A/N: The story gets more fast-paced from here on. Tigerstar voodoo dolls to anyone who follows or reviews. And I'm from Louisiana, so my voodoo dolls work.

Chapter 23. The Gift of Prey

The thing about former RiverClan territory is, it's got way too much water for my liking. Their camp is literally on an island in the middle of a stream. Shallow enough for a cat to wade across, but still.

When Blackfoot gathered us at the base of Clanrock to assign duties this morning, he announced that Tigerstar was doublin' our contingent in the island camp from two to four, on account of the prisoners. I'm here with Nightwhisper, Russetfur, and Darkstripe. Russetfur and Darkstripe volunteered to take the first shift guarding the prisoners while my brother and I stay in the camp to "protect" the River warriors of TigerClan. I'd have liked to make myself useful by hunting and patrolling, but Tigerstar ordered us to stay in camp. The former RiverClan cats are about as happy with this as they would be if a couple of dogs were hangin' out with 'em. Most of 'em seem to share Mistyfoot's views on the subject, even if they don't say nothin' out loud. The sullen glares and mutters make me feel like the camp walls be closin' in on me.

When the sun is near 'bout set, Nightwhisper leaves off watchin' a couple of apprentices practice fighting moves and comes over to where I'm helping a warrior named Blackclaw patch up a den. "We gotta go take over from Darkstripe and Russetfur," he murmurs.

"Yeah," I say, thinkin' that maybe stayin' here with the hostile River warriors ain't so bad after all.

"Make sure you're taking decent care of the prisoners," Leopardstar calls as we leave camp. I'm too ashamed to meet her gaze.

"How's Lightningpaw's training going?" I ask, hopin' my tone comes across as light and cheerful. I barely seen my brother in the three days since he became her mentor.

Nightwhisper's chest puffs with pride, and my heart twists like a wrenched paw. "She's every bit as bright and enthusiastic as she was as a kit. Can't learn fast enough. She wanted to come with us today."

"I'm glad she didn't. This ain't no place for apprentices," I say sharply. Except the ones we're keepin' in a foxhole on account of shit that went down before they were born.

"Maybe it's a blessing in disguise that you don't have an apprentice right now. With how much time you and Boulder have been spending together these past few days, you wouldn't notice if an army of badgers attacked the camp," Nightwhisper teases.

I nudge him playfully and say, "I would so notice if an army of badgers attacked. Cats who fight together stay together," I purr.

It is true that Boulder and I have managed to get on most of the same patrols since agreeing to become mates. We take most of our meals together and share tongues in the evenings. I got some amused looks from my she-cat friends when we started sharin' a nest in the warriors' den. Sleepin' and wakin' up beside a cat I love fills me with a warmth the coldest leaf-bare wind can't touch. Even Tigerstar seems okay with our relationship, judgin' by the fact that he hasn't said nothin' or tried to separate us like he did during my punishment.

We pass the Bonehill, which has gotten even bigger since the last time I seen it. Must be Tigerstar ordered the River warriors to keep addin' to it. It's now almost twice as tall as most cats. As the little stream runnin' past the clearing peters out, we come across Russetfur and Mistyfoot. The sight of the blue-gray she-cat near 'bout knocks me off my paws. She's gotten a lot thinner in the few days since I watched Blackfoot and the others shove her down that hole. Her pelt hangs off her bony frame, matted with fleas, mud, and blood. One ear is torn, there's a fresh scratch on her nose, and she's limpin' pretty bad. Under Russetfur's piercing gaze, Mistyfoot grabs a clump of moss from the stream bank, soaks it, and turns back toward the hole.

"What's going on?" Nightwhisper asks, dismay fillin' his meow.

"This is the easiest way to get the prisoners water. This traitor won't dare try anything, not with Darkstripe guarding the others."

"What about food? It looks like you ain't been feedin' 'em," I say.

At the sound of my voice, Mistyfoot looks up. There's no trace of the defiant warrior who stood up to Tigerstar and insisted she was loyal to her clan. I see only pain, hunger, and exhaustion in her face now.

"Keep moving," Russetfur snarls, sinking her teeth into Mistyfoot's tail. To us, the ginger she-cat says, "We gave them a rat this morning, so you don't need to worry about feedin' 'em till tomorrow."

"Just one rat for four cats? Didn't y'all hear Leopardstar tell us to look after 'em? I'm pretty sure this ain't what she meant," I say.

Russetfur actually rolls her eyes. "Tigerstar said half-clan traitors only get crowfood."

We make it to the prison. Mistyfoot jumps down into the hole with her ball of wet moss. She lands badly and lets out a pitiful little yelp of pain. I want to jump down and help her with every hair on my pelt, but Stonefur and his apprentice come up the tunnel. The apprentice takes the soaked moss, while Stonefur supports his littermate. Within a few heartbeats, they've disappeared into the darkness.

