Chapter 15
The wet moss in Tinyclaw's jaws dripped all the way home. The water cooled his chest and his front paws – but there would be enough to quench the queens and their kits until more could be gotten after sunset.
As the sun began to slowly sink the Clan was gathered in small groups in the growing shade, sharing tongues and eating. They paused briefly between licks or mouthfuls to greet Tinyclaw as he padded through the entrance and headed for the nursery. Tinyclaw gave a nod to Mousefur, Runningwind, Thornpaw, and Longtail, who were setting out on the evening patrol. The extra cat on each patrol made it hard to organize things, but it put Tinyclaw's mind at ease.
Near the elder's den, Brindleface was readying another water-gathering party. The elders were clustered around her near the fallen oak, and as Tinyclaw passed he caught wind of Smallear's determined mew: "We'll need to keep our eyes and ears sharp while traveling in the dusk," he said. "You see that nick in my ear? Got it from an owl as it tried to pick me up for supper!"
"You did not!" admonished Dappletail.
Smallear's reply was cut off as Tinyclaw moved out of range. The fur along his back was smooth, relaxed in knowing that Clan life was just. Normal. The ShadowClan cats were gone, and Tinyclaw had seen Graystripe. For once, his head wasn't buzzing with worry. He slipped into the nursery and placed the moss ball beside Willowpelt, who was lounging on her side in the cool dark.
"Thank you, Tinyclaw," she murmured, giving it a lick.
"There will be more after sunset," Tinyclaw promised. Willowpelt took the moss ball and put it centrally in the nursery. Tinyclaw tried to ignore Bluefur's kits as they scrambled for a drink, but their gleaming eyes and purrs were hard to put out of his mind. Willowpelt's own kits looked too feeble for water, and they wiggled silently in their nest. Willowpelt gently squeezed the moss ball so that they could have more.
"Brindleface is leading the elders to the river to get more water," he explained. "Once the sun has set the woods ought to be clear of Twolegs."
"It's been a while since some of them have been out that far," Willowpelt meowed, her whiskers twitching. "Not to mention after dark."
"I think they'll enjoy it," Tinyclaw told her. "Smallear was trying to tell a story about how an owl once tried to carry him off."
Willowpelt chuckled. "Any other cat would tell you different," she mewed. "They could use the exercise." She squeezed out some more water. "I'll tell you Tinyclaw, I wish I was out there with them. My legs could use a good jaunt through the woods."
"You miss being a warrior?" Tinyclaw guessed. The nursery was so comfortable, Tinyclaw hadn't thought that Willowpelt would hanker for her old life.
Willowpelt glanced at him, then down at the kittens, greedily drinking and purring at her paws. "Oh, I do," she said. "But these little ones… I look forward to raising them and helping them grow." She looked back up at Tinyclaw, her eyes soft, but filled with determination. "I will love my kits forever."
Tinyclaw's whiskers twitched as she went on: "But I miss running through the forest, hunting prey through the undergrowth." Willowpelt smiled fondly down at her little wiggly bundles in her nest. "I will enjoy taking them out into the forest with me for the first time."
"Can we come?" Stonekit wondered, looking up from the moss ball. His muzzle glistened with wetness.
"Can we?" repeated Mistykit. Mosskit looked up too, eyes bulging at the thought.
Willowpelt looked down at them, chuckling. "Of course," she said. "Oakheart can come, too."
"He can bring Fernpaw!" Mosskit chimed. "She can teach us how to hunt!"
Willowpelt purred at the kits, looking warmly at Tinyclaw. "That is up to Tinyclaw," she told them. "He is deputy, after all."
The kits suddenly looked at him, blue eyes wide. Tinyclaw froze. Why do they all have to have her eyes? He swallowed. The silence stretched on and Tinyclaw realized that he had to say something.
"We'll see," he managed.
That seemed to satisfy the kits – they didn't even notice his long pause. They chirped and purred excitedly, dancing about the moss ball and proclaiming who would catch what prey first, or who would impress their father more. Willowpelt looked back at Tinyclaw, her gaze understanding.
"Wait until you have kits of your own," she said. "You'll get used to the enthusiasm!"
Tinyclaw coughed, but said nothing. All the kits, talking about their first hunt… it made Tinyclaw feel suddenly queasy. His mind, unbidden, brought up the image of Cloudpaw trotting through the leaf-bare blizzard, a snow-crusted vole in her jaws. She had showed such promise, and…
He cut the thought away before Willowpelt noticed. Tinyclaw dipped his head to her and left the nursery, trying not to hurry.
The fresh-kill pile was picked over, but the prey that was left was plump and enticing. Tinyclaw forged past it, though – his meal could wait. There was one more thing he wanted to do to make today feel complete.
