Chapter 1
Mistyfoot rested her head on her paws. From her perch on the Highledge she watched over ThunderClan camp, the starry sky above turning pale gray as dawn slowly approached and swallowed the errant stars of Silverpelt.
Not many of her Clanmates were awake at this hour - just her and the two cats she had placed on watch: Dustpelt, who sat on the fallen tree in the clearing that sheltered the nursery, and Ashfur, who peered into the forest from the top of the tumble of rocks by the warrior's den.
That secret entrance was not a likely place for an attack, but Mistyfoot couldn't help but be on edge - the battle with WindClan had only been a few days ago, and much of ThunderClan was still recovering. That route had saved lives, and WindClan knew of it now.
She still struggled to believe how things had gone so wrong between their two Clans. When she was an apprentice, ThunderClan and WindClan had been allies, but WindClan had had a different leader then - Tallstar, a wise old tom who had always preferred peace to war and had been a good friend to Tinystar.
Now, the aggressive warrior Mudstar led WindClan, and he had laid the deaths of Onewhisker, the cat whom Tallstar had named his successor, and Barkface, their wise old medicine cat, at ThunderClan's paws. WindClan's new leader seemed determined to prove himself a threat that could not be ignored and would not be swayed by old favors and friendships.
If it hadn't been for last-moment reinforcements from RiverClan and ShadowClan, Mistyfoot wasn't sure that ThunderClan would still be in this hollow today. Mudstar had been determined to drive them out or kill them all. If help hadn't come and they had held firm, they would've lost more than Sootfur in that battle.
It troubled her so much. ThunderClan wasn't responsible for the deaths of WindClan's leaders, and perhaps peace could've been reached had the blame for Emberstep's unfortunate accident in the Divide, the fast-flowing river that served as the border between the forest and the moors, not been placed at ThunderClan's paws, too.
Not for the first time, Mistyfoot wished for things to be as they had been not even a season ago - on the Great Journey from the forest to the lake, all the Clans had been allies for the sake of escaping the destruction of their old home by the encroaching Twolegs. Now, though, the borders were firmer than ever, and it seemed like every Clan was determined to prove themselves more powerful and individual than they ever were before.
She wished she hadn't been made deputy under these circumstances. She had dreamed of holding the position since kithood, when she would watch her mentor Tinystar - Tinyclaw, then - arrange patrols and lead the Clan through danger after danger in the old forest. Never had she imagined that this would be the state of her Clan when she was finally given this amazing chance.
"You're up early," came a rusty mew.
Mistyfoot's ear flicked, and she lifted her head. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't heard Tinystar moving in his den behind her. As the small black tom sat beside her, Mistyfoot pushed herself up onto her haunches.
"I couldn't sleep," Mistyfoot admitted.
Tinystar yawned. "You're not the only one," he murmured.
Mistyfoot twitched her whiskers, looking down at her leader. After losing his mate and deputy, Sandstorm, to the Twolegs in the old forest, Tinystar had struggled to get a decent night's sleep. The deaths since coming to the lake hadn't helped, either - not only had Tinystar lost two of his lives since, but he had counted Onewhisker among some of his closest friends, and losing Sootfur had hurt him greatly.
"How are things?" Tinystar asked softly.
"Quiet," Mistyfoot answered. "Thank StarClan."
Tinystar nodded in agreement. "Have you thought about today's patrols?" he wondered.
Mistyfoot hadn't, admittedly. She'd been too busy thinking about the past few days but put her mind to it now. The first few mornings of her deputyship, she'd had the excuse of tiredness from the battle for when she flubbed up assignments. Not so much now, she figured.
"Ashfur and Dustpelt will obviously need to rest," Mistyfoot began. "I was thinking Larchpaw could go on the dawn patrol, and then he and Ashfur could hunt later in the afternoon."
Tinystar nodded along. "With newleaf here, prey will be plentiful. It would be a good test of his skills to hunt without his mentor."
