The Price

Chapter 1

Skyfur opened her jaws as she stepped out the medicine cat's den, inhaling deeply. The sun was beginning to creep down the sky, casting shadows that lengthened and grew. The reeds surrounding the camp rustled lazily in the slight breeze.

Orchidpetal and Cleartail were sharing tongues and sunning themselves on the well-packed dirt ground in front of the nursery, gently scolding their kits when they played too roughly. Smogkit and Thislekit were wrestling; Tidekit clearly wanted to join in but was too polite to refuse Yarrowkit's offer to play "hunt the pebble".

Cloudpelt, one of the oldest cats in the clans and Creekstar's brother, was snoozing in the sun, his blind, milky eyes closed shut. He was curled up next to his daughter, Pearlheart, who was heavy with unborn kits. Flowingstream, Skyfur's retired former mentor, was lying next to them. Skyfur couldn't help but notice how young she looked compared to Cloudpelt.

"Hello, Skyfur," She meowed, her orange eyes squinting from the bright sun. "How are you?"

"Annoyed." Skyfur growled, swinging her head around. "Where's that mouse-brained apprentice?"

"Fleetpaw? I think I saw him leaving camp at sun-high."

"I know," she sighed. "I sent him out to gather some marigold at sun-high while I was helping Woodfang's cold and he still hasn't come back."

"You sent him out alone?" Flowingstream gave her a calculating look. "It's dangerous out there. You never know when Thunderclan is going to strike again."
Skyfur rolled her eyes. "It's a gathering night. They aren't stupid enough to attack us today."

"I don't know…" her old mentor meowed. "I'd go find him if I were you."

"No need." Skypaw replied distracted, rising to her paws as she spotted a familiar dark-gray head. "He's here."

Skyfur padded over to the shore of the shallow river surrounding camp, watching Fleetpaw swim, her twitching tail betraying her irritation. "So, where have you been?" She asked sarcastically as her apprentice padded on shore and shook the water off his thick pelt.

Fleetpaw dropped the flowers clenched in his mouth to speak. "I'm really sorry it took so long." he meowed softly. "I had to go past the falls to find the herbs."

Skyfur stared. "You had to go past the falls to find marigold?" She looked down at the flowers he dropped and growled. "You're kidding me."

"What's the matter?"

"Fleetpaw," She meowed in disgust. "These are daisies."

His eyes widened his surprise. "Oh, great Starclan, I-I didn't-"

"I made you take a marigold to compare, you mouse-brain. What did you do with it?"

"I think I dropped it on the way. I couldn't find it half-way to the falls." Fleetpaw muttered, his amber eyes on the ground.

"I didn't even think you'd need it; we went over marigold yesterday. Can you even tell me what they are for?"

Fleetpaw was silent. He shook his head timidly.

"They're for stopping infection and bleeding. You can use it when the elders have stiff joints as well." Skyfur sighed, her eyes softening. "Listen, I know there are a lot of herbs to memorize. Being a medicine cat isn't easy." She locked eyes with him. "I wouldn't think any less of you if you decided that you'd rather be a warrior."

He shook his head vehemently. "No! I want to be a medicine cat!" he insisted. "I know I'm struggling now, but I swear I'll try harder."

Skyfur hesitated, and then nodded. "Alright." She turned around and walked to the medicine cat's den, Fleetpaw right behind her with the daisies. "Well, daisies aren't the worst thing you could've brought back." She meowed once they were in the den.

Fleetpaw carefully placed the flowers on a nearby rock acting as a shelf. "What are they for?"

"They're also used for aching joints, like the marigold. How about this," she meowed, placing her tail gently on his shoulder, "We'll go out tomorrow and find some marigold together, okay?"

"Awesome!" His eyes lit up, suddenly looking much younger than his 8 moons of age and more like that tiny newborn she had licked the night Roaringpaw died. "And, er, what about the gathering tonight? Am I going?"

"…I may have asked Creekstar to bring you along." Skyfur teased.

"Yes!"

Skyfur pretended to ignore Fleetpaw's obvious excitement as they went through the herbs, throwing away rotten leaves, only to meow an exasperated "Fleetpaw!" when his thrashing tail knocked over the daisies he had so carefully stacked. "Go and find your siblings before you burn down the den." She meowed, not unkindly, and Fleetpaw, after many stammering apologies, scampered off to find the other apprentices. Skyfur continued to sort the herbs.

"Hey there." A voice interrupted her work. A black tom poked his head into the den. "I saw you giving Fleetpaw a good tongue-lashing earlier. What was up with that?"

Skyfur sighed. "Don't worry about it. Fleetpaw's just a mousebrain sometimes."

The tom snorted. "Just 'cause he struggles doesn't mean he's a mousebrain. Your expectations are too high."

"Darkleaf!" She meowed accusingly. "You were eavesdropping, weren't you."

