Shattered Sky

by Erin Hunter

  I don’t understand what’s going on with Needletail, he thought sadly. She was my friend once, but now . . . I can’t be sure.

  Would she help us?

  The half-moon floated above the hills as Alderheart headed for the Moonpool. The night was chilly, with a tang of rain in the air, but the clouds thinned out as the medicine cats crossed the border and began to climb.

  Leafpool was in the lead, with Jayfeather and Willowshine, while Mothwing and Alderheart had dropped back a few tail-lengths.

  “So? Do you think Needletail would help us sneak out the prisoners?” Mothwing asked in a whisper.

  Alderheart kept a wary eye on the other medicine cats ahead of them, knowing how sharp Jayfeather’s hearing was, but none of them seemed aware of his murmured conversation with Mothwing.

  “I have no idea,” he replied. “I would need to talk to her.”

  “Like that’s going to be easy,” Mothwing responded with an irritable twitch of her tail.

  When he pushed his way through the bushes at the top of the slope above the Moonpool, Alderheart wasn’t surprised to see that neither Puddleshine nor Kestrelflight was waiting for them. Turning, he gazed back the way they had come, but nothing moved in all the landscape. Everything was still and silent under the frosty light.

  “We’ll give them a little longer,” Leafpool decided as she led the way down the spiral path toward the pool. “They might be on their way.”

  “And hedgehogs might fly,” Jayfeather meowed scornfully. “We all know they won’t come.”

  Alderheart sat in silence, watching the glittering reflections of moon and starshine on the surface of the pool, and listening to the sound of the water as it cascaded down the rocks. His heart ached.

  It’s so peaceful here, and yet the Clans are in such turmoil.

  The moon rose slowly in the sky, but still there was no sign of the WindClan and ShadowClan medicine cats. Finally Leafpool rose to her paws again.

  “We’ve waited long enough,” she declared. “No cat can say that we haven’t given them every chance.”

  “Then let’s get on with it,” Jayfeather mewed. “We’re wasting moonlight.”

  Leafpool nodded. “I need to say one thing before we meet with StarClan,” she announced. “These are challenging times, and I know that every cat wants to do their best to save the Clans. But I hope that we all have the sense to look after ourselves, and not put ourselves in danger fishing for information. Don’t you agree, Alderheart?”

  Aware of Leafpool’s sharp glance resting on him, Alderheart ducked his head. “Sure, Leafpool,” he mumbled.

  She must have worked out that Mothwing and I went to the RiverClan camp. She doesn’t approve . . . but she hasn’t actually told us not to do it again.

  Meanwhile, Jayfeather was shifting his paws impatiently. “Are we ever going to dream tonight?” he asked. “We need StarClan’s guidance more than ever.”

  “We’ll do it now,” Leafpool responded. “And may StarClan light our path.”

  Together with the other medicine cats, Alderheart crouched over the pool and touched his nose to the surface of the water. Icy darkness swirled around him, and when it cleared, he found himself standing on short grass, which stretched away as far as he could see.

  He looked around for the spirits of his ancestors, but instead he caught sight of a group of skinny, ragged cats sheltering under some bushes a few fox-lengths away.

  “SkyClan . . . ,” he whispered to himself.

  Pain clawed at his heart as Alderheart recognized the cat who was on watch: the large tom who looked so much like Twigpaw, but with Violetpaw’s eyes. He realized once again how much this cat resembled his lost friend.

  Then sudden hope sprang up inside Alderheart. Maybe Dovewing and Tigerheart were wrong! Maybe Twigpaw did escape the monster and reach SkyClan after all!

  He padded up to the group of cats, knowing that none of them would realize that he was there. He passed so close to the large tabby tom that their pelts almost brushed.

  But though Alderheart thoroughly searched the group of resting cats and peered underneath every bush, there was no sign of Twigpaw, and he couldn’t pick up even the faintest trace of her scent.

  His hope died, leaving him even more grief-stricken than before. Opening his eyes, he found himself once again crouching beside the Moonpool, but its beauty left his heart cold. This proves it. If Twigpaw had made it to SkyClan, I would have seen her. She must really be dead.

