Tallstar’s Revenge

Tallpaw pressed himself against the wall of the camp, sheltering in the heather fronds while Aspenfall, Cloudrunner, and Hareflight lifted Brackenwing’s body and carried it to a grassy hollow between the tussocks. As they laid her down, Hawkheart brought herbs from the medicine den and laid them along Brackenwing’s flank. Tallpaw could smell their pungent, green odor as it masked the scent of death. Redclaw and Palebird settled beside her but Shrewpaw kept circling, his eyes dark.

“My dear friend.” Palebird pressed her muzzle into Brackenwing’s fur. “You’re the only one who saw Finchkit before she died. No one else understood my grief.”

Tallpaw wished there was some way he could comfort his mother. But he had never been able to. His chest tightened. She won’t want me. It’s my fault her friend’s dead.

As the sun rose into the sky, Hawkheart moved from cat to cat, checking wounds while Barkpaw dashed back and forth to the medicine den fetching herbs to treat them. Aspenfall and Ryestalk collected the shredded gorse around the nursery and began to thread it back into the walls.

Meadowslip peeked out. “Make them thick,” she mewed shakily. “I want my kits to be safe if there’s another attack.”

“ShadowClan won’t get through this,” Aspenfall promised her, weaving another thorny stem through the branches.

Stagleap helped Whiteberry, Flamepelt, and Flailfoot hook back the torn stems that dangled across the entrance to the elders’ den. Lilywhisker sat back and gave directions. “Weave in some heather to soften it,” she croaked. “The gorse thorns scrape my spine every time I go in.”

“Tallpaw?” Hawkheart’s mew surprised him.

Tallpaw glanced up at the sky. How long had he sat alone? Sunhigh had passed and the sun was sliding toward the moor-top. “What?” he meowed, feeling hollow inside.

“I need to treat your wounds.” The medicine cat was brisk. “Stand up so I can take a look.”

“Don’t bother.” Tallpaw stared at the ground. The scratches Frogpaw and Ashpaw had given him were throbbing. But they felt like gnat bites compared with the stinging wounds Shrewpaw had left on his muzzle. “My wounds don’t matter.”

“Don’t be rabbit-brained.” Hawkheart crouched beside him.

“But I killed her,” Tallpaw croaked.

“You’re a half-trained apprentice. The safety of the Clan doesn’t rest in your paws,” Hawkheart told him sharply. “You weren’t the only cat on that patrol. Are any of the others blaming themselves?”

Tallpaw glanced across the camp to where Stagleap was sifting through the prey heap. He hadn’t detected ShadowClan’s scents. But I did. I should have told him.

Hawkheart sniffed at the scratches around Tallpaw’s ears. Tallpaw flinched as his nose touched a tender wound. “Barkpaw!” Hawkheart called across the clearing. “Bring some dock and marigold.”

Barkpaw’s gaze flashed toward them. Tallpaw tried to catch his eye, but his friend just nodded and headed for the medicine den. Tallpaw wondered if Barkpaw would ever speak to him again.

Once Hawkheart had left and the herbs had begun to soothe the sting of his wounds, Tallpaw tucked his paws tighter under him. Palebird and Redclaw still lay beside Brackenwing’s body. Shrewpaw continued to pace in circles, while the rest of the Clan waited at the edge of the clearing for the night vigil to begin. Tallpaw watched the sun dip below the wall of the camp and huddled deeper into the heather, relieved as the shadows swallowed him.

He stiffened as the branches around him trembled. Someone was coming through the entrance. He jerked around as Hickorynose marched into the camp. Sandgorse, Mistmouse, Woollytail, and Plumclaw followed, their eyes stretching wide as they saw the torn gorse and shredded grass littering the clearing, some of it stained ominously red.

Plumclaw’s pelt fluffed. “Is that Brackenwing?” She charged across the clearing and gazed down at the dead warrior’s body. “What happened?”

Aspenfall emerged from the nursery, his fur covered in bits of leaf. “ShadowClan attacked.”

“Can’t you smell their stench?” Reedfeather leaped out of the Meeting Hollow. “It seemed as if the entire Clan was here.”

Heatherstar padded from her den, following the rim of the hollow and stopping beside her deputy. “It’s a shame you didn’t get back earlier,” she mewed quietly to the tunnelers.

Sandgorse twitched an ear. “Palebird?”

Palebird lifted her head from beside Brackenwing. “I’m okay.” Her mew cracked as she spoke.

Shrewpaw lashed his tail. “Brackenwing’s dead and it was Tallpaw’s fault!”

Sandgorse blinked. “Tallpaw? How?” Nose twitching, he peered into the shadows, stopping when he spotted Tallpaw. His eyes darkened. Heart twisting, Tallpaw looked away. He hates me even more now.

“Shrewpaw.” Reedfeather stepped forward. “You have to stop blaming Tallpaw for something ShadowClan did. You are Clanmates. Your loyalty is to each other.”

“But—”