Chapter 8

Days passed, and the moon turned full, hanging heavy and bright in the starry sky.

Mistyfoot stared up at the blanket of night above her head. There wasn't a single cloud that she could see, which should have been a good thing: Gatherings were nights of peace between the four Clans, but the last few had been part of a nightmare that seemed to have no end since Mudstar had used this sacred night to cast ThunderClan as murderers and traitors. Clouds had not saved them then.

Her fur fluffed. Would this, the first Gathering of newleaf, go a similar way? How would Mudstar react to seeing ThunderClan walk onto the island, alive and well, and with a new deputy despite all their efforts? Mistyfoot swallowed around a lump in her throat. How would the other Clans react to seeing her as deputy? Would they be offended because she hadn't fully trained an apprentice?

Something blurred before her eyes. "Mistyfoot? You okay?"

Mistyfoot blinked. That blurry shape was Ferncloud's tail - the queen had been the last to hop off the tree-bridge and onto the island, following her after her mate and kit. Ferncloud's green eyes blinked gently back, searching Mistyfoot's gaze.

"I-I'm fine," Mistyfoot said quickly. "Just thinking."

Ferncloud's whiskers twitched. "You'll do just fine," she purred as if she knew what was on Mistyfoot's mind. "They can't be more upset about you than they were about Crowflight."

Mistyfoot had been trying not to think of him. The WindClan warrior was a complicated subject now that he was deputy. He seemed firmly in Mudstar's corner despite all they had gone through as chosen cats, and the last time they had seen one another had been on opposite sides of the ThunderClan camp, the blood of Mistyfoot's Clanmates sprayed on the ground between them.

She took a bracing breath. She would have to stand with him tonight below the Great Oak, along with the other deputies. How was she supposed to handle that? Would he try to start something?

Ferncloud made a noise, and Mistyfoot started. She'd drifted into her thoughts again and shook her head to try to banish the buzzing between her ears.

"It's okay," Ferncloud said again. "Come on! Everyone's waiting."

Mistyfoot exhaled a heavy sigh. She followed Ferncloud deeper into the island, pushing through a wall of fresh undergrowth and stepping out into the clearing.

It was a wide open space of long, gently swaying grass encircled by undergrowth and tall trees whose leafy tops formed a protective ring around the full moon above. The Great Oak stood in the middle, its huge, budding branches bending down as if to scoop up those below in their protective embrace.

ThunderClan had been the last to arrive, which meant the clearing was already filled with RiverClan, ShadowClan, and WindClan cats. They mingled in little groups across the clearing, sharing tongues and polite conversations, the truce hanging over each of their heads.

Ferncloud headed for the gaggle of gossiping queens clustered in their own little world. At the same time, Snowstep took Larchpaw to meet the only other apprentices in all four Clans - Willowpaw and Rushpaw, two littermates from ShadowClan, just about tackled Larchpaw, their friendly mews of greeting carrying in the night air.

Mistyfoot searched the crowd. The Great Journey had fostered many friendships between the Clans; this was the one night those relationships could rekindle. The sentiment was soured, however, by the way WindClan cats pointedly avoided ThunderClan, and to Mistyfoot's dismay, it was the same the other way around. Two Clans who had once been the closest friends were now as far apart as the old forest and the lake.

She spotted a few familiar faces, but one made her heart lift - off to the side, Nightfrost was talking with Stoneheart and his mate, Rowanclaw. Mistyfoot lifted her tail in greeting, hoping to be seen, but it seemed her littermate was too busy talking. She longed to go and join them, but she knew there wouldn't be time, and now that she was deputy, she was expected somewhere else.

Might as well get it over with. Squaring her shoulders, Mistyfoot wove her way through the crowd. She did her best to keep herself unassuming, not wanting to draw any attention as she headed for the base of the Great Oak. Mistyfoot passed the medicine cats clustered in conversation - all of them but Ryewhisper - by a small tangle of roots.

"No Brackenfur tonight?" Littlecloud fretted. "Is he okay?"

