Recap:
Emberpaw becomes Morningstar's apprentice and is then told to spy for her. Oakpaw of course is as unknowledgeable as ever and becomes envious. Emberpaw discovers Iceface talking with a strange city cat but decides not to tell Morningstar.
She is not a fighter, a brawler. She rarely deigns to use her claws, but she knows what she is, and she knows she is competent; good, even. Recommendable, reliable, possessing a talent rarely harnessed in PureClan. Emberpaw is a spy.
She knows this, and her leader knows this, but she remains ambiguous in every aspect of Clan life. It's her annonymity that allows her to blend in so well. Morningstar, however, is rarely pleased by her trivial findings. The golden leader is not interested in giggling apprentices, the crass language Meadowmist uses when she botches a hunt, Sparkfool's favourite spots to gather marigold.
"Boring," she drawls, in that way of hers that is both condescending and terrifying; she is a cat who recquires constant entertainment, and her boredom can so quickly turn to lethality. "Get me something good."
It is this comment, in one of their mock mentor-apprentice sessions, that has now brought her to the forest, hunting scandal and treachery. Emberpaw isn't sure what she'll find. She's stumbled upon something akin to treachery before, when she saw Iceface with his stranger. She keeps queit about it, for reasons she's not sure she understands. It would be easy to dob him in, but then what? She gets some credibility as a spy? They get a new deputy? In her head, it's not quite as simple as it could be. Emperpaw doesn't like the tom, but she continues to watch him, though for now his activities remain nondescript, verging on bland. So she ignores him today.
If Morningstar wants excitement, Emberpaw doubts Iceface will be any kind of candidate.
She sees her brother, tussling in the arena. He's already grown bigger than Burrpaw, today's unlucky opponent. Their mentors watch impassively on the sidelines. Emperpaw knows Oakpaw is more than displeased with his appointed mentor, Sleetclaw. He's a weedy looking tom, thin, meek. He's jealous of her, she knows, but maybe if he spent all day perched in trees, he'd think differently. They no longer sleep in the same nest. They haven't talked for a moon. This pattern is set to continue.
She moves on from the training arena, where her brother no doubt spends most of his time. Why hunt when you can fight, right? She's a better hunter than she is a fighter. It's a given when she spends most of her time stalking, silent and watching. Morningstar hardly bothers to train her; she promises that the best of it is still to come, when she's truly proven herself. Emberpaw feels she might be waiting a while.
She comes across Nettlecloud next, her absent adoptive mother, who will never come within an inch of being better than the real thing. The fawn she-cat looks haggard, hounded, glancing over her shoulder with paranoid frequency. Emberpaw can guess what haunts her; the tom she never asked for, the one she never wanted. Peppermask is not an easy tom to deal with, when he's around. He's ambitious, and a little abusive (so she's heard). And she's seen things, below the trees; arguments, spats. Nothing she'd gossip about- she's no longer a fickle kit. She's learned to keep her mouth shut, although this new skill is too late to help her mother.
She decides to follow Nettlecloud. She has no desire to see her uncle's leer today (not that this particular urge presses her often).
Scandal, she thinks furiously to herself, leaping from one branch to another with the easy grace of practice. Drama. Theatrics. 'Good'. Something to rival that illicit meeting. She fears nothing she can dig up will be enough. Maybe she ought to tell Morningstar. That can at least save her skin, because she's certain if her usefulness isn't soon proved, she will be permanently demoted. Permanent, in a way that will see her reunited with her departed mother. Morningstar just exudes that air of wastefulness.
The next few cats who cross below her do not interest her. One is her brother's friend, that absurdly fluffy tom. The fourth, however, catches her interest. For an elder, he's fairly fit and robust. It's rare to see them out of the camp. It's hard to drag them for the dusty shadows in their den. And though it is unlikely that Waterstripe will lead her to the scandal she so wants to find, she follows him. He may be a tidbit to tide Morningstar over until she discovers the real event. Emberpaw is so desperate for anything she's beginning to wonder if elders are even allowed out of camp.
