|| The Prophecies Begin || Book 1 Of 6 || Warriors fanfic

~~Chapter 20~~

"Yellowfang has killed Spottedleaf and taken my kits!" screeched Frostfur. The other queens rushed to Frostfur's side and tried to calm her with licks and caresses, but Frostfur pushed them away and wailed her grief to the darkening sky. As if in reply, the sky rumbled ominously and a cold wind ruffled the cats' fur.

"Yellowfang!" hissed Tigerclaw. "I always knew she was a traitor. Now we know how she managed to fight off the ShadowClan deputy. It was a setup to let her trick her way into our Clan!"

Lightning crackled overhead, punctuating Tigerclaw's words with a glaring white flash, and a clap of thunder rolled around the woods.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Dazed with grief, my mind whirled. Could Yellowfang really have killed Spottedleaf?

Above the shocked murmurings, Darkstripe meowed loudly, "Bluestar! What do you say?"

The cats fell silent as they turned to look at their leader.

Bluestar's gaze moved across the crowd of cats, and settled finally on Spottedleaf's body. The first drops of rain began to fall, sparkling like dewdrops on the medicine cat's still-glossy fur.

Bluestar blinked slowly. Grief clouded her face, and for a moment I was afraid that this new death would overwhelm her. But when her eyes opened they glittered with a fierceness that showed her determination to seek revenge for this cruel attack. She lifted her head. "If Yellowfang has killed Spottedleaf and stolen Frostfur's kits, she will be hunted down without mercy." The crowd meowed approvingly. "But we must wait," Bluestar went on. "There is a storm coming, and I am not prepared to risk more lives. If ShadowClan has our kits, they will come to no immediate harm. I suspect Brokenstar wants them as recruits for his own Clan, or as hostages-to force us to let him hunt in our territory. As soon as the storm has passed, a patrol will follow Yellowfang and bring back our kits."

"We cannot waste time, or the scent will be lost in the rain!" Tigerclaw protested.

Bluestar flicked her tail impatiently. "If we send out a hunting party now, our efforts will be wasted anyway. In this weather the scent will already be lost by the time we are ready. If we wait until after the storm, we stand a better chance of success."

There were murmurs of agreement among the Clan. Even though it was barely sunhigh, the sky was growing much darker. The cats were unsettled by the lightning and thunder, and seemed willing to listen to their leader's advice.

Bluestar looked at her deputy. "I'd like to discuss our plans with you, please, Tigerclaw." Tigerclaw nodded and stalked away toward Bluestar's den, but the leader hesitated. She glanced at me, signaling with a flick of her tail and a ripple of her whiskers that she wanted to speak to Firepaw and I alone.

The other cats gathered around Spottedleaf and began to share tongues with her, their wails of grief sounding above the thunder. Bluestar wound her way through them and went toward the fern tunnel that led to Spottedleaf's den.

Firepaw and I quietly skirted the mourning cats and followed her inside. It was very dark beneath the ferns. The storm had blotted out the morning sun so that it seemed as if night had fallen. Rain was falling more heavily now, spattering noisily against the leaves, but at least it was sheltered in Spottedleaf's clearing.

"Firepaw, Moonpaw," Bluestar meowed urgently as he arrived at her side, "where is Yellowfang? Do you know?"

Firepaw seemed to hardly heard her.

"Firepaw," snapped Bluestar, "you must save your grieving for later."

Firepaw shook himself. "I . . . I saw Yellowfang go through the camp boundary after the kits went missing. Do you really think she killed Spottedleaf and took the kits?"