Shadepool responded, "He's still resting his leg. Hopefully, he'll feel up to it by the next moon."

"If there's anything you need..." Mothwing murmured.

Shadepool shook her head. "Thank you, Mothwing - but old wounds take a long time to heal, and Brackenfur needs rest more than anything..."

The base of the Great Oak curled up into knotted, gnarled boulders, and it was here where the deputies of the Clans sat. Tawnypelt and Blackfoot were already there, perched, observing their Clanmates. When Mistyfoot arrived, they both glanced her way, but only Tawnypelt's gaze lingered as she watched the younger she-cat clamber her way up.

"So, the rumors are true," Tawnypelt decided. She flicked her tail, her gaze considering. "You're ThunderClan's new deputy? Congratulations."

The lump in Mistyfoot's throat grew in size. She busied herself with finding the right spot to sit before responding politely, "Thank you."

The tortoiseshell she-cat tucked her paws neatly beneath her. She had a smile on her face. "Leopardstar owes me a minnow," she purred. "I told her Tinystar would pick you."

Mistyfoot's pelt went warm.

"She thought Tinystar would choose Dustpelt," Tawnypelt scoffed. "As if that would ever happen! Could you imagine?"

Mistyfoot flattened her ears. She had imagined it.

Tawnypelt waved her dappled tail and meowed, "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to tease. It's nice to see another she-cat up here, and I'm glad it's you." She twitched her whiskers. "Tinystar needs a cat like you by his side. You'll certainly be better conversation than Blackfoot, that's for sure..."

Beside her, Blackfoot only grunted, his steely yellow eyes focused on watching the clearing like a hawk. Tawnypelt rolled her eyes and gave Mistyfoot a look that said, "See what I have to sit next to each moon?"

Mistyfoot's pelt went warm again, and she struggled for something to say other than, "Thank you."

She might've said more, but a dark shape was winding its way through the crowd: Crowflight.

The lean WindClan warrior, his shoulders lit silver, leaped onto one of the roots at the far end of the Great Oak, as far from Mistyfoot as he could get. He glanced her way and froze, just for a moment, his dark blue eyes clouding over with some complicated emotion that Mistyfoot could not identify. He quickly looked away, busying himself with grooming his chest fur.

Mistyfoot turned away from him, staring out at the crowd. Her ears rang, and her chest clenched with hurt. Tawnypelt made a sympathetic noise in her throat. The RiverClan deputy hadn't gone on the chosen cat's journey, but she had helped them find new camps for the Clans, and she had seen just how close they had all been. No doubt she was noting how things had changed.

Not for Nightfrost, Mistyfoot thought, spying the small black tom still sitting with Stoneheart. Crowflight had tossed Nightfrost to the ground and declared war on ThunderClan, and Nightfrost still considered Crowflight a friend. Mistyfoot didn't understand how he could do that. Did he know something that she didn't, or was Nightfrost just being naïve?

The boughs above shifted, and the cats in the crowd quieted their conversations. Their gazes turned upward, a thousand tiny moons reflecting in the dark, as Leopardstar padded out on her branch and announced with a yowl, "Let the Gathering begin!"

As the eldest leader, she spoke first: "RiverClan has had a prosperous moon. The fish in our rivers have awakened, and prey is plentiful. As the half-moon turned, we welcomed new warriors - Goldenclaw, Rosewillow, and Reedwhisker!"

"Goldenclaw! Rosewillow! Reedwhisker!"

Mistyfoot's ears pricked, and she mouthed, "Congratulations!" to Tawnypelt, who blinked back gratefully. Her three kits stood proud in the crowd, their chins held up high. Beside them was a golden tabby tom, almost a copy of Goldenclaw, whose eyes beamed with pride - Mistyfoot guessed he must be Root, the loner who had fathered the kits. To her knowledge, he hadn't formally joined RiverClan, but he was here to welcome his kits as warriors nonetheless - Mistyfoot was surprised Leopardstar had allowed it.

