Chapter 14

Hawktalon thought back to that night at the old camp. He'd been so naive, so confused at what the Inner Guard was all about. Stainpelt took himself much too seriously to play pretend. He should have known this was the endgame. He should have known that being a warrior didn't make a cat virtuous. He should have known that belonging to something was more than pretty words.

He felt he was about to collapse beneath the weight of his guilt. Even now, he wasn't sure who was right. It wasn't like Stainpelt didn't have a point. Hawktalon didn't think that Carmen had been lying, not anymore. But she wasn't around to explain herself, either. And Darkwood's decision had been rash.

His Clan was destroying itself from the inside out, and he held a part in that. Some part of him supposed he should be glad that weakness was weeding itself out. After all, wasn't a Clan's purpose to be strong? To unite against weaklings and outsiders? To survive a wild life together? Shouldn't he be proud?

The Inner Guard. He'd been a member since the start. He'd been throwing himself into his duties with everything he had. He'd been standing aside and letting this traitor call the shots. He'd been doing it because he'd believed it was the right thing to do. That it was for the betterment of the Clan, even if everything didn't add up.

Hawktalon didn't know who was right. He didn't know if he should have taken Stainpelt out before, when he'd the chance to, when he'd yet to gain such a following. He didn't know if he should agree with him; say that Darkwood wasn't fit to lead anymore. Turn his back on the one who'd taken him in as a kit if it meant the Clan survived. His leader, his allies, his future mate… Hawktalon felt himself torn in all directions.

Before, life had been simple and straightforward. Now, the path ahead was split into a hundred veiled branches. Life was too complex now, too muddled in its layers of perspective to make sense of.

"Stainpelt…" Darkwood drew himself up and took a single step forward. "Get down from there. Whether I'm fit to lead or not isn't your call to make. I am the Clan's leader. I founded this Clan, built it from nothing! I worked with my friends to piece together everything we could learn about Clans to build us a better future! I brought us out here so that we can find a real home!"

"Yet, all we have found is turmoil."

"Nobody ever said the going would be easy," he growled. "But if the roots run deep enough, the tree won't bend, no matter how bad the storm gets."

"Yes, we've all heard your country cat metaphors and your tall tales of the monsters hiding in crops."

"He's right, Darkwood," said Rattail reluctantly. "We need stability. We need to quit this running around and hoping we'll find land."

"You were good to us, but it's time to let someone else make the call," said Rubyheart.

"And Hawktalon, don't think we've forgotten you," purred Stainpelt. "You've been a valuable member of the Inner Guard since its creation. You're a powerful, loyal warrior who wants what's best for the Clan. Your service will not be overlooked. Come. Join me here, where Flameclaw stands."

Taking the hint, Flameclaw finally moved, freeing up the little ledge beside Stainpelt. Leaving it open, waiting for him.

"Take your rightful place as the leader's right-hand cat."

A fresh wave of noise cut through the Clan beneath the rumbles of human make. All eyes turned to him. Hawktalon had never felt so pitiful in his life. He wanted nothing more than to sink through the cracks of the floor, just melt away. Darkwood was watching him, levelheaded as ever, waiting patiently for his choice.

Of course he wanted the power. Of course he did. To have some higher level of authority than the average warrior was all he could have hoped for as far as his place in the world. To not be an equal, but to have other warriors yielding to him, letting him decide what the Clan needed and how to get it… The idea was utterly enticing.

So many eyes upon him. It wasn't lost on Hawktalon just what was playing out here. Not anymore. He'd finally gained enough wisdom to know the subtext. Stainpelt knew how awful this was for him, and so he was offering a deal:

I make you more powerful than you've ever dreamed, and you swear yourself to me. You renounce your old leader and do as I say instead. You follow my orders, carry out my demands, you act as I deem fit. You become the second in command. Your authority will be greater than all but mine. Your word, so long as I approve, will be law.

Twilightstep was watching. Stainpelt was watching. Darkwood worst of all, was watching. Waiting. Letting him make his decision. Letting him know that Darkwood would accept his decision. That he would still respect him, even if they fought on opposites sides one day. The old tabby's resolve still burned, but he was finished arguing. After all, a leader couldn't lead those who wouldn't follow. A king couldn't rule if his subjects refused.

How deep does your honor run, warrior? How far are you willing to go?

Hawktalon stepped forward…

#

Carmen woke on a soft cat bed, again. She looked around in search of the Clan, again. She felt a dreadful weight in her heart when she couldn't find them, again. A few moons ago, this wouldn't have made any sense to her. Some humans had rescued her. She had a new home. It was over now, and she was free!

Except that she wasn't the same kit who'd escaped her human's den. The cool air tasted of plastic and chemicals, and the food was a sorry imitation of prey. Her pads were rough; all plush fabric and carpet did was stick uncomfortably and leave little fibers. Human touch was as foreign to her now as the sky was to a worm, and just as useless.

I shouldn't want this as much as I do. I shouldn't want to see them again so badly.

StarClan's energy pulsed through her veins, wild and hungry. It scorched her from the inside out with insatiable drive to escape these walls. She paced the rooms she had access to and turned things over in her head, trying to find the angle she could look from where this made sense to her.

She'd never be a Show Cat. Her dream was dead and buried. But she could at least have a life devoid of bloodshed and lies. She kept looking to the windows and checking every door that led outside. She was looking for a way to escape an easy life. Why was Carmen looking for a way to escape an easy life? She didn't exactly want to fight just to survive.

She missed Shadefur and Darkwood and Mosswhisker. She wanted to find Vinepaw. She wanted to get the Clan to its new home. She couldn't just leave Stainpelt and Steelclaw to do whatever it was they were plotting. And she needed to find out what Tigerstripe was up to, whose side the calico was really on.

But how much of that was Carmen talking, and how much of it was StarClan?