Prologue
All was silent in the clearing, save for the soft rush of the river, which shimmered in the light of the moon. Starlight glittered on the wet grass and shone on the rocks scattered around the clearing, cloaking the area in a dim light. Hidden by the undergrowth on the edge of the clearing, a group of cats was staring at the river, eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you heard right, Darkstripe?” hissed a small brown molly, glancing at the cat crouched beside her, a dark tabby.
The tabby flicked his tail in annoyance and kneaded the ground, sheathing and unsheathing his claws in anticipation. “I’ve told you a thousand times,” he hissed back. “Yes, I am sure.”
“It was good of you to overhear,” growled a massive tabby, not taking his eyes off the river. Darkstripe’s ears immediately pricked at the praise, and he stifled a purr.
“Us being here should teach those mangy RiverClan apprentices to keep their mouths shut,” a young tom added, a hint of malice in his voice, but another cat immediately cuffed his ears. “Ow!” the young tom yelped, to which several voices hissed at him to be quiet.
“Don’t give away our position,” warned the cat who had cuffed the young tom, fluffing out his tortoiseshell coat in annoyance. The tom growled, but said no more.
The group waited for another moment in silence, before the tortoiseshell tom whispered, “If they haven’t shown at this point, I doubt they ever will.”
“What?” snarled the massive tabby in protest, glowering at him.
“Do you plan on waiting here all night, Tigerclaw?” the tortoiseshell demanded, flattening his ears. “We’ve waited long enough. We’ll mark Sunningrocks as ours now, and if RiverClan has been here by the time the dawn patrol arrives, then we will deal with the situation diplomatically.”
“But if we prevent them from taking the rocks tonight, then we won’t have to worry about that!” Tigerclaw spat. “You know that as well as I do, Redtail.”
“And how are we to know that the apprentice Darkstripe heard wasn’t lying, or at the very least mistaken?” challenged Redtail, and Tigerclaw fell silent, lashing his tail. “ThunderClan,” Redtail continued, addressing the entire group, “or at least those of you who are here, mark the border thoroughly and return to camp.”
As the group slipped out from the underbrush, Redtail gestured for a black tom, the smallest of the group, to stop. “Redtail?” the black tom asked with a hint of anxiety in his voice.
“Stay in the undergrowth, Ravenpaw,” Redtail ordered.
“I was only told to stay with the herbs if there was a fight,” the black tom protested, but Redtail lashed his tail.
“There could still be a fight, and you aren’t trained for that. Get back into the undergrowth until it’s absolutely safe.”
Ravenpaw nodded, eyes glazed with relief, and slunk back to his former position in the bracken.
Suddenly, a yowl pierced the air, and a large cat launched himself from the river, barreling into Dustpaw. With a cry, Redtail tore away from Ravenpaw and raced to help his Clanmate, but was cut off by another cat crawling out of the water, snarling. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, the clearing was swarming with the wet cats, outnumbering Redtail’s group.
Redtail let out a ferocious cry and launched himself at his opponent, just as an enormous reddish-brown tom slammed into Tigerclaw, just a few feet away. The red tom sent Tigerclaw crashing to the ground and pinned him, sinking his claws dangerously close the massive tabby’s throat. With a roar of fury, Tigerclaw thrust his hind legs upward into his attacker’s soft underbelly, catapulting the other tom into the air and sending him sprawling on his belly. Tigerclaw scrambled to his paws and leapt at the aggressor, dodging Darkstripe and his caterwauling opponent along the way. He landed on top of the red tom and raked his back with long, sharp claws, then took the tom’s scruff in his teeth and slammed his head onto the ground. “Oakheart!” Tigerclaw spat, slashing his claws across the red tom’s ear and slicing off the tip. “I should have known to expect Crookedstar to send his deputy rather than showing himself!”
Oakheart wriggled futilely in Tigerclaw’s grasp, but let out a strained chuckle. “Bluestar did the same,” he observed. Finally, he twisted his head around and sank his teeth into Tigerclaw’s foreleg, causing the tabby to rear back with a screech of pain. Oakheart shot up and the two began to circle each other as the battle raged around them.
