Chapter 21

When Brackenpaw was done tending to him, Tinyclaw left the medicine cats feeling confused and uncertain. His stomach clenched not with hunger, but mixed emotions about this possible revelation – if Tigerstar really was Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt's father, then why was he so aggressive about Tinyclaw helping RiverClan warriors? Yet it would explain why he spoke with Tawnypelt after the last Gathering, and how awkwardly he asked about RiverClan cats.

Sitting outside the warrior's den, Graystripe looked just as conflicted. His golden eyes were full of sorrow, and when Tinyclaw approached he got to his paws.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm so, so sorry!"

Tinyclaw swallowed.

"I-I know I should have been here," Graystripe went on, spluttering, "b-but I had to see Silverstream. I couldn't g-get near her at the last Gathering, and the kits are -"

"Graystripe," Tinyclaw breathed, "I understand." Graystripe shut his jaws as Tinyclaw went on: "Any one of us could have been away while this attack happened – Cinderpaw and I almost missed it ourselves. Just… stick around a few days, will you? Silverstream has that much time, right?"

Graystripe looked uncertain. Then, he meowed, "OK, Tinyclaw; I'll try."

Though Tinyclaw guessed that Graystripe and Silverstream had already scheduled another meeting, he knew that Graystripe's guilt would keep him grounded. As much as Tinyclaw wanted to share his feelings about Tigerstar, he knew it wasn't the time. Instead, he meowed, "I wanted to talk to you about Cinderpaw."

"Oh?" Graystripe wondered. Guiltily, he admitted, "I know I haven't been the best mentor to her, but…"

"She was the one who spotted the attack force in the forest, and not only that but she fought well too," Tinyclaw told him. With confidence, he meowed, "I think she ought to be a warrior."

Graystripe's eyes went round. "Did you tell Tigerstar?"

Tinyclaw shook his head. "I know you don't think you were that great of a mentor, but you're still her mentor just as much as I was. I thought we could do it together."

Graystripe nodded enthusiastically, and the two headed towards Tigerstar. The leader was still beneath the Highrock, but the worst of the wounds seemed to have been treated and the wounded cats lay on their sides, stiff from poultices. Brindleface had brought out her kits, and little Cloudkit was frisking amongst them, pestering them with questions. Ashkit and Fernkit followed dutifully.

Tinyclaw spotted Cinderpaw just as they reached Tigerstar. She was sitting with Brackenpaw, who was checking her over for what seemed like the third time. Cinderpaw didn't seem to mind, though, and didn't look badly wounded but for a nick in her ear.

"Yes?" Tigerstar wondered, pulling Tinyclaw away from his thoughts.

Tinyclaw told Tigerstar the story of how Cinderpaw had found the ShadowClan-WindClan attack force on her own, and her bravery following. "If it weren't for her we would have had no warning at all," he finished. "I think she should be a warrior."

Tigerstar's eyes flashed, and they slid over to Graystripe. "You agree?" he asked.

Graystripe nodded. "I couldn't be more proud of her," he breathed.

Tigerstar nodded and a crooked smile emerged on his muzzle. He got to his paws and decided, "Very well! I think it's about time, too."

He padded into the throng of cats and roared: "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

The surrounding cats lifted their heads – most were already here, beneath the shadow of the Highrock. But the elders shambled out of their den at the summons and the queens emerged from the nursery too. Even Bluefur's kits stumbled out, fumbling in the half-light. She and Oakheart gathered them up and held them still to watch.

When all were gathered Tigerstar called, "Cinderpaw, come here."

Cinderpaw's ears pricked in shock, and she got to her paws. For once she wasn't trembling with excitement – confusion seemed to have shaken her, and her steps were humble as she stood before Tigerstar.

"Cinderpaw," Tigerstar began, "it was you who warned the Clan today, and it's thanks to you that the damage wasn't much greater. You fought bravely in the battle… and I am not the only one who knows you deserve what is to come. You will be a warrior tonight."

Cinderpaw's eyes went wide and round, and in the crowd Frostfur gave a shocked gasp. Brackenpaw let out a preemptive whoop, followed by their siblings Thornpaw and Swiftpaw. The entire Clan clamored with approval – Cinderpaw was a popular cat, known for her energy and devotion. Tinyclaw knew this was a wise choice.

"I, Tigerstar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice," Tigerstar began, his voice a low rumble. "She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn. Cinderpaw!"

Cinderpaw met her leader's eyes, startled.

"Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?" Tigerstar asked.

"I do!" Cinderpaw replied emphatically, finally regaining her spirit.

