Fugitive

''This is the second episode of Vale, season 5. Written by Rainy. Read, enjoy, & comment! Oh, and I apologize about there being no first person Breezeflight POV in here; it was necessary plotwise. ''



Fugitive
The apprentices ran through the dewy grass, their shouts echoing in the still morning air. Brightpaw led the way, the ginger patches on her white coat glittering in the golden light of dawn; her mentor, Breezeflight, was a big fan of morning runs, and as such Brightpaw had learned to be quick and agile. But Breezeflight was missing this morning; some other warriors said she had gone into the leader's den to speak with Quailstar and had not reemerged, so Brightpaw had decided to go on her own run, and bring the other apprentices as well. Behind her streaked Sleepypaw, neck-and-neck with a GreenClan tom called Gorsepaw. Flowerpaw and Riverpaw, a sleek silver GreenClan she-cat, brought up the rear.

Brightpaw had thought her denmates would be archenemies with the GreenClan crowd forever, but Duckpaw's death had changed the dynamic of things. It was like the younger cats had reached an unspoken conclusion: the stupidity and destructive power struggles of the adults would not cost them any more lives.

Duckpaw had been no saint; there was no love lost between him and Brightpaw, who had heartily sworn she'd rip his head off herself only the day before he'd died. But to be burned alive in a fire... being obnoxious was not a crime worthy of that. In fact, Brightpaw couldn't think of a crime that was.

The fire had shaken her badly. She wished she could shadowhop relentlessly, wished she could have saved everyone--could have saved Quailstar, before she lost those four lives. The morning after, she had spent hours alone in the woods, practicing making objects disappear and reappear, till she was light-headed and nauseous, utterly drained.

Her power cost her so much; she hardly even thought it was worth it.

Caught up in her thoughts, Brightpaw did not realize the other apprentices had stopped, warily sniffing the air, their hackles raised. She raced straight into the bush, straight into something cold and stiff and furry.

Screaming, she leaped back, and her frightened eyes locked with the glazed-over eyes of Hawkeye.

For a terrible moment, no one said anything. Then Flowerpaw whispered, "Is he--?"

"He's dead. Of course he's dead, you can't look like that and be alive," said Riverpaw sharply. She was referring to the bloody marks crisscrossing Hawkeye's pelt; there was one particularly massive gash on his throat that made the bile rise in Brightpaw's throat.

No one, she thought yet again, deserves this death.

"Who could do this?"

"And why?" asked Sleepypaw. "I mean... he was a jerk but-"

"Sleepypaw!" said Flowerpaw.

"Well, he was," said their brother defensively. "But he... he did nothing to-"

Uncertainly, Gorsepaw cut in. "I don't know. They say he was one of the cats who conspired to light the fire." His voice was strained; Duckpaw had been his brother. "But who are we to say what justice is," muttered Gorsepaw darkly, turning away from the corpse.

Flowerpaw glared at him. "Oh, so just because he's a SpringClan cat--don't you know it was Thornfeather, a GreenClan cat, who actually set the fire? She tried to kill our leader too, and-"

"And she paid the price too," finished Brightpaw in a dull tone. She beckoned them with her tail over to a bush only a few tails away.

Sprawled in the limbs was Thornfeather, her sightless eyes reflecting the light, her throat slit as well. Dead.

Now everyone looked equally shaken. "What is this, the work of some deluded vigilante?" Gorsepaw looked furious suddenly. He turned and shouted into the woods, "THIS IS NOT JUSTICE!"

The trees waved their branches obliviously, mocking the young cats and their noble outrage, their righteous anger. Brightpaw glared at the trees; they seemed to say, "What care we about your dead? Your bodies feed our roots, and we grow. Your struggles mean nothing."

"Brightpaw?" Riverpaw asked.

"Huh?" Brightpaw coughed and tried to look like she hadn't been imagining talking trees.

"What do we do?" whimpered Flowerpaw.

Grimly, Sleepypaw turned. "I'll go back and tell the warriors."

"I'll come with you," volunteered Riverpaw immediately.

Blinking, Gorsepaw said, "So what? We just stay here with the bodies?"

But Riverpaw and Sleepypaw had already raced away.

Uneasily, Gorsepaw said, "I don't like this. Other cats, I would say we were facing a beast--but these two cats, of all of us? They were killed for what they've done. Someone is trying to punish them, with some twisted form of justice." His eyes blazed on the last word. Gorsepaw obviously put great faith and honor in justice being carried out in a fair form; the thought of someone enforcing justice through slitting throats seemed to repulse him more than the bodies themselves.

"Maybe Quailstar or Viperstar ordered their assassination as revenge," suggested Flowerpaw.

