Darkest Night

Weak with relief, Alderheart scanned her flank. Blood was welling around her hind leg.

She heaved herself to her paws and gingerly touched her injured hind leg to the ground. “Nothing broken,” she breathed.

“That bite will need treating,” Alderheart mewed anxiously.

Sparkpelt shooed him forward with a flick of her tail. “It’s bad enough you had to chase the dog off. I’m supposed to be the warrior. Don’t rub nettles into the wound.”

He glanced at her teasingly. “I was going to use oak leaf. It’s better for infections.”

“Smart-ears.” Purring, Sparkpelt limped toward the ThunderClan border.

Alderheart hurried after her. Pride washed his pelt. As he lifted his muzzle happily, the skies opened and rain began to pound the canopy.

CHAPTER 15

“You don’t need to climb up with us, Violetpaw.” Hawkwing craned his neck and looked into the branches of the oak. He narrowed his eyes against the rain, which dripped through the branches.

Violetpaw puffed out her chest, hoping to look braver than she felt. “I want to.” It was her plan. She was asking Frecklewish to take a big risk. She had to be there to help.

The rain had started before dawn. It had lashed the gorge so fiercely that the stream had risen by the time the sun climbed above the trees. As water began to wash over the banks, the cats left their camp in the small hollow and moved to higher ground. Before long, they watched their nests get carried away by the flood.

“There’s nothing left for us here.” Fidgetpaw had been the first to say the words. “Let’s fetch Frecklewish and leave.”

Nettlesplash had argued. How could Frecklewish escape in weather like this? But Mintfur had pointed out that, with their camp washed away, they had no home left. And who knew when the rain would stop. Finally Nettlesplash had agreed. It was time to head for SkyClan’s new home.

Now, below the oak, Violetpaw shook out her sodden pelt, hoping Hawkwing would think her fur was spiked because of the rain. She didn’t want him to see her fear. What if Frecklewish didn’t make the jump to the woven ledge? What if she fell?

She peered at the towering Twoleg hive. Rainwater streamed down its smooth walls and ran in rivers across the stone that surrounded it.

Nettlesplash circled the thick trunk of the oak. “It’s an easy climb to the top,” he meowed.

Rabbitleap and Blossomheart looked up, clearly unconvinced. “I’m glad I’m keeping my paws on the ground,” Rabbitleap growled.

Gravelpaw lifted his forepaws and pressed them against the gnarled bark. “Can I come?”

“You’re staying down here,” Mintfur told the young tom. Her gaze swept over Palepaw, Fringepaw, and Nectarpaw. “All four of you.”

“But Violetpaw is going,” Palepaw objected.

“It was her plan.” Hawkwing inspected the trunk.

Violetpaw looked down self-consciously. Gravelpaw and the other apprentices would be her denmates soon. She didn’t want to annoy them. “I guess I could stay down here with you,” she murmured.

“No!” Nectarpaw splashed over the wet earth and stopped in front of her. “You’ve got to go. We don’t mind staying here.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gravelpaw huffed.

“Just be careful,” Nectarpaw mewed. “And ignore Gravelpaw. He thinks he’s already a warrior.”

Violetpaw looked at the tan tom. “I promise to tell you everything when I get down,” she offered.

“If you get down,” Gravelpaw sniffed.

Palepaw nudged her brother. “She won’t get stuck up there like you did last half-moon.”

“I wasn’t stuck.” Gravelpaw flicked his tail crossly. “I was hunting owls.”

“Then why did Mintfur have to climb up and fetch you?”

Nettlesplash circled the tree again, frowning. “Stop bickering. This is serious.” He reached his front paws up the trunk and then, gracefully, bounded up to the first branch.

“Good luck.” Rabbitleap brushed his tail along Violetpaw’s spine. “Dig your claws in deep.”

“I’ll look after her,” Hawkwing promised, and scrambled after Nettlesplash.

Violetpaw’s heart quickened. Breathing fast, she watched Mintfur and Fidgetpaw follow him. Hooking her claws into the soaked bark, she hauled herself up.

Splinters of bark peeled away as she climbed and showered onto the cats below as she followed the warriors higher into the tree. Nettlesplash seemed to know the route; he moved swiftly from branch to branch, tracing a path that took them past ledge after ledge of the Twoleg camp. The tree had already lost half its leaves, and the other half were brown. They fluttered around Violetpaw’s face as she wove around the trunk, following Hawkwing and the others higher into the branches.

Rain drenched her pelt and streamed from her whiskers. She didn’t dare look down, scared of losing her balance. She glanced instead at the wide slab outside Frecklewish’s Twoleg nest. The stone shone with rainwater. The top of the encircling wall was slick. Violetpaw glanced at the woven ledges nearby and saw that the narrow fences that edged them were dripping with rain. How would Frecklewish grip them?