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talonslockau · 10 months ago

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Forest of Secrets - Chapter 10

Chapter 9 || Index || Chapter 11

Longtail immediately took the lead as soon as the patrol was out of camp, racing back towards where they had met Smudge. Mousefur, Dustleap and Mistspring ran side by side just behind him, leaving Fireheart and Cinderpaw to the rear of the patrol. “Do you think they’re expecting us?” The fluffy gray molly asked him, her fur already bushed out in excitement.

“I hope not.” Fireheart mewed, though privately he wondered if they were expecting their attacks to provoke a response from Thunderclan. While Thunderclan had no relations to the Twolegplace, except for perhaps him, he could see an arrogant cat like Brokentail thinking they were all fond of kittypets. Especially, he reflected, since the leader before Bluestar had left to become a kittypet himself, though he wasn’t sure if Brokentail was aware of that or not.

“Oooh, I hope we get the drop on them! I’ll show them some real Thunderclan fury!” The apprentice crowed, her blue eyes still sparkling with barely restrained alacrity. “They’ll never-”

“Keep it down back there! Do you want Brokentail to know we’re coming?” Dustleap snarled behind him. Cinderpaw closed her mouth but rolled her eyes at Fireheart, clearly only humoring the tabby. The ginger tom himself was tempted to only speak louder, but he knew that Tigerclaw’s son was right: if Brokentail didn’t yet know they were after him, surely they didn’t want to give away the advantage of surprise.

They traveled to the Twolegplace in silence, finally reaching his old garden once more. “This is where Brokentail attacked the kittypet.” Longtail murmured to the rest of them. “Do you think we’ll be able to track him from here?”

They all lifted their noses to the air, trying to catch a scent. Finally, Mistspring shook her head. “I don’t smell rogue or Shadowclan.” She replied to him quietly.

As Fireheart drew in another deep breath, he heard a slight cough and sputter from Mousefur. All of the cats turned to her in confusion. “Can’t you smell that?” The small brown molly growled, swiping at her nose with a sheathed paw furiously. “What is that disgusting stench? It’s worse than the Thunderpath!”

Fireheart hesitated, not sure what she meant. There were some familiar Twolegplace smells, but none that he would consider disgusting. He briefly wondered if it was his familiarity that was causing confusion, but from the looks on the other warriors’ faces, they didn’t know either. “Where is it coming from, Mousefur?” Longtail asked his sister urgently.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but dutifully tasted the air again. “This way.” The warrior mewed, nodding into the forest towards the Thunderpath.

“That’s in our territory, then.” Dustleap growled. “We should investigate that first. If it’s a fox or badger, Tigerclaw will expect us to drive it out immediately.”

Though the former kittypet longed to dig his claws into Brokentail’s fur once more, he had to admit that the tabby was right. Something on their territory was more urgent than a distant threat off it. “Lead the way, Mousefur.” He mewed supportively, and she hesitantly took the lead once more with the rest of them right on her heels.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the patrol could smell it, too. “That’s no fox.” He choked out bitterly. It stank as badly as foxdung, or even worse, but it definitely smelled different from the one he had encountered as an apprentice.

“Nor a badger.” Mistspring chimed in. When Fireheart gave her a questioning look, she added, “One tried to make a den near the Windclan border when I was a new warrior. Both Clans worked together to drive it out then.”

They soon found the source: a mostly eaten-robin, a few maggots crawling around on it, on the edge of a clearing. “How long has this been here?” Cinderpaw wondered as she inched towards it curiously.

Mistspring quickly held her apprentice back with a paw. “Be careful. Touching it could make you very sick.” She looked around for a moment, before bringing over a stick to carefully drag the rotten kill a little more into the open.

All the cats turned away, trying not to let the smell overwhelm them. Even in the cold air, it was still nearly unbearable. “What left this crowfood here? A kittypet?” Dustleap snarled as he backed away, his face scrunched up so much he almost looked like Brokentail. “Those wasteful little-”

“A kittypet would bring their trophy back to their garden.” Fireheart replied with a narrow glare at the tabby. “And bury it properly. No, I think this was left to send a message.”

Mousefur and Longtail began circling the crowfood, scenting at the air while trying not to catch a whiff of the crowfood. “Over here.” Mousefur mewed as she came to a halt on the far edge of the clearing. “Shadowclan scent.”

“Clawface.” Longtail mewed as he scented the ground. “We’re on the right track.” He glanced dismissively towards the crowfood. “Fireheart, Cinderpaw, why don’t you bury that while we follow the trail? We don’t want that stink attracting anything desperate.”

Fireheart’s lip curled into a snarl at being given an apprentice duty, but he nodded respectfully all the same. “Of course. Leave some markers so we can follow you.”

