Shattered Sky

Violetpaw shifted uncomfortably in her nest, listening to Needletail as she whimpered and twitched in a bad dream. Gently, she drew her tail across her friend’s shoulders, hoping she wouldn’t disturb Zelda, who was curled up in a deep sleep at the far side of the den.

“Hush,” she whispered to Needletail. “It’ll be okay.”

But is that true? Violetpaw asked herself.

Over the last few days, ever since the kittypets had come to join the Kin, things had only gotten worse. Darktail had coerced Max, Loki, and Zelda to stay even longer than the day or two they had first agreed to, telling them that they had pledged their loyalty—and that if they left now, they could never come back.

I don’t like the way they’re being treated, Violetpaw thought, but what can I do?

Needletail let out another whimper, and once again Violetpaw stroked her shoulder with the tip of her tail. She guessed that Needletail was dreaming about Rain; she did that almost every night, calling out his name in her sleep.

Or maybe she’s having a nightmare about what’s going to happen in the morning. Violetpaw shivered. But I’m not going to let myself think about that.

Unable to sleep, Violetpaw gazed up at the stars, reflecting how Needletail had changed in the last few days. Rain’s death had broken something within her. To other cats Needletail would always insist that Rain was a traitor, and that Darktail had only done what a good leader had to do. “Rain was not the cat I thought he was,” she had meowed more than once.

But Violetpaw knew that Needletail’s feelings were more complicated than that. Before Rain’s death, even when things got tough, she would always have a joke or a cheerful remark for Violetpaw. Now her carefree spirit had vanished, leaving something darker and heavier in its place. It was Violetpaw’s turn to take care of her.

And I do it gladly, Violetpaw thought, giving her sleeping friend’s ear a lick. But it’s weird and scary, like I’m her mentor or something.

Another yelp came from Needletail, who thrashed her tail to and fro in the throes of her nightmare. Violetpaw cuddled closer to her friend, but it didn’t seem to help.

Eventually weariness began to overcome Violetpaw. She closed her eyes and was beginning to drift into a restless, dreamless sleep when she felt a paw prodding her in the side.

Confused, Violetpaw struggled back to wakefulness. “Needletail… ,” she muttered.

But when her eyes were fully open, it was Dawnpelt—her former mentor in ShadowClan—who she saw. The she-cat’s head and shoulders were thrust through the bushes at the entrance to the den, her pale fur glimmering in the starlight.

“What…?” Violetpaw began.

Dawnpelt raised a paw for silence. “I had to come and tell you,” she whispered. “I’m leaving.”

Surprised, Violetpaw half sat up; disturbed by her movement, Needletail seemed to rouse for a heartbeat, then fell back into her uneasy sleep.

“I realize now that staying with Darktail and his Kin was a mistake,” Dawnpelt went on rapidly. “They’re bad cats! So I’m doing what I should have done in the first place: I’m going to ThunderClan to be with Rowanstar and Tawnypelt, and I’m leaving now so that Darktail won’t know that I’ve gone until it’s too late.”

At first Violetpaw was amazed, though she soon realized she had no reason to be. In the last few days, Birchbark, Lioneye, and Mistcloud had all left the Kin. What had surprised her then was that Darktail had let them go, even offering to escort them off the territory.

“Kinship goes both ways,” he had meowed solemnly. “I don’t want cats here who will not be loyal.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Violetpaw asked.

“I want you to come with me,” Dawnpelt replied. “I already sent Juniperclaw and Strikestone on ahead, and we can sneak away tonight, without Darktail seeing.”

“Why?” Violetpaw was puzzled. “Darktail took it really well when Lioneye and the others left.”

Dawnpelt looked uneasy, scrabbling with her forepaws among the bracken at the edge of the den. “I just don’t trust him,” she confessed.

Violetpaw could understand that. “What about Sleekwhisker?” she asked.

Dawnpelt’s expression darkened. “Sleekwhisker would never want to leave,” she replied. “I haven’t even told her.”

Violetpaw looked down at the sleeping Needletail, who had curled her tail around Violetpaw’s hindquarters as if she was making sure to keep her close.

Would she ever come with me to ThunderClan? Violetpaw asked herself. Then she shook her head. No, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t.