Shattered Sky

“So, what’s the matter with you?” Alderheart repeated to Stormcloud. “Come on, spit it out.”

Stormcloud drew one gray tabby paw over his ear. “I can’t sleep,” he confessed. “And sometimes my chest feels so tight that I can barely take a breath.”

“Hmm… ,” Alderheart murmured. “Have you been upset about anything?”

The tabby tom’s ears flicked forward in surprise. “Sure. What isn’t there to be upset about?” he demanded. “The camp is so crowded, we’re treading on each other’s tails; Rowanstar and Bramblestar snap at each other every chance they get, and adding Mistystar to the mix has only made it worse. And every cat is terrified that Darktail and his rogues will come for us next.”

Alderheart nodded. Stormcloud spoke the truth. Bramblestar was sending out even more patrols, but no cats could agree on the best way of defending themselves. They’d sent more patrols to WindClan, but their borders were still closed, with Onestar refusing even to talk to the other Clans.

“I never had to put up with anything like this when I was a kittypet,” Stormcloud went on. “I joined ThunderClan because I believed in what the Clans stood for, but what if—”

He broke off, giving his chest fur a few self-conscious licks.

“What?” Alderheart asked.

Stormcloud shook his head. “Nothing.”

Alderheart was pretty sure he knew what the tabby tom had been about to say. What if there are no Clans soon? For the first time, Alderheart became aware that this was possible. If the rogues attack us and win, our whole way of life will just be… gone.

“You should practice taking slow, deep breaths,” he told Stormcloud, pushing his fears aside to concentrate on the immediate problem. “Try to relax as much as you can. I’ll give you some tansy; that should help.”

He padded back into the cleft to fetch tansy leaves from the herb store. While Stormcloud chewed them up, he added, “Tell Squirrelflight that I’ve excused you from patrols for today. You need to get some rest. Come and see me tonight, before you go to your nest, and I’ll give you a juniper berry.”

“Thanks, Alderheart.” Stormcloud swiped his tongue around his jaws. “I feel better already.”

“Let me know how it goes,” Alderheart meowed. “I’m sure everything will work out in the end.” I wish I really believed that, but I’m not sure I do.

When Stormcloud was gone, Alderheart went back into the cleft to tidy the store and take stock of which herbs were running low. But he had barely begun when he heard yowls and running paw steps coming from the camp. He started up, his pads prickling with apprehension and his fur beginning to bristle.

Is this the attack?

Racing past the bramble screen into the clearing, Alderheart saw cats emerging from the thorn tunnel and recognized Dovewing, Tigerheart, and Molewhisker. At first, relief flooded through him, his shoulder fur lying flat again, but as he ran eagerly toward them, his belly cramped with a different kind of fear. There was no sign of Twigpaw.

Dovewing bounded up to him, with Tigerheart just behind her, while Molewhisker headed toward the tumbled rocks, meowing, “I’ll fetch Bramblestar!” as he went.

“Just tell me,” Alderheart begged. “I can’t wait for Bramblestar. Is she dead?”

Dovewing’s green eyes were full of sorrow, which told Alderheart the news that he didn’t want to hear. “Bramblestar ought to hear this first,” she murmured.

“Please!” Alderheart raked the ground with his claws. “It’s like a fox is tearing me apart.”

Dovewing bent her head. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was so soft that Alderheart could scarcely hear her. “We think that Twigpaw is probably dead.”

As she spoke the words, Alderheart felt something break inside him, like a snapped branch in the frost of leaf-bare. For a moment he couldn’t speak; at last he forced out two words in a hoarse voice. “What happened?”

“We don’t know for sure,” Dovewing replied, her head drooping sadly. “But we found her blood and fur beside the Thunderpath, near the tunnel where she was born.”

“Are you sure it was her blood?” Alderheart asked, desperately trying to hold on to hope.

Tigerheart nodded. “The scent was faint, but it was Twigpaw’s. It looks like she died just as her mother did… hit by a monster.”

Alderheart’s legs felt like they were turning to water; he staggered and slumped to the ground. At the same moment, Molewhisker returned with Bramblestar, deep concern in the Clan leader’s face as he strode up to them.

Ivypool bounded over from the fresh-kill pile, and more cats began to gather around, all of them eager for the news.

But Alderheart could hardly bear to listen as Bramblestar began to question the returning patrol. His heart had sunk right down into his paws.