"See you later," Darkstripe meows, dippin' his head politely to us. When Boulder and I got back to camp a few nights ago, I expected to get my ears clawed off. But the rest of the clan acted like my argument with our newest warrior never happened. It makes me a little uneasy, to tell the truth.

As soon as Russetfur's ginger tail vanishes into the reed beds, Nightwhisper turns to me, his green eyes brimming with horror. "I didn't think it would be like this," he hisses, as if afraid one of our clanmates will pop out of nowhere and accuse him of treason just for saying these words. "I didn't think the prisoners would be starved and…"

"And tortured? You can say it, Nightwhisper. And you know as well as I do they ain't done nothin' to deserve this. Suppose Tigerstar gets a thorn in his paw about rogues next."

"He won't, he needs us!" Nightwhisper cries.

"Who you tryin' to convince, me or yourself?" I snap. As my brother's head droops, I go on. "I don't know about you, but I still remember what starvin' feels like. I won't let any cat go hungry while there's enough prey around. You know what Mama would say if she saw this."

"She'd claw our fur off. But what can we do, Nettlethorn? Helpin' 'em means betraying our leader and our clan."

"Loyalty shouldn't be blind, Nightwhisper. If we just do whatever a cat like Tigerstar says, we might as well have stayed in BloodClan. I've ignored my conscience for awhile, but I can't do it no more."

Nightwhisper's tail lashes angrily. "So, what, you wanna help the half-clans escape?"

For a heartbeat, I imagine my brother and me leading the four starving, wounded cats across the river into ThunderClan territory, where they'd be safe. But what would become of us? ThunderClan ain't got no reason to trust a couple of ex-rogues from ShadowClan. After gettin' a look at Stonefur and the others, they're like to kill any of Tigerstar's warriors they come across. And we can't go back to the town, 'cause the threat from BloodClan is as dangerous as ever, probably more so after my fight with Bone on ShadowClan territory. Besides, Boulder's still in the ShadowClan camp. So are Lightningpaw and all the other cats I've come to care about over these past moons.

"I ain't that frog-brained. But we can at least get 'em some real food, maybe some herbs and cobwebs for their wounds," I say.

Nightwhisper paces around the hole, ears and tail-tip twitching. Finally, he says reluctantly, "I guess that can't hurt. I'll keep watch here while you hunt."

This is the compassionate, tender-hearted brother I know, the cat I sometimes thought had disappeared under Tigerstar's influence. I give his ears an affectionate lick and say, "I'll be back real soon, I promise."

I open my jaws wide to scent for prey. At first, all I smell is carrion and hurt cats. But I spot a frog sitting on a small, flat rock. Its tongue shoots out, snaring a fly. I creep closer till I'm in range, reminding myself how fast these little buggers can jump. Once I judge I'm in a good position, I slam my paw down on the frog, killing it.

The smell of vole makes my mouth water. I see its tiny head peeking out of a burrow. I wait, barely breathing, until a second vole emerges. I put all my weight into my back legs and spring forward in a powerful leap, bringing a paw down on each of the voles. I almost lose my grip on one of them but manage to deliver the killing bite.

Nightwhisper is still crouched by the hole when I get back, but he looks like he's about to jump out of his fur. "All clear," he meows. The plan, should any of our clanmates show up, is to say that we're hunting for ourselves.

I take one last look around, then slip into the old foxhole. The stench is mind-bending. I struggle not to gag around the prey I'm carryin'. The passage is so narrow that my flanks brush against its walls. The watery moonlight doesn't penetrate this far underground. I haven't gone more than a few tail-lengths before darkness swallows me. Fear makes my breaths come fast and shallow. It's way too easy to imagine all this earth fallin' in on me, burying me alive with the half-clan prisoners.

As the tunnel widens, I step on some cat's tail. I jump back as the cat whirls around. "I smell ShadowClan. Who are you, and what do you want down here?" Stonefur snarls.

I drop the frog and voles and nudge them toward the four dim outlines I can make out now that my eyes have adjusted. "It's me, Nettlethorn. I've brought y'all somethin' to eat. Fresh prey, not crowfood."

The battered ex-deputy sniffs the prey warily, like he reckons it might be poisoned. "Why are you doing this?" he asks coldly.

"'Cause it ain't right to starve you and keep you down here in the dark."

"You didn't think that when you betrayed me to Tigerstar," Mistyfoot hisses.

"I was tryin' to follow the warrior code and be loyal to my leader. And okay, I was scared. Tigerstar threatened to send me back to twolegplace if I defied him again. He knows I got enemies there, cats I came to the forest to get away from. I thought you might be exiled to ThunderClan or confined to your camp, not kept in a hole and starved. This prey is my way of tryin' to help and apologize."

