Darkest Night

Poppyfrost and Cherryfall were herding Millie and Graystripe through the thorn tunnel. Lionblaze waited there, herbs dangling from his jaws, his gaze scanning the clearing. Alderheart and Snowbush were the last cats left. Lionblaze beckoned them, his eyes glittering urgently. Alderheart saw him glance at the cliff top, terror swamping his gaze. He slowed and turned, looking up.

A massive piece of stone was breaking away from the cliff face. It seemed to slip like ice and drop toward the clearing. Soil, bushes, and stones showered around it. Time seemed to slow as Alderheart watched. Then he felt Snowbush’s muzzle shove him from behind. Lionblaze hooked Alderheart’s scruff with an outstretched paw and dragged him forward as the stone hit the clearing, splitting the air with a roar as it shattered into countless pieces.

The rush of air knocked Alderheart into Lionblaze. He dropped his herbs as he landed and waited for the blast of stone against his pelt. Earth showered around him. A wave of muddy water engulfed him. Then the camp fell silent except for the steady pounding of the rain.

Alderheart lifted his head.

Lionblaze groaned beside him and heaved himself to his paws. “Are you hurt?”

Alderheart moved, surprised to feel no pain. He pushed himself up shakily. “Snowbush.” His mew was thick with mud. He spat it out and glanced back.

A white scrap of fur lay beside the heap of mud and rubble.

Lionblaze raced toward it. “Snowbush!”

Alderheart scrambled to Lionblaze’s side. “Is he breathing?” He pushed past the golden tom and pressed his ear to Snowbush’s mouth. There was no sound. “Quick!” Alderheart jerked his nose to the rubble, which buried Snowbush’s hindquarters. “Pull him clear.”

Lionblaze thrust his muzzle beneath Snowbush’s lolling head and grabbed his scruff. With a grunt, he heaved him clear of the debris and laid him at the edge of the clearing.

Alderheart rolled the white warrior onto his back and thumped his paws against his chest. Pressing them against his ribs, he pushed down and released, then pushed down again. I have to get him breathing again. “Fetch help,” he told Lionblaze.

Lionblaze stared blankly.

“Hurry!” Alderheart growled.

Lionblaze turned and raced from the camp.

Alderheart pushed harder against Snowbush’s chest. Feeling his way down, he pushed his paws beneath Snowbush’s ribs and pushed again, grunting with the effort.

Snowbush jerked and spewed up muddy water.

Hope flashed in Alderheart’s belly. He ran his paws over the tom’s mud-smeared pelt, feeling for broken bones. He stiffened as he ran his pads down his hind leg. A bump betrayed a jagged crack in the bone.

Snowbush opened his eyes blearily, blinking against the rain that soaked his face.

“You’re safe,” Alderheart told him. “But your hind leg is broken. Lionblaze has gone to fetch help.”

As he spoke, Lionblaze raced back through the entrance. Molewhisker, Birchfall, and Larksong followed, Lilyheart behind them. Her eyes sparked with anguish when she saw Snowbush. She slid past her Clanmates and crouched beside her mate. He seemed small, his fur slicked by rain and mud, his eyes glittering with pain.

“He’s okay,” Alderheart told her. He wished Jayfeather were here. “His leg is broken, but that’s all.” He knew he wasn’t telling her the whole truth: that for a moment Snowbush had stopped breathing, and that there might be worse damage beneath his pelt than a broken bone.

“Let’s get him away from here.” Lilyheart looked fearfully at the cliff top.

“Be gentle,” Alderheart cautioned as Lionblaze and Birchfall crouched on either side of their injured Clanmate.

“I can walk.” Snowbush rolled over and heaved himself to his paws, letting out a low groan. Lionblaze and Birchfall pressed against either side of him, lifting him as he limped weakly toward the camp entrance, holding his broken leg clear of the ground. Molewhisker and Lilyheart followed, keeping close.

Larksong glanced around the camp, his eyes wide with disbelief. Alderheart followed his gaze numbly. Highledge was hidden beneath a pile of dirt and stone. Rubble covered the clearing and reached to the edges of the camp. Mud and twigs plastered every den. Plants and bushes, dragged down by the mudslide, stuck out like wounded limbs from the debris. Stones blocked the entrance to the medicine den.

Alderheart looked at the storm-black clouds and let the rain wash the mud from his face. “Will it ever stop?” he murmured.

Larksong looked at him hopefully. “Maybe this was the storm StarClan promised. Maybe it’s over now.”

“Perhaps,” Alderheart breathed. Or perhaps it’s only just begun.

CHAPTER 18

Violetpaw squinted as sunshine sliced through the evening air, its weak rays warming her damp pelt. Lifting her face, she closed her eyes and relished the brightness. The clouds were clearing at last.