Darkest Night

CHAPTER 3

Violetpaw was dreaming. Ferns trembled in a moonlit clearing. Black shadows, soft as fur, hid the forest. She knew this place. It was where Alderheart and Needletail had brought her and Twigpaw to meet when they were kits.

She heard a muffled squeak and the brush of fur against leaves. She purred quietly to herself. Didn’t Twigpaw realize she was making more noise than anything in the forest? Stealthily she crossed the shallow dip in the forest floor, creeping on silent paws toward the ferns.

They quivered as she approached. She pricked her ears and heard her sister breathing. ThunderClan cats are so bad at hide-and-seek. She ducked low. She wasn’t sure she had ever quite fit in at ShadowClan, but they’d taught her how to move as silently as moonlight.

She stopped at the ferns, her heart quickening. She could hear her sister trying hard to swallow a purr and not succeeding. She paused, relishing her triumph. In a moment she’d dive into the thick foliage and give Twigpaw a surprise that would make her squeak out loud.

A rush of gratitude swelled in her chest. Thank you, Needletail, for bringing me here. As she thought of her friend, Violetpaw stiffened. A silver tail was snaking between the trees.

She forgot her game. “Needletail!” She had to catch up to Needletail. It had been so long since she’d seen her. “Wait for me!” Haring into the darkness, she raced after the flash of silver. Needletail kept moving, her pelt flitting like starlight through the shadows. Leaves crunched beneath Violetpaw’s pads. Wind ruffled her ears. “Needletail! Wait!” Why was Needletail running away? “I have to talk to you.” She ran faster, but Needletail kept ahead. The lithe she-cat seemed to be moving effortlessly, while Violetpaw struggled to follow. Brambles snagged her fur. Roots caught her paws. Violetpaw felt her lungs burn with effort. She struggled on, her limbs heavy, the air seeming to thicken around her so that she felt as if she were struggling through water. Needletail kept darting ahead like a fish. “Please! Wait!”

At last, Needletail paused. Violetpaw glimpsed her green eyes as they flashed in the shadows.

“Why chase me now?” Needletail’s mew was cold and mocking. “You made your choice.”

Dread surged through Violetpaw, jolting her awake. “No, I didn’t!”

A voice sounded beside her. “Violetpaw? Are you okay?”

Violetpaw was still half dreaming. Needletail’s scent was heavy on the air. “I never wanted to lose you.”

“Violetpaw. Wake up. You’re dreaming.”

“It was never a choice!” Her own mew surprised her. She lifted her head and opened her eyes. She was in the temporary den she’d made with Hawkwing and Twigpaw. She could feel the warmth of their bodies. Darkness swathed her. It was the middle of the night.

Hawkwing was blinking at her. “You were dreaming.”

She dragged her thoughts from her dream and blinked back at him. Beside them, Twigpaw was snoring, lost in sleep.

Violetpaw realized she was with her whole family. Twigpaw came with us to SkyClan. The thought still surprised her. Twigpaw had always seemed so comfortable in ThunderClan.

“Are you okay?” Concern shadowed Hawkwing’s round eyes. “Was it a bad dream?”

“Not a bad dream.” Violetpaw shifted in her nest. She didn’t want to explain. “Just weird.”

He frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Violetpaw rested her muzzle on her paws and closed her eyes before he could ask any more. As she did, an image of Needletail flashed in her thoughts.

Panic spiked her pelt like burning splinters. Her friend was in the river. Darktail was holding her beneath the water. As Needletail struggled beneath his paws, the rogue stared blankly at Violetpaw. “Maybe you’re right,” he meowed. “Maybe I should give Needletail another chance. What do you think?”

“Oh, yes!” Violetpaw remembered the dumb relief she had felt. “Please give her another chance! I’ll do anything you want!” It hadn’t been enough! Grief twisted her heart. If only I’d tried harder.

Horror pulsed in her paws. She wanted to run, to let the chilly night air wash the memory away. But she couldn’t let Hawkwing see her pain. She hadn’t told him the whole story about Needletail, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. What if he wants nothing to do with me after he hears that I let her die?

“Thanks.” Violetpaw sniffed the mouse that Twigpaw had brought from the prey pile. It smelled stale. Hawkwing stretched beside her in the dawn light. He yawned.

Violetpaw felt a flash of guilt. “Sorry I woke you last night.”

“It’s okay.” Hawkwing sat down, nodding thanks to Twigpaw, who had brought him a vole. “I went back to sleep pretty quickly.”