Yellowfang and Brackenfur were sharing tongues just outside the ferns of the medicine cat's den, sharing the shade and chatting quietly like the oldest of friends. Tinyclaw felt a flash of fondness for the both of them, glad that the two were getting along so well despite their vast personality difference.
"Hello, Tinyclaw," Yellowfang purred, looking up from Brackenfur's pelt. "What is it you need?"
Brackenfur was not looking at Tinyclaw – the golden-brown tom look relaxed, yet Tinyclaw had an impression that Brackenfur was expecting what Tinyclaw was about to say: "I just need to speak with Brackenfur for a moment."
"What is it?" Brackenfur wondered dryly.
Yellowfang's whiskers twitched. "Now, is that any way to speak to your deputy?" she chastised.
"It is when he seems determined to dog my every step," Brackenfur decided. The golden-brown tom yawned before turning to face Tinyclaw.
"Are you two up to something I ought to know about?" Yellowfang wondered.
"Now look who is questioning her deputy," Brackenfur chided.
Yellowfang huffed. She got to her paws, glowering down at Brackenfur. "Very well!" she chuffed. "I'll go get something more to eat then while you two talk." She turned away. "A mouse or two more sounds like it ought to fill me fine." The old medicine cat sauntered away, leaving Tinyclaw and Brackenfur alone.
"Don't worry," Brackenfur meowed, yawning again. "She's not upset, just playing at it for show."
Tinyclaw looked back at Brackenfur. The tom was idly cleaning between his toes, looking up at Tinyclaw now and then. "So what is it you want?" he asked.
"The ShadowClan cats are gone," Tinyclaw meowed.
"Of course they are," Brackenfur meowed. "I told them to go."
"But they didn't leave until a few days ago!" Tinyclaw hissed. "I told you -"
"I wasn't going to let them go without making sure they were fit to travel," Brackenfur meowed sharply, cutting Tinyclaw off. "I also made sure to teach them the herb mixture inside and out, so they could make it for their Clanmates."
Tinyclaw twitched his tail at Brackenfur's newfound stubbornness. He clearly learned that from Yellowfang, not him. "It's my responsibility to make sure that they were gone," he told Brackenfur. "I'm sorry."
Brackenfur flicked his tail. "Think nothing of it," he insisted. He looked at Tinyclaw quizzically. "How did you figure out they only left a few days ago?"
"I saw Graystripe," Tinyclaw explained.
Brackenfur's ears pricked. "Graystripe!" he repeated. "How is he?"
"Fine," Tinyclaw replied. "He swims like a fish now."
"Wow," Brackenfur mewed, amazed. "I never would have expected that, but StarClan wills as they will."
Tinyclaw chuckled. "I never thought of it either, considering he'd freeze up whenever we were near -" A loud growling from his stomach cut him off. Tinyclaw flicked an ear, embarrassed.
Brackenfur's whiskers twitched with amusement. "Go eat," he told Tinyclaw. "You've said what you wanted to say. Best you eat before Yellowfang takes what's left."
Tinyclaw leaned down and licked between Brackenfur's ears. "Thank you," he said.
"Anytime," Brackenfur meowed back.
Tinyclaw turned away and headed for the fresh-kill pile. Yellowfang had left him with a squirrel or a pigeon. Tinyclaw took the squirrel, then looked about the clearing for a place to eat. His pelt prickled as he sensed Sandstorm watching him. Her slender body was stretched out in the shade near the warrior's den, her tail wrapped around her hind legs.
Swallowing, Tinyclaw stared back. Blue eyes met green, and Tinyclaw felt his heart begin to pound in his ears. His stomach churned, too. Looking at Sandstorm seemed to make his entire body whirl in a storm, and yet… everything felt so calm and serene. He could never deny the way Sandstorm made the fur along his spine tingle – she had since they were apprentices. And the very thought that she might have feelings for him… nothing seemed to matter but that.
He padded over and sat beside her, fur pressing together. His heart stilled as she pressed close and began to purr. Tinyclaw didn't think a pigeon could taste so good.
The serenity was broken, shattered like ice, by a sudden caterwauling. Tinyclaw lurched to his paws, Sandstorm bristling beside him as Mousefur and Longtail burst into the clearing. Their fur was matted with blood, and Longtail was limping badly.
Tinyclaw swallowed hard what little pigeon he'd managed and demanded, "What happened? Where are Runningwind and Thornpaw?" The whole Clan seemed to gather behind him, bristling and hissing in fear of attack. Yellowfang and Brackenfur both rushed up to Mousefur and Longtail.
"I don't know," Mousefur panted. "We were attacked!"
"By whom?" Tinyclaw asked frantically.
