[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 18

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The days leading up to the next Gathering were uneventful, but Shadepool couldn't deny the tension that crept up on her Clanmates like an approaching predator. She didn't blame them, not when she felt it herself.

The last Gathering had changed so much around the lake, especially for ThunderClan. What if Mudstar had found some little excuse to declare outright war? The uncertainty felt like claws in Shadepool's throat, and she missed when Gatherings had been quieter, with only the occasional border crossing or theft to shake things up.

She had tried to see Crowflight almost every night that she could justify sneaking away - but she had found the stepping-stones empty each time. She prayed it was just his deputy duties keeping him away and not something worse.

I'll see him tonight, she told herself. Hopefully, we can find the time to talk... Who knew? Maybe tonight would be a return to form for Gatherings? After all, WindClan had only attacked ThunderClan the once, and that had been an independent plan, according to Crowflight...

“Shadepool, you there?”

Shadepool flinched out of her own head. She found herself staring right into Sorreltail's yellow eyes and, with a flash of embarrassment, realized that the tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat had been trying to ask her for something.

“S-Sorry,” Shadepool insisted, feeling flustered. “What was it you wanted?”

Sorreltail's whiskers twitched. “I told you, I'm feeling a little nauseous...” she prompted.

“Right, right,” Shadepool confirmed. “Some juniper ought to take care of it.” At least, she hoped it would - it was about all they had. She was about as tired of doling it out as she was sure her Clanmates were of having to eat it.

Her fur prickled as she ducked into the medicine store. If Brackenfur had caught her ignoring a patient, she'd have lost her whiskers! Thankfully, he was outside the cave, talking with Tinystar about who to bring to the Gathering.

Shadepool came out with a pair of berries and rolled them over to Sorreltail. “If you're not feeling better after these, come and see us again,” she instructed. She peered at her friend and added, “You're not showing any more serious symptoms, so it'll probably pass.”

Sorreltail gave the berries a sniff. “I hope so,” she sighed. “I'm already missing the Gathering tonight.” She lashed her tail in frustration. “I shouldn't have eaten that old chaffinch!”

Shadepool watched her friend lap up the medicine. Sorreltail's fur rippled at the taste, but she swallowed without complaint. She swiped her tongue across her muzzle and wondered, “You're going tonight, right?”

“Yes,” Shadepool answered.

“You'll have to tell me how it goes, then,” Sorreltail sighed. Something sparked in her eye, and she pleaded, “Please, be careful - WindClan might try to start something.”

Her worry touched Shadepool. She touched her muzzle to Sorreltail's ear and meowed, “It'll be fine. Besides, if StarClan tries to stop the Gathering and Mudstar goes against their wishes, it won't exactly help his case.”

“I suppose.” Sorreltail's tail still twitched with unease. “Still, watch yourself. We're not on the Great Journey anymore.”

Shadepool walked Sorreltail out of the cave, her own stomach turning at her Clanmate's words. Out in the clearing, in the deep red light of the evening, every warrior was gathered around Tinystar and Brackenfur, clamoring for a spot on the Gathering patrol.

When Sorreltail headed off to the warrior's den to rest, Shadepool sighed heavily, heading to the back of the crowd. She didn't need to sense her Clanmate's emotions to feel how they stirred her ear fur or clouded the air with their scent.

Sorreltail is right - the Great Journey feels like a lifetime ago now.

Her gaze rested on Nightfrost. Her littermate was with Mistyfoot and Rainwhisker, and she couldn't help but notice how troubled his expression was. The Great Journey and the friendships made then had meant so much to him - letting go of those bonds would hurt him most of all.

Shadepool tested the thorns between them again but did not press when she met resistance. He wasn't ready yet, and she still had no idea what to say. Instead, she turned her attention to her father, who was trying to divide up the Clan:

“Mousefur, you're staying behind to hold down the camp,” Tinystar meowed. “Cloudtail can help you.”

Mousefur made an annoyed sound, but Cloudtail piped up, “We'll keep things safe while you're gone, don't worry!”

