Darkest Night

Sandynose growled beside her. “I see I was right to tell you to stay away from Finpaw.”

Twigpaw flinched as he stalked away. Now he had reason to distrust her. She wished that Hawkwing and Violetpaw were with her. At least she’d have the support of kin. She knew that Tinycloud was Pebbleshine’s mother, but she was busy with her new kits now. Her pelt tingled uneasily. Hawkwing and Violetpaw had been spending so much time together on their journey—now they would share all kinds of private jokes and stories that Twigpaw wouldn’t understand. What if she felt even more isolated with them here?

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. She shook out her pelt. She was behaving like a kit. You made a decision. Now live with it. You were born a SkyClan cat. This is the Clan you’re supposed to be with.

And yet a small voice sounded at the back of her mind. She’d been happy in ThunderClan. She knew their stories. She’d hunted at their side. It had felt easy to be around them. Here she had to work to feel like she belonged.

Twigpaw watched as Sandynose talked in hushed mews with Leafstar. Tinycloud shooed her kits back into the nursery. Dewpaw and Sagenose busily laid bracken fronds over the fresh-kill pile.

Macgyver would be waiting for his mouse bile. She headed for Leafpool’s den. How strange that Dovewing had gone missing. Something told her that the ThunderClan warrior had been planning to leave. Twigpaw had heard it in the way she’d talked with Tigerheart. Dovewing had seemed at ease with the ShadowClan warrior. As though she were at home just being with him. And, for a moment, Twigpaw envied her.

CHAPTER 17

Alderheart unrolled a bundle of catmint.

Jayfeather’s nose twitched. “It’s starting to rot.”

Alderheart examined the leaves. They were dark at the edges where they had begun to wilt. “Perhaps the rain will stop today.”

“You said that yesterday.” Jayfeather pulled a roll of comfrey from the herb store. Its pungent smell filled the medicine den.

Alderheart frowned. “Dried herbs shouldn’t smell that strong.”

“They’re not dry,” Jayfeather grunted. “Nothing in the whole forest is dry anymore.”

Briarlight shifted in her nest. “Surely the rain must stop soon?”

“I hope so.” Alderheart padded anxiously to the den entrance. Outside, the rain pounded the camp. A large puddle had swallowed the clearing, and ThunderClan had begun piling mud and sticks outside their dens, hoping to keep the water from seeping inside if the puddle grew larger.

His Clanmates hid in their dens. Only Graystripe was outside, wading through the puddle to sniff at the drenched fresh-kill pile. His thick fur was plastered to his body. He glanced at Alderheart and lifted his tail halfheartedly. “Nice weather—if you’re a duck.”

“I guess.” Alderheart blinked at him anxiously as the old tom lifted a dripping mouse from the pile and trudged back to the elders’ den.

Bramblestar and Squirrelflight were out, hunting with Brightheart, Sparkpelt, and Berrynose. Prey was hard to sniff out in this weather, and he wondered how much they’d bring back.

He saw the thorn barrier quiver as Ivypool led Thornclaw, Lionblaze, and Fernsong into camp. Alderheart ducked from the medicine den and splashed through the puddle to greet them. “Did you find any sign of Dovewing?”

Ivypool blinked at him, rain streaming around her face. “Nothing,” she meowed heavily. “Rowanstar and Leafstar say that no one has seen or smelled her.”

“Her scent would be hard to pick up in weather like this.” Alderheart looked up at the sky. The dark sky must not herald a storm. Was this the beginning of the storm StarClan had warned them about? Was Dovewing’s disappearance something to do with it?

Lionblaze interrupted his thoughts. “Twigpaw told us she saw Dovewing talking with Tigerheart on SkyClan land.”

“When?” Worry pricked Alderheart’s belly. Was Tigerheart the reason Dovewing had left?

“A quarter moon ago,” Ivypool mewed.

Thornclaw and Lionblaze exchanged glances.

Ivypool frowned. “We have to find her before she does anything stupid.”

No one responded. Instead, Thornclaw turned his muzzle toward the nursery. “I’m going to see if Blossomfall and the kits are warm enough.” The warrior headed toward the thick bramble bush and disappeared inside. Lionblaze padded to the warriors’ den.

Ivypool looked anxiously at Fernsong. “Do they think she’s a traitor?”

Fernsong touched his muzzle to Ivypool’s cheek. “Dovewing could never be a traitor. Lionblaze knows that more than anyone. She helped him fight the Dark Forest, remember?”

Ivypool’s eyes clouded. “I just hope she’s safe.”

As she spoke, pebbles clattered down from the top of the cliff and showered Highledge.