Night Whispers

Millie’s pelt sparked with anger. “But they lost the battle.”

Jayfeather recognized the slow, solid step of Purdy as the loner padded from the elders’ den. “Are you sure they know they lost?”

“Well, of course they do!” Mousefur jostled past her denmate. “Lionblaze killed their deputy.”

No cat spoke, but paws shifted and tails brushed the earth until Firestar stepped forward. “We regret the loss of Russetfur,” he meowed heavily.

Where’s Lionblaze? Jayfeather’s paws pricked. He should be here to defend himself.

“Lionblaze should have been more careful,” Brambleclaw muttered.

Jayfeather swallowed back his rage. Lionblaze must face the charge himself. If Jayfeather answered for him, it would look as though Lionblaze were hiding from what he’d done. He heard fur snagging on thorns as the barrier moved.

Ivypaw.

She slipped into camp and wove among her Clanmates. “What’s going on?”

Jayfeather’s pelt grew cold. Light pierced his blind blue eyes, and he could suddenly see Ivypaw, clear as in a dream, her silver pelt bright against the frost-whitened clearing. Foreboding gripped his heart as the vision unfolded. Shadows slid over the top of the hollow, engulfing the dens, swallowing ThunderClan’s warriors. Dark Forest cats swarmed down the cliffs, slithering like lizards over the stone. Their eyes shone red, and their teeth and claws glinted like crystal, flashing in the shadows as they crowded the hollow.

With a roar of fury, ThunderClan rose to meet them. Graystripe slashed at a brown-pelted tom, who lunged for his throat and flung the gray warrior flailing to his death. Millie screeched and fell on her mate’s murderer, but two warriors ripped the fur from her back and dragged her wailing into the darkness.

ThunderClan was outnumbered and overwhelmed.

Birchfall, shrieking in agony and rage, was slaughtered by merciless claws. Dustpelt sank, his throat ripped by savage fangs. One by one, ThunderClan’s warriors fell until the clearing was heaped with bodies. Blood spilled from their mouths, pooled on the ground, and spread a grim shadow over the earth. It oozed from the dens, flooded from the walls of the hollow, and dripped from the thorns of the nursery until the whole camp shone crimson.

Only Ivypaw remained unstained.

Dark Forest warriors swirled around her, triumph lighting their eyes. Ivypaw stood as still as stone, pooled in moonlight, unhurt, unafraid. Jayfeather’s heart seemed to stop as she raised her muzzle and stared directly at him, her eyes black as night, her gaze blank.

A hiss of horror sounded beside Jayfeather, and he turned, fur on end.

Spottedleaf crouched beside him, her expression dark with despair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I couldn’t change anything.”

Chapter 6

Flametail’s paws slid over the frozen pine needles as he raced for camp. He unsheathed his claws to get a better grip and thought again of Lionblaze. Puffing out his chest as though StarClan likes him best. Typical ThunderClan.

A blackbird shrilled from high in the pines as Toadfoot sprang into Flametail’s path.

Flametail skidded to a halt. “Watch out!”

“Just checking your reflexes,” Toadfoot teased, hopping out of the way.

“Check this!” Flametail lunged and rolled his Clanmate to the ground.

Toadfoot struggled free and leaped to his paws, purring. “I bet none of the other Clans have a medicine cat who fights like a warrior.” He shook out his dark brown fur. “Where’ve you been?”

“At the new border.”

Toadfoot snorted. “Have they marked it yet?”

“Brambleclaw was setting a scent line when I left.”

“ThunderClan cats have smaller brains than I thought if they believe we’re going to let them keep that land.”

Flametail snorted in agreement. “They must know the battle isn’t over yet.”

Fur brushed the ground nearby. Flametail jerked his head around, wrinkling his nose as he smelled death.

Toadfoot followed his gaze. “They’re burying Russetfur.”

“Let’s join them.”

Flametail led the way to where Rowanclaw and Rat-scar were dragging the old ShadowClan deputy’s stiff body through the sun-striped pines. Rowanclaw was Flametail’s father, made deputy only last night.

Pelts flashed among the pines as the Clan filed from the camp to gather around the grave.

“We will miss her wisdom.” Tallpoppy’s eyes glistened as she took her place alongside the other elders. Cedarheart and Whitewater shuffled to make room for her.

Snaketail held his gray-flecked chin high as Russetfur was dragged toward her resting place. “Many hard-won skills and memories have died with our Clanmate,” he rasped.

Ratscar and Rowanclaw halted at the grave’s edge and laid Russetfur beside it. Flametail could smell the pine sap he’d rubbed over her pelt as he’d helped Littlecloud prepare the old ShadowClan deputy for vigil.

“A hard farewell,” Owlclaw murmured.

Shrewfoot leaned against her denmate. “Was there ever an easy one?”