“And remind Brokentail whose territory this is.” Dustleap growled, dragging his claws down the bark of a nearby ash tree and leaving deep scratches to mark their territory. The four warriors bounded off, leaving Fireheart and Cinderpaw alone.

“We better get to it quickly.” He mewed to her, and found a suitable soft patch of soil to start digging into. Cinderpaw grabbed the stick her mentor had left behind, carefully dragging the crowfood over to the hole as soon as he was done and shoving it in.

He had just begun covering it when he heard rustling in the bracken. Looking up, he saw Yellowfang and Dewpaw emerge from the bushes. Both were clutching sticks laden with cobwebs, and a loose moss bundle with still-colorful flowers and leaves inside. “I thought I heard something over here.” Yellowfang commented as she dropped what she was carrying. “Crowfood?” She asked as she scented the air.

“Clawface’s gift.” Fireheart confirmed as he dragged more earth over the crowfood. “Longtail and the others are on the trail.”

“They probably won’t have hunted too far from their new camp. I imagine they’ve already found them by now.” The old healer nodded for her apprentice to set her bundle down next to her. “We’ll set up here, then. Tell the others where to find us if they need us.”

“We will. Can you finish covering this for us?” Fireheart asked Dewpaw, who nodded quickly. “Make sure it’s well buried. We’re so close to the Twolegplace, I don’t want a dog finding it and digging it up.”

“Of course. Go on, but be safe. Both of you.” She touched noses with her sister, who was almost prancing in place in eagerness. Fireheart had barely turned around before Cinderpaw was already off, chasing after her mentor. The ginger tom gave an exasperated look over his shoulder to the healers before following her.

They found the rest of the patrol at a run-down section of Twolegplace fence. The roar of the Thunderpath was constant, drowning out any sound of their approach. Several pieces of wood from the fence had come off, and now were covered in dirt and moss, indicating they had been there a while. Through the gaps, he could see the Twoleg nest that this fence was supposed to protect. It was equally derelict, the windows hastily covered with some wood, while the door had come off its hinges entirely.

“No Twoleg has been here in seasons.” Fireheart hissed to the others. “They would never live in a place so run down.”

“It’s the perfect cover.” Mousefur mused opposite him as she glanced through the gap they had all crowded around. “No warrior would go near it without reason, nor would any kittypet.”

“Fireheart. What can we expect inside?” Mistspring mewed softly to him, careful not to let her voice carry away on the wind and alert any cats lurking inside.

His fur prickled angrily for a moment. How was he supposed to know? He hadn’t been inside every Twoleg nest ever! Still, he forced it to flatten, knowing that the pale gray molly hadn’t meant anything by it. “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen the inside of an abandoned nest before.”

Dustleap snorted derisively, and he glared slightly at the tabby tom. “It might be empty, but there could still be furniture inside - that’s what Twolegs call their belongings. Most Twoleg furniture has room underneath it, or inside of it, so it’s easy to hide in, and those hiding places aren’t always immediately obvious. We should be prepared for them to jump out from anywhere.”

Even Longtail begrudgingly nodded in understanding at his words. “It doesn’t help that they’re former Shadowclan cats. Everyone knows they’re the most experienced in hiding in small nooks-”

“Psst!” Mousefur hissed at her brother, swiping with her tail for them to hide. They all flattened to the ground as best they could, trying to stay out of sight as they watched three large cats jump over the fence from another Twoleg nest. It was Stumpytail, Clawface, and a ginger tom nearly the same color as him that he didn’t recognize. Clawface was carrying a thrush, while the other two seemed to have returned empty-pawed.

The three toms trotted over to the empty door frame, seemingly unbothered as they were swallowed up by the yawning darkness inside. The patrol waited tensely for a few moments longer, but no cat left the nest as they watched.

“I didn’t recognize that orange cat.” Dustleap looked disdainfully towards Fireheart. “One of your kin?”

He was tempted to growl back in response, but instead shook his head in reply. “I’ve never seen him before. He didn’t look like a kittypet, either; he looked just as muscular as the rest of them.” The young tom mewed, his mind racing back through the battles he’d had with Shadowclan. Dustleap was right: He’d never seen a Shadowclan cat with such bright fur.

“It doesn’t matter. The mission stays the same.” Longtail growled lowly to all of them. “We drive them all out, no matter if there’s four or a dozen cats in there. And remember: these cats are kit-stealers and killers. They’re outside the warrior code now.”

With that ominous note, the thin tabby tom squeezed through the gap in the fence and began stalking through the weeds towards the nest, the patrol quickly filing in behind him. Fireheart’s blood roared in his ears as he followed. This was the moment of truth: there was no turning back now.