"Mothwing has also chosen her apprentice, Willowpaw, who will be training to be RiverClan's next medicine cat," Leopardstar said. Mistyfoot saw the dappled she-cat's eyes gleaming from where she sat on the roots. Leopardstar was clearly pleased with her happy announcements.

"Willowpaw! Willowpaw!"

Mistyfoot glanced over at the medicine cats. Little Willowpaw was there, her blotchy, pale fur almost white in the moonlight. She was young but looked every bit like a medicine cat already and had probably been to the Moonpool for the first time. Mistyfoot wished her luck.

As the cheering died down, Leopardstar stepped back, and Tinystar stood. Mistyfoot swallowed and lifted her chin. It was time.

Tinystar's weight barely moved his branch as he shifted his position. He meowed clearly into the night, "ThunderClan has been enjoying the bounties of newleaf as well, and Spiderpaw has finally earned her warrior name, Spiderfang!"

"Spiderfang! Spiderfang!"

Mistyfoot couldn't help but purr, hearing Spiderfang squeal somewhere in the crowd at the sound of her name. From the amount of cats who were cheering, she was a surprisingly popular cat - though the silence from WindClan was deafening.

Tinystar's pale eyes flashed, and the crowd quieted. He raised his chin and announced, "I've also chosen a new deputy for ThunderClan - Mistyfoot has already proven her mettle by leading us to this new land, and she has shown herself clever and capable. Sandstorm may not be dead, but I think she would approve."

Mistyfoot's heart leaped into her throat as she waited for the crowd's reaction. She expected jeers of derision but instead found that cats from every Clan cheered her name - the only silence came again from WindClan, who glowered up at her as if she were some sort of stain on the Great Oak. Swallowing, Mistyfoot forced herself to ignore that and enjoy her moment - she could only imagine how her mother might react if she trembled now.

"We've also taken in some cats from the Horseplace," Tinystar meowed as the cheering died down. "A queen and her three kits." His gaze was even, sweeping over the crowd as they murmured in speculation. "Some less charitable warriors chased them into our territory, so we gave them a home."

Mudstar did not miss the jab. His thin shoulders bristled, and he hissed, "WindClan has far higher standards than ThunderClan, it seems. Those cats will never be warriors!"

Says you! Mistyfoot wanted to hiss. You didn't even give them a chance! She felt Crowflight's gaze on her, and soothed her ruffled fur.

Tinystar curled his lip. "We shall see," he said evenly. "But that brings up another point: One of the Horseplace kits was caught in something called a fox trap and lost his tail. I strongly advise caution in the forest, especially around areas where mice or voles like to nest - that's where we've seen these traps the most. They are very dangerous, and my warriors will happily teach any of you how to disarm them."

Mudstar scoffed again. "As if we cannot figure that out ourselves?"

"You're welcome to," Tinystar retorted, "but don't come crying to us if you can't manage it." He licked his paw and drew it over his ear. "The borders must be respected, after all."

"Rich, coming from you," Mudstar hissed.

Mistyfoot saw his hackles rise, and she braced herself. Mudstar might have a bad leg now, but she knew he could fight like a badger - he had taken one of Tinystar's lives in the battle and wouldn't hesitate to do it again, not even on this night of truce.

"Enough," Russetstar snapped, her tone grating. The dark ginger she-cat stood up, her green eyes gleaming from the shadows. "Unless ThunderClan has more to say, it's my turn."

Mistyfoot had asked if Tinystar would bring up Sootfur's death, but Tinystar had stated that most of the cats on the island tonight would already know, and mentioning the battle might rile WindClan. So Tinystar receded, his icy eyes even and calm. Mudstar withdrew as well, his tail rattling.

"I regret to inform you all that Orre has died," Russetstar meowed, her voice no-nonsense.

Mistyfoot stared up at her, shocked. She didn't know Orre well, but he had been an old and well-respected warrior, especially for a cat who hadn't been Clanborn.

"What happened to him?" asked Heavystep of RiverClan.

A WindClan cat sniggered, "Maybe it was a ThunderClan cat..."

"Yeah, they like killing cats for no reason," added their neighbor.