  CHAPTER 13

  Violetpaw crouched over the body of a fat wood pigeon, tearing at the succulent flesh. All around her, Darktail and his Kin were gulping down their prey. The sun felt warm on Violetpaw’s back, and from close by she could hear the gentle gurgling of the streams that bordered the RiverClan camp.

  It must have been so beautiful here, before Darktail and his rogues attacked.

  “Wow, I’ve never seen a pigeon disappear so fast,” Darktail meowed, looking up at Violetpaw from the rabbit he was eating. His eyes gleamed teasingly. “Maybe you’d like some of this rabbit as well.”

  Scorchfur, one of the last remaining ShadowClan warriors, pricked up his ears and frowned, as if he couldn’t believe Darktail’s good-humored tone. But he didn’t speak, instead running to carry a squirrel to his mate, Snowbird, who was in the nursery with her kits.

  Violetpaw had to choke down her mouthful; she trusted Darktail even less when he was being friendly. “No thanks, Darktail. I’m not even sure I can finish this.”

  “Well, tell me if you change your mind,” Darktail responded. “We can’t have you starving, can we?”

  As he spoke, Scorchfur came back, hesitated for a moment, and then meowed, “Maybe we should give the leftover prey to the RiverClan prisoners—and to Needletail. They’re beginning to look really skinny. After all,” he added with a glance toward the center of the camp, where the prisoners were kept, “if we’re going to keep them prisoner, isn’t it our responsibility to see that they’re healthy?”

  Violetpaw spotted Darktail narrowing his eyes, his muzzle tensing in anger, then an instant later relaxing. His voice was calm as he replied to Scorchfur.

  “Of course I’m feeding the prisoners well. Do you have any reason to think otherwise?”

  Scorchfur glared at Darktail, hatred shining visibly in his eyes. Looking from one cat to the other, Violetpaw felt her neck fur prickle with fear. Don’t say it, she pleaded silently. Snowbird is still nursing your kits—don’t make her struggle for prey while you’re punished by Darktail.

  Slowly, Darktail rose to his paws and padded over to Scorchfur, thrusting his face within a mouse-length of the dark gray warrior’s.

  “Scorchfur,” he meowed softly, “do you doubt my ability to lead my Kin? Perhaps you’re not truly my Kin. Not every cat is. Perhaps you would be happier somewhere else?”

  Scorchfur was silent for a few more heartbeats. “No, Darktail,” he blurted out at last. “Of course I don’t doubt you. Of course you know what’s best.”

  For a long moment, Darktail did not move, staring into Scorchfur’s eyes. At last, when Violetpaw thought she could not bear the tension any longer, he gave a curt nod and padded back to where he had left his rabbit, close beside Sleekwhisker.

  Scorchfur choked down the rest of his vole, then rose and stumbled away, followed by the other ShadowClan warriors who had been eating with them.

  “Don’t go far,” Darktail called after him. “The prisoners’ den needs to be cleaned out soon.”

  Poor Scorchfur, Violetpaw thought. He should have kept his mouth shut. Now that there were no apprentices, Darktail saved the worst jobs for cats who had angered him. Poor Puddleshine had cleaned the prisoners’ den last. Violetpaw still felt a flutter of guilt when she remembered the terrible confrontation where she’d gotten him into trouble. Fortunately, even Darktail seemed to realize that the Kin needed a medicine cat too badly for Puddleshine to remain on cleaning duty for long.

  When Scorchfur and the others
were gone, Sleekwhisker let out an exaggerated sigh. “When will all the ShadowClan warriors leave? It’s obvious they don’t understand how you work, Darktail. They’re not worthy of your leadership!”

  Darktail turned a baleful gaze on her. “Don’t forget that you were once a ShadowClan cat,” he reminded her.

  “I haven’t thought of myself as ShadowClan for a long time,” Sleekwhisker responded boldly. “I’m Kin now, through and through. I was one of the first cats to join you, while these other mange-pelts were ShadowClan right up to the time you took over the territory. And the sooner they leave, the better.”

  She leaned over so that her pelt brushed Darktail’s, but the rogue leader turned a sharp glance on her, making her ease away.

  “You shouldn’t wish for that!” Darktail snapped. “We need the ShadowClan cats. Even with our kittypet friends and our new Kin, we’re still outnumbered by the Clan warriors.”