"I wouldn't put it past Viperstar, but I don't think it's Quailstar's work," said Brightpaw.

"Quailstar's gone mad, Brightpaw. There's no telling what she would or wouldn't do," said Gorsepaw.

Flowerpaw gave him an outraged look. "Don't you call our leader-"

But Brightpaw cut over her sister. "All the more reason, Gorsepaw. She might have lost her mind, but that is exactly why I say this wasn't her; she is incapable of plotting, of reasoning this out... They say she is lost in delusions most days; who would carry out an assassination on the orders of a cat like that?"

They were interrupted by the sound of bushes crackling behind them; Sleepypaw and Riverpaw had returned, followed by Bluebird, Minkears, Dewfrost, and Breezeflight. At the sight of the bodies, Breezeflight gave a low cry in her throat, stumbling in shock. Bluebird looked astonished as well; Hawkeye and he had usually gotten along well, as they'd grown up together, since Hawkeye had been friends with-

"Duskwatcher," Breezeflight said, unknowingly finishing Brightpaw's train of thought.

"What?" Several confused gazes turned to her.

"I saw him in the woods last night."

A look of exasperation crossed Dewfrost's face, and Brightpaw realized that this must have been what Breezeflight had gone into the leader's den to say.

"Dead cats don't rise from the grave," Dewfrost told Breezeflight in a tone that implied it wasn't the first time he'd said it.

"And dead cats don't murder cats--is that what you're trying to say? That my brother killed Hawkeye and Thornfeather?" asked Bluebird.

Breezeflight shuddered. "I saw him, Dewfrost, I'm telling you. He attacked me. He survived the fire, but he's lost his sanity completely, just like Quailstar. He's got a personal vendetta to fulfill, and we're all in danger." She looked beseechingly at her former mentor.

Meanwhile, Brightpaw glared at her mentor and wished she'd shut up. She loved Breezeflight, she really did, but there were times when she just wished Daisyheart was here, with her soft-spoken, gentle way with words, and her knowledge of when to stop talking. Shut up, she willed Breezeflight silently, shut up, shut up, shut up.

"Why would he attack you, if he's going after wrongdoers? And look at what he's supposedly done to Hawkeye and Thornfeather; if he overpowered them both, how could you have escaped?" asked Dewfrost sternly.

Guiltily, Breezeflight ducked her head. Brightpaw eyed her suspiciously; her mentor was definitely hiding something. "I did do something wrong in Duskwatcher's eyes... I helped Lilyshade and Blackheart escape, remember? But they're back with SpringClan now, which means the next cats he goes after-"

"This is absurd!" roared Bluebird unexpectedly, turning on Breezeflight. "I know my brother wasn't perfect, but you're trying to tarnish his memory--Wasn't his fate bad enough without you doing this? He isn't walking around like a demented, disfigured ghost, killing cats--he's DEAD! Dead and gone; his mate was murdered and he went up in flames, is that not enough punishment for whatever he'd ever done wrong? He was my kin. You horrible, scheming liar--you were probably out last night, Breezeflight, I saw your nest was empty, and you're spinning tales to cover your own pelt-"

Before Brightpaw could smack the warrior in rage for what he'd said to Breezeflight, Minkears had hurled herself between Bluebird and her best friend, snarling and flattening her ears. "Don't you dare speak to her that way, you cur! Never insult her like that again or I swear I'll-"

"Silence!" yelled Dewfrost angrily.

The damage had been done. Breezeflight, for once, looked completely lost for words; there was a haunted sort of look in her eyes and she gazed blankly around at them. Meanwhile, shock and hurt eclipsed Bluebird's face. Brightpaw didn't even know the handsome tom was capable of such anguish; she'd only ever seen him truly hurt at Duskwatcher's downfall. Could he possibly care for-

"Minkears, Breezeflight, Duskwatcher, behave like warriors, if you please," Dewfrost said in a voice like ice. "The apprentices have shown ten times the maturity of any of you."

None of the apprentices acknowledged this comment. Gorsepaw shut his eyes, as if willing everything to just be a nightmare. Riverpaw, Sleepypaw and Flowerpaw huddled together, but Brightpaw felt as if she was frozen to the ground. She felt sick with horror, and the smell of old blood was making her faint. "I need to leave."

"Come on," Gorsepaw said immediately, and he was at her shoulder, guiding her away.

Too late, Brightpaw realized they weren't heading back to camp. "Why are we at High-Rock?" she said uneasily. "This is one of the far edges of our territory."

