The Lost Prophecy: Book 2: Broken Destinies

Chapter 20

An oily scent burned Ravenpaw's nostrils. Confused, Ravenpaw opened his eyes, wondering where he was. This dark stone coated place was a strange spot to take a nap. He tried to get up, but when he moved his forelegs a sharp pain coursed across his chest, paralyzing him. Ravenpaw dug his hind claws into the ground to push himself away from where he'd woken up; wherever he was, he knew it was dangerous. I'm on the Thunderpath, he realized. His thoughts were slow and jumbled. Why am I here?

Making his way off the verge, he came to a rest at the edge of the path. He didn't know how long he lay there, gasping from the ache in his shoulder. All he knew was the sharp tang of blood and the oily scent of the Thunderpath.

A brown striped tom was approaching him out of the corner of his vision. "What happened?" the tom meowed. It took a few heartbeats before he recognized that the mew belonged to Dustpelt. His voice was mewing things to him, but Ravenpaw didn't understand them.

Then he remembered. "Cinderpaw?" Struggling to his paws, Ravenpaw hobbled over to the small gray shape that was resting at the side of the Thunderpath, and collapsed next to her. Cinderpaw's hind leg was twisted at a sharp, unnatural angle, and a trickle of blood smeared her smudgy gray fur. Her normally exuberant blue eyes were closed; the only indication that she was still alive was the barely visible rise and fall of her chest.

Dustpelt whipped around to glare at him. "What were you thinking, bringing her out here like this?!"

"I didn't..." Ravenpaw couldn't finish. He shouldn't have let Cinderpaw follow him, even if it had been her choice. She was too young. He could only stare at her broken body, panic rising in his chest. "What do we do?"

Dustpelt silently picked Cinderpaw up by the scruff of her neck, and began to drag her in the direction of the ThunderClan camp.

"Wait!"

Dustpelt didn't respond; he disappeared into the forest with a single flick of his tail. Trembling, Ravenpaw tried to follow him, but every time he put weight on his forelegs it made his body clench in pain, and he could only move at a snail's pace. The glancing blow he'd taken from the monster had injured something- he guessed his shoulder, but it could have been a rib too. Whenever he took a step his front throbbed, the agony nearly knocking him off his feet.

He finally figured out a way to move faster. His right foreleg was causing the brunt of the pain when he set it down, so he held it up and limped unevenly. It still hurt whenever he stepped on his other foreleg though. Vaguely he recognized that if Tigerclaw wanted to kill him, now would be his chance.

The dark brown tabby warrior didn't appear though; at the halfway point a different cat burst out from the bushes. "Great StarClan, Ravenpaw, are you alright?!" Sandpaw meowed, racing forward. "Dustpelt just told me."

"Weren't you with-" he gasped- "Tigerclaw?"

"What are you talking about?" Sandpaw mewed. "He sent me back. Come on, I'll help you."

Ravenpaw didn't have the strength to answer her, and he pushed onward while Sandpaw allowed him to lean against her flank. As Ravenpaw made his way through forest, he felt his eyes growing heavier and heavier. He coughed, sending a wave of pain across his chest that seemed to radiate from his injury, and a separate one rising from deep in his throat.

Groggy and barely aware of where he was, Ravenpaw limped into the ThunderClan camp. He noticed his Clanmates go silent as he emerged from the gorse tunnel.

Sandpaw rushed away from his side, yowling something that Ravenpaw couldn't make out. Yellowfang padded out of the medicine den, mewed something to Dustpelt, who was standing beside her, and then made her way over to Ravenpaw.