Tinystar nodded to his niece in appreciation. Shadepool supposed that was a prudent choice - Dustpelt seemed to be going to the Gathering, and he and Mousefur often agreed with one another. Keeping the two apart would cause less drama, and Cloudtail was a good foil to keep things light at the camp.

“Cinderpelt, you're with me,” Tinystar decided. “Mistyfoot, you too. Ashfur, you can bring Larchpaw, but keep an eye on him with the other apprentices.”

His gaze scanned the crowd. Shadepool guessed that her father was trying to leave the camp with a strong enough team of warriors to defend it should Mudstar try something dirty - but taking too few warriors would make Tinystar look like he had something to hide. It was a difficult balance, and Shadepool didn't envy him the task.

“Rainwhisker, you didn't go last time, so you can come tonight,” Tinystar decided. “Swiftfoot, you're coming too, and... Nightfrost, you can join us. That should be enough.”

Shadepool found herself agreeing with her father's choices. WindClan had injured Rainwhisker, so if Tinystar brought it up, he would help make a strong case. Swiftfoot was the Clan's strongest fighter, but he made Tinystar seem confident if he was away from camp. Nightfrost was friendly with cats in all the Clans, and bringing him could help smooth any rough conversations.

“Tinystar,” a quiet voice meowed, “may I come?”

It was Ferncloud. Shadepool saw her father considering it, and then he nodded. Ferncloud's eyes shimmered, and Shadepool was surprised at the queen's ingenuity - ThunderClan had no active queens at the moment, but bringing a gentle mother like Ferncloud would help show ThunderClan had security in itself. Not only that, but Ferncloud, like Nightfrost, had friends in all the Clans' queens, and she probably wanted to watch out for Larchpaw since Snowstep was staying behind.

“Alright, the party is decided,” Tinystar meowed sharply. “Everyone who wasn't chosen is to stay behind and guard the camp. Mousefur, Cloudtail, set up sentries along the hollow's edge.”

“Will do,” Mousefur grunted.

“StarClan willing, we won't need them,” Tinystar sighed.

“Better safe than sorry,” Graystripe assured. He nudged Tinystar and urged, “You should get going - the moon is going to rise soon.”

Tinystar nodded. He lifted his tail, and the crowd parted to let the Gathering patrol through. Shadepool joined Brackenfur just behind Tinystar, nerves wiring the places where her fur and skin met. She glanced at her mentor, wondering what he was thinking, and found that he had his gaze fixed straight ahead.

Heart thudding, Shadepool decided to do the same.

———————————————————

ThunderClan was the last to arrive at the Gathering, despite them leaving early - having to take the long way around through ShadowClan's and RiverClan's territories made it so when they leaped from the cedar tree-bridge and onto the island's shore, the other three Clans were already mingling, and the clearing was filled with conversations that stopped abruptly at their appearance.

“Yikes,” muttered Rainwhisker. “Do we stink or something?”

Dustpelt nudged him, giving the younger warrior a cross look.

Shadepool twitched her whiskers. At least some cat was trying to make light of things - the trip here had been quiet and serious, a marching trot meant to get them to the island as fast as possible and keep the other Clans from getting upset at their presence in their lands.

Many of the cats in the crowd shrugged their shoulders and resumed their conversations after Rainwhisker's remark. Only some of the cats stopped talking to glare at the ThunderClan party - Shadepool noted with a chill that they were almost all WindClan, with a few RiverClan and ShadowClan eyes narrowed in solidarity.

“The meeting will start soon,” Tinystar meowed quietly. His icy eyes flashed especially to Dustpelt and Swiftfoot. “Don't start anything.”

He slipped into the crowd, and the patrol broke apart. Brackenfur immediately went to join the other medicine cats, while Duspelt and Cinderpelt found Oakfur of ShadowClan and joined his conversation. Larchpaw headed for a group of apprentices, prompted by Ashfur, who lingered close by.

