Warriors AU: The Darkest Hour

Prologue

Author's Note: It is time to answer a question that is always asked: "How do the toms give birth and nurse the kits?" Here is the answer: There is a she-cat off screen who gives birth and nurses the kits until they are weened, kind of like a surrogate. After the kits are weened, the fathers can officially raise them as their own, and the identity of the she-cat remains secret. The same goes for two she-cats who have kits. There is a tom who provides the needs to make a litter of kits, like a sperm donor, and his identity is also kept secret. I hope this clears up some confusion.

Rain fell steadily, drumming on the hard black Thunderpath that led between unending rows of stone Twoleg nests. From time to time a monster snarled past, its eyes glaring, and a single Twoleg scurried along, huddled into its shiny pelt.

Two cats slipped silently around the corner, keeping close to the walls where the shadows were deepest. A skinny gray she-cat with a ragged ear and bright, watchful eyes went first, every hair on her body slicked dark with the wet.

Behind her prowled a huge tabby with massive shoulders and muscles that slid smoothly under his rain-soaked pelt. His yellow eyes glowed in the harsh light, and his gaze shifted back and forth as if he expected an attack.

He paused where the dark entrance to a Twoleg nest offered a little shelter and growled, "How much farther? This place stinks."

The gray she-cat glanced back. "Not far now."

"It had better not be." Grimacing, the pale ginger tabby padded on, ears twitching irritably to flick away the raindrops. Harsh yellow light angled across him, and he flinched as a monster roared around the corner, throwing up a wave of filthy water that reeked of Twoleg rubbish. The cat let out a snarl as the water slopped around his paws and the spray drizzled down on his fur.

Everything about the Twolegplace disgusted him: the harsh surface under his paws, the stench of monsters and the Twolegs they carried in their bellies, the unfamiliar noises, and most of all, the way that he could not survive here without a guide. The tabby was not used to depending on another cat for anything. In the forest he knew every tree, every stream, every rabbit hole. He was considered the strongest and most dangerous warrior in all the Clans. Now his sharpened skills and senses were useless. He felt as if he were deaf, blind, and lame, reduced to following his companion like a kit trailing helplessly after its mother.

But it would be worth it. The tabby's whiskers twitched in anticipation. He had already launched a plan that would turn his most hated enemies into helpless prey in their own territory. When the dogs attacked, no cat would suspect that they had been lured and guided every step of the way. And then, if things went according to plan, this expedition into Twolegplace would give him all he had ever wanted.

The gray cat led the way along the path and across an open space reeking of Twoleg monsters, where a swirl of color from unnatural orange lights floated on the puddles. She stopped by the entrance to a narrow alley and opened her jaws to draw in the scent of the air.

The tabby halted and did the same, disgustedly swiping his tongue over his lips at the stink of rotting Twoleg food. "Is this the place?" he asked.

"This is it," the gray warrior replied tensely. "Now—remember what I told you. The cat we're going to meet holds command over many cats. We must treat her with respect."

"Pebble, have you forgotten who I am?" The tabby took a step forward so that he towered over his companion.

The skinny gray cat's ears flattened. "No, Goldenstar, I haven't forgotten. But you're not Clan leader here."

Goldenstar grunted. "Let's get on with it," he growled.

Pebble turned into the alley. She stopped short after just a few paces when a huge shape loomed up in front of them.

"Who goes there?" A broad shouldered black and white cat stepped out of the shadows. Strong muscles were outlined under fur plastered to her body by the rain. "Identify yourselves. We don't like strangers here."

"Greetings, Bone," the gray warrior meowed steadily. "Remember me?"

The black and white cat narrowed her eyes and was silent for a few moments. "So you've come back, have you, Pebble?" she meowed at last. "You told us you were going to find a better life in the forest. What are you doing here?"

She took a step forward, but Pebble held her ground, unsheathing her claws against the uneven ground. "We want to see Scourge."

Bone let out a snort, half contempt, half laughter. "I can't imagine that Scourge will want to see you. And who's this with you? I don't recognize him."

"My name is Goldenstar. I've come from the forest to speak with your leader."

Bone's green eyes flicked from Goldenstar to Pebble and back again. "What do you want with her?" she demanded.

Goldenstar's yellow eyes burned like the Twoleg lights reflected on the shining wet stones around them. "I'll discuss that with your leader, not her border patrol."

Bone bristled and extended her claws, but Pebble quickly slipped between her and Goldenstar. "Scourge needs to hear this," she insisted. "It could be to every cat's advantage."

For a few heartbeats Bone hesitated, and then she stepped back, allowing Pebble and Goldenstar to pass. Her hostile glare scorched their fur, but she said nothing.

Now Goldenstar took the lead, treading cautiously as the light faded behind them. On either side, skinny cats were slinking behind piles of rubbish, eyes gleaming as they followed the progress of the two intruders. Goldenstar's muscles tensed. If this meeting went wrong, he might have to fight his way out.

A wall blocked the end of the alley. Goldenstar stared around, looking for the leader of these cats of Twolegplace. He was expecting an even more massive creature than the broad shouldered Bone, and at first his gaze swept over the small black cat crouching in a shadowy doorway.

Pebble gave him a nudge and jerked her head in the black cat's direction. "There's Scourge."

"That's Scourge?" Goldenstar's exclamation rang with disbelief above the falling rain. "She's no bigger than an apprentice!"

"Shh!" Panic flared in Pebble's eyes. "This may not be a Clan as we know it, but these cats would kill if their leader ordered them to."

"It seems I have visitors." The black cat's voice had a brittle, high-pitched sound, like the splintering of ice. "I wasn't expecting to see you again, Pebble. I heard you'd gone to live in the forest."

"Yes, Scourge, I have," Pebble replied.

"So what are you doing here?" Scourge's voice held the faintest suggestion of a snarl. "Have you changed your mind and come crawling back? Do you expect me to welcome you?"

"No, Scourge." Pebble held the black cat's ice blue gaze. "It's a good life in the forest. There is plenty of fresh-kill, no Twolegs—"

"You haven't come to extol the virtues of forest life," Scourge interrupted her with a flick of her tail. "Squirrels live in trees, not cats." Her eyes narrowed, glinting with a pale fire. "So what do you want?"

Goldenstar stepped forward, shouldering the gray warrior aside. "I am Goldenstar, the leader of Shadowclan," he growled. "And I have a proposition for you."