The Last Hope

Dovewing whirled as brambles shifted behind her. Jayfeather slid out of the medicine den. His nose twitched. “Half Moon!” His cry was almost a wail. “Are you here?”

“Jay’s Wing!” A smoke-gray Ancient ducked away from the battle and rushed to meet him. She touched her muzzle softly to his.

“You came,” Jayfeather whispered.

“Of course, my love.” Half Moon held her cheek against Jayfeather’s, then broke away. “I must fight.”

Jayfeather nodded. “Send any wounded to me.” He nosed his way back into his den.

Half Moon glanced at Dovewing. “Come on,” she meowed briskly.

Dovewing raced after the Ancient as she plunged back into battle. She could hardly see in the darkness. Cloud pressed down above the hollow, extinguishing the stars. Pelts writhed and tumbled around her. She could make out the huge shape of Midnight, but Dark Forest warriors were swarming over the badger’s back. With a howl, Midnight fell, dragged down by countless claws.

Dovewing fought back panic.

“Fight beside me!” She recognized Lionblaze’s growl and turned to see the golden warrior’s eyes flashing at her.

“We’re still outnumbered,” she wailed.

“Then we need to fight harder.”

“Look out!” Dovewing shrieked a warning as Breezepelt flew from the edge of the clearing.

Lionblaze turned, caught off balance, and fell beneath the WindClan tom.

Breezepelt ripped his claws along Lionblaze’s cheek. “You’re not as strong as I expected,” he gloated.

“Breezepelt, no!” Ivypool snaked through the throng. “Don’t do it! Please! Do you really want to destroy the Clans for Brokenstar’s sake?”

Breezepelt pulled back Lionblaze’s head and smacked it hard against the ground. Growling, Lionblaze tried to shake him off, but Breezepelt held on tighter.

“This has nothing to do with Brokenstar.” His gaze flashed at Ivypool. “Lionblaze should never have been born. None of them should.” He flicked his tail triumphantly toward Hollyleaf’s body. “She’s dead; now it’s your turn, Lionblaze.” He bit into Lionblaze’s neck.

“We’re kin!” Lionblaze gasped.

“Never!” Fury blazed in Breezepelt’s eyes.

A black pelt barged past Dovewing. Crowfeather! The WindClan warrior sank his claws deep into Breezepelt’s shoulders and hauled him back. Lionblaze scrambled to his paws.

“This has to stop!” Crowfeather pinned Breezepelt to the ground. “I will not watch you harm a whisker on that cat!”

Breezepelt writhed, snarling. “I always knew you hated me!”

“I never hated you!” Crowfeather growled. “That’s just what you were determined to believe. And Nightcloud encouraged you.”

“It’s not her fault!” Breezepelt spat.

“No,” Crowfeather hissed. “I should have done something much earlier. But now it’s too late. You chose the Dark Forest.” He hauled Breezepelt to his paws and flung him away. “Get out of here!”

Breezepelt stared at his father, eyes wide, then turned and raced from the camp.

“I’m so sorry!” Leafpool burst from the battle, her eyes clouded with grief. “I never meant for this to happen!”

“He’s a warrior,” Crowfeather hissed. “He’s been making his own choices for a long time now.”

Leafpool looked down at his paws. “Perhaps if we’d stayed together, things would be different.”

Crowfeather’s gaze sparked for a moment, then he sighed. “It was never meant to be.” Leafpool flinched, but Crowfeather touched his tail to her flank. “I don’t regret anything,” he murmured. His gaze flicked toward Lionblaze. “Nothing at all.” Ears twitching, he shouldered his way through the battle to the brambles sheltering Hollyleaf’s body. He slid beneath them and touched his muzzle to her lifeless pelt.

A rough pelt jostled Dovewing and she stumbled into Ivypool. “What’s happening?” Had more Dark Forest warriors arrived? She turned, blinking, as a massive white tom appeared at her side.

“Whitestorm!” Graystripe’s yowl rang through the air and he came plunging toward them. “You’re here!” Graystripe nudged the white warrior’s shoulder warmly.

Whitestorm shouldered him away. “Move over, youngster,” he growled. “This is a battle, not a reunion.” He reared up and sent a Dark Forest warrior staggering back with a powerful front-paw swipe.

“Where’s Mousefur?” A familiar voice sounded in Dovewing’s ear.

“Longtail!” she gasped as her dead Clanmate squeezed past.

“Where is she?” Longtail demanded.

“Defending her den.” Dovewing nodded toward the honeysuckle bush where Mousefur fought beside Purdy.

“Come on!” Longtail leaped away, knocking a Dark Forest warrior from his path.

Mousefur was hissing, a ragged tabby in her grip as she churned at his spine with vicious hind claws.

Longtail plucked the tabby away. “Let me help!” He sliced a gash in the tabby’s flank, then flung him back toward his Clanmates.

“You took your time,” Mousefur muttered. “Always late, that’s your trouble.”

“Not too late, I hope,” Longtail retorted.

As he spoke, a Dark Forest tom lunged from behind. Knocking Longtail out of the way, he grabbed Mousefur in his jaws. Surprise lit Mousefur’s gaze as she stumbled and fell.