Chapter 4

Leafpool is our mother, and Crowfeather—yes, Crowfeather of WindClan—is our father.

Even as Crowfeather argued with Nightcloud, as she accused him of being a terrible father for the thousandth time and he defended himself for the thousandth time, Hollyleaf's words echoed in his head. When she had appeared to him on the WindClan border with her brothers, and announced that he was their father, he hadn't wanted to believe it. It had been much easier to deny everything, to insist there was no possibility what they said was true. Even though of course he knew there was a possibility… but no. Surely, Leafpool would have told him if she was pregnant with his kits. Surely she wouldn't have been able to hide a pregnancy for two moons. Surely, somehow, he would have known these kits were his, especially after spending so much time with them on the journey to the mountains.

He had denied their accusations and returned to WindClan, hoping somehow their meeting had just been a nightmare and nothing more would come of it. But of course, dirty secrets never stayed buried forever.

Now, after Hollyleaf had announced her and her brothers' true parentage to all four Clans and Leafpool had done nothing to deny it, it was clear not only to Crowfeather but to all his Clanmates that what she said was true. Crowfeather was their father, and Leafpool had lied to everyone about it. Even him.

Across the clearing, Leafpool was being questioned on all sides, and she was shrinking in on herself as she tried desperately to defend herself to her Clanmates. Good, thought Crowfeather. She should feel attacked.

She should have told him she was pregnant with her kits. He would have helped her, would have made sure she didn't have to pay for the consequences of their forbidden love alone. But now, he had no sympathy for her. She had chosen to take this burden alone, and she could deal with her Clanmates' anger alone.

"Hey!" snapped Nightcloud. He tore his gaze away from Leafpool and fixed it back on his mate. "Are you even listening to me?"

"You say so much, it's easy to block out, Nightcloud," he sighed. StarClan, why did I ever take her as a mate?

"How dare you," Nightcloud hissed. "You're the one who-" she broke off suddenly, glancing around frantically. "Where's Breezepelt?" she demanded. He spun around, looking for his son who had been behind him just a moment before. He was gone. Quickly, he scanned the crowd of gathered cats, hoping he would see Breezepelt among the shocked faces. Nothing.

"He must have run off," Crowfeather meowed, doing his best to keep his voice calm and measured. Nightcloud was prone to panicking when Breezepelt was out of her sight in even the best of circumstances. Given that these were far from the best of circumstances, she suspected she was about to become unbearable. "I'm sure he's fine, Nightcloud. He's just gone back to camp to get away from the arguing." His voice was intentionally sharper on the last word. After all, she had been the one to start the argument.

"We have to find him," she meowed desperately. "I'll go back to camp and see if he's there. You try to track his scent and see if he's gone somewhere else." Crowfeather nodded. He was sure Breezepelt was fine, but it was easier to just go along with her fretting than to argue.

All around the clearing, the gathered cats were starting to dissipate, and Crowfeather followed the crowd across the log bridge. There, sure enough, he picked up Breezepelt's scent and he followed it across the moorland back towards camp.

However, when he was almost within eyesight of the camp, he found to his surprise that the scent turned sharply left. So he didn't go back to camp, thought Crowfeather.

As he turned to follow the scent trail, he suddenly felt a sensation he had never felt before. It was as if the entire ground was moving beneath his feet. Next to him, he saw rocks tumbling down the sloping grassy hills that made up WindClan's territory, and flocks of birds took flight, screeching. The earth itself was attacking him, he realized with horror. StarClan must be expressing their unhappiness over the news that had just been revealed. They were angry, and they were moving the whole earth to show it.

After a moment, however, the rumbling stopped just as quickly as it had started. Crowfeather stood frozen for a moment, waiting to see if the horrifying sensation would return, but when he didn't, he began to cautiously move, continuing to follow the scent of his son.

The scent took him all the way to the stream separating WindClan and ThunderClan territory. There, he suddenly lost the trail. Did he go into ThunderClan territory? wondered Crowfeather. Is he looking for his half-siblings? But he couldn't find his son's scent on the other side of the river either.

