Chapter 12

"No!" snarled Graystripe.

Tinyclaw watched, fear striking him through, as Graystripe launched himself into the water. There was nothing that could be done now, though – there was still one kit clinging to the mat with all it had, mewling pitifully. Tinyclaw pushed himself towards them, grasped it in his teeth by the scruff, and kicked away for dry land.

He didn't stop until pebbles shored beneath his paws, and he could collapse onto the grass. The kit fell from his mouth, mewling pitifully. Tinyclaw spent the next few heartbeats catching his breath before he forced himself to his paws to look for Graystripe.

To his relief, Graystripe was already splashing out into the shallows, the tortoiseshell kit in his mouth. He was drenched from head to tail, but his eyes sparkled with determination. He put his kit down beside Tinyclaw's.

"Are they alive?" rasped Graystripe, breathing hard.

Tinyclaw peered at the kits. His vision was swimming, but he could see that they were both breathing, just very faintly. They lay still, fur slicked to their sides, and they were trembling with cold and fear.

"Thank StarClan," Tinyclaw breathed. "They're OK."

"For the most part," Graystripe comment. "We don't know if they're wounded at all."

"Well it won't matter if they freeze," Tinyclaw told him. "Let's get licking."

The two settled down and began licking the kits, gently rasping their fur the wrong way to get them dry and keep them warm. They twitched and coughed up a few mouthfuls of water, and then they began to breathe a lot easier. Tinyclaw felt relief wash over him like warm water.

"They're so young," Graystripe commented. "They need their mother."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. These kits were younger than Bluefur's. He pressed his nose into the dark kit between his paws and breathed in deep. The river water had washed off most of their scent, but deep down the smell of home was there.

"RiverClan," Tinyclaw reported. He was unsurprised – ThunderClan's camp was nowhere near the river, so kits had no reason to be anywhere near it. Besides, ThunderClan had no kits that looked like this.

Graystripe heaved a sigh. "We need to take them home," he commented. "Some mother is missing them."

Tinyclaw agreed, but looking across the river made all the energy Tinyclaw had left leave him. How could they cross such tumultuous waters? It had nearly killed the both of them just to save the kits! He wanted nothing more than the crawl into the warrior's den and sleep for a season.

Graystripe clearly felt the same. The kit between his paws, he forced himself to his paws. He meowed, "Come on, Tinyclaw – we have to try."

Tinyclaw sighed. "I hate it when you're right," he complained.

He got up to his paws and sighed again. "We can try the stepping-stones," he suggested. "It's the best place I can think of."

Graystripe nodded, clearly having no better ideas. Together they picked up the kits and began heading downstream.

The stepping-stones weren't far down, and Tinyclaw sighed a third time when he saw them. Without the floodwater, the stepping-stones were an easy path across the river, with jumps no farther than a tail-length. With the water now higher, the stepping-stones were covered completely, just visible beneath the rushing stream.

Yet, just as hope was lost, Tinyclaw and Graystripe spotted a dead tree, caught on the stepping-stones, possibly uprooted by the flooding. It's bark was all but stripped, and its branches were caught firmly within the stones.

The two warriors glanced at each other, sharing the same Thank StarClan between them. Kits in their mouths, it was hard to communicate, but Tinyclaw went first.

He waded into the water until he could reach the tree. The kit wasn't enthused about being wet again, but didn't have the energy to protect. Quickly Tinyclaw hopped onto the tree, digging his claws in firmly as it twitched beneath him. The kit struggled, but quickly went limp.

Tinyclaw felt the tree shift as Graystripe got on, but it held their weight. Tinyclaw began to shuffle forward carefully, placing each paw deliberately. It was slow going, but the two warriors managed to get to the far end without losing the kits – or one another.

When they were both on the shore again, paws wet from the shallows, they set the kits down to catch their breath. Their pelts were ruffled from the branches on the tree, and Tinyclaw felt a few scratches in his skin. Graystripe looking fine, but waterlogged.

Graystripe gave his paw a lick, then spat, screwing up his face, "This water is nasty."

"At least the water will hide our scent," Tinyclaw remarked. "RiverClan shouldn't be able to tell who we are. We can just drop the kits off and -"

"And what?" sneered a voice.

The bushes rustled, and suddenly three cats sprang out, claws unsheathed. A big tabby crashed into Graystripe, forcing him back into the shallows with a splash. It was Brambleclaw, and with him were Blackclaw and Leopardfur. Tinyclaw braced himself as Leopardfur charged straight for him.

"Stop!" he shouted, but Leopardfur heard him too late – or not at all – and crashed into him.

With little energy to fight with, Tinyclaw threw himself at Leopardfur's mercy. He fell limp beneath her paws as she pinned him down and hissed, "What are you cretins doing in our territory?"

"Kits!"

Leopardfur looked up. "Blackclaw?" she wondered.

Blackclaw was standing over the two kits, his fur bristling. "My kits!" he growled. "These ThunderClan pieces of fox-dung stole my kits!"

