There was a spot near the roots of an oak tree where sun shone through the branches and warmed the ground. Lightning Tail had always liked to bask in the sun. Thunderstar began to dig.
His paws ached and the earth was heavy. Digging was much harder alone than it had been when he and Lightning Tail dug the rogue’s grave together. But Lightning Tail deserved to be laid in the earth the right way. The thought gave Thunderstar new strength, and the strain of his muscles was almost comforting: He was doing this for Lightning Tail.
As he dug, he thought about Violet Dawn and his kits again. Lightning Tail had believed Thunderstar would be a good father. But how could he look after tiny, helpless kits properly when he hadn’t managed to protect his best friend, a powerful warrior?
He would have to try to trust in himself, and trust in Violet Dawn. Maybe Lightning Tail would watch over the kits from StarClan. Lightning Tail had always loved kits.
Finally, the hole was deep enough, and Thunderstar gently pushed Lightning Tail’s body into the grave.
When it was covered again, he laid some grass across it so that the earth wouldn’t look too freshly disturbed—and no predator would dig to find what was buried below.
It was very quiet here. Thunderstar bowed his head and spoke. “I’ll miss you so much, Lightning Tail. You were brave and clever and loyal, and you always helped any cat who needed you. You died saving me, and there’s no way I can thank you properly for that.” Thunderstar took a deep breath, his mouth dry. “Good-bye, Lightning Tail. I’ll never forget you.”
The shadows were lengthening again. It was time to go back to camp, time to tell ThunderClan that their deputy would not be returning. Thunderstar turned away from his friend’s grave and began the long walk home.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was dark by the time Thunderstar, sore-pawed and exhausted, reached the ThunderClan camp. He slipped through the gorse tunnel, nodding at Leaf, who was standing guard, but said nothing. The camp was quiet, the cats asleep.
Violet Dawn was sleeping, too, in the mossy nest they shared in their den. In just the two days that he’d been gone, she seemed to have grown even more round. He lay down beside her and felt a kit squirm inside her belly, tiny paws kicking at him through her side. Warmth spread through him at this proof that the kits were alive and growing.
In a moment, though, his joy dimmed. How could he be happy so soon after Lightning Tail’s death? In the morning, he would have to tell the Clan what had happened. His chest felt tight at the thought. No matter how gently he tried to tell them, they would suffer. Every cat in the Clan had loved Lightning Tail. And would they blame Thunderstar? He had been given nine lives so he could protect his Clan, but instead, Lightning Tail had died protecting him.
Thunderstar rolled over onto his back, gazing up at the rock at the top of his den. He was so tired, but his mind was spinning. He shifted again, accidentally bumping Violet Dawn’s side.
“Hmm?” she murmured softly, and her eyes blinked open. “Thunderstar,” she mewed sleepily. “I missed you.”
He nuzzled his cheek against hers. “I missed you, too. How are you feeling?” Her voice sounded weak, he thought.
Violet Dawn shrugged. “I’m okay. The kits have been really lively at night, so I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“You aren’t sleeping?” Thunderstar asked, alarmed.
Violet Dawn purred. “Don’t worry so much,” she told him. “Cloud Spots says I’m fine, and it’s completely normal for the kits to be keeping me up this close to when they’ll be born. Milkweed says the same thing, and she’s had kits three times. The only problem was that I was feeling too tired to lead the Clan while you were gone. But Owl Eyes has been doing great,” she added quickly. “He’s kept everything running smoothly and even sent out extra hunting patrols to take advantage of the good weather.” She gave a little huff of amusement. “If Lightning Tail doesn’t watch out, Owl Eyes will be deputy before he knows it.”
Thunderstar stiffened. Violet Dawn, sensitive to his moods as always, sat up. “What is it?” she asked, concerned. “Did you find the dogs? Are we going to have to move camp?”
“No,” Thunderstar answered sadly. “We’re not going to have to move. Lightning Tail and I took care of the dogs.” He felt his whiskers drooping. “Lightning Tail was really brave,” he added.
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Violet Dawn sounded puzzled. “But what’s wrong?”
I shouldn’t upset her when she’s carrying kits, Thunderstar thought. But how could he pretend that nothing had happened? Every cat would be wondering where Lightning Tail was in the morning.