Slowly, he walked up the river until he was almost at the Moonpool. He couldn't find Breezepelt's scent on either side of it. The sun was already starting to come up when he decided he wasn't going to find anything else tonight. Tomorrow, someone could ask ThunderClan if they had seen or scented anything, but for now, he might as well go back to camp. Besides, maybe Breezepelt is already there, he reasoned.

But when he got back to camp, he was greeted by a frantic Nightcloud and no Breezepelt.

"Did you find him?" she demanded, her tone verging on panic.

"No," he meowed. "I traced his scent to the ThunderClan border but then I lost it."

"Oh!" Nightcloud cried. "Oh, what if they've hurt him? It would be just like ThunderClan, to hurt one of our kits as revenge. Oh, Crowfeather, you have to find him."

"I'll ask ThunderClan tomorrow," he reassured her. As she opened her mouth to protest, he added, "Look, I'm sure they're dealing with a lot of chaos right now. If I try to ask them now they'll probably claw my fur off. I'll go as soon as I wake up, promise."

Nightcloud didn't look reassured, but she agreed reluctantly and they both retired to the warrior's den. As they entered, a flurry of voices suddenly went silent. Talking about the Gathering I'm sure, he thought. But they don't have the guts to say their thoughts to my face.

Crowfeather and Nightcloud hadn't shared a nest since Breezepelt had been born, and tonight was no exception. Padding over to the opposite side of the den as his mate, he laid down, and soon he was fast asleep.

Crowfeather awoke close to sunhigh, and as promised, set off first thing for ThunderClan territory. It did occur to him on the way over that maybe another cat should have been sent on this mission, since ThunderClan was likely not too fond of him at the moment, but he reasoned that it would be better to face an entire patrol of angry ThunderClan cats than one angry Nightcloud.

As he approached the border, he suddenly remembered the terrifying shaking of the earth that had happened the night before. Had that really happened? Or had he somehow imagined it? The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. But then again, StarClan had covered the sun in the middle of the day once. Who was to say they couldn't shake the earth too?

He was interrupted from his musing by the arrival of a ThunderClan patrol at the border. At the front was Spiderleg, whom he recognized from several recent Gatherings. And behind him were Cloudtail and two other cats- a cream-colored tom, and a small reddish tabby tom who looked to be an apprentice.

As they spotted him, immediately all four cats raised their hackles. "What are you doing here, WindClan?" hissed the cream-colored tom. "Trying to mate with more ThunderClan cats?"

Crowfeather forced himself to remain calm. "I'm looking for my son, Breezepelt," he meowed. "His scent trail led me to the river, but I lost it after that. I was wondering if ThunderClan might have seen him."

The cream-colored tom scoffed. "Even if we had seen him, we wouldn't tell you!"

"Quiet, Berrynose," snapped Cloudtail. Crowfeather gave him a grateful nod. As irritating as Cloudtail could be, he had very little patience for other cats being irritating.

Then Crowfeather heard a voice emerge from the forest. "What's going on here?" To his dismay, a dark ginger she-cat emerged from the brush. It was Squirrelflight. Great, he thought. One of the two cats I least wanted to run into. She looked terrible, physically and mentally, like she hadn't slept all night. Probably up all night arguing with her mate about her lies. Crowfeather wouldn't blame Brambleclaw if he never wanted her to share her nest again.

"Crowfeather is nosing around ThunderClan territory," Spiderleg told her scornfully.

"Not for the first time," added Cloudtail under his breath.

Fury welled up his chest, at the ThunderClan patrol for being so difficult but mostly at Squirrelflight. In front of him was the cat who had lied to all the Clans for moons, had kept him from knowing about his own kits. The cat who had stolen his kits, and stolen his chance to have a relationship with them.

He forced the anger down. Right now, he had to play nice with Squirrelflight. He couldn't let his anger ruin his chances of finding out where his son was.

Crowfeather nodded his head to Squirrelflight. "I'm looking for Breezepelt," he meowed. "He disappeared from the Gathering, and didn't return to WindClan last night. I tracked his scent to the stream that divides our territories, but then it vanished. I was wondering if he might be in ThunderClan."

Squirrelflight scoffed. "What interest would ThunderClan have in keeping your son here, Crowfeather?"