"Dustpelt wanted to look at some of the dens again, so I figured he could do that today, too," Mistyfoot went on. She looked out over the camp at the warrior's den, mentally tallying the warriors fit to patrol. Their numbers were thin thanks to lasting injuries. "I think I'll have to see how everyone feels when they wake up."
Tinystar twitched his tail. "Agreed. Many are still sore from the battle, and we need our strongest on the WindClan border."
Mistyfoot nodded in agreement. WindClan hadn't tried anything since the battle, seemingly cowed by Russetstar's and Leopardstar's threats to support ThunderClan if Mudstar attempted to drive them out again. Mistyfoot couldn't believe that things would remain neutral for long, though.
"Let's have Sun stay in camp today," Tinystar offered. "Sorreltail is still taking Sootfur's death hard, I think. She could use the support."
Mistyfoot felt a pang for her Clanmate. Sorreltail and her littermates had lost both their fathers when they were still kittens and their birth mother as 'paws. The three of them had only ever had each other and had been incredibly close. Sorreltail and Rainwhisker had both been beside themselves when it had come time to bury Sootfur.
Mistyfoot knew how they felt - her own littermate, Mosspaw, had been killed in the old forest during the battle with BloodClan, a group of vicious rogues from the Twolegplace who had threatened to take over Clan territory. Stoneheart wasn't dead but had chosen to live in ShadowClan, leaving Mistyfoot alone in ThunderClan, but the two of them still had to Mosspaw all the same.
"I agree, but," Mistyfoot ventured, "Sun is one of the fittest cats - I'll need her."
"I'll go in her place," Tinystar decided. Before Mistyfoot could protest, he said, "Brackenfur says that I've recovered fully, and I want to mark the WindClan border personally."
But you lost a life in the battle! Mistyfoot wanted to point out. She knew that Tinystar wouldn't appreciate it, though - his pride and strength were twice his size.
"Very well," Mistyfoot mewed, dipping her head in assent. "Sun can stay in camp."
Tinystar gave his chest fur a brisk wash. "It should be a good day," he purred. "Newleaf is here, the battle is done, and ThunderClan has a deputy again - things are looking up, I think!"
Mistyfoot appreciated his positivity, no matter how forced it sounded. It was far better than the dark thoughts that often swarmed in her own mind. She guessed that he was saying these things for the benefit of her own anxiety.
She arched her back in an impressive stretch. The sun began peering above the treeline, turning the budding branches scarlet and orange. The last, straggling stars were winking out, preparing for their day-long rest, and Mistyfoot sensed motion in the camp - her Clanmates were waking up, and they would want to know their assignments.
Whisking her tail, Mistyfoot clambered down the rocky steps from the Highledge to greet them.
Cinderpelt was the first to meet her - always an early riser, but even more so when her mate was on watch duty. Behind her were the trio of Cloudtail, Brightheart, and Swiftfoot, always together, and then came their daughter, Whitewing, who still looked very sleepy.
Mistyfoot glanced over them and saw that the other warriors were stirring, too. Soon enough, her Clanmates surrounded her, each looking to her for direction. Mistyfoot's pelt prickled - she still wasn't used to that.
"What are our assignments?" Cinderpelt asked.
Her tone was mild, but Mistyfoot felt awkward about it - Cinderpelt was a cat many seasons her senior, and to hear her defer to a much younger warrior was an uncomfortable subversion of the norm. In her mind, Mistyfoot wondered if Cinderpelt doubted her capabilities as deputy.
There was no time to ponder it, though. Quickly, Mistyfoot rattled off her plans for the day: "Firstly, Sun, I'd like you to stay in camp today. Spend some time with Sorreltail."
The ginger-and-white she-cat did not object. She looked thrilled about the idea.
"I want a dawn patrol," Mistyfoot went on. "Cloudtail, Graystripe, Swiftfoot, you three will refresh the WindClan border. Tinystar will join you."
Cloudtail's eyes brightened, and she nudged Swiftfoot. "We'll see how brave they are when they see us coming!"
