Long Shadows

Dustpelt explained, while Lionblaze and Graystripe carried the dead warrior into the middle of the clearing. The moonlight shone silver on his drenched gray fur; Lionblaze thought he looked strangely small in death. It was hard to imagine the power he had held in his paws, the power to drag down his Clan and bring shame on Squirrelflight and the kits who had believed they were hers.

Lionblaze flinched at the sound of a distraught wail behind him. Whitewing had emerged from the warriors’ den, followed by Birchfall. “Did a fox get him?” she cried.

Lionblaze shook his head. “We found him in the stream on the WindClan border. It looks as if he drowned.”

Whitewing shuddered. “That’s dreadful.”

Birchfall pressed his muzzle against hers. “You mustn’t upset yourself,” he murmured. “Think of the kits.”

Whitewing nodded. Slowly she padded up to Ashfur’s body and settled down beside it, her nose pushed into the cold, wet fur. Birchfall crouched protectively at her side, to keep vigil along with her. “He was a good mentor,” he mewed sorrowfully. “I’ll miss him.”

By now other warriors were coming out of their den, forming a ragged circle around Ashfur and questioning one another in hushed, shocked voices.

“WindClan will be at the bottom of this, mark my words,” Mousefur meowed as she padded up with Longtail.

“On the night of a Gathering, too.” Honeyfern’s voice shook. “StarClan will be angry.”

“Firestar doesn’t think any cat is to blame,” Graystripe told them. “Ashfur was just very unlucky.”

Mousefur snorted with disbelief as she bent her stiff joints to crouch beside Ashfur’s body. Lionblaze lifted his head to gaze up at the moon as it f loated above the treetops. The clouds had cleared away; perhaps Firestar was right, and there was no need for StarClan to show their anger.

Sighing, he crouched down in his turn and pushed his nose into his former mentor’s fur. There was nothing to scent there but mud and water. Closing his eyes, he hoped that none of his Clanmates could sense that instead of grieving, his mind was numb with relief.

Lionblaze stayed beside Ashfur until the sky began to grow pale with the first hints of dawn. Other cats came and went around him, mewing in hushed voices.

At last Lionblaze heard the sound of movement in the thorn tunnel as Firestar and the rest of the Clan began to return from the Gathering. He stretched his cramped muscles and looked around to see Hollyleaf bounding toward him. Her eyes shone with a fierce light.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened at the Gathering!” she hissed. “Firestar didn’t say a single thing about Ashfur.”

Lionblaze’s pelt prickled with surprise. “He didn’t?”

“Not a thing.”

One or two cats gave Hollyleaf a curious glance as she passed; Lionblaze touched her mouth with his tail to warn her to be quiet, and drew her a pace or two away from Ashfur’s body.

“He just passed on trivial bits of news about prey,” Hollyleaf went on in a furious whisper. “And he thanked our warrior ancestors for watching over us. And that was all.”

“Well… maybe he didn’t want ThunderClan to sound weak,” Lionblaze suggested.

“We’re not weak because one cat dies!” Hollyleaf spat.

Lionblaze couldn’t work out why she was so angry. “Every Clan leader reports stuff like that. It’s part of what Gatherings are for.”

“And none of the other cats noticed that something was wrong?”

Hollyleaf shook her head. “Obviously Squirrelflight isn’t the only cat who’s good at lying.”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making out. Firestar must have had his reasons. And clouds didn’t cover the moon, so StarClan can’t have been angry with him.”

Hollyleaf’s only reply was a disgusted snort.

Lionblaze pressed his muzzle against hers. “Come on. Let’s sit vigil with Ashfur for a bit.”

His sister’s eyes stretched wide. “Sit vigil for that mange-ridden excuse for a cat? I can’t believe you want to do that!

Ashfur would have destroyed the whole Clan if he’d lived for one more night.”

Without waiting for a reply, she whirled around and stalked toward the warriors’ den. Lionblaze watched her go, hoping she would sleep off whatever was troubling her so much, then padded back to Ashfur’s body and settled down beside it.

Chapter 28

Jayfeather followed Leafpool back into the camp. A dawn breeze whispered across the clearing, and he could hear the beginnings of birdsong in the trees above the hollow. A hush lay over the camp; Jayfeather could detect mingled feelings of grief and bewilderment as the cats tried to adjust to the fact that Ashfur was dead.

He followed Leafpool as she padded into the center of the clearing where Ashfur’s body lay. Jayfeather picked up the chill, watery scent that still clung to his fur, and the scents of Lionblaze, Birchfall, Whitewing, and Thornclaw, who still kept vigil beside him.

“He feels so cold and wet,” Leafpool murmured, crouching beside Ashfur. “This isn’t how we should send him to his warrior ancestors.”