Tigerstar's whiskers twitched, and he announced, "Then by the powers of StarClan I grant you your warrior name. Cinderpaw, from this moment forth you will be known as Cinderpelt! StarClan honors your determination and spirit and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan."

As he stepped forward to press his nose to her pelt, the Clan roared with approval, shouting Cinderpelt's name to the stars. Tinyclaw and Graystripe joined in, making sure to be as loud as possible for her – but no voices could trump the love and joy her family expressed, and when Tigerstar stepped away from the new warrior they swarmed her.

"Tonight you keep vigil alone!" Sandstorm chirped happily, waving her tail. "Good thing, too – I think it might be a cold night!"

The Clan purred in amusement as they congratulated Cinderpelt. Frostfur pressed her muzzle to her daughter's flank, dark eyes glowing with delight. Thornpaw and Swiftpaw were arguing over who would get their names next – and Brackenpaw hobbled over finally, when the crowd had cleared up, to rub muzzles with his sister.

"You should be with me," she lamented.

"No," Brackenpaw told her, shaking his head firmly. "This is what StarClan decreed, Cinderpelt. My own name will come in time."

"You stiff furball!" Cinderpelt scoffed.

Tinyclaw and Graystripe approached, thankful for the room to breathe. Together they congratulated Cinderpelt, who turned to them with eyes wide and full of admiration.

"Thank you, the both of you," she breathed. "Without either of you I'd never be here." She glanced at Brackenpaw as he hobbled after Yellowfang. "Him, too."

Tinyclaw's heart lurched, recalling with a pang how Brackenpaw had sacrificed his warriorhood to save his sister's life – but it seemed to have turned out for the better, with the both of them finding their callings. Tinyclaw lamented not being able to go through this ceremony with Brackenpaw, but Cinderpelt had been just as much his apprentice in the end.

Eyes following Brackenpaw's injury, Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel fury in him. Brackenpaw should have been here with Cinderpelt, celebrating their warrior names – but because of Bluefur, Brackenpaw would be in a medicine cat's den for the rest of his life. He wanted this, yes, but Bluefur had practically forced his decision. Not only that but Tinyclaw was sure Bluefur had told Darkstripe to try drowning him – which might have worked without Longtail's interference.

She keeps trying and failing, Tinyclaw thought. But when I have my chance to bring her down for good, what will happen if I fail too?

Who will defend ThunderClan then?

After the raid it was clear the Graystripe was keeping his promise – sticking around the camp, going hunting whenever he could, fetching herbs for Yellowfang, patrolling day and night… Yet whether Bluefur noticed or not, Tinyclaw couldn't tell – the deputy was busy herself, with her kits becoming old enough to do without her Bluefur became a well-known sight around camp again and while she couldn't hunt or patrol, it was clear she was getting ready to step back into her old position.

Yet on the fourth morning after the raid, Tinyclaw woke to find Graystripe gone.

His scent was extremely fresh, and Tinyclaw guessed that he'd just slipped out. Careful to not disturb Sandstorm, who was sleeping beside him, Tinyclaw slipped out of the den to follow. Graystripe wasn't being all that secretive, obviously – Darkstripe, who was selecting his breakfast, was narrowing his eyes at the gorse tunnel where Graystripe had disappeared.

"Just hunting!" Tinyclaw offered quickly. Darkstripe's eyes glared into Tinyclaw. "We'll be back before long."

Rushing, Tinyclaw pressed through the gorse tunnel and prayed to StarClan that his excuse was enough to placate Darkstripe. Urgency pushed him forward, following Graystripe along the familiar path towards he and Silverstream's meeting place. Tinyclaw's heart sank. So that's why you've been working your tail off – you were planning on meeting her anyway!

Graystripe was just ahead, padding through the woods confidently. He didn't seem to know or care that Tinyclaw was following so closely – he led the way through the undergrowth, his bulky body pushing aside fern and bracken alike.

Sunningrocks loomed before them. Tinyclaw stopped at the top of the slope, but Graystripe wove his way down with his tail high. Tinyclaw, panting, thought, Well… I'll keep an eye out for someone while he meets with her. She is carrying his kits, after all…

And then, while Tinyclaw could still see Graystripe, things changed. The wind changed, blowing against Tinyclaw's fur. Graystripe's entire spine bristled, and suddenly he was off like a chased rabbit. Before Tinyclaw could call out to him his nostrils were filled with an all-too-familiar scent: Blood.

Tinyclaw surged down into the hollow of Sunningrocks and rushed after Graystripe, his paws pattering against the damp ground. Water lapped at the earth not far away – the flooding had gone down in the past days and Sunningrocks was finally traversable again, but Tinyclaw kept his paws careful and quick so as to not slip.

