Warriors AU: Rising Storm

Chapter 26

Sandstorm felt as if he had slept for only a moment when he woke. A cold breeze was ruffling his fur. The rain had stopped. Above, the sky was filled with billowing white clouds. For a moment he felt confused by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then he became aware of the sound of voices meowing nearby and recognized Speckletail's trembling mew.

"I told you Starclan would show its anger!" rasped the old tom. "Our home has gone; the forest is no more."

"Oakstar should have appointed the deputy before moonhigh," fretted Smallear. "It's the custom!"

Sandstorm leaped to his paws, his ears burning, but before he could say anything. Cinderpelt's mew rose into the air.

"How can you be so ungrateful? Sandstorm carried you across the river, Speckletail!"

"He nearly drowned me," complained Speckletail.

"You'd be dead if he'd left you behind," spat Cinderpelt. "If Sandstorm hadn't smelled the smoke in the first place, we might all be dead!"

"I'm sure Patchpelt, One-eye, and Raggedpelt are deeply grateful to him."

Sandstorm's fur rippled with anger as he heard Darkstripe's sarcastic yowl.

"Raggedpelt will thank him herself when we find her!" hissed Cinderpelt.

"Find her?" echoed Darkstripe. "There's no way she'll have escaped that fire. Sandstorm should never have allowed her to go back to the camp."

Cinderpelt growled deep in his throat. Darkstripe had gone too far. Sandstorm padded quickly from the shadows and saw Dustpaw sitting beside Darkstripe, staring up at her mentor with horror in her eyes.

Sandstorm opened his mouth, but it was Ferncloud who spoke first. "Darkstripe! You should show more respect for your lost Clanmates, and"—he glanced sympathetically at the frightened Dustpaw—"be more careful with what you say. Our Clanmates have suffered enough already!"

Sandstorm was taken aback to hear the young warrior challenging his former mentor.

Darkstripe eyed Ferncloud with equal surprise, then narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Ferncloud's right," Sandstorm meowed quietly, stepping forward. "We shouldn't be arguing."

Darkstripe, Speckletail, and the others whipped around to stare at Sandstorm, their ears and tails flicking awkwardly as they realized he had heard their conversation.

"Sandstorm!" Silverstream's mew interrupted them, and Sandstorm saw his friend crossing the clearing, his fur damp from the river.

"Have you been on patrol?" Sandstorm asked, turning away from the Thunderclan cats and padding over to meet Silverstream.

"Yes. And hunting." meowed Silverstream. "We can't all sleep the morning away, you know." He nudged Sandstorm on the shoulder and went on: "You must be hungry. Come with me." He led Sandstorm toward a pile of fresh-kill at the edge of the clearing. "Leopardfur says this is for your Clan," Silverstream told him.

Sandstorm's belly growled with hunger. "Thanks," he meowed. "I'd better let the Clan know." He went over to where the Thunderclan cats were gathered. "Silverstream says that pile of food is for us," he announced.

"Thank Starclan," Tigerclaw meowed gratefully.

"We don't need other Clans to feed us," sneered Darkstripe.

"I suppose you can go hunting if you want," Sandstorm meowed, narrowing his eyes at the tabby warrior. "But you'll need to ask Willowstar's permission first. After all, this is his territory."

Darkstripe snorted impatiently and padded toward the fresh-kill pile. Sandstorm looked at Oakstar. She hadn't reacted to the news of food at all.

Brindleface twitched his ears. "I'll make sure everyone gets a share," he promised, glancing at Oakstar.

"Thanks," Sandstorm answered.

Silverstream padded up and dropped a mouse on the ground at his paws. "Here, you can eat this at the nursery," he meowed. "There are some kits I want you to see."

Sandstorm picked up the mouse and followed his friend toward a tangle of reeds. As they approached, two kits hurtled through a tiny gap in the thickly woven stems and rushed toward Silverstream. They flung themselves at him, and Silverstream rolled over happily, batting with gentle sheathed paws as the kits climbed over him. Sandstorm knew at once whose kits they were.

Silverstream purred loudly. "How did you know I was coming?" he rumbled.

"We smelled you!" answered the larger kit.

"Very good!" Silverstream praised him.

As Sandstorm finished the last mouthful of mouse, the silver tabby warrior sat up and the kits tumbled off him. "Now it's time you met an old friend of mine," he told them. "We trained together."

The kits turned their amber and blue eyes on Sandstorm, staring up at him in awe.

"Is this Sandstorm?" mewed the smallest one. Silverstream nodded, and Sandstorm felt a glow of pleasure that his friend had spoken about him already to his kits.

"Come back here, you two!" a gray face appeared in the entrance of the nursery. "It's going to rain again." Sandstorm saw the eyes of the kits narrow crossly, but they turned and padded obediently toward the den.

"They're great," he purred.

"Yeah," Silverstream agreed, his eyes soft. "More thanks to Frogleap than me, I have to say. She's the one who looks after them." Sandstorm heard a note of wistfulness in his friend's voice, and wondered just how much Silverstream missed his old home.

Neither cat spoke as the silver tabby warrior got to his paws and led Sandstorm out of the camp. They sat down on a small patch of bare earth among the reeds. A willow tree arched above their heads, its branches quivering in the fresh breeze. Sandstorm felt the wind tug at his fur as he stared through the willow curtain toward the distant woods. It looked as if Starclan was going to send more rain to the forest.

"Where's Raggedpelt?" asked Silverstream.

Fresh grief welled up in Sandstorm's chest. "Raggedpelt came back to the Thunderclan camp with me to look for Patchpelt and One-eye. I lost her in the smoke. A... a tree fell into the ravine as she was coming out." Was there any way she could have survived the flames? He couldn't help a flare of hope bursting in his chest, like a trapped pigeon frantically stretching its wings. "I don't suppose you found any scent of her on your patrol?"

Silverstream shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Do you think the fire's still burning after that storm?" meowed Sandstorm.

"I'm not sure. We saw a few plumes of smoke while we were out."

Sandstorm sighed. "Do you think any of the camp will be left?"

"You'll find out soon enough," answered Silverstream. He lifted his head and stared through the leaves at the darkening skies. "Frogleap was right—more rain's coming." As he spoke, a large drop landed on the ground beside them. "That should put out the last of the flames."

Sandstorm felt his head spin with grief as more drops spattered through the trees and splashed on the brittle reeds. Before long, the rain was pouring down for the second time, and it seemed that Starclan was weeping for all that had been lost.