"Remember, we aren't going to start a fight," Tinystar pointed out mildly from where he sat at Mistyfoot's shoulder.
Swiftfoot curled his lip, and Graystripe muttered, "Tell that to WindClan!"
Mistyfoot pushed past it. "Cinderpelt, I want you to lead a patrol along the ShadowClan border. Take Snowstep and Nightfrost with you."
Cinderpelt dipped her head. "Will do," she meowed.
"Mistyfoot, may I make a request?" the soft voice of Ferncloud was barely audible over the chirping of the morning birds.
"Sure, what is it?" Mistyfoot asked, turning to meet the queen's pale green eyes. Ferncloud had spent almost her entire warriorhood in the nursery caring for her first litter of kits, of whom only Larchpaw survived. It was hard to think of her as a warrior now.
"Silverstream and I were thinking of going hunting this morning," Ferncloud meowed, "and we'd like to take Longtail with us."
The queen's suggestion warmed Mistyfoot's heart. "That sounds fine," she agreed. "Just be careful - the land has changed now that the snow has melted."
"We can take the strip of beeches near the lake," Silverstream offered. "I'd like to try my paw at some fishing."
"Do that, yes," Mistyfoot mused. That left the upper portion of their territory, which was studded with cliffs and more treacherous terrain but full of hiding spots for prey. "Brightheart, take a hunting patrol up near the Sky Oak. There are bound to be squirrels looking for their stores. Larchpaw will accompany you."
"Can do," purred the one-eyed she-cat.
"Ashfur, after you've rested, you'll do some training with Larchpaw," Mistyfoot meowed, "and Dustpelt, I'd like you to look at the dens after you've rested, but if you want to lead another hunting patrol later, that would be fine as well."
Mistyfoot kept going: "Nightfrost, since you're fresh, I'd like you to lead a border patrol in the evening, and Mousefur, you can take another when you're done with Spiderpaw. Choose whomever you like and whichever border you want."
So far, it seemed like there were no objections. Finally, Mistyfoot meowed, "I want to add that if any of you feel any pain or aches from your injuries, stop whatever you're doing and see Brackenfur or Shadepool immediately. A Clan is only as strong as its warriors, and many of you are still healing. Don't be afraid to take it easy."
"WindClan won't," remarked Ashfur, who yawned.
"I think we gave WindClan as good as they gave us," Nightfrost pointed out mildly. "I don't think they'll start any fights for a while." Beside him, Swiftfoot, ThunderClan's fiercest fighter, nodded.
"Alright." Mistyfoot took a deep breath. She wondered if there was anything she had forgotten, but no one came forward. "Off to your duties, all of you!"
As the cats dispersed, Mistyfoot exhaled. Her heart was hammering in her ears - she wondered how long it would take her to get used to arranging patrols. It twisted her mind into knots to try to make time for every cat in the Clan to do something, not to mention taking into account their injuries or how they felt towards any particular Clan or Clanmate on a given day.
Her eye fell on Nightfrost. The small black tom was with Snowstep and Cinderpelt, chatting idly while Tinystar's patrol filed out of the thorn tunnel and into the forest. The pale dawn light shone on his pelt, and when he turned to her to wave his tail goodbye, Mistyfoot felt her heart flutter.
When he left, that gentle fluttering was replaced by a cold stone of guilt in her belly. Mistyfoot's paws kneaded the grass, hoping to shove the feeling away someplace quiet and keep it from getting out of control.
"Mistyfoot, are you free?"
The gruff voice of Mousefur pulled Mistyfoot out of her thoughts before they could begin to spiral. The small brown she-cat stared up at her with a slightly curious expression, one that faded into seriousness. With her was Spiderpaw, her apprentice, who bounced from one paw to another with wide, excited eyes.