  That’s Darktail’s own fault, Violetpaw thought. He shouldn’t have done whatever he did to Dawnpelt and the others!

  “Wow, I’m stuffed!” she exclaimed, rising to her paws and grabbing up the remains of her pigeon. “I can’t finish this,” she mumbled through the mouthful of feathers.

  Darktail and the rest of his Kin seemed not to be paying any attention to her. Violetpaw carried the pigeon over to the refuse pile and dropped it there, her nose wrinkling at the stink of rotting crow-food.

  This is disgusting, she thought. We never left food to rot in the ShadowClan camp.

  With two territories in which to hunt, the Kin were never short of prey. Violetpaw was revolted by how much they wasted, especially when Darktail kept the prisoners starving.

  Glancing over her shoulder to make sure that no cat was watching her, Violetpaw slipped through a clump of long grass and wriggled toward an elder bush where she had stashed a particularly fat vole. She had to claw her way through the tangled stems, taking so long to find it that, for a moment, she was afraid that some other creature had come by and stolen her prey.

  Then she relaxed as she spotted the smooth curve of the vole’s pelt. Grabbing it in her jaws, she headed for the bramble thicket where the prisoners were guarded.

  Violetpaw dropped the vole out of sight behind a rock, then strolled up to Zelda and Yarrowleaf, who were on guard. “Hi,” she meowed. “I’ll keep watch for a bit, if you want to go eat.”

  Zelda’s eyes lit up, while Yarrowleaf swiped her tongue around her jaws. “Great!” she exclaimed. “My belly thinks my throat’s been torn out.”

  Both she-cats vanished rapidly in the direction of the fresh-kill pile.

  When they were gone, Violetpaw retrieved the vole and slid through the bramble tendrils until she reached the clear space in the middle of the thicket where the prisoners lived.

  For a moment, none of them realized that Violetpaw was there. Icewing and Mintfur lay stretched out close together; Violetpaw could see every one of their ribs. Icewing’s wound showed red and angry, and Violetpaw realized that Puddleshine had not treated it with any medicine. He had not been allowed to. Reedwhisker was curled up asleep. Brackenpelt was trying to groom herself, but the effort of simply turning her head seemed to exhaust her. She flopped down, panting, on her side after a few feeble licks.

  Needletail was pacing in the confined space, and as she turned, she spotted Violetpaw. “You again!” she muttered, padding up to her. “You shouldn’t take these kinds of risks. Darktail will have your fur off if he finds you here.”

  “I’ve brought you some more food,” Violetpaw replied, dropping the vole at Needletail’s paws. Pain clawed at her heart as she saw how tired and defeated her friend looked. “And I’m careful. Darktail won’t find out. Come on, eat.”

  Needletail fell on the prey and snatched it up, but instead of starting to eat, she carried it over to the RiverClan prisoners. Violetpaw stared in surprise, her heart warmed by her friend’s unselfishness.

  “Violetpaw’s here again,” Needletail mewed. “She’s brought you some food.”

  The RiverClan cats looked up listlessly, their interest suddenly sharpening as they caught the scent of vole.

  “Thank StarClan!” Brackenpelt breathed out, her jaws starting to water.

  Violetpaw watched as the prisoners devoured the vole; it was gone in a few heartbeats, and they only got a couple of mouthfuls each. She noticed that Needletail didn’t take any—she just looked on as the others ate.

  “We can’t hang on like this,” Mintfur meowed when the last scrap of prey had vanished. “Darktail is the cruelest cat I’ve ever known.”

  “Hush!” Brackenpelt gave Mintfur a warning prod. “Violetpaw is one of Darktail’s cats.”

  “I don’t care!” Mintfur retorted. “Darktail is cruel.” She glared up at Violetpaw. “Tell him what I said, and let him do what he likes.”

  “I won’t tell him anything,” Violetpaw responded. “I think he’s cruel, too.”

  “So why do you follow him?” Reedwhisker asked, surprised.

  “She doesn’t follow him, mouse-brain,” Needletail pointed out with an irritated twitch of her whiskers. “Would she bring you prey if she agreed with what Darktail is doing?”

  “I made a mistake at first,” Violetpaw admitted. “I’m trying to think of a way to help you, and in the meantime I will keep bringing you food when I can.”