"We did not!" spat Graystripe. Angry, the gray warrior thrust Brambleclaw off of him and into the shallows. Getting to his paws, Graystripe spat, "We saved them!"

Leopardfur narrowed her eyes, then turned her narrow face to look at Tinyclaw. With her paws on his chest, he managed, "We're not trespassing – we spotted them in the river and went to save them."

"It's true, Leopardfur," Brambleclaw meowed. He had gotten to his paws and was near the kits. "These are Tawnypelt's missing kits."

Tawnypelt's? Tinyclaw felt like he ought to have known, but he felt much better that he had saved her kits. She must be worried sick!

Leopardfur got off of Tinyclaw. "Don't get any ideas, ThunderClan," she snarled. "We'll see what Crookedstar has to say about you stealing these kits."

"We rescued them, we told you!" Graystripe growled.

"We'll see if Crookedstar believes you," Leopardfur snapped back, her neck fur bristling. "Now get up and come on."

Tinyclaw got to his paws and was joined by Graystripe. Brambleclaw picked up a kit while Blackclaw took the other, and the RiverClan cats surrounded them with Leopardfur in the lead. The RiverClan deputy led them into the reeds with a quick pace, giving no quarter for her captive's beleaguered state.

Within a few moments they had reached the camp – but it was empty, and Tinyclaw could see that the small streams that separated it from the rest of the dry land had grown to nearly swallow all of it. Leopardfur's hackles rose.

"The flood's gotten worse," she murmured.

"Leopardfur!" called a deep voice. "Up here!"

The patrol turned their heads, and Graystripe and Tinyclaw copied them. Up high, in the bushes were Tinyclaw had met with Tawnypelt, was Crookedstar. The tabby tom was large, just as large as Tigerstar, his jaw slacked and crooked but his eyes scrutinizing. He was soaked.

Leopardfur led the patrol and their charges up the hill and into the bushes. Between the fronds, Tinyclaw could see the rest of RiverClan settled, all of them wet and tired. Sympathy pierced Tinyclaw's heart as he realized their camp was no longer livable.

"The camp flooded," Crookedstar reported quietly. "We had to move."

His eyes flashed to Graystripe and Tinyclaw, just as RiverClan cats began appearing from the bushes. Their eyes were narrowed in suspicion. One of them was Silverstream, who kept her gaze carefully neutral as she moved to sit beside her father. She was soaked, too, and Graystripe twitched when he saw her.

"ThunderClan spies?" Crookedstar guessed. "As if we hadn't enough trouble!"

"They found Tawnypelt's kits," Leopardfur explained. "At least, they claim to have." At the mention of the kits, Silverstream's ears pricked. She moved over to Brambleclaw and gave the tortoiseshell a little sniff. Then, she turned and loped into the bushes.

"They stole them!" Blackclaw insisted, his kit at his paws. "I know it! You can't trust ThunderClan!"

Crookedstar stepped forward and gave the kits a sniff himself. Both were waterlogged, but were beginning to recover from their ordeal. They were sitting up, eyes tightly shut. They made small squeaking noises as Crookedstar looked them over.

"Tawnypelt's kits went missing when the camp flooded," Crookedstar rumbled. His pale gaze crossed over Graystripe and Tinyclaw. "What happened?"

Tinyclaw shifted on his paws, tired of his going-around. He grumbled, his temper short, "We flew across the river and grabbed them with our talons."

Crookedstar curled his lip and was about to grumble something back when a yowling interrupted them. Crookedstar stood up and moved as Tawnypelt burst out of the bushes, her entire being bristling with relief.

"My kits!" she purred.

Tawnypelt made a beeline for the kits, pushing every cat out of the way as she went. When she reached them she curled around them immediately, wrapping her thick tail around her wet babies. The kits mewled gratefully as Tawnypelt licked each of them. Her eyes were shining with love and worry as she tried comforting them both at once.

Brambleclaw and Blackclaw each twitched an ear before settling beside her, brother and mate, to comfort the one they both cared for.

Tawnypelt's commotion had drawn out Goldenflower, who was accompanied by Silverstream. Silverstream went again to sit beside her father, avoiding Graystripe and Tinyclaw altogether as she settled beside Crookedstar. Goldenflower was wobbly, but she sat down too.

The elder wasn't the only one drawn out – the rest of the Clan gathered around. Mudfur, the RiverClan medicine cat, was edging closer to the kits but was clearly willing to give Tawnypelt her space. All of them were soaked through and looked thin and hungry, with ribs poking through on most of them. Tinyclaw felt a stab of sympathy for all of them.

That sympathy was washed over by caution – despite their appearance, all of them were clearly hostile towards Graystripe and Tinyclaw, looking at them with suspicion and malice. They would have to work hard to convince Crookedstar the kits weren't stolen.

He seemed willing to listen, at least: "Tell me what happened," Crookedstar offered.

Tinyclaw began at the beginning, when he had spotted the kits in the river. He had gotten to where he had pushed the kits on the mat when Blackclaw interrupted:

"Why are we listening to this?" the black tom hissed. "Since when have ThunderClan cats risked their lives for us?"