He felt the fur on his neck bristle, and it took every bit of self-control he had to stop from launching himself at Squirrelflight and then tearing apart the whole ThunderClan patrol. "Well, I've recently learned you've had three of my kits in ThunderClan for moons," he meowed cooly. "So forgive me, but it's not as if this would be unprecedented for your Clan."

The fur on Squirrelflight's neck and shoulders fluffed up, and her expression turned to a glare. She turned to her Clanmates. "Go back to camp. I need to talk to Crowfeather alone."

Spiderleg hesitated. "This is my patrol Squirrelflight," he told her. The other cats waited, unsure who to obey.

"Get out," hissed Squirrelflight, with a glint in her eye that made Crowfeather wonder if he should run too. Looking a bit frightened, Spiderleg signaled with his tail for the patrol to follow him, and they disappeared into the trees.

Squirrelflight watched them leave, waiting until they were out of earshot before rounding on Crowfeather again. "Why are you really here, Crowfeather?" she spat. "Haven't you done enough to hurt ThunderClan?"

Crowfeather imagined how it would feel to leap at her and tear her throat out. Attacking a ThunderClan cat on her own territory surely wouldn't end well for him or his Clan, but great StarClan, he wanted to do it.

He forced his paws to stay planted in the dirt, but he dropped his friendly tone. "I'm just looking for my son, Squirrelflight," he meowed coldly. "And I've never hurt ThunderClan more than ThunderClan always manages to hurt itself."

Squirrelflight bristled. "You made my sister run off with you, and came back too late to save Cinderpelt. You got her pregnant, which could have ruined her whole life. Now the Clan might make her step down as medicine cat, because you convinced her to break the warrior code," Squirrelflight hissed.

"I didn't convince her to break the warrior code. She made her own decision," Crowfeather shot back.

"She was practically still an apprentice!" replied Squirrelflight.

"So was I!" Crowfeather yowled. How dare she act as if Leafpool had been some innocent quivering kit, incapable of making her own decisions? She had been young, but so had he. Every choice they had made they had made together. "Besides, I seem to remember you taking Brambleclaw as your mate around the same time," he added. And Brambleclaw actually did chase after an apprentice as a fully-grown warrior, he thought irritably.

"That was different. Taking Brambleclaw as my mate didn't require me to break the warrior code and abandon my Clan for a tom I barely knew," Squirrelflight meowed defensively.

"But you were old enough to know you loved him. So was Leafpool. Look, Leafpool may have been young and foolish but so was I. I loved your sister, Squirrelflight. I really did. And I think she loved me too. That love was a mistake, I see that now. But it was our mistake, one we made together." He paused, letting the memories wash over him. He had loved Leafpool in a way he had never felt about anyone. She was the most perfect cat he had ever met. She was brilliant, and kind, and determined. It felt like a cruel trick of StarClan that their love was forbidden by the warrior code. How could something that felt so right be so wrong? Running away from everything either of them had ever known felt like the only option, because a lifetime lived without her seemed too unbearable to consider. And apparently, she had felt the same, until Cinderpelt had died and it had become clear her Clan needed her too much for her to leave. She had returned to ThunderClan, to her all-important purpose, and he had returned to WindClan, where he wasn't even sure anyone had missed him when he left.

They had been foolish to think they could make it on their own, as if they would be able to make it apart from everyone they had known in their old lives. But Crowfeather still wondered every day what his life would be like if they had never encountered Midnight and learned about the badger attack. Would they still be living out there, together? Would they have raised a family together? He thought of Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw's kits, whom he now knew to be his and Leafpool's kits. Would the five of them have been a proper family?

Pulling himself back from his thoughts, he looked back over to Squirrelflight. "We made that mistake together. And… we should have dealt with the consequences of it together. I should have at least had the option."

"Well, instead, I was the one dealing with the consequences. I put my own life and time as a warrior on hold to raise your 'consequences'. I lied to my mate for them!" snapped Squirrelflight.

"But you didn't have to!" Crowfeather yowled, his frustration finally pouring over the edge. "Leafpool could have told me! I would have raised them in WindClan if she had asked. I would have left WindClan to raise them if she had asked. They were my kits!" How dare she suggest I wouldn't have cared for them if given the chance?

