✵Chapter One ✵

     Briarpaw slunk through night shadows, cold air piercing through her soft fur. Her nostrils were wide, and ice-cold feeling. She stayed on the lookout for any night-wandering prey. She had promised to find some.

     Kits had gone without a meal that night, and Briarpaw had promised their mother that she would get them prey that day. But SkyClan's hunting grounds were as bare of prey as the air was bare of warmth. It was only leaf-fall, and already frigid air hung around and chilled the cats pelts. Leaves were bright golden and red, the colors of fire. Some were stiff and brown. Many had fallen, littering the paths and causing paw-pads to make a crunch-crunch-crunch noise when walking.

     Briarpaw had hunted all day, unsuccessfully. She came back to camp at dusk, with tail hanging dejectedly. There were two pieces of prey left. One queen was devouring a squirrel near the nursery, while the others looked on with concealed hunger in their gazes. Briarpaw had looked around for her sister, but didn't see her.

     A few kits came up to her unexpectedly, and one tiny, brownish tortoiseshell mewed in a raw little voice, "Do you have any prey for us? We didn't eat today..."

     "And mother is out of milk," one added. Briarpaw sucked in a breath. "No..." she had begun, but seeing their tiny faces fall, she hastily amended, "...t yet! I'm going out hunting again, and I'll bring back some prey for you." Looking up, she had met eyes with the kits mother. "I'll bring back food for them. I promise." The dappled queen's dark green eyes brightened, glistening with thanks. "Thank you..." She had murmured, then gathered her kits up.

     Quailfeather was the mother of the kits who had come to her, imploring for food. The dappled queen was so grateful for the promise of prey, and evidently trusted her to keep it. And the kits— she just couldn't bear the thought of them going hungry.

     So Briarpaw padded on through the silent, eerie night, a frigid breeze chilling her and a cold, black sky glaring down at her. The moon was gone tonight. Briarpaw's eyes were constantly open wide, and she jumped at any sound of movement. An owl passed overhead, uttering a chilling screech that startled Briarpaw. She shivered, and padded under a maple tree which had long, mostly bare branches. She had been out here, hunting unsuccessfully for what seemed like hours. "This is no good..." Briarpaw muttered to herself. "I've got to go somewhere else to find prey." Disliking the idea, she attempted—in vain, for the next hour to find prey within the clan boundaries. But it was no use. Finishing her idea, she thought I've got to go somewhere beyond clan territory. She gulped at the thought of leaving SkyClan territory. She would truly be on her own out there.

     Briarpaw pressed onward in the cold night, all alone. A scuttering noise caught her attention, and she jerked her head in the direction from which it came. Even with her night vision, all Briarpaw could see was black and gray and brown. The noise came from a scraggly bush to her right. Her nose, red from cold, picked up a delicious, mouth-watering scent.

     Rabbit! 

     Her ears perked up, her body crouched, and her tail flicked from side to side, slowly. Her blue-green eyes glowed in the dark as they darted back and forth, searching for the rabbit. She spotted it, shivering under the bush. Quickly taking stock of the situation, she saw thankfully that the ground here was not as leaf-littered as other places—and gave her less of a chance of startling the rabbit with crackling noises. Her legs bent, eyes narrowed, she crept forward. A sudden breeze ruffled her fur the wrong way and carried her scent to the rabbit, who sprang out of its bush and sprinted away. Briarpaw's mind screamed Run! and she burst into action, darting after the creature. The rabbit wove around and ran with incredible speed. Briarpaw charged after it, with a one track mind. Get the prey.

     She was so focused that she didn't even notice when she bolted past the SkyClan scent marker, and briefly crossed a stretch of WindClan territory. Headed into a patch of scraggly woods, she pursued the rabbit. Her legs ached and her lungs burned. Suddenly, the rabbit disappeared into a thick hedge of bushes. Briarpaw scrambled to a stop in order to not run into it, heart sinking. To her surprise, a millisecond later the rabbit came speeding out again with wide, frightened eyes— right into her paws. Outstretched claws pierced its body, and a quick jaw-jerk on its neck put and end to its misery.

     But Briarpaw was no fool. Struggling to quiet her panting, she scented the air with wide eyes and alert ears. Something had scared that rabbit back to her. Her loud breathing quieted, leaving behind a menacing silence. In the quiet, black wood, Briarpaw suddenly felt just how alone she was. She had gone far from her forest in her desperate dash to catch the rabbit.

     Branches that resembled a twoleg's thin, clawing paws stretched over her, interlocking and casting an even deeper shadow on the forest floor. Several spiky, brown leaves fluttered stiffly in a dry breeze that made the tree's branches creak. A few weak, throbbing stars were visible through the limbs. Other than that, there was no source of light. Briarpaw stood in what appeared to be a small glade mostly surrounded by thick juniper bushes—the only vegetation not bare and lifeless in this season. Dead grass stuck up every few fox-lengths, and rotten leaves littered the ground. The dull breeze carried several scents over to her, drifting out of the juniper bushes. With a kind of dreadful curiosity, Briarpaw left the rabbit where it was, and quietly approached the bushes.

     Taking the utmost care not to step on any leaves or twigs, she breathlessly came to a stop near the hedge, crouching in its pitch-black shadow. Scents wafted out, surprising her with their smell. She could scent the fishiness of RiverClan, as well as the woody, fern scent of ThunderClan. A fainter scent of WindClan met her nostrils, smelling of gorse and dry heather. A damp, pine-sappy odor alerted her of the presence of ShadowClan cats. Great StarClan, are cats from each clan all here? She wondered. But there was an absence of SkyClan scent—and Briarpaw would know if it was there, too. She had been raised there, despite the fact that her mother was not a SkyClan cat.