And Violet Dawn had never flinched from facing the truth.
“Lightning Tail fought valiantly,” Thunderstar told her. “But the dogs were too fast and too strong for us. They killed him. They killed me, too, but Star Clan gave me nine lives, so I came back again.”
In the darkness he could see the glint of Violet Dawn’s wide eyes staring at him. She sat absolutely still for a few heartbeats, and then gave out a wail of grief. “No! Oh, no!” Her cry echoed around the clearing.
From out in the camp came sleepy exclamations as cats began to stir.
“What’s going on?”
“Are we under attack?”
“The dogs! The dogs!”
Violet Dawn wailed again. Thunderstar curled against her, licking her fur, trying to comfort her.
“It’s Violet Dawn!”
“Are the kits coming?”
Violet Dawn took a deep, shuddering breath. Pressing her face against Thunderstar’s shoulder for a moment, she sobbed once and then pulled back, calming herself. “They need to know what happened. Let’s go out,” she meowed.
Thunderstar shook his head. “You’re more important right now. You need to rest.”
“No.” She got to her feet, her heavy body dignified. “I will be fine. Come on.” She led him out of their den, her head held high.
Out in the clearing, the whole Clan was milling around, their faces worried. At Thunderstar’s appearance, they surged forward.
“Thunderstar, you’re back!” Milkweed mewed, Beech Tail and Patch Pelt staggering sleepily behind her.
“Why is it so loud?” Beech Tail asked crossly, her little tail switching. “Why is every cat awake?”
“What happened?” Pink Eyes blinked nearsightedly at Thunderstar. “We heard a terrible yowl.”
“Is some cat hurt?” Shivering Rose and Blue Whisker were huddled close together.
Thunderstar looked around. Every cat’s face was turned toward him—anxious, concerned, expecting him to put everything right.
“I—” He paused and leaped up onto the Highrock so that every cat could see him. “I have bad news,” he began.
He expected them to erupt in a babble of speculation, but instead the clearing was silent, every cat’s face turned toward him.
He swallowed hard. “We found the dogs, and they won’t be coming back. But Lightning Tail was killed. He . . . he died saving my life.” Thunderstar didn’t add that he had died, too, or that StarClan had fulfilled their promise and brought him back. He couldn’t bear to, not when Lightning Tail was gone.
Cries of mourning rose all around him.
They would blame him, now that he had admitted that Lightning Tail had died protecting him, Thunderstar thought. But looking around, he saw that he had underestimated his Clan. The faces below him were contorted with grief, but there was no anger or hatred. As their cries gradually fell silent, he saw nothing but love in their faces.
Apple Blossom stood up, her head high. “Lightning Tail was a good deputy and a fine cat. He taught me to hunt and to fight. He was never impatient with me, and when I was discouraged, he always had an exciting story to tell me to make me feel strong again.”
“Lightning Tail saved me from Twolegs when I was a kit,” Owl Eyes said, standing next to the younger warrior. “There was no cat braver than him. He died the way he would have wanted—savin
g a Clanmate.”
“Lightning Tail was one of the first cats to welcome me and my kits to ThunderClan,” Milkweed said. “He was always willing to play with kits, and they loved him.”
“When my eyes got too bad to hunt, Lightning Tail always made sure I was fed,” Pink Eyes said. “He was a generous cat.”
All the cats were murmuring agreement, remembering kind things Lightning Tail had done or the way he had shown his bravery in battle and in protecting his Clan.
“We’ll never forget Lightning Tail,” Violet Dawn meowed finally. “He was brave and strong and good, and we were lucky to have him.”
The next two days were quiet and somber as ThunderClan mourned Lightning Tail.
Thunderstar and Violet Dawn sat in the mouth of their den, watching their Clanmates. Clover lay in the shade, picking sadly at a vole. Cloud Spots came out of the medicine den and passed the prey pile by, his tail drooping sadly. Everywhere cats were moving slowly, not speaking to each other, wrapped in their separate grief.
“This has to stop,” Violet Dawn mewed, eyeing them. “Lightning Tail wouldn’t have wanted the Clan to act like this, especially not because of him.”
Thunderstar wrapped his tail around his paws, feeling cold. “No, but what can we do? I can’t tell them to stop being sad.”