"Guilty." Darkleaf squeezed into the den, sniffing some catmint experimentally. "Doesn't change my point. Not everyone's a little prodigy like you."

Skyfur ignored the last statement. "Do you want to eat or something?"

"Sure. I haven't eaten yet. I just got off a patrol." Darkleaf turned around and padded out of the den.

Skyfur followed, bumping into his shortened tail, furless pink skin on the end where a Thunderclan warrior had ripped off his tail-tip 8 moons ago.

Darkleaf picked up two gleaming silver fish from the fresh-kill pile, setting them down on their usual spot a few tail-lengths from the warriors' dens. The two ate in comfortable silence.

The kits, queens, and elders were starting to pad to their dens as the sun began to set. Skyfur and Darkleaf swept away the fishbones into the water at the edge of camp, and shared tongues near the rustling reeds. She watched Fleetpaw as his siblings, Graypaw and Scorpionpaw, demonstrated new fighting moves in front of the apprentices' den, and was soon joined by Featherpool and Ospreywing, their parents. The sunset patrol - Hawkshadow, Coalfire and Wildpaw - padded on shore, two fat mice hanging from Wildpaw's jaws.

Licking scales off of her paws, Skyfur felt her eyes slowly closing. It was the height of Greenleaf; the weather was humid and warm, even at night; it was simply too tempting to doze. Darkleaf's soothing grooming didn't help either.

"C'mon," He whispered eventually, "It's time."

Skyfur stood on her paws blearily as the full moon glowed high above the earth, no clouds blocking its light.

A powerful light-gray tabby jumped on the roots of the massive willow on the side of camp, warriors already eagerly gathering around the tree, waiting for him to announce the group going to the gathering. Darkleaf and Skyfur followed.

"I don't want to take everycat." Creekstar meowed quietly. "Thunderclan remains an enormous threat. While Spicestar has not yet had the nerve to completely disobey Starclan, she is simply untrustworthy."

The gathered cats nodded and murmured their agreement.

"I am taking Skyfur, Fleetpaw, Hawkshadow, Ivymoon, Coalfire, Woodfang, Orchidpetal, Wildpaw, and Flowingstream." Creekstar nodded at a ginger, black, and white tom sitting close to the roots. "I trust Ospreywing with control of the camp tonight. It may seem unnecessary, but one can never be too careful." The gray tom jumped off the willow roots and waved his tail, signaling their departure.

Darkleaf bumped his nose against Skyfur's cheek. "Well, I'm going to sleep." He meowed good-naturedly. "Have fun at the gathering."

Skyfur nodded, falling into step with the group. The Riverclan warriors waded through the shallow river surrounding camp, pulling themselves out of the water, and began the trek to Fourtrees.

The medicine cat was silent during the journey, not hearing Fleetpaw's excited questions about the gathering and Hawkshadow's patient answers.

It has been nearly 8 moons since Roaringpaw first told Skyfur about Thunderclan's horrible fate: deaths by crippling disease. Yet Skyfur had not heard or seen a single incident of life-threatening sickness in Thunderclan, or any other clan for that matter. To say Skyfur was a little frustrated was the understatement of the century, right next to "Roaringpaw's death was a bit unpleasant", or "Thunderclan has had a few disagreements with Riverclan".

Perhaps, Skyfur thought, this is the day. Thunderclan's greed has not lessened, nor has their ferocity. The previous gatherings were full of stories from Shadowclan warriors, whispers of warriors dragged off in the middle of battle and their bodies, in shreds, dumped on their territory the next day. And everyone in Riverclan still remembers Roaringpaw, as well as poor Shinepelt's death 3 moons ago, slaughtered inside the nursery right in front of her kit, Wildpaw, or Wildkit, at that time. But Windclan had no stories to tell, Skyfur thought darkly. It would be very much like Spicestar to create divisions between the clans.

She sighed as they padded towards the Twoleg bridge dozens of tail-lengths away. Honestly, she was not expecting any changes in health this gathering. The last half-moon medicine-cat meeting at the Moonstone was pleasant, but fruitless and borderline annoying. Freeheart had babbled about some new-born kits and how helpful Gustpaw was. Gustpaw had puffed out his chest, telling Fleetpaw "Just gotta remember to lick their fur the wrong way, y'know?" and mouse-brained, naïve Fleetpaw widened his eyes in admiration and lapped it all up.

Admittedly, Skyfur really did like the other medicine cats; Rushingbrook was always courteous enough to bring her some excess borage (that just refused to grow in Riverclan territory), even when she did not have any catnip to exchange. Moonstripe and Fogpelt were both startlingly kind and soft-spoken for Thunderclan cats, especially Moonstripe for being one of Spicestar's old denmates. And, Skyfur thought grudgingly, Freeheart was probably the most experienced – and oldest – out of all of them; she could've been dozing off in the elder's den for moons, but she genuinely enjoyed being a medicine cat so much that she simply would not retire. And Gustpaw, in the end, was good for Fleetpaw; Fleetpaw needed peers- even if they seem more like idols to him.