He keeps up a good pace, but it's nothing Emberpaw can't match. He's probably soft with his old age, his lack of use. She delights in her speed as she darts through the canopy. Emberpaw remembers the first time she tried climbing, when she was timid and hesitant and very, very careful. She has grown, and nothing is as big as it used to be, although she will never reach the hulking size of Oakpaw. That's something she can be content with.
Waterstripe begins to head to the river. That much is made clear by its soft distinct rushing noise, filtering through the trees even metres away. Emberpaw doesn't frequent the river much. To her, nothing exciting ever seems to happen on his banks. She knows very little of its history, the betrayal it has borne witness to, the corpses it has carried. As far as Emberpaw is concerned, Waterstripe just got thirsty. She's about to abandon the chase, thinking it fruitless, when Waterstripe emerges from the trees and scans the water. A few feet away, Iceface sits as though waiting.
Emberpaw finds a good spot between the two of them, where she hopes she's hidden. It's not like anyone bothers to look up, anyway. She knows it will just be her lucky day when someone does.
"It's clear," Waterstripe says, forgoing any greeting. "She remains in camp talking to Strongclaw."
Iceface looks marginally relieved. "Did you come across anyone on your way here?"
"No," the elder answers, but oh, how little he knows. Emberpaw doesn't smile; she' s beyond used to the absence of her acknowledgement."
"Good. That's what I was thinking, when I planned the patrols. They ought to arrive soon, so keep watch for a while." Both toms turn to watch the opposite bank, and Emberpaw is intrigued. Perhaps that foreign she-cat will make a reappearance. The silence between them is uneasy, and she thinks she has found an incident that tops her first attempt at spying for the leader. Unsure where to look, she keeps her gaze pinned on the deputy, trying to read him. Gone is that constant scowl, and in its place is an anxiety she's never seen him wear before.
She's still watching him when they appear on the other side. When his eyes widen and he stands, she glances up to see she has missed the entrance of three and a half unfamilar faces, who are now staring at them from across the river. Kenna only counts as half, considering Emberpaw has already, indirectly, met her. One is a ginger tom, one a grey tabby, and the other has a pelt as black as Kenna's. They're mostly a scrawny bunch, wiry and scared, and Emberpaw catches a faint tang of their bitter scent.
"Ice," Kenna calls across the river. "Are you ready?" It's so strange to Emberpaw, to hear the first part of his name uncoupled of the last. It's a warning she doesn't heed.
Iceface calls back, "Yes," before turning to Waterstripe, who has gone practically unnoticed in this short exchange. He dips his head, a respectful gesture reserved for senior warriors and accomplished cats. Waterstripe replies in kind, before the deputy steps towards the river. He shivers, and Emberpaw sees what he is about to do.
He plunges into the river suddenly, abandoning his regality. He surfaces with his fur plastered against his skin, pelt now a dark and stormy grey running with dirty river water. He swims against the current; she notes he has picked a good time to flee PureClan, with the river small and diminished by the lack of rain. He reaches the other side easily and pulls himself out, bearing a striking resemblance to a drowned rat. With distaste, Iceface shakes the water from his slick fur.
Kenna and the others are ready to greet him. With her tail, she points at first to the grey she-cat, and then the black tom. "This is Britta, and this is Nada. Of course, you've already meet Feliks before. We have an encampment half a day away, with a dozen or so cats. When we return we will be ready to depart back to the city, and you will oversee the training of our new recruitments."
Iceface just nods, as if he's been expecting all of this. Waterstripe looks a little forlorn as they begin to disappear back into the trees. Iceface is the last to leave, and the water dripping from his pelt is a farewell. Slowly, now acting properly elderly, Waterstripe stands and makes his way back into the forest. Emberpaw, of course, is already gone. She has scandal. She has drama. She has treachery. What else could Morningstar want?
…
She flies across camp, passing by too quickly to catch the disgruntled glares of snobby warriors. She doesn't pause to call out before entering the leader's den, but skids to a stop when she sees Strongclaw sitting hunched before his mother.
"-and you shall clean up before the formal announcement. It's long overdue, and if you won't groom yourself, I will have several warriors repeatedly dump you into the river until you shine like the day you were unfortunately born. Am I understood?" Her gaze flits over Emberpaw, breathless and relieved, before returning to the cream-and-tabby tom in front of her.