"Let him speak," Crookedstar rumbled. "We'll find out soon enough if he's lying."

"He's not," Tawnypelt insisted. Her amber eyes were hard as she meowed, "Why would ThunderClan steal kits when all the Clans are finding it hard to feed themselves?"

"His story makes sense," Silverstream added coolly. To Tinyclaw, she explained, "We had to abandon the camp and shelter up here when the flooding began. Not everyone was evacuated, and when we went back the kits were gone, along with the bottom of the nursery. The stream connects to the river and the flow's all messed up, so the mat must have been washed down to where you found them."

Crookedstar was nodding, to Tinyclaw's relief. He seemed to be believing them, and as his hostility faded so did the hostility of the others – except for Blackclaw, who glared at Tinyclaw and Graystripe with suspicion.

There's one in every Clan, I suppose, Tinyclaw thought.

"If that's the case, then we're grateful," Crookedstar offered grudgingly. He looked at the ThunderClan cats and dipped his head.

"Yes," Tawnypelt agreed. Her eyes were filled with gratitude. "Without you I wouldn't have ever seen my kits again."

Tinyclaw dipped his head. He looked at the other RiverClan cats, how thin and gaunt they were. Almost without control, he blurted, "You're all finding it so hard to feed yourselves – is there anything we can do to help?"

Crookedstar narrowed his eyes. "We need no help. RiverClan can feed ours -"

"Oh, stuff it Crookedstar," rasped Goldenflower.

The entire Clan looked at the pretty elder as she stepped forward. Her yellow eyes were hard as she meowed, "You've always been too proud for your own good. Feeding ourselves during this thaw was going to be hard enough – it always is, every time – but the river is practically poisoned. You know it is!"

"Poisoned?" repeated Graystripe. "How?"

"Those wretched Twolegs!" Goldenflower growled. She lashed her striped tail. "Before they came, the river was clean and full of fish, but throughout greenleaf they poisoned the water with their rubbish!"

"She's right," Mudfur agreed, nodding grimly. "The fish are poisoned – cats that eat them get sick. I've treated more bellyaches this leaf-bare than I've ever had to before."

Tinyclaw shared a look with Graystripe, then he looked out at the RiverClan cats. They wouldn't meet his eyes, heads bowed in shame at their weakness. Tinyclaw could see how hungry and tired they were, and he could image how hard land prey must be to get in an area like this, especially with the flood.

"Let us help," Tinyclaw urged. He knew it would be hard for them to accept it, but they needed outside help. "We'll catch prey for you in our territory and bring it to you until the floods are gone and the river is clean."

The moment he made the offer, his brain suddenly realize just how foolish it was – it was taking the warrior code and snapping it in half, the mouse atop the fresh-kill pile that was all the trouble Tinyclaw and Graystripe had gotten into. Tigerstar would be furious if he found out, and it could mean the end of Tinyclaw's life in ThunderClan.

And yet, even as he thought that, he realized that the rigid ways that some cats followed the code drove them to do bad things – like Bluefur, who would twist the code's words to suit her needs. He had vowed to be nothing like her, and if it meant breaking the warrior code so a Clan could survive, then so be it.

There need to be four Clans, Tinyclaw thought. It's the balance in the forest, the four trees at Fourtrees, the four seasons. If one leaves, what will happen to the rest of us? When WindClan had been driven out the Clans had vied for their territory – with RiverClan gone, what would happen then?

"Would you really do this?" Crookedstar wondered, eyes narrowing. "For us, an enemy Clan?"

"Yes," Tinyclaw said firmly, plating the promise like a paw.

"I'll help too," Graystripe promised, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Tinyclaw. Tinyclaw glanced at his friend and felt warmth in Graystripe's yellow eyes. You won't do this alone, his eyes said. Friends until the end.

Silverstream couldn't hide the glow of hope in her eyes. Beside her, Crookedstar meowed, "Then the Clan thanks you. None of my cats will challenge you in our territory until the waters recede, but after that we will fend for and defend ourselves again."

He turned away, leading his cats through the bushes. His subdued Clan cast glances back at Tinyclaw and Graystripe, and both could see that not all of RiverClan believed their promise. Last was Tawnypelt, who brushed her muzzle against both cats.

"Thank you for this," she meowed quietly. "Without you I would never have seen my kits, and without you my Clan would be worse for wear. I will never forget this."

She turned away, not waiting for a reply. When her dappled tail disappeared into the bushes, Tinyclaw and Graystripe turned away and silently climbed down the slope. Quietly, they headed for the river again.

When they were at its shores, Graystripe breathed, "What have we done?"

Tinyclaw could feel his heart fluttering with worry, and when he looked at Graystripe he saw his friend trembling.

This could destroy us if the wrong cats find out, Tinyclaw thought. He imagined what Darkstripe might do with the news. If any cat finds out. And yet…

He nudged Graystripe.

"The right thing," he answered.