No, the most trying part of the last half-moon meeting – all the half-moon meetings in the last 8 moons, really – were the conversations with Roaringpaw.

Meeting with Roaringpaw was painful as it was frustrating. When she had gotten her full name, he was overjoyed in a way that seemed almost too happy; he had spent the night thinking of warrior names he could've received. Roaringstorm, he had decided on, and tried to make her call him that from that point on. When she had refused, he started calling himself these ridiculous names. Roaringeye, he had chortled once. Roaringbelly, he told her the next moon, barely able to control his mirth. She had rolled her eyes and chased him around the clearing of Fourtrees, threatening to tear his ears off.

But what never changed was Starclan's unreliability.

"So," Skyfur would always say when their time was almost up, "The disease...?"

"I don't know." Roaringpaw (or Roaringstorm or Roaringeye or Roaringbelly or her brother) would reply. "Starclan knows nothing. Or, they're just not telling me."

"Why wouldn't they tell you?" she would reply, half angry, half curious, but he would never have a straight answer. Eventually he stopped acknowledging the question altogether.

But as much as she liked and admired Moonstripe and Fogpelt, Thunderclan was still a pack of savages who deserved every bit of their horrible fate; a fate, she mused, that has yet to show itself.

Creekstar raised his tail quickly, and the group of Riverclan cats came to a stop. Fourtrees loomed ahead of them, and the full moon shown even higher still. Creekstar opened his jaws, smelling the air. "We are the last to arrive." He murmured, and, with a flick of his tail, rushed down the hill into the clearing, Riverclan warriors close behind.

Skyfur's clanmates wandered off; Ivymoon and Orchidpetal padded over to some queens Skyfur recognized as Alderbranch of Windclan, and Raincloud and Jewelpool of Shadowclan.

"This is your first gathering, isn't it?" Skyfur heard Fleetpaw mew behind her.

"Yeah." Wildpaw replied, abnormally subdued.

"C'mon! I'll introduce you to my friends!" Fleetpaw scampered off, waving his tail for Wildpaw to follow.

"I-I don't need your help!" Wildpaw protested, but followed all the same. Skyfur held back a snort of amusement at Fleetpaw's obvious pleasure of helping a friend.

The medicine cat looked around, seeing no-one she knew particularly well, and followed the two Riverclan apprentices for lack of a better thing to do.

"Normally," a young brown and ginger tom meowed to a group of apprentices that included all four clans, "I would never think of stepping into a stinking Twoleg thing like that, but Burningstar had picked us specifically for this mission. He told us that patrols heard funny noises coming from it, and that me, Braveshadow, and Glintingeye had to check it out." The apprentice nodded at a multicolored tom that had arrived and sat down next to Skyfur mere moments ago. The warrior, who smelled of Windclan, rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"Your student, I believe?" Skyfur teased the tom as the apprentice continued the story.

"My one and only." He replied dryly. "I'm surprised, honestly. This is the first time I've heard him string more than 3 words together, and I've been his mentor for 5 moons."

"Well, it definitely sounds like he'll be a great elder. His storytelling is excellent."

"And your apprentice would be a great kit, medicine cat." The warrior motioned towards Fleetpaw, who was obviously entranced by the tale.

Skyfur shuffled her paws awkwardly, not sure if she should be insulted on behalf of Fleetpaw or not. The tom let out a sheepish purr.

"Sorry, that was a bit much, wasn't it?" He licked his chest quickly. "What's your name again?"

"Skyfur." She replied, amused. "And..?"

"I'm Braveshadow." He nodded towards his apprentice. "Hold on, I think Treepaw's getting to the best part."

"-and all these…things came flying down on us, screeching and flapping these weird wings! They were like birds, only without feathers. They had smooth wings and furry bodies like mice. But the biggest difference was… the teeth." Treepaw meowed dramatically.

"Th-The smooth birds had… teeth?" A little black she-cat squeaked. "No beaks?"

"No beaks." Treepaw replied solemnly. "And as we were fighting them off, one even bit me. Right here." He twisted around, showing his shoulder to the group.

"Wow…" Fleetpaw meowed in awe.

"So then what happened?" A silver tom demanded.

"Well, after killing a bunch of the weird things, Glintingeye grabbed one of the bodies and we decided to get out of the abandoned Twoleg nest-cave thing. Burningstar was very pleased with us. Twoleg things are forbidden territory anyway, so no one will get hurt if they follow orders."

"What about the creature you brought back?" a large brown apprentice asked, his blue eyes flashing.

"Oh, that mangy old thing?" Treepaw flicked his tail dismissively. "Well, I tried to eat it, but it was crowfood. Plus, nothing beats a good rabbit."