"Thoroughly," Strongclaw replies acerbically. "Can I go now?"
Resigned, Morningstar sighs. "Of course, off you go, to steal more poppy seeds from the medicine den, my drunkard of a son."
He turns around, nearly bumping into Emberpaw on his way out. Their eyes meet; his are a tired, cloudy blue, though they brighten just a little bit when they see her. She looks away first.
"Good morning, Emberpaw. I trust you have a good reason for interrupting my son's daily lecture?"
"Oh yes," she replies, bouncing on her paws, her mock father's sad eyes forgotten, for now. "Very good."
Morningstar says nothing else, but looks gratifyingly impatient.
"It's Iceface. He left with a bunch of city cats, just now. Waterstripe helped him get away."
Morningstar looks pleased; a smirk forms on her muzzle, and she seems far from surprised. "Knew it," she says. "Knew I had a dirty mole in the Clan. Did they say anything?"
"They have an encampment half a day away, and as soon as they get back they're returning to the city. Iceface is supposed to help train 'recruits.'"
Morningstar gnashes her teeth in a way that looks decidedly gleeful. "Where did that little rat escape from? The gorge? The meadow?"
"The river," Emberpaw answers, fairly confident she's finally proven herself.
"And what of Waterstripe? Did he go too?"
Emberpaw manages to get out, "No, he's still-" before Morningstar is gone from her den. Emberpaw springs to her paws and follows- her leader is just a golden streak as she disappears into the forest. The apprentice sits down and waits, watching the confusion of the cats in camp. Morningstar doesn't summon that kind of speed often, but when she does...
She returns minutes later, trotting serenly behind Waterstripe, who is trying to mask his abject mortification. Does he know he's been betrayed?
"May all those old enough to unsheathe their claws gather beneath the Speaking Hill for a very special meeting," she cries. Waterstripe tries to blend into the crowd as the Clan assembles. It takes a further few minutes for those outside of camp to return, and there is an air of bemusement amongst PureClan. There was no scheduled meeting today.
Morningstar begins by planting a wide-eyed look of betrayal and sadness on her face. "Today," she announces, "I was shocked to discover my very own deputy has become a pawn of the hideous thing we endeavour to choke from this world. He has left us to fornicate with the Tainted. Have no fear, my Clan. We will hunt him and the siren-call of the poison down. First, we must address a more immediate problem. Form a ring, please."
Murmurs sweep through the crowd as they obey. What could be more immediate than the betrayal of their deputy? Morningstar strides into the centre of the circle, resplendent in the afternoon light. Under the attention of the Clan, and the promise of what is to come, the golden queen is radiant. Waterstripe, however, wilts as Emberpaw watches him. "I need a volunteer, please," Morningstar croons. "You there."
She nods at Waterstripe, who now looks as weak and as feeble as an elder should. He gets to his to paws, to Morningstar's delight.
"Did you see anything this morning, as that traitor of a deputy fled us? Anything noteworthy?"
Waterstripe shakes his head. He must see it coming, surely.
The Clan strains to hear the leader's next word, small and harsh as it drops from her lips. "Liar." Morningstar moves in a breathtaking blur, knocking the tom from his paws. He struggles, but his efforts are nothing to the lioness leader. He will be the first cat Emberpaw knows, the first cat that is no stranger, no city creature or rogue, that she will see die. For many of the Clan, it will be the most intimate execuetion they've ever witnessed. It is not often the many-headed snake turns on itself, and few occasions are so public.
"Waterstripe is not being truthful with us. It was he who aided the escape of the coward, and now, he has attempted to lie to us."
Emberpaw is silent, and so is most of PureClan. Execuetions are loud, noisy affairs, raucous and rowdy; not this one, not when it has become so personal.
Morningstar sneers down at the tom she has trapped between her claws. "This is just protocol, deary," she assures him, and then she guts him, throat to tail. Gold and red are a splendid mix.
so sorry about this. i was on holiday for two weeks and then when i came back my internet got cut off. i had this chapter written up for ages but couldn't post it or anything. still don't have internet or anything so this has been posted from school. i've been wanting to post it for ages. sorry for the long time in between updates it is not my fault this time