Shadepool heard a squeal and got to her paws, alarmed, but quickly realized that it was Larchpaw, who was tackled by two ShadowClan apprentices. They were licking him all over, purring, much to the disgust of the other older apprentices watching. Shadepool let her fur lie flat, but her heart still thudded hard in her ears, and Ashfur looked like he might expire.

Rainwhisker, Nightfrost, and Mistyfoot met Stoneheart and his friend Pinewhisker in the crowd, and the group immediately sat together to talk. Ferncloud trotted past them, heading for a cluster of queens - she brushed noses with Dawnflower of RiverClan immediately.

“You made it!” she breathed happily, barely in Shadepool's hearing range. “How are the kits...?”

Shadepool didn't need to overhear their conversation. Instead, she found herself curious, staring at the gathered crowd. She thought back to the tuft of gray fur, and though she knew Tinystar had been right, it really, truly hit her just then - most of the cats in this crowd were gray-furred. There was no way to make a concrete accusation based on fur color alone. Something about that was comforting, though it still upset her.

Shadepool swallowed back her thoughts. Everything seemed to be going well, other than the WindClan cats avoiding the ThunderClan party like they were plagued. Shadepool supposed she shouldn't have hoped for more. She thanked StarClan that there didn't seem to be any outright fighting.

“You should join the other medicine cats,” said a quiet voice. “We're due to start soon.”

Shadepool felt his pelt brush against hers and breathed in his scent. Her heartbeat steadied, and she resisted the urge to sigh happily, conscious of how many cats were around her.

She meowed cordially, “It's good to see you, Crowflight. How are things?” She couldn't help but glance his way, trying to seem nonchalant, like a medicine cat above it all.

The look in Crowflight's eyes caught her off-guard. They were dark, like the lake's depths, deep and drowning. Shadepool couldn't help her own eyes widening a touch as her stomach sank.

Something's happened. Crowflight wouldn't risk approaching her at a Gathering, so out in the open, unless it was serious. He was smarter than that, or at least usually with cats who were smarter than that. He was giving her a very clear warning.

Shadepool dipped her head to him respectfully and split away. She tried not to hurry to the other medicine cats, or else they might think Crowflight had purposefully scared her - which he had somewhat. It was so difficult a line to walk, and she couldn't help but stumble as she clambered over the massive, tangled roots of the Great Oak.

“You okay?” Mothwing asked as Shadepool crawled up to her side.

Shadepool looked up at the beautiful she-cat and came up with the excuse easily enough: “It was a long walk.”

Mothwing's eyes glinted, and her tone was sympathetic: “I can imagine.”

Shadepool's mouth felt dry, and she tried not to see Crowflight's dark shape as it slid through the crowd toward the other deputies. The leaders were already in the tree branches, with Mudstar and Tinystar as far apart as they could manage to be and Leopardstar and Russetstar between them like a barrier.

“How're things in RiverClan?” Shadepool asked, pelt prickling.

Mothwing's whiskers twitched. “Well, they're okay, for the most part,” she mewed. Her tail wrapped around her paws. “We've had a few scrapes, but nothing serious.”

“That's good,” Shadepool breathed. “ThunderClan's been okay, too.”

She glanced at Brackenfur, who was with Littlecloud and Ryewhisper. The three medicine cats were huddled together, but it seemed like Ryewhisper was very uncomfortable, and his jaws seemed locked tight.

Mothwing made a noise in her throat. “They've been bothering him the whole time,” she mumbled. “Poor thing.”

Shadepool nodded in agreement. Her heart thudded in her ears, and she found herself staring holes into her mentor. The only other cat who might know what had happened to Onewhisker's spirit was Ryewhisper - was he trying to find out what the WindClan cat knew? Had he told Littlecloud and Mothwing?

No, he must not have, Shadepool thought. Both medicine cats would be a lot more freaked out if he had.

“He's surely got enough to deal with,” Mothwing continued, oblivious. “Can you imagine a cat as nervous as Ryewhisper having to listen to Mudstar?”

