“Traitor!” he yowled. “Traitor! I trusted you!”
Was it all lies? If Darktail was fighting on the side of the rogues, then clearly he’d never been a true friend to SkyClan. What else had he lied about? Knowing the other Clans? The quests?
Hawkwing’s blood ran cold when it suddenly occurred to him that Darktail must have been planning this attack—manipulating SkyClan as he and his rogue friends prepared for it. Was every moment he spent here part of some twisted plan?
He thought again of the Twoleg food and thought he might be sick. He was up to something…
Spotting Hawkwing, the white tom stepped aside from the combat and waited calmly as Hawkwing drew closer and closer. He seemed as confident as if he was about to slam his paws down on a mouse.
I’ll claw that smug look off his face!
But just as Hawkwing’s claws were reaching for Darktail, a heavy body slammed into him from one side. His paws skidded and he fell, to find himself looking up into the face of the silver-gray tom who had led the trespassing patrol the day before.
How long has Darktail known these rogues? Hawkwing wondered. How long has he been planning this? From the moment he first showed up?
The gray tom swooped down on him, aiming for his throat.
Hawkwing’s foreleg flashed upward and he planted his paw in the tom’s face, digging his claws into his muzzle as he pushed his head back.
The rogue cat let out a screech, batting Hawkwing’s paw away and thumping down on top of him, almost smothering him. He tried to bring up his hind paws to batter at his enemy, but the tom was too heavy for him to shift.
Twisting from side to side in his struggle to escape, Hawkwing spotted his father, Sharpclaw, battling fiercely with two rogue cats: the long-furred black she-cat from the previous day’s patrol, and a mottled black-and-gray tom. In spite of his own peril Hawkwing had to admire his father as Sharpclaw whirled from one rogue to the other, beating both of them back toward the water’s edge.
As Hawkwing watched, Leafstar appeared out of the darkness and slashed her claws at the she-cat, who whipped around and fled.
Sharpclaw gave the mottled tom a shove; the rogue tottered for a heartbeat on the very edge of the river, then fell into the torrent with a shriek and disappeared.
Hawkwing wanted to let out a yowl of triumph for his father, but the gray tom had clamped a paw down on his neck, and he could hardly breathe.
Then to his horror he saw Darktail sneaking up behind
Sharpclaw, his belly pressed to the ground as if he was stalking prey. Hawkwing made a massive effort to call out a warning, but the feeble choking sound was all he could manage, and it was lost in the clamor of the battle. He felt a hot stickiness in his throat, as if this were a nightmare where he could only watch the terrible combat unfold, and not do anything to stop it. Sharpclaw, look out!
Darktail sprang, aiming to land on Sharpclaw’s back, but at the last instant Sharpclaw seemed to become aware of him, and slipped to one side so that Darktail landed hard on the rock. He was briefly winded; Sharpclaw stood over him, one paw raised, but clearly puzzled.
“What’s gotten into you?” he demanded. “How could you betray SkyClan?”
Kill him—now! Hawkwing wanted to cry out, but the gray tom was still pressing down on his throat. Hawkwing’s vision began to spin away in a dark spiral, but he kept on struggling to stay conscious and throw off his attacker.
He saw Darktail recover and spring at Sharpclaw again. “I was never part of SkyClan!” the rogue tom snarled.
Sharpclaw’s confusion was replaced by shock, but now he was no longer in doubt. He retaliated with a familiar battle move, leaping up and twisting in the air to land behind Darktail and lash his claws across the rogue’s hindquarters. Darktail spun around and reared up, bringing his forepaws down hard on Sharpclaw’s shoulders. Sharpclaw rolled away and jumped to his paws again, leaping out of range.
Hawkwing tensed his muscles and tried to get free, but the gray tom held him down. Hawkwing kicked and thrashed, but it was no good.
When he looked back, he saw that blood was dripping down
Darktail’s face as he stalked after Sharpclaw, who was crouched and ready to pounce. Then Hawkwing noticed that Darktail was holding his tail high, waving it to and fro like a branch in the wind.
He spotted a flicker of gray from the corner of his eye.
Painfully twisting his head around, he saw that Darktail’s friend
Rain was creeping up on Sharpclaw from behind. The waving tail was a signal!
Hawkwing made another desperate effort to cry out and warn his father, but the paw pressing on his throat still stifled his voice.
Despair filled him as he watched, helpless. This must be a nightmare. My father is in danger, and there’s nothing I can do!
Rain let out a hiss; distracted by the sound, Sharpclaw glanced over his shoulder. In the same heartbeat, Darktail leaped. He landed on Sharpclaw’s shoulders and slashed a paw over his throat and down his belly. Rain leaped on Sharpclaw from behind and held him down while Darktail slashed at him again. Blood streamed out of Sharpclaw’s body.
Shock and anger surged through Hawkwing, giving him a last burst of energy. He threw off the silver-gray tom and rushed forward to his father’s side. “Get off him!” he croaked out, his voice still hoarse.
Darktail jumped up, and Rain withdrew a pace, as if they were obeying Hawkwing’s order. But Hawkwing knew that wasn’t the reason. The rogues had finished their deadly work, and Hawkwing was too late. He saw his father’s limbs spasm in a final convulsion and then lie still. The last flicker of light died from his green eyes.
“No… no… ,” Hawkwing gasped. This can’t be happening.
This can’t be real!
Darktail stepped forward, putting himself between Hawkwing and his dead father. Hatred surged up in Hawkwing as he bunched his muscles to leap on the white tom, but Darktail simply gave him a push with one paw. Exhausted from his battle with the silver-gray rogue, Hawkwing staggered back.
“Why?” he choked out, stunned by the depths of the rogue cat’s cruelty. “Why have you turned on us? We never did you any harm.”
“I never turned on you,” Darktail sneered. “M y plan was to destroy SkyClan all along.”
Destroy SkyClan? Hawkwing remembered his conversation with Cherrytail, and her fear that being driven from the gorge would end SkyClan. Was that what Darktail wanted this whole time? But why would he hate SkyClan so much? He hadn’t even met us until a couple of moons ago.
Hawkwing didn’t know what to say. He could only repeat his desperate question. “Why?”
“Listen,” Darktail meowed, his tone softening. “I like you, Hawkwing. You’re different from the other SkyClan cats. You’re more like me. Surely you realize your best chance of survival will be with me and my rogues? We’re going to take the gorge for ourselves. Join us! We’re so good together, Hawkwing. We understand each other. I’ll make you my deputy.”
Hawkwing could hardly believe what he was hearing. We’re going to take the gorge for ourselves. And Darktail’s claim of affection made him want to vomit. “Even if I believed you,” he spat, “do you think I would join you? After you and Rain murdered my father? Never!”
To Hawkwing’s amazement, something flickered in Darktail’s eyes and he angled his head aside, as if he were honestly disappointed by Hawkwing’s response. But when he looked up again he wore a savage glare, his whiskers bristling. “If that’s what you want,” he snarled, “you can die along with the rest of your mange-ridden Clan!”