was cut off by a bout of coughing. Tinyclaw and Leopardfur both stepped back in a mix of shock and disgust, and for the first time Tinyclaw noticed how ragged and thin the ShadowClan cats seemed. This one in particular had his ribs showing with every cough.

Embarrassed, the ShadowClan warrior stumbled away. Tinyclaw frowned after him, but Leopardfur merely began grooming herself. "Was… was he all right?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Did he look all right?" Leopardfur wondered sharply. She seemed disgusted – but not with Tinyclaw. "Cats shouldn't come to Gatherings riddled with sickness and disease."

"Is there anything we can do?" Tinyclaw asked.

Leopardfur shrugged. "Don't know," she meowed. "It's none of our business, at any rate. ShadowClan has a medicine cat."

Tinyclaw frowned. He supposed that was true.

Leopardfur's eyes glittered with curiosity, her disgust at ShadowClan gone now. She looked him over. "I hear you are ThunderClan's new deputy," she meowed. Tinyclaw wondered for a moment how she'd known – but then he recalled that Graystripe must have said something. "What happened to Bluefur? No one seems to know. Is she dead?"

Tinyclaw flicked his tail uncomfortably. Of course Leopardfur might waste no time in chatting about how ThunderClan had replaced a distinguished deputy with a kittypet – she seemed like just that type of cat. "What happened to Bluefur is none of your concern, or RiverClan's," he meowed, easily matching her cool tone. Will Tigerstar tell the truth of what happened? He wondered privately. The other Clans had to be wondering by now.

Leopardfur narrowed her eyes, but she didn't press. "So," she meowed, "did you come to brag about your new title or did you come to ask about your friend?"

Tinyclaw swallowed. Here she was, giving him a clear chance to ask after Graystripe. He nodded and wondered, "How is he?"

"He'll do," Leopardfur decided. "He's getting used to the water, but his fishing could use some work. It's always a hard thing to pick up. He's trying, and that's more than I expected." She idly drew a paw over her ear. "Silverstream is recovering, and she can nurse again. The kits seem to take after her."

Tinyclaw rolled his eyes. She was clearly trying to annoy him on purpose. He kept back a sharp reply as Mousefur came forward to join them.

"Hello, Leopardfur," Mousefur meowed coolly. "I hear there are new kits in RiverClan, aside from Graystripe's."

Leopardfur's eyes flashed with pride. "Yes," she confirmed. "StarClan has blessed our nursery this greenleaf."

Mousefur smirked and went on, "And aren't Tawnypelt's kits almost ready to be apprentices? You know, the ones that Tinyclaw and Graystripe saved from the floods last leaf-bare?"

Leopardfur stiffened. Tinyclaw did not miss the mischief in Mousefur's eye, or the thoughts in his own mind of Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw. He glanced up at Tigerstar, who was settling on the Great Rock. Did he know his kits were here? Was he looking for them? The thought passed, but by then Leopardfur had already whipped around and began stalking away.

"Don't worry," Mousefur chuckled, glancing at Tinyclaw with sympathy. "You'll find her less intimidating the more you get used to her. It drives her wild." She smiled. "The rest of RiverClan are more than happy to see us – you helped them during the floods, after all, and Silverstream and her kits are alive because of us."

"Graystripe hasn't been Leopardfur's favorite warrior though," Tinyclaw offered. "Not since Whiteclaw fell into the gorge."

Mousefur shrugged. "That wasn't Graystripe's fault – Leopardfur needs to learn to forgive and forget. Graystripe helped feed them when they were starving, and because of him Crookedstar has a safe daughter and two healthy grandkits. Don't mind me, but I think that's a good reason to pull your tail out of your backside." She drew a paw over her ear. "Did she ask about Bluefur?"

"Yes," Tinyclaw admitted.

"Everyone is wondering," Mousefur explained.

"And I suppose everyone is also wondering why a kittypet replaced her?"

"That too," Mousefur agreed. "Don't take it personally, Tinyclaw – we'd be just as curious about a sudden change in deputy in another Clan." Her eyes wandered, and then she mentioned, "Have you seen how small ShadowClan's patrol is tonight?"

"Yes," Tinyclaw meowed. "They seem… off."

"Sick, is more like it," Mousefur grunted. "They shouldn't have come if they can't say a few words without losing the rest of their breath in a coughing fit."

"Isn't it hairball season?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Mousefur frowned. "I suppose so."

A call came down from the Great Rock. All talking ceased, and all eyes turned upwards to Crookedstar, who had called out. He was standing atop the Great Rock now, shoulder-to-shoulder with Tigerstar. Both big cats were flanked by Tallstar and Nightstar, two smaller and slimmer cats and the leaders of WindClan and ShadowClan.

Tinyclaw could not take his eyes off of Nightstar. The sleek black tom was sleek no more – and he looked just as thin and ragged as the rest of his Clan. He was avoiding every eye, and even standing not-so-prominently on the Great Rock, as if he feared he might rub his illness off on every cat. Can furball season really do that to a cat? ShadowClan pelts were not particularly thick.

"Come on," Mousefur meowed quietly. Tinyclaw followed her to the head of the crowd, where they sat down together. Tawnypelt was sitting at his other flank, and she gave Tinyclaw a small mew of greeting, which he returned.

Crookedstar moved on the Great Rock. "Tigerstar wishes to speak first," he meowed. The pale cat stepped back, and Tigerstar pushed forward, his amber eyes scanning the whole clearing. He raised his voice, sounding as strong as he ever did:

"You may have heard from WindClan, but if you have not – Brokentail is dead!"

A grateful murmur rippled through the crowd. No cat seemed to care how it'd happened – except Nightstar, who was flicking his tail excitedly.

"How did he die?" Nightstar rasped. His eyes glowed bright.

But Tigerstar swept on, ignoring him: "ThunderClan has a new deputy!"

"So it's true what Riverclan's been saying!" a WindClan cat in the crowd meowed, shocked. "Something has happened to Bluefur!"

"Is she dead, too?" Mudclaw demanded. Suddenly the entire crowd was a volley of concerned cries, all wondering what had happened to Bluefur. Tinyclaw trembled. They don't know, he told himself. They don't know what she did to us. What she wanted to do to us. But… but how can they all be so ignorant? Bluefur had been a warrior respected by all the Clans, and the combined cries and demands to know her fate were almost too much for someone who knew what she'd really been like.

"Did she die of sickness?"

"An accident?"

"Did Brokentail do it?"

Mousefur stiffened beside him, and Tinyclaw sensed that every ThunderClan cat was tensed – even Tigerstar, for a moment, faltered and looked unwilling to go on. No cat was willing to talk about what had happened.

Finally, Tigerstar roared, "Bluefur's fate is ThunderClan's business, and ThunderClan's business alone!"

Tinyclaw swallowed. The Clans fell into a disgruntled muttering, their curiosity clearly unsatisfied. Tigerstar's eyes burned into each and every one of them, daring some cat to say something. No one did. Tinyclaw frowned, wondering if Tigerstar ought to have just told the truth – that Bluefur and Darkstripe were dangerous, and possibly leading a band of rogues in Clan territory.

Yet she didn't say a thing more about it. Instead, she merely stated, "Tinyclaw is the new deputy of ThunderClan."

Dozens of heads whipped about to look directly at Tinyclaw. Suddenly, he was the center of attention, and silence spread through the Gathering like a storm front. His paws kneaded the earth. He was more than painfully aware of the silence, of the breathing, and of every eye centered unblinkingly on him.