Shadepool shook her head. “I don't know how he's managing...”

“I guess we'll find out,” Mothwing yawned. She nodded up at the branches of the tree. “They're getting ready to start.”

Leopardstar's yowl sounded just a heartbeat later, clear and loud: “Cats of the four Clans, in the light of the full moon, we Gather as one! Be silent, and listen!”

The clearing went quiet, with all heads turning to the Great Oak, ears and eyes turned to silver by the moonlight. Only the rattle of the surrounding trees could be heard as Leopardstar scanned the island for any spare conversations she might have to silence.

When she was satisfied, she began: “RiverClan has been prosperous this past moon! Falcontail and Heronleap bravely drove off a curious badger, and despite the cold grip of leafbare, the prey runs well. RiverClan is full and happy.”

Shadepool glanced at Mothwing, shocked. “Your brother drove off a badger?” she hissed.

She expected pride from Mothwing, but the she-cat's muzzle twitched into a grimace. “He did,” she mumbled quietly, “but Heronleap nearly lost his muzzle for it. He's healing well, but going two-on-one with a badger like that was reckless.”

Shadepool glanced up at Leopardstar and supposed that a proud she-cat like her wouldn't want to mention that.

It was Russetstar's turn. The dark ginger she-cat stood tall as she announced, “Prey runs well in ShadowClan's territory: Nightwing has moved to the nursery, and I am proud to announce that we have two new apprentices with us tonight - Willowpaw and Rushpaw!”

“Willowpaw! Rushpaw!” the Clans cheered.

Shadepool glanced over at the apprentices and suddenly recognized the two ShadowClan cats that had tackled Larchpaw so happily - Finchsong's kits looked so different now that they were 'paws, having lost their kitten-fluff. The three young cats had been almost inseparable on the Great Journey.

No wonder they were so glad to see each other, Shadepool thought warmly, happy that some remnant of the Great Journey's friendships had remained.

“Willowpaw has been apprenticed to Pinewhisker,” Russetstar meowed on, “while Stoneheart has taken on the honor of mentoring Rushpaw.”

Shadepool's eyes widened. Though the Clans didn't cheer for the mentors, she couldn't help but purr, her eyes stinging with pride - Stoneheart, with an apprentice? She couldn't think of any cat in ShadowClan who deserved one more!

Shadepool spotted Mistyfoot in the crowd. She was with her brother, congratulating him alongside Nightfrost - but Shadepool couldn't help but wonder how she was feeling. First, Ashfur had been given an apprentice, and now her brother... There were no new kits in ThunderClan. Was she feeling left behind?

“Good for them!” Mothwing purred. She glanced down at Shadepool and wondered, “Stoneheart is a good mentor, right?”

Shadepool nodded. “He taught me some moves on our trip to the lake,” she answered. The memories tickled her fondly. “Thankfully, I've not had to use them yet.”

Mothwing sighed. “It's a good thing for a medicine cat to know,” she said simply. “Just because we're healers doesn't mean we can't defend ourselves!”

“Do you still practice your warrior moves?” Shadepool asked, tilting her head.

Mothwing nodded, her gaze serious. “I've got to keep my claws sharp - you never know!”

Finally, it was Tinystar's turn: “ThunderClan has little to report. Despite it being leafbare, our land has treated us well, with plentiful prey and shelter from the cold. My warriors are ready to face any new challenge - especially with Ashfur training Larchpaw, our newest apprentice.”

“Larchpaw! Larchpaw!” Though no cat in WindClan cheered, Rushpaw's and Willowpaw's voices were loud enough to be a Gathering on their own, and Larchpaw seemed happy at their praise.

Shadepool couldn't help but tremble, staring up at her father as the cheering died. Was he going to mention the WindClan ambush?

Tinystar, however, dipped his head to Mudstar, and settled back down on his branch, a dark shadow in the oak.