“Maybe you should pick a new deputy,” Violet Dawn suggested. “You need to have one, and it will help things get back to normal. It will give the Clan something new to think about, too.”
“A new deputy?” Thunderstar replied doubtfully. He couldn’t imagine any cat being able to support him the way Lightning Tail had. How can I replace my best friend?
“Owl Eyes was an excellent deputy while you and Lightning Tail were gone,” Violet Dawn told him. “Leaf and Gooseberry got into an argument about the nests in the warriors’ den, and Owl Eyes figured out a solution every cat could live with. He managed so well that I didn’t even know there was an argument until it was over.”
Thunderstar hesitated. The idea of another deputy—any deputy—taking Lightning Tail’s place beside him made him ache inside. But Owl Eyes was smart and hardworking. Every cat liked him. He was brave and strong and sensible.
Thunderstar wasn’t ready.
But the Clan needed a new deputy.
Sitting up straight, he made up his mind. Thunderstar opened his mouth to agree with Violet Dawn—Owl Eyes was the right cat for the job—when Violet Dawn suddenly gasped.
“What is it?” Thunderstar asked, Owl Eyes forgotten. Violet Dawn swayed and Thunderstar instinctively moved to support her.
“It’s the kits,” Violet Dawn told him, her eyes wide and glassy with pain. “They’re coming!”
CHAPTER NINE
“Cloud Spots! Come quickly!” Thunderstar yowled. Violet Dawn, gasping, leaned against him suddenly and he staggered under her weight.
Cloud Spots hurried across the clearing, followed by Shivering Rose.
“It’s time, isn’t it?” the long-furred medicine cat asked calmly. He pressed a paw to Violet Dawn’s side. “Take a deep breath. Deeper.”
Violet Dawn made a visible effort to slow her shallow panting, and Cloud Spots nodded approvingly.
Some of the other cats were crowding behind Cloud Spots and Shivering Rose, looking on with interest and excitement. Violet Dawn gave a low moan, her tail drooping, and Thunderstar licked her ear. “It’s okay,” he whispered. Is this normal?
Violet Dawn was shaking. Surely she shouldn’t be in this much pain, Thunderstar thought.
“Let’s get her into the nursery where she’ll be more comfortable,” Cloud Spots ordered. “All of you need to back off and give her some room,” he added, shooting a glare around at the onlookers.
“It hurts,” Violet Dawn mewed.
“Wait for the wave of pain to stop for a heartbeat, and then we’ll move,” Cloud Spots told her, taking Violet Dawn’s weight from Thunderstar. He gestured to Shivering Rose with his tail and she went to Violet Dawn’s other side, so that they could support her between them.
After a moment, Violet Dawn mewed, her voice calmer, “Okay, I can move now.” The three cats started forward, crossing the clearing toward the nursery. Milkweed had already bundled Beech Tail and Patch Pelt out of the den, leaving more space for Violet Dawn and the medicine cats.
Thunderstar followed them to the nursery, his stomach churning with excitement and worry. He hovered in the doorway, looking in at the fresh nest Shivering Rose had made for Violet Dawn a few days ago, padded with clean, soft moss.
“Get some chervil from the medicine den and chew it up,” Cloud Spots told Shivering Rose. “The juice will help with her kitting.”
“Yes, Cloud Spots.” Shivering Rose obediently made for the door of the nursery and stopped. “Excuse me, Thunderstar.”
Thunderstar blinked in surprise and realized he was blocking the door. “Oh, sorry,” he muttered, and moved aside. He felt embarrassed and useless. Usually, he knew how to help the cats in his Clan. But what could he do now? He didn’t know anything about having kits.
He shifted his paws miserably. What kind of father was he going to be? If I can’t even help Violet Dawn bring them into the world, how will I look after them once they’re here?
Another pelt brushed his, and Thunderstar looked up to find Owl Eyes regarding him sympathetically.
“You look worried,” Owl Eyes mewed. “Cloud Spots says that Violet Dawn’s in perfect health and he expects the kits to be fine, you know.”
“I know,” Thunderstar answered, hunching his shoulders. “But she’s in pain and I don’t know how to help her.” He heard Violet Dawn moan again inside the den, and glared down at his own paws. “I’m just out here, and I don’t know . . .” His great fear forced itself up and out of his mouth. “I didn’t have a father of my own when I was a kit. What kind of father am I going to be? How will I know how to take care of them?”
