//Un//masked

// chapter 20 //

    A flash of blue and cream flew through the air so fast Nightpaw nearly missed it.

    With a terrifying screech, Dawnstar landed on the prisoner's back just as he reached Spiderthorn. In a wild tangle of limbs they fell to the ground, throwing up dust and snow in their wake.

    Then, everything went still. Nightpaw blinked his white-rimmed eyes once, twice, waiting for the dust to settle. It moved slowly, as if on purpose, shrouding the three battling cats in mystery. The entire Clan shuffled impatiently, eager to discover the results.

    The gasps of various cats rose into the air as Dawnstar came into view, a grim expression on her face. At her paws lay the still twitching body of the prisoner, his eyes wide as his blood, and his life with it, seeped slowly from his throat into the half-frozen ground beneath him. Under the grey tom's weight lay the still form of Spiderthorn.

    Dawnstar stepped back, eyes blank. Only a small flick of her tail and the slight bow of her head let Nightpaw know that the events of Spiderthorn's battle round were troubling her.

    A groan. The prisoner had ceased his movements, eyes staring blankly up at the sky.

    Then, Spiderthorn moved subtly.

    The kits at Nightpaw's paws shifted, squeaking in relief as the deputy candidate hauled himself out from underneath the prisoner. He coughed, a mixture of saliva and blood falling from his jaws, and only managed to limp a couple of steps away before collapsing to the ground.

    With a nod from Dawnstar, Birchfrost and Lionmask rushed to collect the tom, carrying him to the healer's den immediately. At its entrance, Mothpaw waited with wide eyes, Cedarheart impassive beside her.

    "Spiderthorn fought bravely," Dawnstar announced. "He will still be considered for the post of deputy."

    Something deep within Nightpaw twanged at her words, but he remained silent. He knew no one would oppose the pale she-cat; the dignified tilt of her head and still unsheathed bloody claws prevented it. Only Hailwatcher, who looked impossibly small sitting atop the Speaking Rock, let his disagreement be known through the tiniest flick of his spotted tail.

    "Now, it is our final candidate's turn to be tested," the pale tortoiseshell continued. "Sprucetail."

    Dawnstar melted back into the crowd as the black warrior stepped forward. As during her interview, her eyes darted about nervously and her ears swivelled back and forth. When her eyes grew wide, Nightpaw knew she had caught the scent of her opponent.

    He waited, breath withheld, as two of the guardians pushed Sedgecloud forward.

    This time, a shocked gasp swept the Clan and all eyes turned to Nightpaw. The black tom ignored them even as his fur bristled. He set his own eyes on Sprucetail, who returned his gaze with a strange mixture of sadness, anger and relief.

    Surprised by her reaction, the apprentice looked instead at Sedgecloud, who sat crouched on the ground, entire body shaking. The sounds coming from his jaws would have put even newborn kits to shame - a pitiful mewing that caused some of the warriors to snicker.

    "Silence," Sprucetail said, raising her head. Though her ears continued to swivel, the rest of her body remained still, her eyes focused only on her opponent. The entire clearing went quiet at her command. Out of the corner of his eye, Nightpaw saw Hailwatcher shift in interest.

    The black she-cat padded up to the former caretaker, each step slow and purposeful. Though Sedgecloud continued to quiver, he did not utter a single sound. She halted right before the tip of his nose.