“What happened?” Twigpaw dropped her own mouse and settled beside them. “Did you wake up last night?”

“Violetpaw had a bad dream,” Hawkwing told her.

“Not a bad dream.” Violetpaw repeated, trying to make herself believe it. “Just a weird one.”

“You seemed pretty upset,” Hawkwing meowed.

“It doesn’t matter.” Violetpaw wanted to change the subject.

Twigpaw took a bite of her mouse. “Violetpaw’s always been sensitive,” she mewed, chewing.

Around them, SkyClan had woken up. Fallowfern shared tongues with Bellaleaf. Blossomheart was showing Finpaw a hunting crouch, but she looked up and nodded when she saw Twigpaw and Violetpaw. Violetpaw nodded back quickly before focusing on her prey. She knew the she-cat was her kin, and she had been nothing but kind to her, but Violetpaw didn’t quite feel comfortable around any cat but Twigpaw or Hawkwing.

Leafstar rummaged through the fresh-kill pile. It was still well stocked from yesterday.

Three sunrises had passed since they’d left the ThunderClan camp. In that time they’d made progress on building their own new camp. Leafstar had picked out the small clearing where the pine trees opened to let a narrow stream cut through. Cedar and juniper grew here, creating a curious oasis among the straight lines of pine. Violetpaw knew the spot well. Needletail had shown it to her many moons ago. Low branches, hung with dusty lichen, formed a natural dome for the grove. Soft green moss grew over the smooth rocks, which edged the stream. Ferns made natural walls, though Leafstar planned to reinforce them with bramble twines. The SkyClan leader had already chosen a low-growing juniper for the apprentices’ den and a bramble for the warriors’ den, though it would take some work to make them habitable. Another bramble thicket, growing where the stream flowed into the camp, would be the nursery. Macgyver and Sparrowpelt were working on it now, weaving in straggling tendrils to strengthen the walls. Tinycloud had already made a nest inside.

Leafstar’s den was a hollow in the old cedar at the far end of camp. Its entrance was at the top of a tangle of roots. The space below, where the roots formed a natural cave, would make a good medicine den when the Clan had decided who its medicine cat would be.

Violetpaw bit into her mouse, stung by Twigpaw’s words. Violetpaw has always been sensitive. Her sister hadn’t meant them meanly but it felt like a criticism. Violetpaw prickled with resentment. You were raised among cats who wanted you around. She glanced at Twigpaw, who was happily eating. Maybe if you’d been the one chosen for ShadowClan, you’d be sensitive too.

Twigpaw looked up from her meal. “What was your dream about?”

Violetpaw avoided her gaze. “Nothing really.”

“Let her be,” Hawkwing mewed softly.

“It had to be something if it woke you and Hawkwing up.” Twigpaw took another bite of mouse and stared inquisitively at Violetpaw. “I want to know.”

“It was about Needletail.” Violetpaw stared at her mouse.

“Needletail was Violetpaw’s friend,” Twigpaw explained to Hawkwing. “Darktail killed her.”

Violetpaw shuddered.

Hawkwing rested his tail over hers. “We’ve all lost someone.” He gazed sympathetically into her eyes. “Please don’t feel alone in your grief.” He nodded toward Macgyver, raising his voice so the black-and-white tom could hear. “We’ve all suffered these past moons.”

Macgyver turned from his work to meet the deputy’s gaze. “That’s true enough.” He glanced at Blossomheart. The look seemed to flit around the camp, passing from one cat to another, making them pause and grow solemn as though awaking sad memories.

Leafstar straightened beside the fresh-kill pile. “We are not the Clan we used to be,” she admitted. “But once we are settled, I will send a patrol back to the gorge to look for lost Clanmates who may still be alive.” She spoke encouragingly. “We must not give up hope on all those who are lost.”

“There must be more of us still alive,” Blossomheart agreed.

Tinycloud padded toward the stream. “Once my kits are born, the Clan will seem more like its old self.”

Hawkwing purred. “It will be good to have kits running around.”

“Do you ever wonder what we looked like when we were kits?” Twigpaw looked at him brightly.

“Every day.” Hawkwing’s eyes glazed wistfully.

“Do you miss our mother?” Twigpaw asked.

Violetpaw glared at her. Were all ThunderClan cats so insensitive? Twigpaw seemed unaware of her stare. She blinked at her father, waiting for an answer.

“Yes.” Hawkwing’s mew was husky. Violetpaw winced, feeling his grief. “Pebbleshine was kind and warm. I loved her very much.”