"Shut up," Stoneheart hissed, baring his teeth. Mistyfoot's tail trembled at the gravity of his tone, and his voice made the WindClan cats shut their jaws tight.

Russetstar stared down at them all. "ShadowClan's business is ShadowClan's alone," she meowed sternly. "His spirit rests with StarClan now."

She went on, "ShadowClan is aware of the traps, and we have our own way of disarming them." She shot a sharp look at Mudstar. "Your turn."

A chill ran down Mistyfoot's spine. She couldn't imagine how Russetstar could seem so cold about all this, but ShadowClan cats were ShadowClan cats - she knew from her brother that they handled things their own way, no matter what the other Clans thought.

Mudstar slunk forward and announced: "WindClan has new warriors in Thistlestrike and Weaselthorn, and..."

Mistyfoot tuned him out. The last thing she wanted to hear was his voice boasting about WindClan's triumphs. She let her gaze rest on Stoneheart again, worry crawling up her pelt. He looked so serious! In fact, every ShadowClan cat did. Did Orre's death have something to do with the oddities on the border or that strange scent in the tunnel?

I have to ask, she decided. If anyone will tell me, Stoneheart will.

Mudstar finished whatever he was saying, and the gathered cats began to turn their attention back to one another. The night was stretching on, and there would be little time for extra conversation before every Clan departed. Mistyfoot kneaded her paws into the root. She was just about to make her move toward Stoneheart when there was a yowl for attention:

"We'd like to make one last announcement!" Littlecloud's voice pierced the crowd, drawing their attention toward the medicine cats. Littlecloud held his chin high, and when it seemed he had all eyes, he meowed, "I'd like to remind all the Clans that attacking a medicine cat with the intent to kill is not justifiable under any circumstance, especially if they are attempting to protect the injured."

Mistyfoot grimaced, glancing at Shadepool. She sat with Mothwing and Willowpaw, her orange eyes unreadable. Emberstep, a WindClan warrior, had tried to kill her the night before WindClan attacked and died in the Divide for it, and during the battle, Shadepool had been nearly killed again trying to save her Clanmates.

Mudstar clearly knew what this was about. He curled his lip and snarled, "If a medicine cat wants to fight like a warrior, they'll be treated as one."

"Then pray you hold up to StarClan's scrutiny," Shadepool meowed, her tone sharp. "And you remember that it's against the warrior code to kill others in the first place."

Mudstar spat wordlessly, glaring. Crowflight muttered something up to his leader, but if Mudstar acknowledged it, Mistyfoot didn't see. The scrawny cat slithered down the Great Oak and stalked away, ending the Gathering with a lash of his tail.

Mistyfoot resisted the urge to hiss as he went by. She looked over the WindClan leader's thin frame, spotting Crowflight, who looked somewhat annoyed. Mudstar quickly disappeared into a crowd of WindClan cats, Crowflight following behind at a brisk trot.

Tawnypelt sighed. "Well, at least there wasn't an outright fight," she mewed. She nodded to Mistyfoot before padding away, meeting her mate and kits in the crowd. Blackfoot left with a curl to his lip, stalking into the throng and disappearing, not bothering to say goodbye. Mistyfoot swallowed, suddenly alone.

She searched the crowd again and found Stoneheart. He was still with Nightfrost and Rowanclaw, though it was clear that most of the cats were gathering up to leave. Mistyfoot slid carefully down from her knotted perch and headed for them, very aware of what little time she had.

Too late, she realized she had been too focused on her destination - she felt her shoulder ram into another cat almost immediately. Quickly, not wanting to start a fight over something so trivial, she turned to them and mewed, "I'm sorry!"

"That's okay," purred the offended - it was Falcontail of RiverClan, whose pale yellow eyes glittered with amusement rather than anger. He dipped his dappled head respectfully. "Congratulations on being named deputy, by the way."

Mistyfoot managed a neutral "Thank you," somewhat taken aback by Falcontail's congeniality.

