River Of Fire

CHAPTER 17

Violetshine slid through the fern tunnel into the SkyClan camp, a couple of mice dangling from her jaws. Rowanclaw and Macgyver followed her, both of them laden with their own prey. The hunting had been good.

The camp was almost deserted: this was the day it was SkyClan’s turn to go and help RiverClan restore their camp after the fire. The only cat Violetshine could see was Yarrowleaf, curled up asleep on a sunlit rock not far from the nursery.

Something about that looks odd, Violetshine thought as she padded across the camp to deposit her prey on the fresh-kill pile. A moment later, she realized what it was.

Where are Yarrowleaf’s kits?

Uneasiness stirred in Violetshine’s belly. She poked her head inside the nursery to check if the kits were there. Tinycloud and Snowbird were both drowsing in furry heaps with their own kits, but there was no sign of Hopkit or Flaxkit.

Violetshine withdrew again and glanced around, but she still couldn’t see the kits anywhere outside. Oh, StarClan, don’t let them have wandered off!

Rapidly, Violetshine bounded across the camp, leaped the small stream, and jumped up onto the rock where Yarrowleaf was sleeping. She gave the ginger she-cat a sharp prod in the side.

“Yarrowleaf—”

Violetshine broke off. Lying on the rock beside Yarrowleaf was a half-eaten mouse. Tiny black spots were clearly visible in the torn flesh.

Poppy seeds! Violetshine suppressed a shudder. Once, she had tried to drug Darktail and his Kin with poppy seeds, but she had been unaware that Sleekwhisker had watched her do it. Violetshine’s failure had almost led to her death.

And Needletail was killed because of it. . . .

For a few heartbeats Violetshine stood frozen, staring at the seeds. Who could have given the drugged prey to Yarrowleaf? Sleekwhisker and she were often together, but now the yellow she-cat was nowhere in sight. Could she have gotten the idea from Violetshine’s failed attempt to drug Darktail? Violetshine remembered the time she had seen Sleekwhisker heading away from the camp on the day of the storm.

She’s up to something . . . but what? I should have remembered to report her to Leafstar!

Cold fear drenched Violetshine, and she prodded Yarrowleaf again until the she-cat raised her head and gazed at Violetshine with bleary eyes. “What’s the matter?” she asked, her voice slurring.

“Yarrowleaf, where are your kits?” Violetshine demanded urgently.

Yarrowleaf sat up and looked around. Then her eyes suddenly widened with alarm, and she seemed to throw off the worst of the drug.

“My kits!” she yowled in a panic. “Where are my kits?” She sprang to her paws, staggering a little as she spun around, trying to locate the kits. “Hopkit! Flaxkit!”

“Yarrowleaf, listen!” Violetshine meowed. “Was Sleekwhisker here?”

“Yes, we were watching the kits play.” Yarrowleaf looked confused.

“And she brought you this mouse?”

Yarrowleaf nodded. “Are you saying Sleekwhisker took my kits?” she asked. “She would never do that. She’s my friend.”

“Are you sure of that?” Violetshine asked. “Remember how loyal Sleekwhisker was to Darktail? Is it possible she’s working with the remains of his Kin to take revenge on ShadowClan?”

I never trusted Sleekwhisker. She helped kill Needletail. Has she been lying to us all this time?

Yarrowleaf stared at her, dazed, until the horrible idea began to sink in. “Oh, StarClan!” she wailed. “Sleekwhisker has my kits! Where is she taking them?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out,” Violetshine mewed grimly. Glancing around, she spotted Rowanclaw and Macgyver, who were sharing a squirrel beside the fresh-kill pile, and beckoned them over with a whisk of her tail.

“What’s going on?” Rowanclaw asked. “Why is Yarrowleaf so upset?”

Violetshine explained how Yarrowleaf had been put to sleep with poppy seeds, and how Sleekwhisker and the kits were missing. “We have to find them,” she finished.

“We will,” Rowanclaw meowed. “We’ll follow their scent trail.”

He led the way out of camp, with Violetshine and Macgyver just behind him. Yarrowleaf came too, still a bit unsteady on her paws, but determined to keep going until her kits were safe again.

Violetshine was first to pick up Sleekwhisker’s scent, heading off in the direction of the old ShadowClan camp. The kits’ scent was there, too.

“That proves she took them,” Rowanclaw meowed as they began to follow. “She must have told them some sort of story to make them go with her.”

“They were both eager to get out into the forest,” Yarrowleaf responded. “If Sleekwhisker suggested going, they’d think it was okay. Oh, StarClan,” she continued, “I hope she doesn’t hurt them!”

“She hasn’t yet,” Violetshine comforted her. “There’s no fear-scent at all.” And no blood, or tiny limp bodies, she added to herself. Why did we ever trust Sleekwhisker? She was one of the worst of Darktail’s Kin! I should have known!