They bunched back up in the doorway, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness within. The state of the nest inside wasn’t any better: broken wood pieces littered the floor, which had been stained by seasons of rain and wind. What little furniture remained was barely holding together, although still recognizable. He recognized this area as similar to what his housefolk called the kitchen, where they had often prepared and sometimes eaten food. His own food bowl had been in the kitchen-

Longtail, Mistspring, and Mousefur stalked forward, cautiously investigating open cabinets for any lurking rogues. They checked carefully, and though Cinderpaw fidgeted impatiently beside him they all waited until each cat had gestured that the room was empty.

One of the doors out of the room was still closed, leaving only one option to move forward. The entire patrol huddled on each side of the door, waiting for a signal to enter from one of the older warriors. Just as Longtail nodded for them to move forward, their ears all perked as they heard meowing coming from beyond the doorway.

“When is Brokentail going to let us attack those fleabags, already? It’s so boring beating up these kittypet cowards! They never even fight back.” Fireheart didn’t recognize the voice, but he didn’t have to. Longtail immediately gestured for them to stay where they were, crouching and preparing to leap should the talker come into the kitchen.

“Patience, Ratscar. Brokentail has a plan. You have to trust in him.” His fur rose at the thought of the old Shadowclan tyrant plotting to attack them. His guess had been right, after all. He glanced over to Dustleap, whose orange eyes were ablaze in fury, though he still waited patiently for Longtail’s orders. “Why don’t you sate that thirst for blood with this thrush, hmm? Freshly caught from Thunderclan territory.”

The voice was light, teasing, like two Clanmates bickering over the freshkill pile. His stomach churned at the thought, and his claws itched to show them a lesson. His muscles burned from how tense he was, but no still no one moved.

Several heartbeats passed before they heard the crunch of feathers and bones from the other room, Ratscar having evidently taken up his fellow rogue’s offer. Longtail met Fireheart’s eyes from across the doorway and nodded decisively. At once, all six cats burst out from where they were hiding.

The room was covered in a ragged carpet, torn by both claws and the seasons. What little furniture might have once been in here was broken, though by what it was hard to say. It left a wide-open room with nowhere to hide for the rogues inside, who were gathered near one of the walls and clearly unprepared for the patrol as they charged in.

Fireheart slammed into the cat he recognized as Stumpytail, knocking the breath out of him before he could howl an alarm. Despite the surprise, the tabby tom recovered almost immediately, lashing out at his attacker and barely missing the ginger warrior’s cheek.

He didn’t hesitate to leap forward, catching the tabby off balance and sending him crashing to the floor. Around them were the caterwauls and yowls of battle, no doubt alerting any rogue that hadn’t been in the room what was going on. He pinned his ears flat, doing his best to ignore the going-ons around him as he tore his claws into the former Shadowclanner’s belly.

Stumpytail flailed around for purchase beneath him. For a moment, he thought that perhaps the rogue might try and flee. Instead, he was caught off guard as the tabby found a foothold and lunged towards his throat. Fireheart barely avoided the snapping fangs, retaliating by sinking his own teeth into the other tom’s ear. He tore at it, feeling a satisfying ripping as he took out a chunk of the ear.

The rogue howled in pain, skittering away to shake his head as though it would get rid of the pain. Instead, it sent an arc of crimson droplets through the air, a couple landing on Fireheart’s pelt. “Maybe Brokentail will name you Stumpyear instead.” He spat the chunk of ear out, grinning triumphantly at the sight of the tom’s new half-ear.

The former warrior roared in fury, leaping towards him with outstretched claws. Before the Thunderclanner could dodge out of the way, he watched in surprise and glee as Longtail slammed into the exile’s side. The two were immediately locked in a bitter turmoil, though he could see Stumpytail was already losing energy from the wounds Fireheart had already inflicted.

Just as he moved to help, he heard an anguished scream of pain. Snapping around, he caught sight of the new rogue, his lips curled in a snarl as he held Mistspring by the throat.

“Mistspring!” He yowled as he watched helplessly. The bulky rogue met his eyes, showing his teeth in a vicious grin as the warrior struggled in his grasp before visibly crunching down. The pale molly instantly went limp.

Fireheart looked on in horror. If he attacked now, the orange tom would only bite down harder, a death sentence if she was still alive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cinderpaw leap away from where she had been backing up Dustleap fighting another rogue. Her blue eyes went wide, then narrowed furiously as she realized the danger her mentor was in. “Cinderpaw, wai-”

He watched her dart forward, wincing as he prepared to see the new rogue snap the pale warrior’s neck from the force of the young molly’s blow. To his surprise, she stopped just short of the rogue tom, before lashing out with a paw faster than his eyes could see. He didn’t know what had happened until the rogue dropped Mistspring, backing away as he pawed at his throat and gasped for air.

