Chapter Thirteen: Stumbling
Longtail and Sandstrike walked back to camp in a comfortable silence. Sandstrike felt a sense of relief that she'd been able to confide to someone, yet her heart still felt heavy with what was coming.
When the two had reached the camp, night had fallen. They were greeted by Dustpelt at the entrance.
"Were the borders clear?" Dustpelt asked, flicking his tail anxiously.
"There wasn't a whiff of Shadowclan past their scent markers, which were all in place," Sandstrike assured him. "I expect you'll have an easy job tonight, Dustpelt."
"Bluestar told the Clan of a warning from Starclan hinting towards aggression from Shadowclan," Dustpelt said, his pelt bristling uneasily.
"Starclan has always been terribly vague, our superiors may be interpreting their messages wrong," Sandstrike reasoned.
"Whatever," Dustpelt shrugged. "It isn't up to me, either way, and I'm not important enough to get an answer if I asked for Starclan's exact words."
"You're still plenty important to the Clan," Sandstrike comforted him. "You may not be able to share with Starclan, but you can train our next great warriors. How is Littlepaw, by the way?" The ginger she-cat regretted that she hadn't been able to spend some more time with her brother. Lynxpaw had confided in her alone, and she was often busy training Redpaw. She hoped Littlepaw didn't feel like she'd forgotten him.
"He's fast, and very skilled," Dustpelt smiled. "He learns quickly. He's a good fighter, and an even better hunter. You'd better watch out, Sandstrike, soon he'll be catching more rabbits than you!"
Sandstrike and Longtail exchanged an amused glance, and bade their goodnights to Dustpelt. Once they were out of earshot, they broke into quiet purrs of laughter.
"Hopefully Littlepaw doesn't catch up to our rabbit!" Longtail chuckled.
"Starclan, curse that piece of foul prey," Sandstrike growled. "That foul creature wasn't sent by them, for sure! I'd blame the Dark Forest."
"Way to lighten the mood," Longtail whispered sarcastically as they entered the warriors' den. Sandstrike let out a massive yawn and lay down in her nest at the edge of the den. To her surprise, Longtail didn't go to his warm nest in the center, but instead dragged it to where, until recently, Fireheart's had lain, next to Sandstrike's. It wasn't until Longtail lay down in Fireheart's old spot that she realized Fireheart had once blocked the chilly night time winds, which were only getting worse the longer Leaffall went on. Sandstrike blinked gratefully at the pale tabby tom and tucker her nose under her tail, drifting off into a blissful, dreamless sleep.
To Sandstrike's surprise, Tigerclaw didn't seek her out for at least a quarter moon, and told her nothing of any plans to dispose of the deputy. Sandstrike realized she'd have to ask him, and the chance presented itself after a training session with Redpaw and Cinderpaw. Tigerclaw had come with Darkstripe to perfect Cinderpaw's more difficult battle maneuvers. The warriors sent the apprentices to hunt, and stood in a thick silence for a moment, with Sandstrike and Tigerclaw glaring at each other.
"When are you going to take the role of deputy?" Sandstrike asked at last.
"When were you going to tell me about the prophecy?" Tigerclaw countered, making Sandstrike's heart begin to race.
"How did you find out?" Sandstrike stammered.
"My wonderfully helpful friend, Darkstripe," Tigerclaw grinned. Sandstrike fixed her spiteful glare on the dark gray tabby, who flinched and looked away, the smug look on his face vanishing.
"Why would you think I would tell you? Did Darkstripe hear the whole thing? Because I'm pretty sure the prophecy warned us of a tiger. And, uh, I don't know, maybe I felt that could be you, because you are murdering our clanmates!" Sandstrike spat at Tigerclaw's paws.
"Correction, you and Longtail have," Tigerclaw smirked.
"And whose fault is it? Because I'll tell you now, I'm sick of getting my paws dirty for you!" Sandstrike snarled. "I'm not benefitting from this at all. I won't kill Lionheart. I'm not going to stop you, but I'm no longer going to do everything for you."
"Oh, I intended to finish my work on my own anyways," Tigerclaw growled. "All of my allies are incompetent or disloyal."
"You dare say that to my face, when I've taken it this far!" Sandstrike snarled. "I'm loyal to your cause, but not everyone is a born killer like you!" Tigerclaw's amber eyes flashed with secrecy, and Sandstrike lashed her tail furiously, throwing up a cloud of sand. "If you care so little about the lives of your clanmates, then it's time you took one yourself! In fact, I'd like to come along and witness your experience."
"Young cats always act like such know-it-alls," Tigerclaw hissed softly, beginning to walk towards Sandstrike. "You think you know all my secrets. But you want to know something? I have taken a life before. I won't tell you who until I know how devoted you are, but I'd love for you to come along!" Tigerclaw lunged forward, one of his massive paws bearing towards Sandstrike's face before she could react. Stars flashed in Sandstrike's vision, and the edges of her sight began to turn black as the powerful tabby struck the she-cat harshly on the side of her head, his long claws tearing out a bit of fur from her cheek.