     Voices reached her ears; soft, yet somehow menacing. I'm probably being stupid. It's so dark and cold here, it's enough to make even a mouse's scuffling sound scary! Despite her uneasiness, Briarpaw stayed to listen. Her ears caught some of what was being said.

     "ThunderClan has two..."

     "But... about SkyClan?"

     "Spine will come... power... SkyClan."

     "...must stay secret for some time..."

     Briarpaw struggled to keep her breathing calm and quiet. The murmurings were growing increasingly concerning.

     "Deathberries will suffice..."

     The dark brown tabby stiffened and unsheathed her claws, her cyan eyes huge and glowing out into the night with fright.

    "...only needs one."

     "Fools. We will... change."

     Briarpaw listened with trepidation. What had they said about SkyClan? Something about a "spine" coming to power. But what did it mean? Well, one thing's for sure, she thought. They're not meeting here for any respectable reason. This is something twisted...

     She heard another bit of conversation, and smelled something new. It was a nasty, awful scent, mixed with cat. Briarpaw had smelled it before on the edges of her territory. Rogue.

     A sound of light stepping caught her attention to the right; and Briarpaw quickly realized with horror that the rogue—or rogues, as she could now tell, were near her, and seemed to be just joining the meeting. This keeps getting worse and worse! she thought, quietly edging away and into a cranny between bushes. More muttering ensued, and something more definite seemed to be talked about by the quiet voice of a tom, and the rogue.

     "Why must we wait?" The angry sound of the rogue speaking was heard by Briarpaw.

     "Shhh! What if someone is listening?" Some cat asked.

     "Oh, fox-dung. We're nowhere near clan territory, disguised our scent trail, and are out here in the middle of the night of no moon! No one's going to hear us, mouse-brains." A voice scoffed. Briarpaw's heart clenched. That settled it. For whatever awful reason they have, these clan cats are meeting here secretly with rogues to determine some plans they have for the clans.

     "Yeah, yeah—fine. We can talk in normal voices now."

     "Good."

     "So... how long will we wait?"

     "We've waited long enough! I'm not waiting till I'm too old and broken to do this—let my cats start joining now or you're on your own with this stupid plan." The rogue snarled angrily.

     Growls were heard, and more muttering. A strange bird fluttered overhead, startling the night gatherers into silence for a moment. Someone nervously meowed, "Maybe we should still whisper." A few mumbles ensued, and everyone seemed to agree with the proposal, shattering Briarpaw's plan to eavesdrop on them. After a few moments, Briarpaw gave a sudden start, and her eyes jumped wide open at the sound of all the cats putting their voices together to form an eerie, loud yowl.

     "Let the Burning Claws rise!" They wailed, the sound echoing through the air.

     Briarpaw stood up suddenly, scared to death what would happen next. She heard scuffling, and assumed they were done, and would now return to their clans. I can't be found!

     She leapt away and snatched up the rabbit, creeping off as quickly as possible. Panicked heartbeats thrummed against her rib cage, and blood pumped loudly in her ears. It was hard to keep the rushing adrenaline from taking over, and she used all her willpower to force her legs into submission. When she reached the moor, she burst into rapid bounds, allowing the violent hammering of her heart supply her muscles with a constant flow of fresh blood and energy. It was a miracle that she didn't lose track of her own scent that she was following back. Briarpaw did not stop running until she reached her camp.

     With shaking paw steps that she struggled to keep quiet, she entered through the barrier and padded into camp, breath ragged and rasping. She dragged the rabbit to the blank spot where fresh-kill usually lay; and on second thought, brought it to the nursery, and left it just inside the entrance. She didn't want anyone else to get it.

     Briarpaw silently padded over to the apprentices den, hoping no one would wake up. Sandpaw, Foxpaw, and Duskpaw would growl at me and tell me to be quiet. They'd think I was being kittish for going out in the night to hunt. They'd think I was a complete moron if I told them what I heard. She slipped into the den, lifting her paws high over sleeping apprentices to get to her nest. It lay in the very back near Swanpaw's, in the chilliest spot the den had to offer. The other apprentices took up the middle and warmest places. To them, Briarpaw and Swanpaw were just the kits who didn't matter. Well, we're not. She thought grumpily. We're apprentices training just as hard as they are to become warriors. It's not our fault our mother and father disobeyed the warrior code. It's not our fault our mother left us in SkyClan to be nursed by another queen. But still. Everyone dislikes or hates us just the same—they don't think about how it'd feel if they had to grow up like Swanpaw and I. We're probably lucky Bramblewood didn't disown us like Cypressfrost, she thought bitterly.

     Briarpaw's heart still battered wildly in her chest, like a trapped bird fluttering around inside her. She took deep breaths and slowed them as much as possible as she turned around in her nest several times. She tramped the moss down with her paws and forced her fur to lie flat once more. Letting out a soft sigh that seemed amplified by the silence of the den, Briarpaw sank into her nest, curling up with her back to Swanpaw. She closed her eyes, and wrapped her soft tail around her body, the end brushing her nose. Her heart slowed the tiniest bit, but her body still shook. She was already warm from her run, and the heat from her sister enveloped her, helping to calm her racing nerves. She couldn't seem to forget what she had overheard, and hated the way her body still trembled slightly from fear. The adrenaline had calmed down, allowing her muscles to slightly relax as she lay there. Concentrating on the sound of her own breathing, Briarpaw endeavored to fall asleep.

     But something did it for her. A peaceful, soothing mist entered her head; it felt somewhat suffocating, but it entranced her. Without knowing what happened, the thick fog induced her mind into sleep... Her thoughts suddenly went blank, her cyan eyes closed, and her shaking body stopped, relaxing to a motionless limp heap of brown tabby fur.

     If Briarpaw had been able to see herself, she would have thought she died.