Had she hit the rogue in his throat? He recalled the lesson that he had learned moons ago, back when he was still an apprentice; when struck in the neck, a cat will instinctively withdraw. Cinderpaw must have used that instinct to make him drop her mentor, he realized slowly. He’d expected her to attack recklessly, but she had instead displayed a level of foresight in the heat of battle that he didn’t know she was capable of.

He rushed to the apprentice’s side as she stood over her mentor. “Is she alive?” He asked the dark gray molly as he leaned down to nose at Mistspring. He could see the bleeding puncture marks where the rogue had bitten into her throat.

“I- I don’t-” The shock seemed to catch up to Cinderpaw, and he looked up at her worriedly as she suddenly gasped. “She is! I just saw her breathe!”

“Get her to Yellowfang. Now. I’ll cover you.” He took a defensive position in front of the two as he glared at Brokentail’s new rogue, who was beginning to recover from the throat punch. His eyes burned in rage as he looked past Fireheart to the two mollies, but the warrior didn’t give him a chance to formulate a plan before he charged, rearing up and lashing out with both paws at the orange tabby’s eyes.

The rogue tom ducked and barrelled into him, nearly lifting the Thunderclan warrior off the floor. Fireheart didn’t hesitate, instead taking the opportunity to land on the orange rogue’s back and begin to tear into his scruff. He flattened his ears to the howls of pain from his claws, taking it as encouragement to continue shredding the rogue’s fur.

The bright tabby bucked beneath him, trying to throw him off, until at last he dropped into a roll that slammed Fireheart onto the floor. The Thunderclan warrior wheezed but forced himself to his feet, not daring to take his eyes off the new rogue for more than a moment.

They stared each other down as Fireheart struggled to catch his breath. The other tom seemed about to attack when he felt another cat press into his side. “Need help?” He heard Mousefur mew, sparing a glance over to see her giving him a wicked grin.

“Please!” He answered, Mousefur immediately dashing forward and lashing out at the rogue, while Fireheart darted around to the other side and leaped at his back. He had barely dragged his claws through the tabby’s thick orange pelt before the rogue tom fled, tail tucked between his legs.

“That’s one down.” He mewed, turning to see the rest of the battle. It was bitter, especially with Mistspring and Cinderpaw both gone, but they had caught the rogues by surprise and that alone seemed to have been enough to strike fear into their hearts. Longtail seemed to have already chased off Stumpytail and was now helping Dustleap wrestle with Spiderfoot and a patched molly he had seen fight for Shadowclan before. Ratscar was nowhere to be seen, apparently having fled in the earlier fight. Mousefur had leaped into battle with Clawface, and he was just about to join her when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye.

His fur stood on end as he spied the familiar messy dark fur of the former Shadowclan tyrant sneaking through an adjacent room. Brokentail seemed to have already realized which way the fight was going, and chosen not to fight with his fellow code-breaking rogues. What a coward, Fireheart growled to himself as he abandoned the fight to hurtle after the rogue leader.

Brokentail spotted the ginger blur dart towards him and whirled around, his matted fur bristling furiously. “You! How dare you show your face again?” The exiled leader yowled, his dark eyes alight in fury. “You’ve taken my Clan from me, and now you think you can take my lives too?”

Fireheart snarled at him, letting his claws glint in the dim sunlight. “I’ll chase you however far I need to to make sure you never hurt another innocent cat again.” He spat, lunging for the tabby tom, but Brokentail stepped nimbly out of the way.

“We’ll see about that.” He thought the rogue leader would attack him, but instead he bolted away, leaving Fireheart to chase through the nest after him. Brokentail knew the nest better than he did, however, weaving his way through broken and mangled furniture as he sprinted for the front door. The Thunderclan warrior lagged behind, having to pick his way through the mess more carefully until the rogue leader was out of sight.

When he got to the front of the Twoleg nest, Fireheart was surprised to see the front door was still there and tightly shut. Surely the rogue hadn’t escaped through a solid door? Then he spied a dark tail tip disappear through one of the half-closed windows. The ginger warrior followed, leaping through the window fearlessly.

He grit his teeth as he found himself plunging through a rose bush, the dry thorns raking at his fur as he tumbled through the branches. He managed to land on his feet, shaking his fur out briefly before looking up to spot Brokentail bolting towards the Thunderpath.

“Not again!” He grunted to himself, forcing himself to race after the exile even as his wounds from the fight and fall began to sting bitterly. He wasn’t going to let Brokentail get away a second time! He had to answer for his crimes against the Clans, once and for all. The former Shadowclan leader looked over his shoulder at Fireheart as he darted across the Thunderpath, a mocking grin that said he knew he would be getting away from Fireheart once more.

And then the Monster hit him.

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