Shadepool swallowed. So he was going to hold onto the information, then - perhaps he was trying to give Mudstar the benefit of the doubt in case it escalated things too far? In the crowd, she could see Rainwhisker looking perturbed until Mistyfoot calmed him with some quiet words.

Mudstar came forward, still balancing awkwardly on his leg injury, which seemed to be as healed as possible, to Shadepool's eye. The WindClan leader would likely have a permanent limp for the rest of his life - possibly as severe as Brackenfur's thanks to his advanced age.

Mudstar's sharp eyes scanned the clearing, and every cat held their breath. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? He had made the last Gathering an event to be remembered, after all - was he going to do the same tonight?

The sky was clear, and Shadepool flexed her claws in anticipation. Whatever Mudstar was planning, she wished he'd get on with it.

“Last Gathering, WindClan did not have a chance to welcome our newest warrior.” Mudstar's voice was a thin rasp with the barest hint of a snarl. “I would like to rectify that - Thornpaw has become Thorndusk!”

“Thorndusk! Thorndusk!”

The WindClan warriors cheered the loudest, though Shadepool spotted a young gray ShadowClan warrior's shining eyes as he stared into the crowd at a cat Shadepool couldn't see.

Mothwing made a noise. “How sweet,” she murmured. “She was named after Duskflower!”

Shadepool recalled then who Thorndusk was and nodded in agreement. Thorndusk had been an apprentice on the Great Journey and had gotten terribly injured in the mountains. The ShadowClan queen Duskflower had saved her life by sacrificing her own. It was strange for a warrior to be named after a cat from another Clan, but that sacrifice must've meant a lot to Thorndusk.

“Robinwing has also given birth to a strong litter of four kits,” Mudstar meowed as the crowd quieted. “Their names are Blizzardkit, Galekit, Sleetkit, and Ashkit.”

The crowd called out the names, and Shadepool glanced over at Crowflight. She didn't know this Robinwing, but how did Crowflight feel about her naming one of her kits after his mother?

“Good news for WindClan,” Mothwing sighed, oblivious again. “Four kits! That's wonderful!”

“How are they?” Littlecloud asked Ryewhisper, perhaps hoping he would answer that question, at least.

Ryewhisper did not respond. Littlecloud glanced at Brackenfur, who sighed quietly.

Shadepool wasn't surprised, though. Ryewhisper looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but where he was right now.

Still, things seem to be going well for WindClan, she thought. Maybe Mudstar really is good for them. He hasn't even mentioned Onewhisker... She stared over at Crowflight, recalling the look in his eyes. Had that been her imagination?

Mudstar, however, was not done: “WindClan has one more announcement to make.” His voice had gone broken and rusty. “As you all know, when Onewhisker and Barkface were ambushed, Barkface survived with several injuries.”

He lifted his graying muzzle. “I come here tonight to tell you that Barkface has joined his warrior ancestors in StarClan. He passed on two nights ago, just as the moon turned full.”

Just like at the last Gathering, the entire world seemed to jolt to a stop. So powerful a feeling it was, Shadepool felt as if all the breath had been driven from her lungs.

Barkface is dead?!

She looked down at Ryewhisper. No wonder he hadn't said a word tonight!

“That's terrible,” Leopardstar sighed. She shook her muzzle, her gaze glazed with sorrow. “He was a noble cat.”

“StarClan will welcome him,” agreed Russetstar

Tinystar shifted on his branch. “Mudstar,” he murmured, “I'm so sorry.”

Mudstar squared his shoulders. “Keep your sorrow, ThunderClan,” he growled softly. “You have no idea how much he suffered because of what you did!”

The mood of the clearing shifted immediately. Once again, tension filled the air, and Shadepool watched the crowd shift, splitting into four Clans again. Shadepool's heart sank - all Mudstar had to do was accept Tinystar's words, but of course he just couldn't!

She looked up at the sky. No clouds, not yet. Her tail trembled.

“Is it true?” Brackenfur wondered, his rasping voice bringing Shadepool's muzzle down again. “Did he suffer?”