"Well, you seemed quite busy already with Nightcloud," retorted Squirrelflight. "Tell me, how long did you wait after parting ways with my sister before you took her as your mate? I know how old Breezepelt is. Did you wait a day? Two days?" He bristled at the mention of his son, but it forced him to take a moment to calm himself down. I'm only here because of Breezepelt, he reminded himself. I just need her to tell me if she's seen him.

"I regret taking Nightcloud as a mate," he admitted. "I needed to prove my loyalty to WindClan, but… I shouldn't have done it like that." He paused, thinking of the consequences of that decision. Two dead kits, arguments every day with his mate who he had never loved. But also one living, healthy kit. His son. "But I will never regret having Breezepelt," he told her. "Please, Squirrelflight. Have you seen him?"

"I already told you I haven't, Crowfeather," she meowed. She looked exhausted. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go back to my Clan and deal with the fallout from your 'mistake.'"

"You mean the fallout from your lies," he retorted. "You never had to be involved in this."

"I would never have had to lie if it wasn't for you," she snarled.

"Well, if your brat Hollyleaf could have kept her mouth shut instead of blurting out our secrets to all the Clans, then maybe neither of us would be dealing with this fallout now," he hissed. Immediately, he knew he had said something wrong. Squirrelflight arched her back, the fur in her neck standing up straight.

"You have no right to talk about Hollyleaf," spat Squirrelflight.

"Why not?" he replied coldly. "She's my daughter. And it's true. If she had never-"

"Crowfeather, Hollyleaf is dead," Squirrelflight blurted.

His world dropped out beneath him. Dead? He had just learned she was his daughter, and now she was… dead? All of his frustration over her behavior at the Gathering melted away in an instant, replaced by a deafening sensation of grief. Hollyleaf was his daughter. And now she was dead.

With a pang he remembered his other litter of kits, of whom Breezepelt had been the only survivor. Breezepelt had been the first to be born, and Crowfeather still remembered the surprising wave of love he had had for this beautiful perfect kit. He hadn't wanted these kits, hadn't wanted to be a father, hadn't wanted to be mated to Nightcloud. But when he saw Breezepelt for the first time, tiny and black and slimy, he had known he would do anything for him.

But the kits had been born nearly a half-moon early, and Breezepelt was the only healthy kit of the three of them. The other two, his two daughters, had both been dead by the time the sun came up the next morning.

And now, he had learned he had a third daughter, only for her to die too.

Was this a punishment from StarClan, for breaking the warrior code when he fell in love with Leafpool? Half of his kits had died, he realized with a wave of horror. A full litter's worth. It was as if StarClan was sending him a message: He was only ever meant to have one litter.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he returned his attention to the she-cat in front of him. Her breath was heavy and labored, and he realized suddenly this was why she looked so upset.

"Dead?" he echoed. "Squirrelflight, when did this happen?"

"After the Gathering last night," she whispered, the anger in her voice replaced by grief. "She was chasing a squirrel into the tunnels, and they collapsed on her when the earth shook. Her brothers saw it happen. We don't… we don't even have a body to bury."

Crowfeather closed his eyes. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Didn't know what to say.

"Let me sit vigil for her tonight with ThunderClan," he surprised himself by meowing. "Please, Squirrelflight. She was my daughter. Let me mourn her."

Squirrelflight shook her head. "Crowfeather, I understand this must be hard for you. But you really can't be in ThunderClan right now. Leafpool is in enough trouble as is. You'll just make things worse for her."

"But-" he started to argue.

"Sit your own vigil in WindClan. It's not as if we even have a body in ThunderClan. Mourn her as you wish. But stay out of ThunderClan," Squirrelflight meowed firmly.

He opened his mouth, though to say what he wasn't sure. To argue with her? To tell her he was sorry? Before he decided, however, Squirrelflight turned. In a few steps she was back in the brush from which she had emerged, and Crowfeather was left staring after her.

Breezepelt is still missing, he thought hopelessly. And Hollyleaf is dead. Oh, StarClan, why did you let this happen?