Violetpaw’s purr faltered as she caught sight of Spikefur. He was hanging back at the edge of the clearing, his shoulders stiff. Mistcloud stood beside him. The warriors’ eyes were dark. Why weren’t they hurry ing to j oin the others?
“Scorchfur, Sparrowtail.” Rowanstar went on, apparently unaware that som e of the cats he had named weren’t m oving from their place.
Scorchfur glowered at the ShadowClan leader. “We’re not coming.” His y owl cut across the moonlit camp like a claw slicing through the darkness.
Tigerheart and Tawny pelt j erked their m uzzles toward the dark gray tom. Dawnpelt turned to face him.
Violetpaw stared in disbelief as Spikefur, Sparrowtail, Mistcloud, and Rippletail padded to join Scorchfur. They glared m alevolently at Rowanstar.
Scorchfur lashed his tail. “Why should we m eet with the Clans who refused to help us?”
Spikefur hissed. “They were prepared to let us die!”
Rowanstar pushed between Tawny pelt and Tigerheart, stopping short of the rebellious warriors. “I am the leader of ShadowClan, and I say we’re going.”
Scorchfur huffed. “Where were you when Crowfrost handed our hostage over to ThunderClan without a fight?”
“Holding an apprentice hostage wasn’t going to change any thing,” Rowanstar retorted.
Tawny pelt had told the ShadowClan leader what had happened while he was ill. “Sickness is no excuse for a Clan to act like rogues.”
“And how do rogues act?” Spikefur stepped forward. “Do they withhold herbs while innocent cats die? Or is that just Clan cats?”
Mistcloud’s ears twitched. “Onestar behaved badly and the other Clans let him. We are not like them. We don’t want to be like them.”
Rowanstar’s eyes rounded sy m pathetically. “If you want to air y our grievances, come to the Gathering. Speak with the other Clans. Perhaps we can make them see that they’ve treated us badly.”
“Words didn’t work before,” Scorchfur snarled. “Why should they work now?”
“I’ll speak to them for y ou.” Rowanstar’s tone was conciliatory. “You can stay here and I will report back what they said.”
Scorchfur narrowed his eyes to threatening slits. “If you go to the Gathering, don’t bother coming back,” he hissed. “ShadowClan doesn’t need a leader as weak as y ou.”
As he spoke, Spikefur turned toward the entrance to the camp.
Violetpaw’s heart lurched as she saw shadowy figures stream ing into the clearing. She tasted rogue scent, and as the shapes m oved into the moonlight, she recognized Darktail, Rain, Raven, and the rest of their campmates. Violetpaw felt sick. Needletail was with them, and Sleekwhisker and Cloverfoot. Every cat from the rogue camp was here except Beenose. Had she left them?
Had the sickness killed her?
Violetpaw pressed against Dawnpelt, asham ed of her trem bling paws. What are they doing here? Why have they come?
Spikefur padded to greet the rogues, dipping his head to Darktail before turning back to Rowanstar. “We need new leadership,” he growled. “Strong leadership.”
Rowanstar’s eyes sparked with fury. He glared at Spikefur, and then his gaze flitted angrily around the rebellious cats before resting finally on Darktail. “Are you suggesting that we give our Clan over to rogues?” His mew was icy.
Violetpaw saw the m uscles rippling across Rowanstar’s shoulders. His ribs still showed through his pelt from the illness, but as his hackles rose, she remembered what a fierce warrior he was.
He faced Darktail. “You will take this Clan over m y dead body.”
Delight sparked in Darktail’s gaze. “That sounds fair.”
The rogue leader flung him self at Rowanstar.
Violetpaw gasped.
Rowanstar reared, but the force of Darktail’s attack pushed him back. Rowanstar’s hind legs trem bled as he dug his paws into the earth and braced him self against the snarling rogue. Ey es flashing, Darktail turned his head and bit into the ShadowClan leader’s neck.
Rowanstar grunted, twisting beneath Darktail as he tried to shake him off. But the ShadowClan leader must have lost his balance. With a j erk, Darktail flipped him onto his side, jaws still gripping his neck.
Help him! Violetpaw stared at her Clanmates. They drew closer, their eyes wide with shock.
Why doesn’t someone help? Her gaze flitted from the Clan cats to the rogues. Needletail, where are you? But as soon as she spotted her friend, she knew she would not stop the attack. Needletail was watching the attack with excitement—just like the rest of the rogues.
Rowanstar hissed, struggling free from Darktail’s grip. He turned on the rogue leader, but Darktail was quicker. He dived beneath Rowanstar’s belly and heaved him off his paws. As
Rowanstar fell, Darktail lashed out, slicing the ShadowClan leader’s m uzzle. Blood splashed across the clearing, shining darkly in the moonlight.
Tigerheart snarled and leaped at the rogue leader.
At last! Violetpaw leaned forward, blood roaring in her ears.
Tawny pelt hurled herself after Tigerheart, and together they shoved Darktail away from Rowanstar. Batting at him with vicious blows, they drove him back toward his campmates.
Tigerheart glanced at Tawny pelt, and together they began stalking toward the glowering rogues, snarling. But then, suddenly, Tigerheart looked around and seem ed to realize that he and Tawny pelt were the only cats m oving to defend their leader. “Wait,” he hissed to Tawny pelt, looking around the camp. She dropped onto all four paws, narrowing her eyes as she glared at the invading cats.
The rest of ShadowClan watched, unm oving.
Tigerheart and Tawny pelt looked at each other, uneasy acceptance flashing in their eyes, and then slowly backed away.
What was wrong with the others? Violetpaw stared at them in disbelief. Did they truly all want a rogue leader instead of Rowanstar?
She glanced at Rowanstar as he staggered to his paws. Blood welled on his m uzzle and darkened his neck fur. As he backed toward Dawnpelt, Violetpaw could see that he was trem bling.
Dawnpelt pressed against his flank to steady him. Tigerheart and Tawny pelt j oined them, bunching close together like cornered m ice.
Violetpaw blinked at the huddled group of her Clanmates, feeling sick. “What do we do?” she breathed, one eye on the rogues.
Rowanstar looked at her, pain showing in his eyes. “We go to the Gathering.” He padded forward, lifting his chin. Tigerheart and Tawny pelt followed. Violetpaw started after them, Dawnpelt at her side.
Spikefur curled his lip. “If you go,” he rem inded the ShadowClan leader, “don’t come back.”
“Puddleshine!” Rowanstar beckoned to the medicine cat with a flick of his tail. “Come with us.”
Puddleshine hurried after him.
“Wait.” Spikefur blocked his son’s path. “You can’t leave. Your Clan needs y ou.”
Puddleshine halted, his pelt ruffling. He glanced toward the den where the sick cats lay, then around at his Clanmates and the rogues.
Spikefur went on. “ShadowClan can’t be without a medicine cat again. What if Pinenose relapses? Would you ever forgive y ourself if y our mother died because you left?” He leaned closer to Puddleshine. “If any of y our Clanmates died?”
Puddleshine’s eyes glittered with uncertainty.
Rowanstar paused and looked at the young medicine cat. “I will understand if you decide to stay,” he meowed grim ly.
Puddleshine dropped his gaze. “I can’t leave,” he m urm ured. “I have sworn to protect my Clanmates.”