“Will you tell us about her?” Twigpaw asked.

“He will, when he’s ready,” Violetpaw mewed quickly.

Hawkwing glanced gratefully at Violetpaw. “It’s okay, Violetpaw. I’m always happy to talk about your mother.”

Violetpaw dropped her gaze. Did he really mean it? She was curious about the cat who had kitted them, then died before they’d opened their eyes. She wished she remembered, but Pebbleshine had no real shape in her thoughts. I don’t even remember her scent.

Twigpaw jumped to her paws. “Tell us about her while we’re hunting.” She glanced eagerly toward the fern tunnel that formed the camp entrance. “I have so many questions!”

Hawkwing purred fondly. “Let me finish my vole first.” He glanced at Violetpaw. She was halfway through her mouse. “We’d better hurry up or Twigpaw will leave without us.”

Twigpaw blinked at him, puzzled. “I’d never leave without you,” she mewed earnestly.

“Of course not,” Hawkwing soothed. “I was just teasing.”

Violetpaw gulped down the rest of her mouse. I hope hunting makes Twigpaw forget her questions. When Hawkwing had finished his vole, they headed out of camp.

The land Rowanstar had given to SkyClan ran half the length of the ThunderClan border and reached like a paw down to the lake’s edge. SkyClan had a small stretch of shore, though their land grew wider as it reached into the pine forest.

As Twigpaw trotted ahead, tail high, Violetpaw recalled how she had told Rowanstar that she wanted to leave ShadowClan and become a SkyClan cat. He had been standing on the lakeside while the SkyClan cats sniffed the water’s edge and marked the borders of their new home.

“I understand.” Rowanstar had looked at her, his gaze betraying little. She had wondered if he was sad to lose her or simply unsurprised by her decision.

“I want to be with my kin,” she explained. “But I’ll always be grateful to ShadowClan for taking me in.” As she spoke, Violetpaw felt a flash of guilt. She wasn’t grateful. She wished they’d never separated her from Twigpaw. But perhaps they’d meant well. Perhaps she’d just never gotten a chance to see the real ShadowClan—before the rogues came.

Rowanstar dipped his head. “I respect your decision.”

He padded away, leaving Violetpaw alone in the chilly wind from the lake. He must be angry that she was abandoning the Clan when it was so short of cats. And yet she sensed that his disappointment was not too great. After all, she had left ShadowClan to live with the rogues. Perhaps, after all that had happened, he felt he would never be able to trust her.

“Are the ditches this way?” Twigpaw paused and glanced back at Violetpaw. The ditches were the best place for easy hunting. Prey liked to run along the gullies.

“No.” Violetpaw hurried to catch up and nodded toward the rise. “They’re over here.” Twigpaw was still finding it hard to navigate the pine forest.

Twigpaw frowned. “All the trees look the same,” she complained.

“You’ll get used to it,” Violetpaw promised. “When you’ve been here a bit longer you’ll realize that pine trees are as different from one another as they are from oak and ash.”

Twigpaw looked unconvinced. “Yeah, sure,” she sniffed.

“Let Violetpaw lead the way,” Hawkwing called from behind them. “You can learn from her.”

Twigpaw’s tail drooped as Violetpaw slid past her and started along the rise to where it began to dip. Violetpaw felt a twinge of guilt. I can’t help knowing this territory better than you. She guessed that her sister felt self-conscious about still being a ’paw. After all, Twigpaw had passed her assessment back in ThunderClan. I hope Leafstar gives her a warrior name soon. She’s worked hard and she deserves it. “The ditches are downslope,” she told her. “Just remember to follow the way water flows.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Twigpaw fell in beside Hawkwing and changed the subject. “You were going to tell us about Pebbleshine.”

Violetpaw glanced back at her father, trying to read his gaze. Did it still hurt to talk about his lost mate? She quickened her pace. Once they started hunting, Twigpaw would be too busy to ask questions.

Hawkwing swished his tail. “I’ll tell you about one time she was training,” he began. “Your mother had only been an apprentice for a moon, but it had already been far too long as far as she was concerned.”

“I know how she felt.” Twigpaw sighed.

Hawkwing went on. “She was desperate to impress her mentor, Billystorm. She woke before dawn every day and practiced warrior moves before he woke up. Billystorm would always emerge from his den to find her ambushing pinecones in the camp clearing or stalking crickets.” Hawkwing purred fondly, as though relishing the memory. “One day, he set her a test. She was supposed to find a secret way out of the gorge, then catch a rabbit, then head back to camp. But Billystorm told her that, along the route, he would ambush her and try to take her rabbit. She was supposed to escape the ambush, take the rabbit, and race Billystorm back to camp.” Hawkwing swished his tail. “She was so excited. This was her chance to really impress Billystorm. I remember how her fur ruffled along her spine as she searched the gorge for a secret way to climb out.” His eyes darkened wistfully. “She seemed so young.”