He passed around a large boulder and there they were, nestled in a secret little hollow carved out by ages of water. Silverstream was on her side, panting, heaving, wrestling with the earth while Graystripe stood over her, yellow eyes round with panic.

"Graystripe!" Tinyclaw called.

Graystripe looked up. He didn't even seem shocked that Tinyclaw had been following him – he only shouted, "Tinyclaw! Get Yellowfang!"

It didn't take a medicine cat to figure out what was happening – Silverstream was kitting. Tinyclaw whipped around and scrambled back up the slope. His paws moved faster, kicking up dirt and earth as he sped back to camp. Scrambling down the ravine, panting for air, he nearly slammed into not Yellowfang, but Brackenpaw.

"Whoa!" Brackenpaw snapped. "Where's the fire?"

Tinyclaw was gasping. "Y-Y-Yellowfang! N-Need Y-Yellowfang!"

"Slow down," Brackenpaw mewed. "Take a breath."

Tinyclaw obeyed.

"Now tell me what's happened."

Tinyclaw burst, "There's a queen giving birth at Sunningrocks! A RiverClan cat, and I… I think something's wrong!"

Brackenpaw's eyes flew wide. "Y-Yellowfang's not here," he managed, "but give me a moment. I'll fetch what I need and be back in a heartbeat!"

The golden tom pushed into the gorse tunnel. Tinyclaw was left waiting for what seemed like an eternity – until the gorse tunnel swished and a cat stepped out. It was not Brackenpaw, but Cinderpelt.

"Brackenpaw sent me to find Yellowfang," Cinderpelt reported quickly. "She's near Snakerocks, and I'll bring her to Sunningrocks when I find her."

Tinyclaw only nodded, still reaching for lost breath. Cinderpelt rushed off, and Tinyclaw was left to wait once more.

Thankfully it wasn't long before Brackenpaw appeared. In his jaws was a hastily-made leaf-wrap, filled with smelly herbs. He placed it at Tinyclaw's paws and insisted, "Go – I'll catch up. Give her the ones on the top when you get there – those should ease some of her pain. I saw Yellowfang use them on Bluefur."

Tinyclaw nodded. He picked up the packet, Brackenpaw's instructions rushing through his mind as he scrambled up the ravine and dashed back to Sunningrocks.

He could smell the blood over the herbs long before he reached the slope down to Sunningrocks. As he skidded down the muddy hill the leaf-wrap bounced against his chin and throat and Tinyclaw did his best to keep the leaves from spilling out as he rounded the stones. He could hear Silverstream beginning to wail.

All the while his dream flashed into his mind – the faceless silver queen, crouched above her kits. Redtail's promise that somehow, things would be different. Was the dream about Silverstream, and the fate of her kits? Tinyclaw had no idea but he had no desire to see Silverstream die today.

Graystripe and Silverstream were still crouched in much the same way as before – but this time, something was different.

Bluefur was here.

"Tinyclaw!" she demanded. "What is the meaning of all this?"

Tinyclaw didn't care to answer, nor to wonder how Bluefur had gotten here. He crouched down before Silverstream, who was looking pained and desperate. He dropped the herb wrap and found the leaves Brackenpaw had told him about, quickly chewed them into a pulpy mess and, ignoring the horrible taste in his mouth he spat it onto his paw and forced it down Silverstream's throat.

Silverstream gagged on his paw, but she swallowed the mixture. Tinyclaw removed his paw, panting.

"Tinyclaw!" Bluefur demanded again. "Who is this? What's happening?"

"She's kitting," Tinyclaw sputtered.

"Silverstream…" whimpered Graystripe.

Bluefur's expression changed. She got up and left – but Brackenpaw quickly replaced her. He was panting, obviously having hobbled as fast as he could. He sniffed along Silverstream's pelt and sighed.

"How is she?" Tinyclaw asked. Her wailing had quieted a little. "I gave her the herbs."

"Good," Brackenpaw decided. "Even a little bit of them is better than nothing. I'm going to need some water, fast. Where did Bluefur go?"

Just as he asked, Bluefur reappeared. There was a thick stick in her jaws, bark stripped by the floodwater. She dropped it before Silverstream's muzzle. Almost instinctively, the silver she-cat grasped it in her jaws. Tinyclaw could see the wood splintering.

"It's too early," Bluefur meowed. "Isn't it?"

Brackenpaw nodded. "She looks like she could have waited a few days more," he replied worriedly, "but we'll make do."

Tinyclaw was stunned by Bluefur's expression and tone. Why wasn't she horrifying with anger? Why wasn't she demanding what was happening? She's a mother too, Tinyclaw realized. She's gone through this before. She wants to help, even when the queen is an enemy warrior. Questions can wait.

