Chapter 12

"It's not like her to just, up and disappear like this," said Tripwire, pacing the concrete floor of her den. "Oh, damn it all! I should have let her show me where that human lives. At least then, I could check to see if she's there."

"Trip, calm down, okay?" said Dart, watching her as he laid in the floor, limbs splayed about and tail rising and falling at a steady rhythm. "It's not like you didn't raise us to know how to deal with trouble."

Piper was crouched next to Vinepaw, acting as an exhausted mediator. "We do have reason to worry, but we also know that Pixie can handle herself. We don't need to panic yet."

Watching the steely she-cat carry herself with such worry did two things: it made Vinepaw worry for their lost littermate as well, and it made her jealous. Was anyone in the Clan so worried for her wellbeing? She didn't think so. All her kin were dead, and what was she but a failed apprentice?

They'd be worried about Thunderkit. She was always the good one.

The polite one. The calm and composed one. The kind of loyal, respectful kit that grew up to be a warrior. A real warrior. Not the kind that ran away just because she got in trouble for slacking off… Vinepaw had been slacking off, right? She'd deserved it, right?

Thunderkit certainly didn't.

And if Snowstripe were still alive, she'd be pacing around just like Tripwire right now. But she wasn't. Vinepaw's parents and all her littermates were looking on from somewhere, disapproval no doubt lighting their features.

Vinepaw began to think that maybe, she should never go back to the Clan-

Clatter of garbage on garbage. Virgil stumbled through the doorway. He panted, his small frame cast against a backdrop of soft, artificial light. Everyone froze in place. They stared at him, holding their breath as he tried to catch his own. His yellow eyes flashed. His fangs glinted. He drew in a breath and,

"Tripwire! Trip-you gotta come with me!"

"What is it?" she questioned.

"Did you find Pixie?" asked Piper.

"No! It's-it's Frostflare! You have to-she's gonna-we-"

Tripwire, having crossed the distance between them, placed her head atop his. Virgil leaned into her as the others gathered around. Vinepaw did her best to hide her fear. She was wretchedly sure that he could smell it regardless.

"Now, tell us what's going on."

"Archie… Archie sent me to find you. It's a… There's some kinda human trap. Frostflare got caught in it. It's bad. It's really, really bad, Tripwire! We think she's dying!"

#

Spark was neither sleeping nor awake when a familiar and eerie scent jarred him to alertness. The makeshift prison still held, and he'd been too nervous to make a move to flee. Now, he arched his back where he crouched, his fur standing up. Tigerstripe was standing there, at his only exit, staring down at him. The marble around her neck glowed.

"Hello there," she said playfully.

"You're a traitor," he hissed. "When Ph- when… When His Majesty gets to you-"

She giggled. "Oh, stop it. I do what I want. And right now, I want to ask you a question: between Pharaoh and us, who has more power?"

He curled up, wrapping his tail around his legs. "You want… You want me to say that it's you. But-"

"No, no. Us."

"I don't serve you!"

"No. You don't." She sighed and looked away for a moment. "Allow me to rephrase: between a king and his people, who has more power?"

Spark blinked at her, his nerves beginning to settle. "The king?"

"Are you sure?"

"This is ridiculous."

"Think. We're running out of time."

"For what?"

She leaned in close. "Are you sure that it's the king and not the subjects?"

"Yes. The king's the one with all the power. He makes all the decisions. He has all the authority."

"And his subjects are supposed to yield to that authority, yes? They have to follow his orders?"

"That's how it works."

"Then tell me how I'm not."

The human music shook the ground.

"He'll kill you. He kills everyone who doesn't listen to him."

"What if he can't?"

"He'll have help."

"What if the help fails? Or, what if they decide they're on my side now?"

He stared.

"Now, do you see who has more power?"

"It'll never work. Whatever you're planning, it'll never work," he argued. "Pharaoh isn't like a normal cat. He can make people do what he wants."

"Can he?" She grinned. "Then, how has the Clan resisted him for so long?"

"What are you saying?" he growled, tail lashing. "What the hell are you telling me to do, you freak of nature? Join the Clan with you?"

"I'm telling you that you're free to make a choice."

Yowling. Cats barking orders at each other. The ground shook so hard from the human songs that rubble danced on the concrete floor.

"Make it."

His heart pounded like thunder. There was a gleam of too many eyes as Tigerstripe turned to leave. Spark remained, paralyzed. The Colony was here.

The Colony was here. He should have been relieved. He wasn't. He was a prisoner here and still ate more in this place than His Majesty had ever allowed. The Clan weren't as cruel as they liked outsiders to think.

What would Pharaoh do to him for failing to bring back information? For being captured? For needing rescue? What would Pharaoh do to him as punishment for his failure?

Spark peered through little gaps in the debris. Shadowed shapes rippled through the night. Blood scent tainted the air. His Majesty was here. His Majesty was done playing nice. He wasn't going to put a muzzle on his powers tonight. No, tonight, he was going to go all out.