  The RiverClan cats glanced at one another, and Violetpaw saw the first signs of hope beginning to dawn in their eyes. But before she could say any more she heard sounds from outside the thicket: paw steps and the voices of Zelda and Yarrowleaf.

  “I’ve got to go,” she murmured, and slipped quickly out into the open again.

  As Zelda and Yarrowleaf came up to her, Violetpaw noticed that Zelda was looking at her with an odd expression. I wonder whether she heard any of that.

  Only the night before, in the nest they still shared, Violetpaw and Zelda had talked together long after darkness had fallen.

  “I still want to go home to my housefolk,” Zelda had meowed, “but I don’t think that Darktail is ever going to let me.”

  Violetpaw had been unable to find words to reply, knowing that Zelda was right: she was just as much a prisoner as the RiverClan cats.

  Now Violetpaw wondered whether Zelda would betray her to Darktail if she knew that she was feeding the prisoners.

  She might, just to get into his favor. I can’t risk trusting her.

  Violetpaw met Zelda’s gaze, hoping to find some kind of clue in her eyes, but the kittypet’s expression was unreadable.

  “Violetpaw!” Darktail’s voice cut across Violetpaw’s musings, making her jump. “Violetpaw, where are you?”

  With a swift nod to Zelda and Yarrowleaf, Violetpaw bounded across the camp to where Darktail was standing with his Kin around him.

  “There you are!” he meowed as Violetpaw ran up to him. “The fresh-kill pile is getting low. I want you to hunt.”

  “Sure, Darktail.” Violetpaw kept her expression calm and obedient, but inwardly her heart was surging. This could be just the break I need!

  Sunhigh was past when Violetpaw returned to the RiverClan camp and slung a rabbit on top of the growing fresh-kill pile. She had already brought back several mice and a squirrel.

  One thing about living with the rogues, where every cat is always out for themselves, she reflected, it’s made me a better hunter.

  Even though Clan cats usually hunted in patrols, the Kin often hunted alone so they wouldn’t have to share prey. This time, Violetpaw had insisted on going off by herself, knowing that Darktail wouldn’t question her. He’s been so nice to me ever since I betrayed Needletail, she thought with a shudder. And now that I’ve caught enough prey to impress him, I’ve got time for a trip of my own.

  “I’m going to try over in ShadowClan territory,” she called out to any cat who might be listening, then bounded down to the lakeshore and headed past the Twoleg half-bridge.

  It wasn’t ShadowClan territory Violetpaw had in mind.
It was time to admit she couldn’t fight Darktail alone. She was heading for ThunderClan, and her sister.

  I hope Twigpaw isn’t too angry with me for what happened in the battle. Because I desperately need her help.

  Violetpaw slipped swiftly and silently through the undergrowth, keeping close to the edge of the lake. All her senses were alert for the sound or scent of any rogues who might be hunting in ShadowClan territory, but she did not meet any cat until she splashed through the stream that marked the border with ThunderClan.

  Drawing a long breath, Violetpaw began to relax, padding more confidently toward the ThunderClan camp, only to grow tense again as powerful, fresh scents—a mixture of ThunderClan and RiverClan—flowed over her from a bank of ferns just ahead. A moment later the fern fronds waved and three cats pushed their way into the open.

  In the lead was a young gray-and-white tom Violetpaw recognized as Dewnose. The other two were less familiar to her, though she had seen them now and then at Gatherings and knew that they came from RiverClan. I should remember their names. . . . Podlight and . . . yes, Beetlewhisker.

  Violetpaw waited, dipping her head respectfully, as the patrol bounded up to her.

  “What are you doing here?” Dewnose asked.

  To Violetpaw’s relief, he sounded surprised rather than hostile. “I don’t mean you any harm,” she meowed hastily. “I’ve come for help—and to see my sister.”

  “Why should we believe you?” Podlight asked roughly. “How do we know you aren’t part of a rogue plan to attack?”

  “Oh, come on, Podlight.” Dewnose gave the RiverClan tom a shove. “If Darktail wanted to attack, would he warn us by sending an apprentice?”

  “I’m here alone,” Violetpaw assured them. “Darktail doesn’t know. If you don’t believe me, you can leave some cat to watch the border while the rest of you escort me in.”

  Podlight gave her a curt nod, seeming satisfied with that.