"What is it?" Mistyfoot wondered. Her ear twitched at the realization of something she had forgotten. "Oh no, did I send another hunting patrol to where you were assessing Spiderpaw this morning?" Tinystar had determined that Spiderpaw had fought well enough in the battle to earn her warrior name but had said her hunting skills in the new territory should be assessed first.
Mousefur shook her head. "No," she assured. "I was just wondering if you might come with us."
Mistyfoot's eyes widened. Normally, an apprentice's assessment was handled by their mentor alone.
Mousefur leaned in close, sensing Mistyfoot's hesitation. "My back, you know," she hissed under her breath.
"Oh," Mistyfoot murmured. Mousefur was the eldest warrior in the Clan, and during the various skirmishes with WindClan, including the battle, she had sustained heavy injuries. Shadepool and Brackenfur had been keeping a close eye on her, but the pain seemed to be lasting.
"Of course, I'll come," Mistyfoot insisted.
The fur along Spiderpaw's spine lifted. "The deputy is going to assess me?!"
"She's just going to help," Mousefur retorted, turning a crabby expression towards her apprentice. "Don't think you only have to impress her! One word from me, and you'll be a 'paw for another moon!"
Spiderpaw was, to Mistyfoot's shock, cowed by Mousefur's remark - she lowered her head and meowed respectfully, "Of course, Mousefur."
Mistyfoot couldn't help but mumble into Mousefur's ear, "Wow, good job!"
Mousefur snorted. "Oh, please - she just wants her warrior name," she said with a rusty purr that was close to a chuckle. "Don't let her fool you!"
As if to prove Mousefur's point, Mistyfoot caught Spiderpaw spying on them out of the corner of her eye, gauging their reaction to her feigned solemnity. Mistyfoot suppressed a purr of amusement.
Quickly, Mistyfoot spotted Sun, who was emerging from the fresh-kill pile. "You have the camp, Sun," Mistyfoot meowed. "We should be back before sunhigh."
Sun dipped her head in assent, and Mistyfoot got to her paws. She didn't like the idea of leaving so few warriors in camp just after the battle, but she told herself that the patrols would be quick if they found nothing, and the hunters might be even quicker - a cat could only carry so much prey. Dustpelt and Ashfur were here, along with Rainwhisker, who was carefully grooming around a few healing wounds outside the warrior's den.
WindClan won't dare to try anything, she told herself firmly. She had to believe that, or she knew she would lose her mind. She stuffed her worries and doubts down with the guilt.
Mistyfoot took the lead, heading for the thorn tunnel. Just as they approached, the thorns rattled, and Shadepool stepped through, a bundle of plants in her jaws.
Mistyfoot drew to a surprised halt. "Oh!" she mewed. "I didn't know you had gone out!" She had been lying on the Highledge and hadn't seen Shadepool leave camp, nor had Ashfur or Dustpelt reported it.
Shadepool blinked at Mistyfoot with her deep orange eyes, staring for a long moment. Then, she set down her herbs and meowed, "I've been out for a bit, actually. Since before moonhigh." She licked her chest fur and mentioned, "Some herbs only grow by moonlight."
"Of course." Mistyfoot nodded along. "Be sure to get some rest, okay?" Among those injured in the battle, Brackenfur was the cat the whole Clan worried for - he had bravely helped Sorreltail up the rocks and out of camp, but he had badly hurt his leg in the process and hadn't been able to even leave the medicine cat cave since. Shadepool had been picking up almost all his usual duties since, leaving her busier than a bee in greenleaf.
"I shall," Shadepool purred. Her eyes sparkled affectionately, and she brushed her nose along Mistyfoot's. She smelled of fresh-picked plants and clean air. "Be careful out there."
The lovely tortoiseshell picked up her herbs and trotted away, heading across the clearing towards the medicine cat cave hidden at the back of the camp. Mistyfoot watched her disappear behind a screen of lichen.
Mistyfoot couldn't help but smile, her heart warmed. She was reminded of Shadepool's care and gentleness during their first journey to the lake and how her knowledge of herbs and StarClan's ways had been invaluable. Feathertail was in the Tribe in the mountains, Stoneheart was in ShadowClan, Crowflight was WindClan's deputy now, with all the complications that brought, and Stormfur...