Longtail shook his head. "W-We don't know!" he insisted.
"They were in the shadows," Mousefur breathed. "They hid their scent well, and…"
"The Thunderpath," Longtail finished. "We were by the Thunderpath."
"Go with Yellowfang," Tinyclaw told Longtail. The striped warrior was swaying on his paws. Mousefur was in a better sort. "Mousefur, you lead me to where this happened. Whitestorm!" The white warrior appeared from the crowd. "You'll come with me."
"What about us?" Dustpelt wondered.
"You and Sandstorm stay here," Tinyclaw insisted. "This might be a ploy to lead our warriors away from camp. It's happened before." Tigerstar was on his last life – Tinyclaw could take no risks in leaving the camp undefended.
He charged out of camp with Whitestorm and Mousefur streaming behind him. Mousefur panted behind him, but together they scrambled up the ravine and headed for the Thunderpath.
Tinyclaw regretfully slowed his pace when he saw Mousefur was struggling to keep up – "As quick as you can!" he urged. She had to be hurt after the battle, but there was little time. Runningwind and Thornpaw were in great danger, and Tinyclaw feared something terrible had happened to them.
What if the ShadowClan cats had tricked me? He wondered suddenly. His heart dropped. They were in our territory for so long… What if they were using their knowledge to plan an attack? Tinyclaw surged forward, heading for the break in the trees that signaled the Thunderpath.
"No, this way!" Mousefur called. She pushed past Tinyclaw and headed off to the side, veering towards Fourtrees. Tinyclaw and Whitestorm followed.
As they raced through the trees, Tinyclaw realized he had been this way before – this was the path that Littlecloud and Whitethroat took. This way led to the tunnel beneath the Thunderpath. Had a ShadowClan raiding party come through?
Mousefur skidded to a halt between two ash trees. The Thunderpath reeked ahead, and down the sloping path lay the weed-choked little valley and the Twoleg tunnel. In the weeds stood Whitethroat. The black-and-white tom was stock-still, looking down in terror at the two bodies before him. One was Thornpaw, the other Runningwind. Both were ominously still.
The ShadowClan cat's eyes widened as he finally noticed the cats on the hill. Whitethroat began backing away from the bodies, wailing, "They're dead! T-They're dead!"
Rage boiled up in Tinyclaw – was this how ShadowClan warriors repaid kindness? He lunged at Whitethroat, yowling in anger, with no regard for what Whitestorm or Mousefur were doing. His claws were out and he rushed at Whitethroat. In terror, Whitethroat screeched and bolted – not through the tunnel, but up the hill and towards the Thunderpath.
Tinyclaw chased Whitethroat through the brambles, thorns tearing at his fur, until they broke through into the sunlight. The Thunderpath loomed ahead, the grass oily beneath Tinyclaw's paws. Whitethroat stood at the verge, staring at Tinyclaw in terror.
"I-I didn't do it!" he insisted. "I-I didn't!"
Tinyclaw only growled. Rage pulsed through his head like a heartbeat. He took a step forward.
Whitethroat stumbled backward. "I-I swear by S-StarClan!" he cried.
"Beware an enemy that seems to sleep…"
Tinyclaw took another step. I should have driven them off as soon as I saw them! He told himself. I should have never let Brackenfur wrap me around his tail! I…
"Beware!"
Whitestorm stumbled onto the Thunderpath as Redtail's voice shocked the anger out of Tinyclaw, driving it away like… like…
The world rumbled. Too late, Tinyclaw sheathed his claws and lunged – but the monster roared past, and Tinyclaw's paws met the stones of the Thunderpath. Silence settled on the forest.
A ragged shape lay on the Thunderpath, a spray of blood patterning the stones beyond. The monster had hit Whitethroat.
Tinyclaw staggered onto the Thunderpath, looking down at the body. Bile rose, but Tinyclaw forced it back. Whitethroat just… lay there, eyes wide open in terror, paws splayed and… blood everywhere.
"Why…?" Tinyclaw whispered vainly. "Why did you attack us?"
The black-and-white warrior could give no reply. The world rumbled, and Tinyclaw held himself to the stones with his claws as monsters roared past on the far end of the Thunderpath. When they were gone, the world descended into silence again.
Tinyclaw turned himself away. There were… things to do. Things he had to do. Runningwind and Thornpaw… no… who could have…?
"No matter what you do, sometimes it is not enough."
A flash of red caught his eye, and Tinyclaw spotted a faded Redtail standing at the verge of the Thunderpath. The tortoiseshell tom was not looking at him – but in another direction, so severely that Tinyclaw's eyes had to follow.
There, in the brambles near the Thunderpath, stood the answer.
Bluefur.