After a little while the trail veered away from the direct route to ShadowClan, heading toward the Twolegplace where Loki and Zelda lived.

They can’t be going there, Violetshine thought. They won’t want to mess with Twolegs, and anyway, it’s too far for the kits.

Then Macgyver, who had been padding along to the side of the scent trail, suddenly halted. “I can smell other cats!” he announced.

Violetshine bounded across to him, and picked up the new scent trail he had discovered. “You’re right,” she mewed. “There are two . . . no, three cats. I don’t recognize two of them, but the third . . . oh, Rowanclaw, it’s Tawnypelt!”

“What?” Rowanclaw hurried to join Violetshine and Macgyver, worry and confusion in his eyes. “You’re right,” he muttered, beginning to follow the new trail with his nose close to the forest floor.

The trail joined up with Sleekwhisker’s trail a few fox-lengths ahead. From there all the cats went on together.

“Tawnypelt!” Yarrowleaf spat, pure hatred in her eyes. “She never wanted to let us back into the Clan.”

“No,” Rowanclaw meowed hoarsely. “I don’t believe it. Whatever she thought about you and Sleekwhisker, she would never hurt kits.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t,” Violetshine agreed. “Tawnypelt is an honorable warrior. She would never do anything against the warrior code.” So what is she doing here?

Violetshine wished desperately that Tree were with them, but he had gone with Leafstar to RiverClan, in case any trouble arose between the two Clans. He would know what to do now, she thought miserably.

“You know,” Rowanclaw went on when they had followed the trail for several more fox-lengths, “I feel I ought to know the scent of these two other cats, but I just can’t place it.”

“They’re not two of Darktail’s rogues, are they?” Macgyver asked. “I heard they weren’t all killed.”

Violetshine took another deep sniff of the two scents, then shook her head. “No. I would know them,” she replied with a shudder, remembering the terrible time she had spent living with Darktail and his Kin.

She had noticed a tang of blood mingled with the scents, and hoped desperately it hadn’t come from the kits. It’s cat blood, not prey, she thought. Maybe these strange cats fought. Or maybe Tawnypelt . . .

Her pondering broke off as Rowanclaw suddenly halted, staring into the trees. “Now I get it!” he exclaimed.

“Get what?” Yarrowleaf asked.

“I get where we’re going. This is the way to the Twoleg nest in the old ShadowClan territory. And now I recognize those scents. They come from those two crow-food-eating kittypets!”

Macgyver looked puzzled. “Sleekwhisker is taking the kits to Twolegs?”

Yarrowleaf let out a wail, only for Rowanclaw to slap his tail over her mouth.

“Quiet, mouse-brain!” he hissed. “Do you want them to know we’re here?”

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t.” An amused voice came from somewhere overhead. “That would be a really bad idea.”

Violetshine looked up to see a huge black-and-white tom sprawled on the lowest branch of a pine tree. He had a torn ear and a fresh scratch over his nose, and powerful claws that dug into the tree bark.

“That’s a kittypet?” she breathed out.

“Didn’t your mother tell you about us?” the huge tom rasped, the amusement vanishing from his tone. “Behave yourself or the big fierce kittypets will get you?”

“Jacques! We’ve had trouble with Jacques and his friend, Susan, in the past,” Rowanclaw told Violetshine. “But I guess by the time you came to the forest we had enough to worry about with Darktail.”

“Have you got my kits?” Yarrowleaf asked tremulously. “Oh, please give them back!”

“No, I haven’t got your kits, flea-brain,” the tom sneered. “But I know where they are. Do you want me to show you?”

“Oh, please!” Yarrowleaf begged.

“Okay.” The black-and-white tom rose to his paws on the branch and arched his back in a good long stretch. “But lay one claw on me and you’ll never see your kits again.” He jumped down from the branch and landed with a soft thump at Rowanclaw’s side. Violetshine wrinkled her nose at his unfamiliar scent.

“This way,” the tom meowed, with a wave of his tail.

Violetshine and the other Clan cats followed him around a bramble thicket and along a path that wound through banks of ferns. At one point a gap in the undergrowth showed her a Twoleg den surrounded by a rough stone wall, and she remembered passing it a few times when she was on patrol.

But the huge tom wasn’t going to the den. He veered away, leading the Clan cats downward until he came to a rocky hollow overshadowed by gorse bushes. Water dripped slowly from a gap in the rocks, forming a tiny pool at the bottom of the hollow.

Beside the pool, Tawnypelt was crouched between two other cats. One was a light brown tabby Violetshine had never seen before; she assumed this must be the dreaded Susan. The second cat was all too familiar: Raven, the black she-cat of Darktail’s Kin, who had held Violetshine back when Darktail and Sleekwhisker had tried to drown Needletail in the lake.