Falcontail blinked at her, his pale yellow eyes glowing in the moonlight. If her tone put him off, he didn't say it, and Mistyfoot wasn't certain she wanted him to - he had led a group of warriors who supported Mudstar back in leafbare when WindClan's leadership was still up for debate. Though he had denounced his actions then, that snowy, starlit night still lingered in Mistyfoot's mind.

"I'll be going," Falcontail decided briskly. "But, again, congratulations."

He slipped away like a shadow, disappearing into a crowd of RiverClan and WindClan cats. Mistyfoot wrinkled her nose - his scent was stronger than most RiverClan cats, tickling her nose and making her want to sneeze. She forced it down and put her paws back on the right track.

Most cats were too engrossed in their own conversations and gossip to notice her, but a few warriors tossed her a "Congratulations!" that Mistyfoot had to thank them for. Her pelt prickled with a mixture of warmth and embarrassment - did cats from other Clans really care that much about her and her new position?

"There she is," Rowanclaw meowed warmly as she approached, "the deputy of ThunderClan!"

"Isn't it great?" Nightfrost purred.

It was Stoneheart's reaction that Mistyfoot craved most - she lifted her chin and met her brother's eye, her heart fluttering when she saw pride in those pale depths. She purred deep in her chest.

"Father would be so proud of you," Stoneheart mewed, smiling at her. "Mosspaw, too."

Mistyfoot bumped her head into his shoulder. "Stop that," she chuckled, "you'll make everyone think you've gone soft!" She pulled away and sat on her haunches. "I'm sorry about Orre," she said somberly.

Both Stoneheart and Rowanclaw's expressions changed, going from happiness at the sight of her to that clandestine ShadowClan mask they all seemed to wear in a heartbeat. It was Rowanclaw who meowed, "He will be missed."

"How'd Tallpoppy take it?" Nightfrost wondered. "They were mates, weren't they? Is she okay?"

"Tallpoppy is fine," Stoneheart assured swiftly. He lifted his chin. "We're all fine."

Mouse-dung, Mistyfoot thought, staring incredulously at her brother. I know it, and you know it, too. You weren't born a ShadowClan cat, you know!

Mistyfoot glanced over her shoulder. It didn't seem like any cat was listening in - everyone else was busy with their little pockets of conversation. Their time was ending soon, though, so she had to press for information while she could.

"Is everyone okay in ShadowClan?" Mistyfoot asked, looking directly at Stoneheart. "We've noticed some strangeness on your border. Is it the traps?" She didn't mention the stranger's scent and the tunnel - Tinystar wanted that kept secret for now.

Stoneheart stared back at her, his pale eyes unblinking. Mistyfoot knew her brother was thinking, his ThunderClan nature fighting with his adopted ShadowClan self - which one would win?

Come on, she urged. I'm your sister - we've been through so much together. Just tell me! You know that's the right thing to do, don't you?

She lost: "Nothing is wrong in ShadowClan," Stoneheart insisted. "Everything is fine."

"But-"

"It's fine, Mistyfoot," Stoneheart stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "You're deputy of ThunderClan now. How about you focus on that instead?"

Mistyfoot felt the fur rise between her shoulders, and she stared indignantly at her brother as he got to his paws and stalked away, heading for the tree-bridge. Other cats were beginning to drift there, too, as the moon began to slide towards the horizon. Stoneheart only looked back to call out to Rowanclaw, who had lingered.

"Sorry," Rowanclaw offered hastily. "We've got to go."

Nightfrost stepped forward, his gaze concerned. "Something is wrong, isn't it? You know you can tell us, right?"

Rowanclaw hesitated, and for a moment, Mistyfoot wondered if he might just say something more - but Stoneheart's call came again, more insistent this time, and the dark ginger tom bounded away to meet his mate. The two toms touched noses and then disappeared in a crowd of their Clanmates.

Nightfrost sighed, annoyed. "ShadowClan!"

Mistyfoot agreed with a small nod. She only hoped ShadowClan's frosty stubbornness wouldn't come back to bite them before she could figure out how to help.