“Bluestar sent a border patrol,” Tigerclaw snarled. “This was an ambush!”
“Don’t tell me ThunderClan wasn’t expecting this,” hissed Oakheart. “Or don’t you have a medic waiting in the bushes?” Suddenly, Oakheart diverted his attention from Tigerclaw and darted to the side, where the brown ThunderClan molly was slashing at a large black tom. He raked his claws across the molly’s face, eliciting a shriek of agony as the molly swung her head from side to side as blood flooded her eyes, rendering her unable to see her opponent.
Tigerclaw launched himself at Oakheart, snapping at his neck and narrowly missing. “Run to Ravenpaw, Mousefur!” he ordered the molly, and she nodded in terror and tore away into the underbrush, where Ravenpaw had remained hidden.
But Tigerclaw had become distracted by his Clanmate, and Oakheart slashed across his muzzle, missing his eyes by a whisker. Stunned, Tigerclaw could only stare at the RiverClan tom, while Oakheart gloated, “After tonight, Sunningrocks will be RiverClan’s once more!”
“I don’t think so!” screeched a voice. Tigerclaw swung his great head around to see Dustpaw spring at Oakheart, landing squarely on his shoulders and desperately clawing at his spine. Darkstripe raced to assist the younger tom, but it was too late. Oakheart had shrugged Dustpaw off of him and bowled over Darkstripe, sending the two toms rolling on the ground in a screeching ball of fur and claws.
While Tigerclaw charged after Oakheart to help Darkstripe, a sleek blue-gray molly and a younger silver tabby attacked Dustpaw, pushing him closer and closer to the swollen river. Redtail grabbed the silver tabby by the neck and flung her aside, while a calico molly clawed at the blue-gray cat, allowing Dustpaw to scramble to safety atop a rocky overhang, away from the river. The calico sank her teeth into her opponent’s throat and viciously clawed at her belly, snarling, “Stay away from him!”
But all of a sudden, a large gray tom sprang out of the fray toward the calico with a fearsome yowl. The calico whipped her head around to see the tom, and her eyes widened in terror, but it was too late. The large tom slammed into her, sending her flying towards the river. She landed just short of the water, but before she had time to struggle to her paws, the tom was on her, pushing her head into the river. The calico struggled in vain beneath her assailant’s paws, claws scrabbling madly at the ground beneath her as she fought for breath. As she cried for help, only a muffled mewl could be heard and a stream of bubbles came from her mouth.
Dustpaw stared in horror from his position on the overhang and tried to leap down to help the calico, but he was stopped by the small silver tabby who had attacked him before, now snarling and holding her ground. As Dustpaw struggled to fight off the silver tabby, he watched, horrified, as the calico slumped to the ground, twitched violently, and then stopped moving all together. The bubbles around her head disappeared, and she lay completely still. Slowly, as if in shock and horror, the large gray tom stumbled away from her, staring at her lifeless body.
“Mother!” shrieked Dustpaw, finally managing to shove past the silver tabby and racing to the calico. He grabbed her body by the scruff and pulled her from the river, gently laying her head on dry land. Hesitantly, he crouched beside her and licked her face, as if trying to wake her. “Mother, it’s okay,” he mewed softly, his voice breaking. “The RiverClanner is gone. You can stop pretending. Come on, please, stop. We need to fight!” His voice was rising in hysteria. “Mother! Come on! We have to fight! Sunningrocks is ours! Mom! Ravenpaw and Longtail and Frostfur and Brindleface and Father need you! I need you! MOTHER! PLEASE! GET UP!” By now, Dustpaw was screaming, and the gray RiverClan tom was staring in horror at the scene laid out before him.
“Murderer!” Redtail shrieked, launching himself at the gray tom and clawing furiously at his throat. The tom did not put up a fight, and blood slowly began to pour from wounds that Redtail inflicted. “You piece of shit! I’ll kill you! I’ll flay you alive, you mangy fish-eating piece of--”
But Redtail was stopped as Oakheart crashed into him, throwing him from the gray tom. The tom did not rise. Screeching, Redtail and Oakheart slashed at each other, now aiming to kill. And so the battle raged on, as screams filled the night.