Sandstrike cried out in pain and her legs gave way. Stunned, Sandstrike lay in the sand of the training grounds, blinking rapidly to try and keep from blacking out.
"Never, you hear me? Never disrespect me again, before I add you to my list of cats in my way to power," Tigerclaw pressed Sandstrike's muzzle into the sand with firm paws on her shoulders, speaking into her ear while the tiny chunks of gravel filled her nose and mouth, cutting off her airways.
"Do you promise you'll always be loyal to me?" Tigerclaw demanded, rather loudly. Sandstrike opened her mouth to reply, but she only got more sand in it, and tried to gag. He heard Tigerclaw and Darkstripe sniggering at her struggles to speak and breathe. "Will you see our plan through to the end? Will you help me climb the ranks to the head of the Clan?" Sandstrike wanted to wail in despair. Tigerclaw was much larger than her; there was no hope of her freeing herself, but she could not answer to his demands.
"Do you promise to stand by my side as I dominate the forest? Do you promise to help me create Tigerclan?" Tigerclaw sunk his long, curved claws into Sandstrike's shoulder, dragged her across the hollow, and hurled her into a boulder along the edge of it. Sandstrike couldn't see the deceitful tabby, due to the mixture of sand and tears in her eyes, but she could feel his breath on her whiskers. She wretched and spat and gagged, desperately trying to clear her airways. She heard Tigerclaw grunt in disgust as she vomited at his paws. Sandstrike rubbed her face, her eyes streaming. Gasping for breath, she lay limp beside the boulder, her cheek, her shoulder, and her back aching from the harsh impacts. She cried out in pain again as Tigerclaw grasped her throat with his large paws, his sharp claws pricking her skin. He shook her violently, then forced her to look into his eyes.
"I hope you've learned your lesson, foolish cat," Tigerclaw whispered. "You will never beat me, you can never overthrow me. Don't you see? The only way you will live another moon is if you stay by my side. Tigerclan, the next great Clan, my empire, will not tolerate traitors like you. We will not tolerate the faint of heart." Tigerclaw sank his claws deeper into Sandstrike's neck before letting go, her head hitting the sand with a thump.
"Starclan…" Sandstrike tried to speak before cutting off in a coughing fit. "Starclan will never… let you win." She lifted her aching head to glare at Tigerclaw. "It is against… the code. The code… always… wins."
Tigerclaw gave Darkstripe a pointed look, who grinned wickedly and bounced forward, claws unsheathed. His claws tore a wound beginning at Sandstrike's neck up to her muzzle, clipping her lip and nose. Sandstrike gave a grunt of effort and sat up, shouldering the tabby away, who lost his footing in the sand. Sandstrike tried to move towards him, tried to press her advantage and pin him, but her limbs didn't want to work properly, and she staggered and fell. Darkstripe regained his paws and stood over the weakened warrior, his yellow eyes glittering with hatred, and desperation.
"Teach her a lesson, Darkstripe!" Tigerclaw egged him on. "Show me that you're worthy of a place by my side!"
Darkstripe struck, ripping a long wound from Sandstrike's shoulders to her hips, along her spine. Sandstrike shrieked with pain before Darkstripe muffled her cries by thrusting her muzzle into the sand once more. When she was silent, Darkstripe released her, standing back to admire his bloody work.
"Why not kill me now?" Sandstrike groaned after a moment of panting. "Why not finish off one of your weak links in your chain of command?"
"Because death won't be a punishment for you," Tigerclaw answered. "The fall of the Clans you know, the destruction of the order you crave, it'll hurt much more than the wounds we've dealt. I won't kill you, I'll break you. Even better, I'll break the Clan and let the loss of it shatter you. Once you've lost your fight, you'll become my more usable, perfect little assistant to a leader of all four Clans in the forest."
"If you really want to punish me by making me live through the agony of the death of the Clans, then you'll need to let me live," Sandstrike told him in a ragged, torn voice. "You think I'll last long with wounds like these?"
"Darkstripe," Tigerclaw turned to the gray tom. "Go and fetch Lynxpaw, if Yellowfang is there or she asks why, tell her that Sandstrike wants to talk to him. If he's alone, tell her that Sandstrike's life is on the line."
"If I lie to Yellowfang, I doubt Lynxpaw could bring the herbs he needs," Darkstripe pointed out.
"The herbs don't magically appear in the medicine cats' store, they come from the forest! If he needs to find herbs, I'm sure they're all around," Tigerclaw snapped. Darkstripe nodded and ran off. Sandstrike curled up in a ball, feeling blood and sand clumping her fur together. Her head throbbed, and she couldn't tell if a few heartbeats or a few days had passed by the time she heard two pairs of pawsteps.