Violetpaw heard his mew catch in his throat. “You don’t have to tell us the story now,” she called over her shoulder.

“Yes, you do!” Twigpaw mewed eagerly. “I want to know what happened.”

“Pebbleshine did everything right. She climbed out of the gorge and caught a rabbit and, when Billystorm ambushed her, she fought him off using all the battle moves he’d taught her. But she forgot one important thing.”

Hawkwing paused teasingly.

“Tell us!” Twigpaw demanded.

Hawkwing purred. “She left the rabbit where Billystorm had ambushed her. She’d been so desperate to beat him back to camp that she forgot all about it and raced home as fast as she could.”

“Oh no!” Twigpaw gasped. “She must have been so disappointed.”

“Wait and see.”

Violetpaw pricked her ears. She was as keen as Twigpaw to hear what happened next.

Hawkwing flicked his tail. “Pebbleshine realized her mistake as soon as she reached the camp. She knew Billystorm couldn’t be far behind. I was waiting at the entrance to see how she had done. When she saw me, she begged me to help. She was so out of breath she could hardly talk. She told me to distract Billystorm. She said I must run to a Twoleg nest nearby and climb a tree and wait there. I thought she had bees in her brains. How would climbing a tree distract Billystorm? But I did it. I ran to the nearest Twoleg nest and climbed the first tree I came to. Before long, I saw Billystorm racing toward me. His fur was standing on end. He stopped below the tree and called up to me.” Hawkwing roughened his mew, clearly impersonating Billystorm. “‘Hawkwing! Are you okay? Pebblepaw told me she thought she’d seen a dog chasing you.’”

“She lied?” Twigpaw sounded horrified.

“Not exactly. She only said that she’d thought she’d seen a dog chasing me. And there was a dog barking nearby. I could have been chased. Your mother was smart. Her story distracted Billystorm long enough for her to race back and fetch her rabbit and get back to camp before him.”

Twigpaw whisked her tail happily. “Was Billystorm impressed?”

“Yes. He let her pick the first prey from the pile that night.” Hawkwing’s eyes shone affectionately. “And when he found out she’d used me as a decoy, he said it was quick thinking and a sign of a good warrior. Pebbleshine purred about it for days.”

Violetpaw glanced back at him. Talking about Pebbleshine seemed to have made him happy, even though she was dead. Was that how it was when you lost someone you loved? Her thoughts drifted to Needletail. Even thinking of her friend made Violetpaw’s chest tighten with grief. I could never talk about Needletail happily. Not after what happened.

She carried on walking, her paws suddenly heavy.

A pelt brushed her side. Hawkwing fell in beside her. “I hope you don’t mind me talking about Pebbleshine,” he meowed softly. “I know you must miss her.”

“I don’t really remember her.” Violetpaw guiltily avoided his gaze.

“You were very young when you lost her.” His mew was soft.

“Don’t you find it hard to talk about her?” Violetpaw asked.

“I like to remember her,” Hawkwing meowed. “And it’s easier now that I have found you both.” He looked back at Twigpaw, raising his voice. “She was the kindest, sweetest cat I’ve ever known, and I miss her every day. But missing her doesn’t have to feel so sad anymore because I have part of her with me.”

“Do we remind you of her?” Twigpaw called from behind.

Violetpaw felt a rush of irritation. Couldn’t Twigpaw ever let a moment pass in silence without filling it with questions?

Hawkwing stopped and looked at Twigpaw. “You remind me of her very much,” he meowed fondly.

Twigpaw puffed out her chest happily.

“Thank you for finding SkyClan. It’s the sort of thing your mother would have done. She was brave and adventurous too.”

Violetpaw swallowed back jealousy. Aren’t I brave and adventurous?

Hawkwing touched his nose to Violetpaw’s ear. “You’re more like me,” he purred. “Your mother would have loved you both very much, just as I do.”

Violetpaw held his gaze, saying nothing. The grief in her heart seemed to melt into warmth. Purring, she rubbed her muzzle along Hawkwing’s jaw, and then Twigpaw’s. She suddenly was happier than she could have ever imagined possible.

For the first time in her life, Violetpaw felt like she belonged.