The medicine cats leaned in towards Ryewhisper expectantly. The WindClan medicine cat shivered.

“I tried to keep him comfortable as best as I could,” Ryewhisper mumbled, finally. He seemed to sink into himself. “He was delirious from fever and pain in the end.”

“Did he say anything?” Littlecloud wondered. His small ears flattened. “Anything at all?”

Ryewhisper shook his head. “Nothing that made sense,” he admitted. The thin tom hunched his shoulders. “He mumbled of shadows and pain. That's all I could make out.”

Shadepool's heart crept into her throat, and she locked eyes with Brackenfur. Shadows and pain? Did that mean what she thought it meant?

Her ears were buzzing. She was vaguely aware of the cats in the clearing clamoring chaotically, but she was so far removed from that now. All she could think of were the shadow-cats, and that Barkface might have seen them, too, in his final moments. If they had come for him and not a cat from StarClan... Was that what had happened to Onewhisker?

I have to find Barkface's spirit!

“Shadepool?” Mothwing's voice cut into the noise. “Are you okay?”

Shadepool blinked, realizing that her claws had been tearing at the root she was perched on. She forced herself to unclench, unsure how to answer Mothwing without spilling everything - so, instead, she stared at Brackenfur, willing him to know what it was she needed to do without her having to say.

He looked up from Ryewhisper and stared back at her, but his look was so severe that it was, without a doubt, a refusal. If he could speak, she was sure he would tell her to wait, to stay put for now.

Shadepool felt like she was about to vibrate out of her pelt. We don't have time to wait! She wanted to scream at him. What good had waiting done so far? What good did waiting ever do?

There was a yowl in the crowd. Vaguely, she recognized Swiftfoot's voice and saw a flash of white. The cats in the clearing shuffled, some screeching, as a tussle broke out amidst them.

“That's enough!” Tinystar yowled. His eyes blazed like stars. “Swiftfoot!”

Brackenfur tore himself away from the medicine cats. “Have you no self-control?” he snarled. He stomped into the crowd, the fur along his spine bristling. “Starting a fight at a Gathering! Your ancestors would be ashamed of you!”

Shadepool flattened her ears. Everything was devolving. Mudstar was flinging accusations, and Tinystar was flinging them back. Littlecloud joined Brackenfur in an attempt to quell the fighting. Tawnypelt and Crowflight stepped in to pull apart Swiftfoot and his opponent, Softbreeze, but another fight started just beside them as Dustpelt pounced on Crowflight, accusing him of trying to hurt his Clanmate.

Shadepool's ears rang as Crowflight and Dustpelt rolled across the clearing, claws and teeth flashing. Stoneheart and Mistyfoot separated the two, with Nightfrost pressing himself between them, begging them all to stop.

“Shadepool...” Mothwing mewed hesitantly.

Shadepool felt sick. The tang of blood was in the air, but the sky was still clear. She met Mothwing's gaze. The golden she-cat was just as terrified, her claws unsheathed as if she might have to defend herself at any moment.

“I have to go,” Shadepool meowed, her voice a strained whisper. “There's something I need to do. I can't tell you why right now, but-” She hesitated, her mouth dry. “But I will. I promise.”

Mothwing's eyes flashed. “Do it,” she said, swallowing. “Go. Get out of here! I'll cover for you.

Shadepool was shocked - she'd expected the RiverClan she-cat to at least question what it was she intended. Shadepool touched her nose to Mothwing's, filled with love for her friend. “I'll owe you,” she promised.

“This Gathering is over!” Leopardstar snarled, her voice resonating powerfully. “Mudstar, Tinystar, control your warriors!” The moonlight highlighted her dappled body as she leaped into the throng of tussling warriors.

Shadepool didn't see what happened next. She tore away from Mothwing and the others, leaping into the undergrowth that ringed the clearing. She crossed the tree-bridge without thinking much about where she was putting her paws - she could've landed in the lake and not missed a step.

As soon as she touched down on the opposite shore, she ran across the stony marsh as fast as her paws would take her.