Darktail turned a baleful gaze on her. “Don’t forget that you were once a ShadowClan cat,” he reminded her.
“I haven’t thought of myself as ShadowClan for a long time,” Sleekwhisker responded boldly. “I’m Kin now, through and through. I was one of the first cats to join you, while these other mange-pelts were ShadowClan right up to the time you took over the territory. And the sooner they leave, the better.”
She leaned over so that her pelt brushed Darktail’s, but the rogue leader turned a sharp glance on her, making her ease away.
“You shouldn’t wish for that!” Darktail snapped. “We need the ShadowClan cats. Even with our kittypet friends and our new Kin, we’re still outnumbered by the Clan warriors.”
That’s Darktail’s own fault, Violetpaw thought. He shouldn’t have done whatever he did to Dawnpelt and the others!
“Wow, I’m stuffed!” she exclaimed, rising to her paws and grabbing up the remains of her pigeon. “I can’t finish this,” she mumbled through the mouthful of feathers.
Darktail and the rest of his Kin seemed not to be paying any attention to her. Violetpaw carried the pigeon over to the refuse pile and dropped it there, her nose wrinkling at the stink of rotting crow-food.
This is disgusting, she thought. We never left food to rot in the ShadowClan camp.
With two territories in which to hunt, the Kin were never short of prey. Violetpaw was revolted by how much they wasted, especially when Darktail kept the prisoners starving.
Glancing over her shoulder to make sure that no cat was watching her, Violetpaw slipped through a clump of long grass and wriggled toward an elder bush where she had stashed a particularly fat vole. She had to claw her way through the tangled stems, taking so long to find it that, for a moment, she was afraid that some other creature had come by and stolen her prey.
Then she relaxed as she spotted the smooth curve of the vole’s pelt. Grabbing it in her jaws, she headed for the bramble thicket where the prisoners were guarded.
Violetpaw dropped the vole out of sight behind a rock, then strolled up to Zelda and Yarrowleaf, who were on guard. “Hi,” she meowed. “I’ll keep watch for a bit, if you want to go eat.”
Zelda’s eyes lit up, while Yarrowleaf swiped her tongue around her jaws. “Great!” she exclaimed. “My belly thinks my throat’s been torn out.”
Both she-cats vanished rapidly in the direction of the fresh-kill pile.
When they were gone, Violetpaw retrieved the vole and slid through the bramble tendrils until she reached the clear space in the middle of the thicket where the prisoners lived.
For a moment, none of them realized that Violetpaw was there. Icewing and Mintfur lay stretched out close together; Violetpaw could see every one of their ribs. Icewing’s wound showed red and angry, and Violetpaw realized that Puddleshine had not treated it with any medicine. He had not been allowed to. Reedwhisker was curled up asleep. Brackenpelt was trying to groom herself, but the effort of simply turning her head seemed to exhaust her. She flopped down, panting, on her side after a few feeble licks.
Needletail was pacing in the confined space, and as she turned, she spotted Violetpaw. “You again!” she muttered, padding up to her. “You shouldn’t take these kinds of risks. Darktail will have your fur off if he finds you here.”
“I’ve brought you some more food,” Violetpaw replied, dropping the vole at Needletail’s paws. Pain clawed at her heart as she saw how tired and defeated her friend looked. “And I’m careful. Darktail won’t find out. Come on, eat.”
Needletail fell on the prey and snatched it up, but instead of starting to eat, she carried it over to the RiverClan prisoners. Violetpaw stared in surprise, her heart warmed by her friend’s unselfishness.
“Violetpaw’s here again,” Needletail mewed. “She’s brought you some food.”
The RiverClan cats looked up listlessly, their interest suddenly sharpening as they caught the scent of vole.
“Thank StarClan!” Brackenpelt breathed out, her jaws starting to water.
Violetpaw watched as the prisoners devoured the vole; it was gone in a few heartbeats, and they only got a couple of mouthfuls each. She noticed that Needletail didn’t take any—she just looked on as the others ate.
“We can’t hang on like this,” Mintfur meowed when the last scrap of prey had vanished. “Darktail is the cruelest cat I’ve ever known.”
“Hush!” Brackenpelt gave Mintfur a warning prod. “Violetpaw is one of Darktail’s cats.”
“I don’t care!” Mintfur retorted. “Darktail is cruel.” She glared up at Violetpaw. “Tell him what I said, and let him do what he likes.”
“I won’t tell him anything,” Violetpaw responded. “I think he’s cruel, too.”
“So why do you follow him?” Reedwhisker asked, surprised.
“She doesn’t follow him, mouse-brain,” Needletail pointed out with an irritated twitch of her whiskers. “Would she bring you prey if she agreed with what Darktail is doing?”
“I made a mistake at first,” Violetpaw admitted. “I’m trying to think of a way to help you, and in the meantime I will keep bringing you food when I can.”
The RiverClan cats glanced at one another, and Violetpaw saw the first signs of hope beginning to dawn in their eyes. But before she could say any more she heard sounds from outside the thicket: paw steps and the voices of Zelda and Yarrowleaf.
“I’ve got to go,” she murmured, and slipped quickly out into the open again.
As Zelda and Yarrowleaf came up to her, Violetpaw noticed that Zelda was looking at her with an odd expression. I wonder whether she heard any of that.
Only the night before, in the nest they still shared, Violetpaw and Zelda had talked together long after darkness had fallen.
“I still want to go home to my housefolk,” Zelda had meowed, “but I don’t think that Darktail is ever going to let me.”
Violetpaw had been unable to find words to reply, knowing that Zelda was right: she was just as much a prisoner as the RiverClan cats.
Now Violetpaw wondered whether Zelda would betray her to Darktail if she knew that she was feeding the prisoners.
She might, just to get into his favor. I can’t risk trusting her.
Violetpaw met Zelda’s gaze, hoping to find some kind of clue in her eyes, but the kittypet’s expression was unreadable.
“Violetpaw!” Darktail’s voice cut across Violetpaw’s musings, making her jump. “Violetpaw, where are you?”
With a swift nod to Zelda and Yarrowleaf, Violetpaw bounded across the camp to where Darktail was standing with his Kin around him.
“There you are!” he meowed as Violetpaw ran up to him. “The fresh-kill pile is getting low. I want you to hunt.”
“Sure, Darktail.” Violetpaw kept her expression calm and obedient, but inwardly her heart was surging. This could be just the break I need!
Sunhigh was past when Violetpaw returned to the RiverClan camp and slung a rabbit on top of the growing fresh-kill pile. She had already brought back several mice and a squirrel.
One thing about living with the rogues, where every cat is always out for themselves, she reflected, it’s made me a better hunter.
Even though Clan cats usually hunted in patrols, the Kin often hunted alone so they wouldn’t have to share prey. This time, Violetpaw had insisted on going off by herself, knowing that Darktail wouldn’t question her. He’s been so nice to me ever since I betrayed Needletail, she thought with a shudder. And now that I’ve caught enough prey to impress him, I’ve got time for a trip of my own.