On the other side of the pool Violetshine spotted Sleekwhisker with Nettle, another of Darktail’s rogues, who had mated with Yarrowleaf. Two tiny kits were huddled together beside them, looking up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“My kits!” Yarrowleaf gasped.

“Yarrowleaf!” Flaxkit wailed, springing up to run to her, only to be batted to the ground with a careless swipe of Nettle’s paw.

Yarrowleaf let out a screech and sprang down into the hollow, gathering the trembling kits close to her. Violetshine braced her muscles, ready for a fight to break out, but Nettle simply gave her a contemptuous glance.

“These are my kits,” he told Yarrowleaf. “They’re staying with me.”

Yarrowleaf glared at him, while Violetshine wondered how any she-cat could bear to mate with the obnoxious Nettle, let alone have kits with him.

The black-and-white kittypet strolled down into the hollow and sat beside his denmate, while Rowanclaw and the rest of the patrol remained at the top of the slope.

“Tawnypelt, what’s going on?” Rowanclaw demanded.

“I wish I knew,” Tawnypelt growled, her green eyes narrowing in a look of fury. “When Leafstar and the others left for RiverClan, Sleekwhisker asked me if I wanted to go hunting with her. But when we got out into the forest, she disappeared, and then these two bee-brains jumped me.” She flicked her tail at the kittypets. “At least I gave them something to remember me by.”

Violetshine had already noticed the fresh scratch on the black-and-white tom’s nose. Now she saw that the tabby kittypet was missing several clumps of fur down one side, and Tawnypelt had a trickle of drying blood on one shoulder.

Thank StarClan! Violetshine thought. Tawnypelt is a prisoner, not a traitor!

“I see.” There was the first hint of a growl in Rowanclaw’s voice. “And then I suppose Sleekwhisker doubled back to camp and took the kits. Very neat. But I still don’t see what you want with Tawnypelt.”

“Oh, she’s especially for you, Rowanclaw.” Sleekwhisker rose to her paws and faced her former leader, gazing up at him with triumph in her eyes. “You were a weak leader of ShadowClan. I was miserable growing up, and many cats I cared about died because you failed to deal with Darktail.”

Rowanclaw bowed his head. “All true,” he admitted. “But I have paid for it.”

“Not enough!” Sleekwhisker’s voice was savage. “Now I’m going to have my revenge, because I’ve taken the thing you love most—Tawnypelt!

Rowanclaw suddenly stiffened, flexing his claws into the leaf-mold on the forest floor. “You may have taken her, but you won’t keep her,” he snarled.

“No—I won’t keep her. I’m going to kill her,” Sleekwhisker meowed. “And you’re going to watch.”

“I’d like to see you try!” Tawnypelt spat at her.

“Oh, I’ll do more than try,” Sleekwhisker assured her. “Because if any other cat twitches a whisker, the kits will never see another sunrise.”

“No!” Yarrowleaf yowled.

She tried to gather her kits closer, but Nettle thrust her away and stood over the two shivering scraps, blocking them from any other cat.

“He’d kill his own kits?” Macgyver murmured, horror and disbelief in his voice. “I knew Darktail’s rogues were evil, but this is even worse than I imagined.”

For a moment Nettle stood silent; then Violetshine saw him turn his head slowly toward Rowanclaw.

“There is one thing you could do,” he told the former leader, his eyes gleaming with mockery. “We’ll accept your life in exchange for Tawnypelt’s . . . except that we know you’re too weak to sacrifice yourself for her.”

Rowanclaw drew himself up, quickly and firmly, and Violetshine held her breath in expectation of what he would do or say. But for a moment Rowanclaw didn’t respond.

Violetshine let her gaze travel over the cats in the hollow, wondering what would happen if it came to a fight. They were a match for the rogues in numbers, except that Yarrowleaf’s first duty would be to protect the kits. And all their opponents, even the kittypets, were formidable fighters.

And what can we do, if Nettle is prepared to kill the kits?

Then Violetshine heard a swift command from Rowanclaw, muttered from the side of his mouth. “Be ready.”

Heartened to think that her former leader had a plan, Violetshine tensed, ready to spring, though she tried not to give any outward sign that she might be a threat to the rogues in the hollow.

“Very well,” Rowanclaw meowed. “I will sacrifice myself, Nettle, provided that you release Tawnypelt and let Yarrowleaf take her kits.”

“Do you think I’m mouse-brained?” Nettle’s eyes were insolent. “Tawnypelt can go, but the kits are mine. Yarrowleaf will never see them again.”

“Nettle, I beg you,” Rowanclaw began, taking a pace or two down into the hollow. “I know I was a weak leader . . . I let Darktail and his Kin destroy my Clan, and I alone should bear their suffering. I deserve everything you can do to me.”