"Need to think, clear my head," Gorsepaw said. He was pacing anxiously, and not looking like his head was clearing very well at all. "Can't stand the Order, the stupid power struggles, the whispering and muttering and secrets. I don't know about SpringClan, but GreenClan is a twisted thing, you know. Viperstar, Odessa, Thornfeather, many more... they're all crazy, power-hungry freaks who will do anything to get what they want. I guess Thornfeather can't do that anymore, but... Hollystrike was our only good leader, and she's gone to StarClan-knows-where because of her banishment. And if that she-cat, your mentor or whoever, is really right and some murderous psycho is stalking these woods, then Hollystrike's probably dead too."

As prejudiced as it was, Brightpaw was a little surprised at his rant. She'd begun to think that all GreenClan cats were the same; loyal to Viperstar and selfish to the very core.

Gorsepaw seemed to read her mind. Wryly, he said, "Surprised that I have a soul?"

"That's not what I-" Brightpaw broke off when she saw that he was smiling slightly.

"It's all right. I surprise even myself sometimes by stirring from the dull stupor of ignorance my Clanmates enjoy immersing themselves in-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Way too many big words," said Brightpaw.

"Fine. I surprise myself sometimes by raising my head and being like, 'what in the stars is going on?'"

Whiskers twitching, Brightpaw said, "Better."

There was a pause. Brightpaw gave a little sigh. "The Order's going to fall apart, isn't it?"

"You know, I actually think that these murders will be the thing to stop it from falling apart," said Gorsepaw. "The fire hurt both GreenClan and SpringClan, and now two culprits, one from each Clan, have been killed. That's good in many cats' eyes, but it also raises another question: who killed them, and who's next? Victory and tragedy might be on opposite ends of the spectrum, but they share one thing: they have immense power in uniting cats."

He sounded wise beyond his moons, and Brightpaw felt faintly embarrassed; next to him, she was still an airheaded little kit whose main goal in life was to sneak out of camp.

Again, he seemed to read her mind. "You know, when I first met you and your siblings, you struck me as... well," he shuffled his paws awkwardly, "annoying. Really loud and overbearing. But you're not like that--and Flowerpaw and Sleepypaw are nice too. You're not as bad as I thought you were."

"Ditto," smirked Brightpaw, bumping her shoulder to his. "But your leader still is."

"Yes, well." He sighed. "I am not the leader of the Viperstar Fan Club either."

"Good," said Brightpaw satisfiedly. "Then you can be leader of the Brightpaw Fan Club."

He laughed loudly, then hesitated, as if surprised by his own amusement. "Duckpaw used to be the funny one, you know."

Personally, Brightpaw thought that Duckpaw's sense of humor--at least, the parts of it that involved torturing and pranking her and her siblings--was atrocious, and that he was a jerk, but she thought she'd better not say this aloud.

Gorsepaw looked thoughtful. "I will miss him terribly, but... it's nice to think that a part of him lives on in every laugh. He always said I needed to learn to laugh, and that he would see to it that I learned, but now..."

Brightpaw did not often overextend herself to see to the emotional needs of others; she had always let Flowerpaw do that, as her sweet sister was much better suited to the job anyway. Not like Brightpaw, who always put her paw in her mouth by saying the wrong things and offending cats.

But for some reason, she found herself opening her mouth and saying, "I can teach you to laugh."

- - - -

Dewfrost sat in the leader's den, utterly miserable.

They were having a leadership conference, which normally meant both the Order's leaders and their deputies.

With Quailstar huddled in Lionpatch's den, delusional and raving, and Hollystrike having had her eye clawed out by Viperstar, though, a friendly meeting with all of them present seemed very unlikely.

So it was just Dewfrost and Viperstar.

Viperstar had been talking for about an hour or so, but Dewfrost hadn't heard a word of what he'd said, other than a few stupid, nonsensical sentences about how the Order was "more essential than ever" and how "SpringClan was lucky to have the protection of GreenClan ranks in these troubled times". As if the Order hadn't marked the sharp increase in the trouble.

Technically, he was supposed to be pitching in with making suggestions on how to get the Clans back on their paws, but Viperstar hardly seemed to care that he was staring vacantly into space instead; the GreenClan leader had consumed himself in his own speech, and seemed unaware of anything else as he talked.

At least, until one of his warriors burst into the den.

It was a stocky GreenClan tom called Boulderclaw, who walked in a slightly lopsided manner and was missing one ear. "Viperstar," he growled. "We have found the traitor."

Impatiently, Viperstar said, "I know that, Boulderclaw. We found her this morning, but Thornfeather is dead."

"Not Thornfeather," said Boulderclaw, looking irritated at being treated like he was stupid. "Hollystrike. She is camped out on the edge of the territory. Shall we send out a patrol to hunt her down?"

