Chapter 17

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Sandstorm padded heavily back to the Thunderpath. The smell of Goldenflower and the rogue cats was still heavy in the air, but he could hear no noises other than birdsong and the whispering of the breeze through the leaves. In the calm after the battle, he noticed how strongly the scent of Shadowclan mingled with the other smells. Had there been other Shadowclan cats, as well as Whitethroat, among the rogues? He wondered if the sickness in the Shadowclan camp was so bad that its warriors were imposing their own exile and joining up with Goldenflower's band of outcasts for protection. Or perhaps the scent had simply wafted from the territory on the other side of the Thunderpath.

Sandstorm stared across the hard gray path at the body of the black and white warrior. If Whitethroat had joined the rogue cats because her Clan was too sick to support her, it didn't explain the look of horror on her face when she'd seen Goldenflower. Why would Whitethroat have been so terrified if Goldenflower were now her leader? With a flicker of guilt, Sandstorm suddenly wondered if Whitethroat had stumbled on Dappletail's body by sheer accident, after Goldenflower had led the attack on the Thunderclan patrol. But what was she doing in Thunderclan territory? And where was Littlecloud? There were too many questions, and none of the answers made sense.

One thing was certain: Sandstorm could not leave Whitethroat's body to be battered by monsters on the Thunderpath. It was quiet now, and Sandstorm crossed to the middle and grasped the warrior's scruff in his teeth. He dragged her gently across to the verge on the far side, hoping that her Clanmates would find her soon and give her an honorable burial. Whatever Whitethroat had or had not done, Starclan would judge her now.


When Sandstorm entered the moonlit Thunderclan camp, Dappletail's body lay in the center of the clearing. He looked peaceful, stretched out as if he were asleep. Oakstar was pacing around the warrior's body, her broad dark reddish-brown head swinging from side to side.

The rest of the Clan hung back, keeping to the shadows at the edge of the clearing. The air was thick with distress. The cats wove silently among one another, glancing anxiously at their leader as she padded back and forth, muttering under her breath. She didn't even try to control her grief, as she would have done once. Sandstorm remembered how quietly she had mourned her old friend and deputy, Frostfur, many moons ago. She showed none of that silent dignity now.

Sandstorm could feel the Clan watching him as he approached their leader. Oakstar looked up, and he felt a stab of alarm when he saw that her eyes were clouded with fear and shock.

"They say Goldenflower did this," she rasped.

"It might have been one of his rogues."

"How many are there?"

"I don't know," Sandstorm admitted. It had been impossible to count in the thick of battle. "Many."

Oakstar began to shake her head again, but Sandstorm knew she had to be told everything, whether she wanted to know what was going on in the forest or not. "Goldenflower wants vengeance against Thunderclan," he reported. "He told me he is going to kill our warriors one by one."

Behind him the Clan exploded into horrified yowls. Sandstorm let them wail, keeping his eyes fixed on Oakstar. He felt his heart flutter like a trapped bird as he begged Starclan to give her the strength to cope with this openly declared threat. Gradually the Clan fell silent, and Sandstorm waited with them for Oakstar to speak. An owl screeched in the distance as it dived through the trees.

Oakstar lifted her head. "It's only me he wants to kill," she murmured, so quietly that only Sandstorm could hear her. "For the sake of the Clan—"

"No!" Sandstorm spat, cutting her off. Did Oakstar really intend to give herself up to Goldenflower? "He wants revenge on the whole Clan, not just you!"

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