She was glad she still had Shadepool and Nightfrost by her side.
"Do some herbs really only grow at night?" Spiderpaw wondered, tipping her head in confusion. "Don't plants need the sun or something?"
Mousefur rolled her eyes. "Do we look like medicine cats?" she complained. "It's probably just some excuse for her to stretch her legs. She was probably losing her mind taking care of us all on her own..."
"Time's wasting," Mistyfoot meowed briskly. "Let's go."
Mousefur kinked her tail over her back. "Couldn't agree more!"
Mousefur had chosen a spot near the lake for Spiderpaw's assessment. Mistyfoot guessed that she chose well - despite being close to the Divide, the WindClan border was a ways off, and the landscape here was perfect for testing hunting skills, with lots of nooks and crannies and low undergrowth for prey to hide in.
It also sported tall, climbable trees, which Spiderpaw quickly proved she could handle by shooting up an oak at Mousefur's request and bouncing between a few nearby trees to prove her prowess.
Mistyfoot was stunned by Spiderpaw's grace and balance - the she-cat was well known for being hardly able to sit still even during the most serious moments, so watching her carefully consider her movements so high up was almost bizarre. Most ThunderClan cats were good at climbing, but Mistyfoot had to admit that Spiderpaw seemed to be on another level.
When Spiderpaw came down to earth, Mousefur sent her off to hunt: "Keep away from the border," she said, "and remember, you won't see us, but we'll see you."
Spiderpaw nodded and was off, her long, lean body disappearing into the undergrowth.
Mousefur sighed and then drew a paw over her ear. "Let's give her a moment," she mewed. "And me, too."
Mistyfoot glanced at her Clanmate's spine. "You're hurting?" she ventured.
"A little," Mousefur admitted. "I miss the old forest - the ground there had the decency to be flat." She sat on her haunches and began to wash.
Mistyfoot nodded in agreement. The land beneath the trees by the lake was very different from what she had grown up with. Back in the old forest, if you tripped, you only worried about a sprained paw - here, tripping over the wrong place could land you in a gully with a broken leg.
"Are you thinking of retiring?" Mistyfoot dared to ask.
Mousefur looked offended only for a brief moment. "Yes," she answered, "but not just yet. I'll have to see how this back of mine heals."
"I'd hate to lose you," Mistyfoot meowed earnestly. "You've been a good friend, Mousefur."
Mousefur narrowed her eyes. "Moving into the elder's den doesn't mean I'll disappear, Misty," she grumbled. She licked her paw and rubbed her cheek.
Mistyfoot's ears burned. "I-I know!" she insisted hurriedly, "but, I mean..." She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "I just mean that I'll miss doing this sort of stuff with you."
Mousefur purred, shaking her head briskly. "I know. You're not so mysterious as you think." She whisked her tail and added wistfully, "Dustpelt sure made that elder's den comfortable, though, I'll say..."
Mistyfoot frowned. "I'd like to train an apprentice with you again," she confessed. "With Shrewpaw it didn't last long, but it was fun."
Her heart panged. Shrewpaw had been her very first apprentice and Spiderpaw's brother. Before the Twolegs invaded the forest last leaf-fall, a badger had killed him. He hadn't been an apprentice for more than a half-moon, and his loss had hung over Mistyfoot's head for a long time.
Mousefur nodded. "How often do you think about him?" she asked.
"Less, now," Mistyfoot responded quietly. "Is that bad?"
"I don't think so," Mousefur said. She sighed. "I still think of Thornpaw now and then and what could've been had he lived. But life moves on. I'm sure he understands, and plenty of cats are still around to remember him."
Mistyfoot hoped she was right. She would never truly forget Shrewpaw, but his death had been so long ago, and she was a different cat now. At least, she hoped so.
