A mistake? Mapleshade almost winced at the pain in Appledusk’s pale green eyes. Almost, but not quite. The ice was spreading through her faster than a leaf-bare frost. Soon I won’t be able to feel anything, she thought.
“I should never have betrayed my Clan by meeting with Mapleshade,” Appledusk went on. “I will regret it for the rest of my life, and I can only beg for your forgiveness.”
“What brought these kits here tonight?” Darkstar queried, looking down at the three pitiful shapes.
Mapleshade opened her mouth to explain but Appledusk spoke first. “Mapleshade’s Clanmates learned the truth and she had to leave. The river is flooded and the kits were too young to swim across.” His voice faltered. Mapleshade stared at him. You’re making it sound as if this was my fault!
Darkstar mewed, “The loss of any kits is a loss to all of us. But you broke the warrior code, Appledusk. How can I ever trust you again?”
Reedshine padded forward until she was standing alongside Appledusk with her fur brushing his.
“There is no cat more loyal to RiverClan than Appledusk,” she declared. “If I am willing to forgive him for his past mistakes, then so should you, Darkstar.”
There were murmurs from the cats at the edge of the clearing. They sounded impressed by Reedshine’s confidence.
Darkstar waited until the clearing was silent again, then nodded. “This is not the season for losing warriors. Appledusk, I believe that you are sorry for what you did, and that you have been punished enough by the death of your kits. I will allow you to remain in RiverClan—but know that I and the rest of the Clanmates will be watching you. You will have to earn back our trust.”
Appledusk dipped his head so low that his muzzle almost touched the reeds beneath his paws. “I will never forget your mercy, Darkstar,” he murmured. “Thank you. I promise my loyalty lies only with RiverClan, and my Clanmates.” He glanced sideways at Reedshine, who blinked at him.
Darkstar gestured with her tail. “Rainfall, help Splashfoot and Eeltail to bury these kits. The accident of their birth is not their fault. They may lie in peace in our territory now.”
Mapleshade struggled to find her voice. “What… what about me?” she croaked. “May I stay here with my kits?”
The RiverClan leader stared at her. “No, you may not. You will leave this territory at once and never set foot across the border again. Like Appledusk, I believe that the loss of your kits is punishment enough. Otherwise, rest assured my warriors would have clawed your fur off for what you have done.”
“But night is falling!” Mapleshade protested. “Where will I go? Appledusk, help me!”
The pale brown warrior shook his head. “Why should I? It’s your fault that these kits are dead. I never want to see you again.”
Reedshine pressed herself even closer to Appledusk’s flank. “Go away, Mapleshade,” she hissed.
“You have caused enough trouble tonight.”
Mapleshade looked down at her drowned kits. “I cannot leave them,” she whispered. “They are everything to me.”
“And now they are dead,” Appledusk growled. “Be thankful we have shown you some mercy, Mapleshade. Get out, before we make you leave.”
Mapleshade stared at the cat whose face had occupied her mind for so many moons. She thought she had known every swirl of his fur, the angle of every whisker, but now she didn’t recognize him at all. The coldness swelled inside her until she felt it burst out of her eyes, and there was a jolt of satisfaction as Appledusk flinched away from her gaze. “You told me you loved me!” Mapleshade hissed. “I went through the agony of bearing your kits! And now you treat me worse than prey. You will regret this, Appledusk. That is my last promise to you.”
She turned and stumbled out of the clearing, blindly following paths through the reeds until she reached scent markers that suggested she was at the RiverClan boundary. She was dimly aware of crossing hard gray stone, then a massive shape loomed out of the shadows, a sharp-edged Twoleg den of some sort. She found a hole in the wall and slipped through into a musty, hay-scented space.
Mapleshade slumped down on a clump of dusty dried stalks and shut her eyes. Sleep dragged her away, and her dreams were filled with the sight of her kits spiraling away from her in churning black water, screeching for help that never came.
Chapter 5
Mapleshade fought her way out of sleep, coughing and scorched with fever. Where am I? She struggled out of her prickly nest and looked around. A fresh-killed mouse lay beside her, and Mapleshade’s belly rumbled. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten. She bent down to take a bite, then the memory of where she was and what had happened flooded over her and she retched violently. My kits! Appledusk!
“Hello? Are you all right?” An anxious mew made Mapleshade look up. A small black-and-white tom was standing at the foot of the huge stack of hay that filled the den. Daylight filtered through cracks in the wooden walls, highlighting tiny specks of dust that floated in the air.
“Where am I? Who are you?” Mapleshade rasped.
The little cat picked up a bundle of dripping moss that lay at his paws and carried it over to her.
“You need to drink,” he urged. “My name is Myler, and this is my barn. You went to sleep so quickly last night that I didn’t have time to introduce myself. How are you feeling?” He peered at her and Mapleshade shied away. “You still look exhausted,” Myler observed. “Eat the mouse, then I’ll let you get some more rest.
“I’m not staying,” Mapleshade hissed. “I don’t want your fresh-kill.”
“But there’s plenty to share,” Myler insisted. “I can catch more for myself, don’t worry.”
Mapleshade staggered forward, almost knocking the tom off his paws. “Leave me alone,” she growled. “I don’t need your help.”
She searched for the gap in the wall where she had come in. Behind her, Myler was meowing something about giving shelter to strangers and having plenty of room in the barn. Mapleshade didn’t bother to listen. What could some kittypet possibly give to her? My life is ruined! I did nothing wrong, and yet I have lost everything! The image of her three dead kits hovered at the edge of her vision, as if she would be able to see them clearly if only she could turn her head fast enough. Mama, help me! they wailed.
“I can’t,” Mapleshade whispered. “Oh my precious loves, I am so sorry.”
Trembling with hunger, Mapleshade plunged into the wispy undergrowth that edged RiverClan’s territory. She stayed well clear of the border as she headed uphill, toward the gorge. She knew there was a wooden Twoleg bridge just below the sheer walls of rock where she would be able to cross back to ThunderClan territory. She felt an irresistible pull inside her, back to the place where she had spent her whole life. There was no solace in the spindly willows of RiverClan, and the vast open moor that stretched up above the gorge made her shudder with fear. Instead she yearned for the denseness of sturdy trees and thick green undergrowth rooting her to the ground, filling her senses with familiar sounds and scents.
Mapleshade reached the wooden bridge and raced across, ears flattened and fur spiked. The noise of the river tumbling below dragged her mind back to the moment she had let go of Patchkit. The water was too strong! It was not my fault that my kits died, she reminded herself. She jumped off the bridge onto dry, sandy ground that sloped up toward Four Trees directly in front of her. If she turned and followed the river downstream, she would be in ThunderClan territory. Trying to ignore the sound of the water, she took a few steps toward the boundary, already tasting the scent markers on the still air.