Darkest Night

CHAPTER 12

The gorge was smaller than Violetpaw had imagined. Its sandy walls glowed yellow in the evening sun, but its depths were swathed in purple shadow. The scent of water mingled with the fragrant tang of the scrubby bushes that clung to the sides of the narrow canyon.

Beside her, Hawkwing stood as still as a rock. Blossomheart, Rabbitleap, and Molewhisker flanked them, their pelts dusty from the journey.

Hawkwing’s gaze was fixed on the ravine he’d called home for so long. “Listen.”

Violetpaw pricked her ears, wondering what she was meant to be listening to.

“Can you hear it?” Hawkwing’s words were hardly more than a breath.

“What?” Molewhisker blinked at him.

Blossomheart’s eyes shone. “The stream.”

Violetpaw leaned forward. Through the soft whisper of the wind, she could hear a stream echoing far below.

Hawkwing looked at her, his yellow eyes clouded. “That sound will always remind me of home.”

For the first time, Violetpaw felt distance between them. He’d seen so much that she’d not shared. She hoped that, one day, the sound of the stream in their new home would touch him the same way.

He padded to the edge, his paws showering grit into the gorge. Violetpaw could see by the stiff way he held his tail that he was anxious. She could understand why. Although she didn’t know every detail of the story, she knew that the rogues had driven SkyClan from their home many moons ago. Some cats, unable or unwilling to make the long journey in search of the other Clans, had stayed nearby. Hawkwing was hoping that some of them would have returned to the gorge.

Paw steps scuffed the ground behind them.

Violetpaw spun around. Two young cats raced toward them, ears flat, teeth showing. One was a black-and-white she-cat; the other a tan tom. She backed up against Hawkwing, her heart lurching.

The she-cat skidded to a halt in front of the patrol and glared at Molewhisker. “What are you doing here?”

“This is our land!” The tom stopped beside her and hissed.

Molewhisker glanced coolly at Hawkwing. He was clearly unruffled by the two young cats. They were hardly bigger than Violetpaw. They were certainly no match for warriors. “Are these your Clanmates?” the ThunderClan warrior asked Hawkwing.

Hawkwing shrugged. “I’ve never seen them before.”

The black-and-white she-cat bristled. “I don’t know who you are, but get off our territory!” Her amber eyes flashed with hostility.

Violetpaw admired her courage. “We’re looking for our Clanmates.”

The she-cat’s gaze snapped to her. “Then you’re looking in the wrong Clan,” she snarled.

“Palepaw!” A meow sounded behind the she-cat. A black-and-white tom padded from the gorse and flicked his tail. “We should welcome our friends.”

“They’re not friends.” The tan tom curled his lips. “They’re probably rogues. We should drive them away.”

“You’re not driving anyone away, Gravelpaw.” The black-and-white tom padded closer, his eyes glowing.

Violetpaw heard her father’s breath quicken.

“Fidgetpaw!” Hawkwing sounded like he could hardly believe his eyes.

Fidgetpaw whisked his tail. “Hawkwing!” He broke into a run.

Palepaw frowned angrily. “Do you know these cats?”

Fidgetpaw pushed past her. “Of course I know them. They’re SkyClan cats. Hawkwing’s father was Sharpclaw.”

“Sharpclaw?” Gravelpaw sounded surprised. “The old deputy?”

Fidgetpaw didn’t reply. He was staring happily at Hawkwing. “You came. I dreamed you would. I’ve been waiting for days.” He turned to Blossomheart and Rabbitleap. “It’s great to see you all.”

Hawkwing thrust his muzzle against Fidgetpaw’s cheek, purring loudly. “You escaped!”

Fidgetpaw joined the purring as Blossomheart and Rabbitleap wound around him. “Of course I escaped. You didn’t think Twolegs could hold me for long, did you?”

“I’m so sorry we couldn’t save you.” Emotion thickened Hawkwing’s mew. Violetpaw heard guilt there. “There was nothing we could do.”

Fidgetpaw blinked at him. “I know,” he mewed solemnly. “It’s okay.”

Hawkwing’s stiffness seemed to soften as though a weight had been lifted from him. He glanced at Violetpaw. “Twolegs caught Fidgetpaw and took him away,” he explained. “I thought I’d never see him again. He was SkyClan’s medicine-cat apprentice.”

Paws scrabbled below them. Violetpaw turned, ears twitching, as a gray tabby she-cat and a pale brown tom climbed out of the gorge and gasped, their eyes landing on Hawkwing. Two young cats—one black, one brown—jumped up behind them.

“Is it really you?” asked the pale brown tom.

Palepaw blinked at them. “We thought these cats were intruders.” She puffed out her chest. “But Fidgetpaw won’t let us drive them off.”

“He says they’re SkyClan cats,” Gravelpaw grunted.

“They are indeed,” whispered the gray tabby she-cat, moving forward. “Blossomheart! Hawkwing!”

Hawkwing dipped his head to the she-cat. “Mintfur.” His eyes shone in the dying sunlight. “It’s good to see you.”