"Ah." Viperstar's mouth curled into a sadistic smile. "Did I not tell you that she would come to us? You all were afraid she had gotten away, but I knew better; Hollystrike is too foolishly loyal to abandon her Clan. Now you shall truly see that no one escapes my anger."

A wave of fear rippled through Dewfrost. "But you--I thought you spared her, for the sake of her sister. Your mate."

"What Odessa doesn't know can't hurt her," said Viperstar.

"But we have bigger things to worry about!" protested Dewfrost. "We have a killer on the loose-"

"A killer who slaughtered two cats who conspired against the Order. If I ever meet the killer, I'll shake his paw."

Horrified, Dewfrost spluttered, "Did you see the bodies? A cat capable of that is not-"

"Silence!" Viperstar turned to him. "You will be in charge of keeping these Clans of fools in order while I'm gone. Boulderclaw, select two other loyal, skilled GreenClan warriors. Make sure they are not averse to killing. We will hunt her down and return within the hour."

''Four cats? Four cats to take down a one-eyed she-cat? You scummy coward.''

"You'll heed my orders, won't you, Dewfrost?" Viperstar asked.

Unable to speak through his rage, Dewfrost gave the black tom a stiff nod. Viperstar gave him a cruel sneer, then trotted out of the den with Boulderclaw at his side.

Dewfrost waited a minute, till he heard the yowling of GreenClan cats that he knew meant they were giving their leader a send-off. Briefly, he wondered if Odessa was out in the camp, watching her mate--he wondered if she knew her sister was about to die.

Then he ended the battle he was waging in his own mind: He had to do something. He couldn't sit by and let this happen.

He bolted out of the leader's den and collided with Breezeflight. "I saw you and Viperstar in here before," she began talking immediately. "Where is he going? Did you tell him about Duskwatcher?"

"I don't have time for this, Breezeflight. Someone's in danger."

"Yeah, Lilyshade and Blackheart," she snapped irritably. "I already told them to be on the lookout, but you and Viperstar have got to warn the Clan! Duskwatcher will kill anyone who stands in his way, no one's safe--you can't continue sending out patrols without them being on their guard. You've got to increase the Clan's security, you've got to do something."

"Viperstar doesn't care about Duskwatcher. He thinks Duskwatcher was doing him a service, killing Hawkeye and Thornfeather," said Dewfrost.

"But that's insane!" spluttered Breezeflight.

Dewfrost shouldered past her. "I have to go. We'll talk later." Then, suddenly regretting the distance that had been growing between him and his old apprentice, he leaned forward and licked her ear. "Be safe, okay?"

"You too." Her green eyes shone with worry.

Then he was racing past her, out the camp, crossing the ground at breakneck speed. He leaped everything in his path, his heart slamming painfully in his chest; if he didn't reach her in time--no, he couldn't afford to think like that, or it'd drive him mad...

He was bolting past High-Rock when he heard someone call his name.

Pivoting, he glanced up and nearly passed out from relief.

A familiar cream-pelted cat was making her way down High-Rock towards him, nimbly skipping down the cliffside. "You came to warn me, didn't you?"

"I thought I was too late," he said.

"I was up here," she nodded at High-Rock, "when I saw them coming, so I hid. There's a little cave up there."

"Yeah," Dewfrost said, nodding. "I know; we've used High-Rock as a base before, when we were trying to win back our territory from the League."

Hollystrike's lips tightened; through all the leadership meetings they'd been dragged to before the Order began, they had learned about the other Clan's interactions with the League. SpringClan obviously had had a very tough time, having been driven out of their home by Claron's cats, but GreenClan cats had a hatred for the League so strong it amounted to irrationality. Apparently they used to go on strikes against League cats where they'd tear open their dens and kill any cat they could find, even parents and families. Dewfrost felt sick thinking about it. Breezeflight had once mentioned something about Ryan, Chamomile and Lily's parents having been killed by GreenClan, and now he thought he knew why.

Dewfrost was seized with the sudden urge to ask Hollystrike if she'd ever slaughtered a cat just for being nonClan, but he refrained.

"I don't know what to do, Dewfrost," Hollystrike said in a miserable little voice. "I'm a fugitive, I can't stay up on High-Rock forever, and when I'm found..."

"You won't be found," he said fiercely. "Because Viperstar will be taken down before then."

She shook her head. "You have no idea what you're up against."

He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a cat's distant scream. Both he and Hollystrike turned back to the woods. He hesitated, but she pushed him forward. "Go. Find out what's happened. Just... come back when you can, and tell me, okay? I still care about them all; I have to know..."

Understandingly, he nodded. Then, blood burning in his veins and dread pooling in his stomach, he ran towards the woods, the piercing scream still ringing in his ears.

The End