"Rabbits?" The silver tom from earlier snorted. "I personally think a fresh frog is better than anything."

Choruses of "Yuck!" and "Ewww" met that sentiment.

"Wait," Wildpaw meowed, confused. "You guys don't eat fish?"

"Of course not, fishface." An older, dark brown Thunderclan apprentice sneered down at her.

Wildpaw puffed up, baring her teeth, but was luckily interrupted by Burningstar's booming meow from the top of the Great Rock. "Let us start the gathering!" He yowled, as Spicestar of Thunderclan, Creekstar, and the deputy of Shadowclan, Lynxfang, jumped up onto the rock as well.

The deputies took their places at the base of the Great Rock; Hawkshadow was directly under Creekstar. Spiritsong of Thunderclan was glaring at everycat in the vicinity, while Hazelclaw of Windclan and a tom Skyfur didn't recognize sat silently, gazing up at the leaders.

The clan cats grew silent as the Lynxfang stepped forward, her golden fur dyed silver in the moonlight. "I have gone to Mothermouth and received the name Lynxstar, as well as my nine lives. I am the new leader of Shadowclan." She meowed.

Skyfur frowned as the cats around her started to whisper.

"What happened to Quickstar?" a voice called out. Skyfur couldn't help but agree; Quickstar was not an old cat, certainly not as old as Creekstar, or even Burningstar.

Lynxstar's voice was steady, but stiff. "Quickstar died bravely in battle. He succumbed to his wounds."

The whispering increased. "No surprises on who they were battling." Orchidpetal, who was sitting in front of Skyfur, whispered to Woodfang. Woodfang murmured an agreement, glaring up at Spicestar.

"Shadowclan's new deputy is Jaybone." Lynxstar meowed, nodding to the white tom sitting below her.

Burningstar began to speak. Nothing new, Skyfur thought. Windclan has new kits, but she already knew that from the last Moonstone meeting. The medicine cat opened her jaws, tasting the air. Nothing but the mingling musk of the four clans. No sour odors of disease, she thought gloomily. She wondered briefly if it went against her position as a medicine cat to hope for sickness.

"Yet another Thunderclan apprentice has become a warrior." Spicestar meowed powerfully. "Larchtooth joins us tonight for his first gathering as a warrior."

Heads swiveled around, searching for the tom. Skyfur spotted him; his black fur nearly made him invisible in the dark, save for his bright green eyes.

"Puddlestep has also kitted successfully." Spicestar's eyes gleamed. "She has 5 healthy kits."

The cats in the clearing gasped.

"Five?!" Fleetpaw squeaked, giving Skyfur a confused look.

"It's rare for us clan cats, but it happens." Skyfur replied.

"So now you see why Thunderclan struggles to feed its own!" Spicestar yowled over the hubbub as cats continued to talk among themselves. "The forest is plentiful, but it is not enough. I have asked for your compassion, Riverclan and Shadowclan, for many moons, but have not received it! And I swear to Starclan that I will do anything to feed my clan." She whipped her head around, her eyes piercing Lynxstar's. "So, Lynxstar, will you let us use a few foxlengths of your territory?"

Lynxstar hesitated, but the Thunderclan leader continued roughly. "Can your clan really afford another… change in leadership?"

The youngest leader balked, clearly intimidated. "A-a few foxlengths?" she replied weakly. The Shadowclan warriors around Skyfur began to hiss angrily.

"Only a few." Spicestar nodded approvingly. "What say you, Creekstar?"

The large gray tom was silent for a moment, and then turned to Burningstar. "What do you think of this?" He demanded.

"She is not asking for my territory." The ginger tom answered calmly.

"What would I want with a few thin rabbits?" Spicestar meowed dismissively.

Creekstar snarled. "Riverclan refuses. Our territory is our territory." Riverclan warriors in the clearing yowled their approval.

"Very well." Spicestar leaped off the Great Rock, signaling with her tail for her warriors to follow her.

"What? Where are you going?" Creekstar growled.

"There is no reason for Thunderclan to further attend this gathering." Spicestar called over her shoulder. The Thunderclan cats padded out, the last of them disappearing into the night.

"Well," Burningstar shrugged and began climbing down, "Goodbye then. I suppose it's over."

Creekstar glanced at Lynxstar, who was still on the Great Rock. "Do not give up hope." He meowed quietly. Lynxstar did not meet his eyes, jumping down to the forest floor and uniting her clan. Skyfur couldn't help but notice the anger glittering in the Shadowclan cats' eyes, and the mutinous muttering as they followed their leader.

Skyfur and Braveshadow turned to each other. The formerly friendly calico tom nodded to her in farewell, his eyes cool and disconnected. They were nothing but neutrals on a battlefield now, she thought sadly. They were nothing but strangers.