Mintfur nodded, seeming to try to compose herself, as Blossomheart blinked happily at the pale brown tom. “You look well, Nettlesplash.”

“So do you.” Nettlesplash beckoned the two young cats forward with his tail. “These are our kits, Nectarpaw and Fringepaw.” He nodded to Palepaw and Gravelpaw. “It looks like you’ve already met the rest of our litter.”

Mintfur paced around Hawkwing’s patrol. She stopped beside Molewhisker, her nose twitching. “And you are? Your scent is strange.”

Molewhisker nodded politely. “I’m ThunderClan,” he explained. “I came to show them the way.”

“And who’s this?” Nettlesplash blinked kindly at Violetpaw.

Violetpaw moved closer to Hawkwing, feeling suddenly shy. “I’m Violetpaw.”

“She’s my kit.” Hawkwing licked her head. “I have another kit too, Twigpaw. She stayed beside the lake.”

Mintfur lifted her tail. “Where’s Pebble—”

Violetpaw interrupted her. “Pebbleshine died when Twigpaw and I were kits,” she mewed quickly. She wanted to save Hawkwing from having to tell the story again.

“I’m sorry.” Mintfur locked gazes with Hawkwing, compassion filling her round, blue eyes. “We have all lost so much. But to lose someone so precious must be hard.”

Violetpaw’s throat tightened with emotion as Hawkwing answered.

“It was. But in losing Pebbleshine, I found my kits and a new home.”

“Have you traveled far?” Nettlesplash seemed eager to move the conversation on.

“We’ve walked for a quarter moon,” Hawkwing told him.

“You must be tired,” Nettlesplash meowed. “Come and rest in the gorge. The fresh-kill pile is full.”

Violetpaw followed her father as the gorge cats led them down a steep trail that wound down the side of the narrow canyon. She shivered as they padded from evening sunlight into violet shadow. But as the trail reached the bottom, Nettlesplash headed along the stream and showed the way into a sheltered hollow beside it, where the stone still held the day’s warmth. Spiky bushes jutted from the cliffs above it, shielding the space from the chilly evening air. A pile of prey lay at one end.

“This is where we sleep now,” Mintfur told them.

Hawkwing looked up at holes in the sides of the gorge. “Don’t you use the caves?” he asked in surprise.

“There are so few of us left.” Mintfur watched her kits follow Rabbitleap, Blossomheart, and Molewhisker into the hollow.

Fidgetpaw padded in last. “It feels safer to stay together. We post a guard while we sleep,” he mewed.

“Foxes come at night,” Gravelpaw added.

Violetpaw tried to imagine how the gorge had been when it was home to a whole Clan. She imagined cats patrolling the top and slipping in and out of the caves and following the narrow paths around its sides. Where had Hawkwing slept when he was an apprentice? She pictured him practicing battle moves beside the stream. It would have been a fun place to grow up. She wished Twigpaw were here to see it.

Hawkwing was gazing around the stone walls; she wondered if he was remembering. He blinked at Mintfur. “Why have you stayed?”

“Where else could we go?” she answered.

Fidgetpaw padded forward. “We wanted to rebuild the Clan, but surviving with so few warriors is hard.”

Mintfur and Nettlesplash exchanged glances. “And it’s difficult to trust new cats,” Nettlesplash admitted. “After Darktail.”

Violetpaw glanced at her father. They’re not rebuilding SkyClan here, are they? They’re supposed to come back with us! But Hawkwing wasn’t looking at her as he padded around the hollow, mouth open as though breathing in old scents. “Darktail’s dead,” he mewed.

Mintfur’s eyes flashed maliciously. “Good.”

“And his rogues?” Nettlesplash narrowed his eyes.

“The Clans chased them off.” Rabbitleap bent to smell the fresh-kill pile. A thrush lay on top.

Fidgetpaw hurried to his side. “Help yourself.” He spread the prey out with his paw and stepped back to let the patrol choose from it.

Violetpaw glanced at Hawkwing. Her belly was hollow with hunger, but she didn’t want to steal prey from this tiny Clan. It might have taken them all day to fill the pile.

Hawkwing nodded her forward. “Take what you like. We can help restock the pile tomorrow.”

“There’s plenty of prey around here.” Fidgetpaw seemed to guess her reluctance. “It’s flourishing with so few cats to hunt it.”

The gorge cats hung back politely while their visitors took a piece of prey each, waiting for them to settle before choosing food for themselves.

Violetpaw sat beside Hawkwing and took a bite from a soft, juicy mouse. It was sweet, ripened by leaf-fall, and she relished the flavor on her tongue. Pleasure warmed her belly. They had made it to the gorge and found Clanmates. But would these cats return to the lake with them? She swallowed and licked her lips. “When are you going to ask them?” she murmured to Hawkwing as she took another mouthful.

“Ask us what?” Palepaw looked up from the robin she was eating, her ears twitching.

The other gorge cats paused and stared at Violetpaw. She froze, the mouse turning dry on her tongue, and wished she’d never spoken.