Heat rushes through my pelt as the two warriors stay silent. I'm about to head back up the tunnel when Mistyfoot dips her head in the slightest nod. It ain't forgiveness, but it's somethin'. The two warriors carefully divide up the prey. When I see how they've saved the best pieces for the apprentices, my respect for them grows. Mama used to do the same thing when we were kits.

"Ewwwww, I don't want to eat yucky ShadowClan frog," meows the larger apprentice, Stormpaw.

Stonefur cuffs him gently around the ears. "It's more food than we've had in days, eat it. We can't afford to be picky." I remember Mama snappin' at us when we said we didn't want to eat carrion or twoleg trash, said that was the only food we had.

My eyes are drawn to the smaller apprentice, who hasn't gotten up. Her silver fur is as dirty and matted as the others, but the sweetly rotting stink of infection hangs about her. "Eat this, Featherpaw. It'll make you stronger," Mistyfoot says encouragingly, nudging a piece of vole toward her.

When Featherpaw raises her head, I see that her right eye is swollen shut. The wound above it looks red and angry. She takes a small bite of the vole, seems to chew for a long time before swallowing.

Seein' where I'm lookin', Mistyfoot growls, "Jaggedtooth, that piece of rancid fox dung, attacked her when she asked where we should make dirt." The answer, clearly, is right here in the hole where they're living. A small pile sits in the corner, adding to the reak.

My mind flashes back to the day I went out with Littlecloud to collect herbs. He said marigold helps infections. "Do any of you know where marigold grows on RiverClan territory?" I ask. "My brother and I are on guard the rest of the night, so I can get some for you."

"Your brother's in on this?" Stonefur demands.

I shift my paws uncomfortably. "Nightwhisper don't like it, but he won't betray me," I say, deciding to be completely honest.

Stonefur and Mistyfoot exchange a knowing look. I figure they know all about littermates keepin' one another's secrets. "Mudfur always talks about a patch of marigold growing by the river, near a broken tree. I hope it's not all dead, given that it's leaf-bare," Mistyfoot says.

"I'll go check," I say, turning around and padding back up the narrow tunnel.

I burst out of the foxhole and into fresh air. The relief is almost indescribable. I can finally take a deep breath.

"How are they?" Nightwhisper asks as I roll around in the dewy grass.

"'Bout as bad as you'd expect, being treated how they are. I think the prey will do 'em some good. But Featherpaw's got an infected wound, so I'm gonna go grab some marigold."

"Nettlethorn, I… I think I heard some cat prowlin' around the reeds, spyin' on us," Nightwhisper meows uneasily.

I get cold all over. "Are you sure?"

Nightwhisper shakes his head, but he looks more freaked out than ever. I prick my ears and listen for a few moments. When I don't hear nothin', I dart back down the slope. I find the river more by sound than sight. I guess the gurgle of slow-moving water is kinda soothing, in a strange way. Still don't mean I wanna live near it, though.

It takes me awhile to find the surviving marigold. It's past moonhigh by the time I pad along the stream that goes by the Bonehill, then up the slope. Spotting some cobwebs clinging to a tree branch, I wrap some around my paw. I remember how they're used to keep wounds from bleeding. The prisoners might need it if the other TigerClan warriors keep hurtin' 'em. Before I emerge from the reeds, I search for my brother's dark pelt, which blends in with the shadows. He's still sittin' by the foxhole, groomin' himself, lifting his head every few heartbeats to look around. His whole body relaxes when I reappear.

I'm more confident as I retrace my pawsteps into the pitch-black tunnel. The quiet voices up ahead fall silent as I approach. I drop the marigold at Mistyfoot's paws.

"Thank StarClan!" she cries, takin' some of the leaves in her jaws. She chews 'em up and uses a paw to carefully smear the mess on her apprentice's wound. Featherpaw lets out a small, shuddering sigh.

"Hide the rest of that so the other guards can't find it," Stonefur tells his sister. "We'll probably need it again." He dips his head to me and adds, "Thank you, Nettlethorn. Even if this is all you can do, it's a big help."

"More than any of our so-called clanmates have done," Stormpaw says bitterly.

"Tigerstar won't let any of 'em get near you. He's got forest warriors on guard here all the time," I say in RiverClan's defense.

Stormpaw snorts and rolls his eyes. I wait for his mentor to fuss at him, but Stonefur doesn't. Maybe he's losin' faith in his leader and his clan too.

"I gotta go, but I'll try to come back and-" My words are cut off as a screech of pain and pure terror pierces the air. Every hair on my pelt stands on end. I'd know that voice anywhere. Nightwhisper's in trouble!

A cliffy, muahahahahaha.