His head was drooping submissively and his tail trailed on the ground. He was the exact image of a weak and defeated cat. Violetshine could see the contempt and anticipation in Nettle’s and Sleekwhisker’s eyes.

“Grab the kits! Run!”

Rowanclaw’s yowl split the quiet air. At the same moment, he exploded upward in a massive leap that brought him down on top of Nettle, thrusting him away from the kits. Nettle let out a screech, and the two cats rolled across the hollow in a tight knot of slashing claws and teeth. Sleekwhisker dived in and attacked Rowanclaw from behind.

At the same moment Yarrowleaf snatched up Hopkit by the scruff, while Tawnypelt leaped across the pool to grab Flaxkit. Together the two she-cats raced up the side of the hollow and vanished into the undergrowth.

Raven and the tabby kittypet streaked in pursuit, but Violetshine sprang in front of them, with Macgyver at her side.

“This is for Needletail!” Violetshine hissed as she flung herself at Raven, digging her claws into the black she-cat’s shoulders. Raven’s paws skidded under her onslaught, and the two of them slid back down the slope. Violetshine’s breath was driven out of her as she landed hard on a rock that jutted out of the ground.

Raven’s eyes gleamed close to her own. “Darktail should have killed you when he had the chance,” she snarled.

In answer, Violetshine lashed out with one forepaw and felt her claws rake across Raven’s shoulder. The black she-cat let out a shriek of pain and jerked her head forward, her teeth snapping at Violetshine’s throat.

Violetshine thrust herself back, bringing up her hind paws to batter Raven in the belly. She felt a surge of triumph as her enemy scrabbled at the ground to get away. She was starting to rise to her paws to chase Raven off when something struck her hard from behind and a heavy weight landed on her, blotting out the light as she fell to the ground.

The huge tom’s voice spoke in her ear. “Get ready to die, flea-pelt!”

Violetshine squirmed helplessly under his weight. She had a mouthful of fur and couldn’t breathe. Sharp pain clawed through her hindquarters. Darkness welled up around her as if she were being whirled downward into a bottomless pool.

Suddenly the weight vanished. Gasping, spitting out fur, Violetshine tottered to her paws to see Tawnypelt fighting with the black-and-white kittypet.

She came back! Violetshine realized with relief.

The kittypet’s hulking body and powerful but random blows were no match for Tawnypelt’s swift battle skills. She darted in and landed blows on his muzzle and his shoulders, then jumped back out of range before he could retaliate. Within a few heartbeats he turned and fled in the direction of the nearby Twoleg den.

Violetshine drew deep, panting breaths as she gazed around. Macgyver was chasing off the tabby kittypet. Raven and Sleekwhisker were limping up the far side of the hollow, to disappear into the undergrowth.

“You’ve betrayed the Clans for the last time!” Violetshine yowled after them. “Don’t show your faces here again!”

At the bottom of the hollow Nettle lay dead, his body half in and half out of the pool, his blood slowly spreading into the water. And beside him . . .

Violetshine let out a choking sound. “Oh, no! Rowanclaw!”

The former leader lay stretched out close to Nettle’s body. He still lived, but blood was pulsing steadily from a gash in his throat. His eyes were glazed, and his chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.

Tawnypelt flashed past Violetshine and flung herself down beside her dying mate. “Rowanclaw . . . oh, Rowanclaw,” she whispered. “Stay with me!”

Rowanclaw blinked up at her. “No, this is for the best,” he murmured. “It was my fault that ShadowClan was destroyed. But don’t worry,” he added reassuringly, reaching out a paw to touch Tawnypelt’s shoulder. “Tigerheart will return. I’ve seen him in my dreams. . . .”

Violetshine wasn’t sure she could believe that, and she guessed that Tawnypelt didn’t, either.

“Good-bye, Tawnypelt,” Rowanclaw mewed. He let out one last breath and his body went limp. His eyes closed. The flow of blood from his throat slowed, then stopped.

“No . . .” Tawnypelt nuzzled his shoulder. “Rowanclaw, you had nine lives. You must come back.”

For a few moments Violetshine watched, hardly daring to breathe. Is it possible that StarClan refused to take back his lives? she asked herself. Could he have been Rowanstar all along?

But as the heartbeats passed and Rowanclaw didn’t move, Violetshine realized that the hope was vain. The former leader was truly dead.

“Come on,” Violetshine mewed gently, bending over to touch her nose to Tawnypelt’s head. “Let’s carry him back to camp for his vigil. He gave back his lives,” she added, struggling to keep her voice steady. “But he died like a Clan leader.”

Macgyver padded down the slope to join them and help them lift Rowanclaw’s body. “What do you think, Tawnypelt?” he asked. “Will you be able to lead ShadowClan now?”

Tawnypelt stared at him as if for a moment she didn’t understand the question. Then she shook her head. “Not after this,” she replied. “Not without Rowanclaw. ShadowClan is dead.”