Hawkwing wrapped his tail around her. “We came to ask you to return to the lake with us. We’ve found the other Clans, and we have territory. The land is good. There is prey and shelter, and the other Clans say that Twolegs come in summer, but they don’t disturb our camps.”

The gorge cats looked at each other.

Gravelpaw blinked. “We can’t leave the gorge,” he mewed. “It’s our home.”

Mintfur looked thoughtful. “Our home is with SkyClan.”

“We are SkyClan,” Palepaw pointed out.

“We are,” Nettlesplash agreed. “But our leader and deputy are not with us.”

“Then they should come here,” Palepaw mewed.

Fidgetpaw peered out of the small hollow, his gaze following the stream as it flowed along the gorge. “I think StarClan would want us to be with the other Clans,” he meowed softly. “They led Leafstar and Hawkwing to the lake for a reason. I think we should go with them. The gorge will never be what it once was to us.” He looked from Mintfur to Nettlesplash.

“It might be good to leave the bad memories behind us,” Nettlesplash agreed.

Mintfur’s pelt ruffled. She looked at Fidgetpaw. “What about Frecklewish?”

Fidgetpaw dropped his gaze.

“We can’t abandon her!” Mintfur stared at him, her pelt twitching.

Hawkwing scrambled to his paws. “You know where she is?” He sounded amazed. “She’s been missing for so long, I thought she was dead.”

Fidgetpaw looked up, his eyes glittering in the half-light. “Twolegs took her,” he meowed darkly. “They’re holding her captive.”

“Where?”

Violetpaw heard excitement in her father’s mew.

Nettlesplash turned his vole over and took a bite. “Rest tonight, and in the morning we’ll show you.”

Violetpaw gazed out from the woods. Ahead, the forest opened onto stone where a huge Twoleg den rose into the sky. Violetpaw’s neck ached from craning to see the top. “It must touch the clouds,” she whispered breathlessly.

Blossomheart and Hawkwing flanked her. Rabbitleap, Nettlesplash, and Mintfur clustered beside them while Palepaw and Gravelpaw hung back in the shade of the trees with Fringepaw and Nectarpaw.

Fidgetpaw padded from the forest, his black-and-white fur glossy in the early morning light. Monsters slumbered on the stone at the far side of the nest. “It’s full of Twolegs.” His mew was tight with fear. “We’ve seen them come and go.”

Violetpaw’s pelt prickled anxiously. “It’s like a camp.”

“Full of nests,” Blossomheart breathed.

“It’s more like a beehive,” Mintfur growled.

“Why do they want to live so high in the air?” Bellaleaf asked. “They can’t fly.”

Fidgetpaw shrugged. “Perhaps it’s so they can see if danger’s coming.”

“Why do Twolegs need to look out for danger?” Blossomheart grunted. “They cause most of it.”

Hawkwing padded to Fidgetpaw’s side. “Is Frecklewish in there?”

Fidgetpaw looked up to a row of shiny squares near the top. “I’ve seen her through one of the clear walls up there.” He nodded to the trees that grew beside the great hive. Their tops reached just a little higher than Frecklewish’s prison. “From up there, I could see her moving around inside.”

“You’ve climbed to the top?” Violetpaw gasped, her paws prickling with fear.

Fidgetpaw nodded. “One of the clear walls slides open sometimes, and she comes out onto the ledge.” Outside Frecklewish’s nest, a wide slab of stone jutted out, edged by a low wall. “But it’s too far to jump from the ledge to the tree.”

Violetpaw felt dizzy at the thought. The trees tapered at the top, and the gap between the ledge and the treetop was wider than any cat could jump. “If only she were being held in a nest near the bottom.” There, the longer branches reached close to the camp walls. “She could make the jump easily.”

Gravelpaw edged forward. “Nettlesplash managed to sneak through the hive entrance once.”

“It’s like a rabbit warren in there. So many smells and so many Twolegs coming and going.” Nettlesplash shuddered. “I didn’t find Frecklewish’s nest. I was lucky to find my way out.”

Violetpaw scanned the Twoleg hive, her gaze sweeping the smooth walls from the great slab of stone sticking outside Frecklewish’s nest to the ground. The trees weren’t the answer. There had to be another way down. To one side she saw other ledges, smaller than Frecklewish’s. They clung to the side of the huge nest, one under another, from the roof nearly to the ground. They were woven from what looked like thin, black branches. Her pelt prickled with excitement as she realized that each ledge was joined to the one below by a small stretch of steps. At the bottom, there was a long drop to the ground, but the lowest branches of a tree nearly touched the final ledge. If Frecklewish could reach those ledges, she’d be able to use them as an escape. Heart quickening, Violetpaw looked back at Frecklewish’s nest. The stone slab was several tail-lengths from the closest woven ledge. Violetpaw’s breath caught in her throat. Could Frecklewish make the jump? The drop to the ground would be deadly. But it might be Frecklewish’s only chance for escape.

She nudged Hawkwing’s shoulder with her nose. “I’m not sure,” she whispered. “But I think I have an idea.”