"Sandstrike!" She heard Lynxpaw cry out in alarm when he saw his older sister. Sandstrike wearily lifted her head as he approached, herbs clutched in his jaws.
"Lynxpaw," Sandstrike croaked. "Get out of here. Go back to camp and get help."
"Why?" He asked in a low voice. "I know how to treat wounds, I can patch you up enough to get you back to Yellowfang."
"No," Sandstrike shook her head. "My wounds don't matter, your life does. Tigerclaw and Darkstripe know. They know about the prophecy, and they know the role you play. Please, for the love of Starclan, get out of here!" She saw Tigerclaw glaring at the pair of them, wondering what their quiet conversation was about.
"Lynxpaw," Sandstrike begged. "Who do you think did this to me? You're fast, you can outrun those bulkier cats. Leave me, I'll be fine, just go, please! If you care about me, you'll get somewhere safe!"
"I'm not safe while the Tiger stalks the forest," Lynxpaw murmured, his amber eyes round. "I need you to protect me, to protect our Clan, from that wretched creature."
"I won't have the will to fight if something happens to you," Sandstrike buried her bleeding muzzle in her paws, desperation clawing at her heart. Why did her brother have to get his mother's stubborn personality?
She felt Lynxpaw licking her wounds clean, then smelled herb juices as he chewed them into a poultice. Sandstrike sighed with relief as he applied the mixture to the wound on her back. He bound it with cobwebs and moved onto the one on her neck and face. Sandstrike had been leaning her head against the boulder, too tired to hold her head up. She felt leaves brush her muzzle, and, despite the poultice on her muzzle and nose, caught the fragrant scent of a strong-smelling herb.
"Eat it," Lynxpaw murmured. "It'll help with the shock."
"What is it?" Sandstrike mumbled, taking the herbs between her teeth.
"Thyme," Lynxpaw replied, sitting back to scan her for any more wounds. Sandstrike didn't like the concern in his eyes.
"What is it?" Sandstrike asked after she swallowed the bitter herbs. "Will the wounds heal?"
"They'll scar for sure, but it's not you I'm worried about," Lynxpaw confessed. "It's-"
"Me?" Tigerclaw guessed, pouncing on the young tom and pinning him in the sand. "I guess you're smarter than your sister here, she didn't give me any respect or fear, and look what happened to her! But lucky you, I can free you of your responsibility! All you have to do now is look down on us from Starclan and watch the Clans fall!"
"No!" Sandstrike screamed, leaping to her paws. Darkstripe rammed into her from the side and held her against the boulder while Tigerclaw attacked his own former-ish apprentice. Darkstripe forced Sandstrike to the ground and once more pressed her muzzle to the sand, but purposefully kept her eyes above the sand, forcing her to watch.
Lynxpaw still had his battle skills, but no one could hope to beat the fearsome dark tabby. Sandstrike stopped struggling and despair filled her as she watched. She knew she didn't have to see what was going to happen, she already knew. No one was there to save her brother except her, but she couldn't. She was weak, she couldn't fight off Darkstripe. She had failed her brother, when she'd promised to protect him from Tigerclaw. She had failed Starclan, who were losing their fire for the second time. Sandstrike watched the inevitable happen as Tigerclaw shoved Lynxpaw to the ground. He didn't give Lynxpaw the mercy of a swift death. Instead he lashed out again, and again, and again, until the pale ground of the Sandy Hollow was splattered with blood, and Lynxpaw lay, trembling, on the edge of death, at Tigerclaw's paws. Tigerclaw looked up from his victim, his prey, and glared triumphantly at Sandstrike.
"This is what happens when you defy me," He spat, at last ending Lynxpaw's agony with a blow to the throat. Sandstrike fixed her dull, defeated eyes on her brother's battered, bloody body, while Tigerclaw came to stand in front of her. He crouched down to meet her eyes. A bit of fire, a bit of hatred, lit her gaze when she locked eyes with him.
"You will keep silent," Tigerclaw ordered. "Or I'll kill Longtail." Sandstrike flinched, and Tigerclaw grinned. "It's obvious, isn't it? Mapleshade is smart, she told me before even you knew you had fallen for him. You will keep your maw shut, or I end him in the same way, followed by Redpaw, Littlepaw, Goldenflower… and when the bodies of your family lay all around you, I'll give you the same, slow, agonizing death. Just know that this is on you. Had you kept your mouth shut today, if you hadn't argued, protested, changed your alliance, your brother would still be alive. Granted, he wouldn't have lived long if he truly was the prophecy cat, but he would have seen another day. You stole that from him, Sandstrike. His death is on your paws."
Darkstripe and Tigerclaw left Sandstrike in the hollow, likely to go and spin lies to the rest of the Clan. Sandstrike dragged herself to her brother's body, which was nearly unrecognizable. She buried her muzzle in his drenched fur, and lay there, sobbing, in his puddle of blood.