He turned away and went to fetch the water. Moss was easy to find, green and fuzzy and fresh on the rocks. He soaked some in the nearest puddle and brought it back, finding that Silverstream's stomach was rippling with the force of her kits.

"First one!" Brackenpaw called out in warning. He had regained his breath and was sitting beside Graystripe, who hadn't moved at all. Tinyclaw dropped the moss beside Silverstream's muzzle.

A shudder passed through Silverstream, and the stick splintered beneath her jaws. Bluefur, who had been waiting at the other end, dipped her head down by Silverstream's tail for just a moment before gently lifting a slimy, squirming kit up. Deftly Bluefur nipped open the membrane and licked the kit until it wailed.

"A she-cat," she reported.

"Good, good!" Brackenfur coached. "You're doing well, Silverstream!" His paw was on her side. "Two more!"

"Silverstream…" Graystripe whimpered, licking his mate's ears. "I'm here."

Silverstream was weak, but another shudder passed through her body and Bluefur's head dipped again. A second set of wailing filled the air and suddenly Tinyclaw found the dark-pelted kit between his paws. He was small and trembling, and immediately Tinyclaw bent down to lick him into warmth.

"One more!" Brackenpaw told her. "Just one more!"

Silverstream didn't move but for her side, which was rippling again and again. Graystripe let out a worried noise, licking her cheeks and muzzle in order to rouse her. Silverstream's eyes opened again in time for the third kit, which Bluefur promptly picked up.

"You did it!" Brackenpaw purred. "Two toms and a she-kit! Now…" he turned to Graystripe. "Help me – she needs to eat as much of the herbs that I brought as she can!"

Graystripe nodded weakly and it took the both of them to prize the stick from Silverstream's jaws. She was limp, her eyes half-open – but she accepted the herbs as Brackenpaw doled them out, wincing at the bitter taste. Graystripe waited with the moss, pressing water into her jaws whenever she looked like she couldn't manage swallowing.

"Brackenpaw," Bluefur meowed.

"Yes?" Brackenpaw wondered. He was trembling.

Bluefur's eyes were sympathetic. "This one is dead."

Tinyclaw's heart dropped as he saw Graystripe freeze in horror. The gray tom dropped the moss and leaped over Silverstream, picking up his tiny son in his jaws to try and rouse him himself. Tinyclaw picked up the moss in his place and took over for him, glancing at Graystripe all the while.

"No, no, no…" Graystripe hissed frantically. "Please, little one, wake up! Please, son…"

Bluefur's eyes narrowed. "Son?" she hissed, curling her lip. "What is the meaning of this? These… are your kits?!"

Graystripe flung his head around and snarled, "Yes! They are!"

Bluefur was speechless. Tinyclaw would have chuckled if he weren't busy wondering whether or not Bluefur was going to attack Graystripe.

"They're mine," Graystripe snarled, "and Silverstream is my mate. I love her – and these kits… I love them too. Say whatever you want, Bluefur – I don't care. One of my kits is dead. What you think doesn't matter to me."

Bluefur said nothing. She only bent down the lick the she-cat between her paws.

"Oh Silverstream," Brackenpaw sighed. "You poor thing…"

"Will she be all right?" Tinyclaw wondered. Silverstream lay between them, eyes glazed with pain. Her breaths were quick and shallow.

"I think so," Brackenpaw replied. "But I'd rather have Yellowfang look at her. Getting her back to camp is going to be hard with the few of us."

"Can she wait?"

Brackenpaw nodded. Tinyclaw left the moss and Silverstream to him as he padded over to Graystripe. His friend was hunched over his son's body, and Tinyclaw pressed against him. He had no idea of the emotions swirling in Graystripe right now, the sorrow and fear of looking down at his son and knowing that he would never know his father.

"I'll bury him here," Graystripe decided. "Right between RiverClan and ThunderClan. Do you… do you think Silverstream will like that?"

Tinyclaw only nodded. Silverstream wasn't in a position to care at the moment but he knew she would approve when she woke.

"Icekit," Graystripe decided.

"Hm?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"His name will be Icekit," Graystripe told him. "He… He needs a name in StarClan, I think, and… and crashing through the ice is what brought Silverstream and I together. I… I think it works."

Tinyclaw looked down at the pale gray tom. His pelt was wet but even so Tinyclaw thought it looked a little like ice reflecting the dull leaf-bare sky. He looked out at the river now, still bursting its banks on the low RiverClan side. There, on the water, he saw a shimmering shape – no, two - Redtail, who nodded at Tinyclaw before disappearing, and one more; smaller, with round yellow eyes that faded away with the other warrior.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Icekit."