Pharaoh leaped. There was a flash of blackness, and he was across the room. He called out for Darkwood to show himself.

His claws glowed with gold and sapphire. "Where are you? Let's settle this! Or have you finally abandoned this Clan like the mouse you are?"

"Don't talk about our leader that way!"

An orange monster of a cat was charging him. Pharaoh's eyes locked on him, and he jerked his muzzle. Hawktalon flew through the air and landed somewhere in the crowd. A presence behind him. He whipped around, swinging his claws at a torbie she-cat. Lilyfang stumbled away, three jagged beams of shimmering light splayed across her face. A young gray tom was next. Pharaoh slithered past his blows and sank his teeth in Ironpaw's throat. With a rumble in his chest, he pulled.

And pulled.

The noise was sickening. Blood splashed on the floor. Ironpaw dropped to his side, gurgling. Pharaoh held up the mound of flesh for all to see.

Then, he was down.

There was a Look in Steelclaw's eyes that made no one brave enough to stand in his path.

#

Mosswhisker wrenched off half of her enemy's toes. They fled without any more encouragement. She looked around and spotted Bellpaw standing there like a frightened kit. Her eyes were wide as saucers. Her white fur was caked with blood. She was shaking.

"Bell, move!"

"Pharaoh… What the fuck is happening? He's doing things no cat should be able to do!"

"We'll think about it later. Get the queens out of here and guard them with your life!"

"But he's-"

"Those kits are the Clan's future, you little mouse-heart! Find them!"

"What if-"

She was nose-to-nose with the apprentice, and felt Rubyheart's voice spill out of her mouth: "You pathetic little piece of roach dirt! Get moving or admit you're a coward and you don't deserve a warrior name!"

She didn't know if it was the anger or the words that sprang Bellpaw into motion. All she knew was that she didn't like it. There was no time to dwell on it. She threw herself back into the fray.

#

At last, the gray tom was out of his way. Pharaoh's tail thrashed as he scanned the chaos for any sign of Darkwood. His gaze landed instead on a pair of familiar, timid eyes. Rage pulsing through him, he leaped over to the Clan's little makeshift prison where Spark was hiding.

"You," he growled, pushing his way into the cramped clearing and forcing Spark back against its wall. "I sent you here to do one damn thing, Spark. One thing, and you can't even get it done right."

"I'm sorry!" he cried, instinct taking over. He bowed low to the floor. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. Please… Please, don't-"

"ENOUGH!"

A thunderclap. Spark's ears were ringing. Dull throbbing. Numb in the ribs and a foreleg.

Pharaoh blinked at the cloud of smoke. Using so much power was taking its toll. His blood burned, but he couldn't leave this be, not yet. He turned his gaze to the little offshoot room filled to the brim with clutter. Darkwood had to be there. It was time to show the modern cats just what a real king was capable of.

Just what a god could do.

#

Steelclaw shivered, hunched over the mangled body of his last kit. The last of his kin. The last piece of her he had. He couldn't be angry with Shadefur for tending to other wounds; there was nothing to be done for this. The certainty was a stone in his chest.

If only he'd been able to teach him more. Make him stronger, faster, smarter… If only Darkwood would have let him mentor Ironpaw instead… If only the Clan had done more to prepare. If only, if only… but now, it was too late.

"You've done well," he promised, his side alight with pain and blood pumping its way from a gaping wound in the side of his neck. "You've made me proud, Ironpaw. You were the bravest, strongest apprentice the Clan's ever seen. And I think… I think you'll leave us with your proper name."

The life had already left Ironpaw's eyes, his body already cooling.

"Ironclaw. You'll be Ironclaw, now. Our Clan's best warrior…"

Steelclaw was battered beyond recognition. Shining claw marks marred one side of his ribcage, he was sure the other side was all broken, and blood streamed steadily from the wound on his neck. Steady, but slowing, thanks to Shadefur's quick work with the cobwebs.

Steelclaw was still breathing, in spite of it all, and his son was not. It was then, in the midst of a brutal summer's heat, that everything in him froze. The last of something seeped out of his being, and he became little more than a set of claws.

He passed out.

#

Spark came to in the alley behind the building. His mind was fractured in a million different ways. When the pain subsided enough for him to think, he raised his head and saw that he was lined up with the many wounded Clan cats.

A shadow bolted from one to another, tending to everyone as well she could. Her golden eyes were shining with fear, but also a weathered determination like a flame that couldn't die. She eventually made her way over to him. He parted his jaws to speak.

"Your ribs and one of your forelegs are badly broken. I don't know if your shoulder will heal right. But I've given you what I can for now, and we'll play the rest by ear."

"I-I… wha-but… Why are you-"

"He blasted you through the wall of your cage. Are you really going to stay loyal to him?" Another patient's arrival snapped her attention away. "I don't think you're a bad cat just because you were with him. I… I don't know if…"

She hurried to tend to someone else.