"I'd like to train another apprentice, too," Mousefur meowed on. "It sure sounds like there'll be plenty to pick from soon."
Mistyfoot's ears pricked. "Oh?"
Mousefur nodded. "I overheard Cinderpelt talking about having another litter, and Silverstream said she'd like to try again. I know Ferncloud and Snowstep want more kittens, too. Not to mention Sorreltail's lot - have you seen how big she is? There's at least three in there!"
"Oh, wow!" Mistyfoot tried to imagine just how many kittens that might be. The nursery might not be big enough!
Mousefur got to her paws and stretched carefully. Mistyfoot saw her eye twitch with a little pain, but the she-cat wouldn't appreciate being fussed over. "Yep," Mousefur exhaled through her teeth, "there'll be plenty of apprentices soon, I think, and one of them will be yours for sure."
Mistyfoot purred, "Just be sure to be there beside me!"
"I'll try," Mousefur chuckled. "Speaking of apprentices, we should probably get after mine - knowing her, she's gotten her nose stuck in a beehive!"
The two she-cats got to their paws and headed off, following Spiderpaw's scent trail. The leggy she-cat had traced a winding pattern through the forest, and they quickly came across the site of her first kill - a shrew, which she had buried in the roots of a birch.
As they continued to stalk the apprentice's trail, Mousefur asked, "So, how's being deputy? Everything you ever dreamed and more?"
Mistyfoot flicked an ear. "Yes and no," she replied.
"Oh?" Mousefur's tone turned curious. "Not like what you've wanted since kithood?"
Mistyfoot's pelt prickled with embarrassment. "I mean, it is what I expected, but maybe it's a little more boring than Tinystar made it seem," she admitted. "I just wish it didn't feel like I was chosen only to spite Mudstar."
"Oh, you know that's not true, you furball," Mousefur scoffed.
Mistyfoot paused, perched on the root of an aspen. "There are so many cats in the Clan who were better qualified," she pointed out.
"Like whom?" Mousefur wondered, looking up at her.
Mistyfoot flicked her tail. Really? she thought, annoyed. "Like, I don't know, Dustpelt? Cinderpelt? Graystripe? Cloudtail? You?"
Mousefur snorted. "I don't want to be deputy!"
"Well, that's just you!" Mistyfoot said, waving her tail, "But what about those others?" She sank her claws into the wood beneath her. "I don't know about you, Mousefur, but I feel like I didn't earn this! Any cat could have done the things that I have."
"Oh, come off it," Mousefur groaned. She stared up at Mistyfoot with a bored expression. "I guess some things just don't die with time! Sure, Misty, any cat from ThunderClan could've been chosen to lead us through the Great Journey, but StarClan chose you, and out of all the other chosen cats, you're the one who stepped up to the task. You led all of us here!"
The tip of Mousefur's tail twitched. "Yeah, sure, Tinystar might've had to make a quick decision, but he's no fool, and don't disrespect him by thinking he is - he's always made the choice he thought was right, even if not everyone agreed with him."
Mistyfoot's frustration cooled, and she felt embarrassed again, though more deeply than before. Being tongue-lashed by Mousefur felt a bit like tripping into an enemy warrior. She swallowed around her feelings and admitted, "You're right, Mousefur."
"Of course I am!" Mousefur crowed. Her tail whisked through the air. "What do you think all this age is good for, hm? Now get down here, and let's-"
"Mousefur! Mistyfoot!"
Spiderpaw burst through the bracken just then, a gray-black streak skidding to a stop just before she crashed into her mentor. Mistyfoot's pelt prickled with alarm as the dust settled - the young she-cat's eyes were wide to their whites, and she was bristling from head to toe where her fur wasn't studded with dried twigs from her mad rush through the forest.
"Great StarClan!" Mousefur hissed, arching her spine awkwardly as she stepped away from Spiderpaw. She coughed out, "What's wrong?"
Spiderpaw was panting. Between her ragged breaths, she managed, "There's trouble - hurry!"