He licked at his chest, too embarrassed to look up at Owl Eyes. Why was he telling the younger cat any of this? He’d never confided his fears to any cat in the Clan except Violet Dawn and Lightning Tail—his Clanmates needed to believe in Thunderstar’s strength to feel safe. I’m falling apart, he realized.
A soft purr made him snap his head back up to look at Owl Eyes. The sleek dark gray tom’s eyes were shining with warmth. “How can you say that?” he asked. “Thunderstar, you look after the whole Clan. Being a father will be easy compared to that.”
“I’m not so sure,” Thunderstar muttered. But his spirits rose a little, and he brushed his tail against Owl Eyes’s side gratefully. At least some cat believed in him, even if he didn’t believe in himself.
Shivering Rose returned to the nursery, carrying a mouthful of chewed pulp.
“The chervil, good,” Cloud Spots mewed inside the nursery. “Now try to take a little of this, Violet Dawn.”
“Okay,” Thunderstar heard Violet Dawn answer in a shaky mew, and then she gasped again in pain. He shuddered at the sound. Should he go in? Or would he only be in the way?
“It’s perfectly normal for it to hurt,” Cloud Spots told her soothingly. “You’re doing very well.”
Violet Dawn yowled sharply, and then moaned. “Thunderstar. Where’s Thunderstar? I can’t do this without him!”
Thunderstar bolted into the den. Cloud Spots glanced at him sharply. “Sometimes it’s better for the father to wait outside.”
“No, I need him,” Violet Dawn insisted.
Shivering Rose, her paws on Violet Dawn’s side, mewed, “I think they’re almost here.” Violet Dawn yowled again, pain in her voice.
Thunderstar lay beside her, curling his body around hers. “It’s all right,” he murmured into her ear. “Just think how beautiful our kits will be. They’ll finally be able to kick you from the outside instead of the inside.”
Violet Dawn gave a short mrrow of laughter, which turned into another gasp.
“The first one’s coming,” Cloud Spots announced.
&nb
sp; “Take a deep breath and push,” Shivering Rose mewed. “Not long now.”
There was a commotion of movement from the medicine cats down at the other end of Violet Dawn’s body, but Thunderstar’s attention was focused on his mate’s face, her amber eyes locked on his as she shook and panted. “You’re doing so well,” he mewed softly to her. “You’re so brave and strong.”
“A tom,” Cloud Spots announced, his voice warm, and a tiny wet kit was placed next to Violet Dawn’s belly. “Lick him warm.”
Thunderstar bent his head toward the little tom, whose coat was the same bright ginger as Thunderstar’s own. As he began to lick, he was flooded with wonder and love. Why had no cat told him this was how it would feel? Of course he would protect and teach this little one. The path seemed clear at last: He would love his kits. Everything else would follow.
By the time the sun had almost set, it was all over.
“Four healthy kits,” Thunderstar purred with satisfaction. He looked around the nursery. Milkweed was nursing Patch Pelt and Beech Tail in their nest on the other side of the den, and her two kits, who had seemed small to Thunderstar just that morning, now looked enormous in contrast to his tiny, beautiful kits.
“They’re quite nice, aren’t they?” Violet Dawn mewed, gently licking the head of the last to be born, a gray tom even smaller than his brothers and sisters.
“I used to think it was silly when cats called their kits perfect,” Thunderstar confessed. “But now I know what they mean. Our kits are absolutely perfect. All four of them.”
“This one is going to be the strongest, I think.” Violet Dawn nosed gently at one of the she-kits, a ginger-striped tabby. “See how hard she’s kneading at my side already. And look.” She gently nudged the kit over onto her back. “See that?”
The little she-kit had a white stripe zigzagging across her belly. It looked just like a bolt of lightning.
A twinge of grief broke into Thunderstar’s happiness. Lightning Tail would have laughed at the echo of his own name and made a special favorite out of the kit. He would have been so happy to watch over and play with all four of the kits. But Lightning Tail would never see them. I’ll tell them all about brave Lightning Tail, Thunderstar vowed silently. The cat who saved me.