Spirit

CHAPTER NINE

"The fate of the groups?" It was that same cat again. "Rogues can't change that, you fleabrain!"

"Now you can see what he'll do if you disrespect him," Robin whispered.

"I was speaking the truth," Ivory hissed. "I was not disrespecting him in any way. I never called him a fleabrain!"

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Hawthorn asked. "Rogues can change anything they want. They don't listen to anyone outside of their own. We're the ones who can't change their decisions."

"The one time I hear you talking about me behind your back," a familiar voice hissed happily. "And you're complimenting me."

Ivory whipped herself around in unison with Robin to face Singe standing just behind the border of the camp. She could catch a few pelts behind the trees, so she knew she brought reinforcements. "What do you want?"

"I promised, didn't I?" the white and gray she-cat asked. "I always keep promises."

With a quick glance toward the beige and ginger tabby, the golden tom replied, "That's a lie and you know it. You like scaring us—crying fox—so when you actually attack, we won't be ready." He stood in a battle ready position. "You underestimate us!" He leaped forward, but a cat crashed into him from the bushes and kept him in the snow.

Robin! Ivory almost shrieked, but stopped herself. If she had learned one thing, it wasn't to make herself seem weak in front of her enemies. He's not dead yet, I don't have to be sad.

A burly gray tom leaped at her while she was distracted; a single paw pinned her down, the other paw's claws unsheathed, ready for a strike.

"STOP!" Singe suddenly roared. "Don't kill the weird one or golden one." She paused, changing the tone of her voice. "I could use them later."

The tom kept her pinned, but did as he was told and placed his other paw next to her head. This is it. This is my chance, she thought. Run away, free Robin, and run. Yet she couldn't move. Her instincts told her that trying to free herself was not a good idea, even if nobody could kill her.

All she could do was catch glimpses of the fighting cats until the Feather-Lifters drove most of the Rogues away.

"You'll see her again," the tom that pinned her muttered grotesquely. "And that's a promise she will keep." He let her go and darted across the border along with the other Rogues.

"Why did Singe order the cats not to kill us?" Robin asked, ambling clumsily toward Ivory.

"She said that she'd need us later," the she-cat attempted at a remark, but she was still terrified and confused by the fact she didn't die. "But she could've killed us right then and there."

"She's up to something." Robin's tail brushed her chin. "But for now we can just forget."

"Forget?" Ivory snapped. "There was just an ambush and you expect me to forget?" She snorted. "I might as well say cats died because of you—"

"Nobody died!" the golden tom exclaimed. "But you're right; I wasn't thinking."

~~~

Ivory and Robin were back in the den, Robin further away from her. She frowned and lay down on the ground. We probably could've changed these nests before Snow-Season struck, she thought. She sighed and lay her head down again.

Am I supposed to remember the prophecy? Why does everyone think so highly of me? Then she sprang up and gasped. "I remember!"

Robin rubbed his face with a paw. "Remember what?"

"The prophecy." She took a deep breath. "The quiet Season comes blood filled war. The kindness of hearts are no more. But few hearts come feathers to rage. To fulfill the desire of a new age."

"Stop it," the golden tom hissed, but Ivory noticed that his eyes had an excited gleam to them. "Is that the entire thing?"

"I think so."

"Then come."

Ivory followed Robin through the snowy and mildly bloodstained camp towards where they had been before.

The dark brown tom smiled when he caught the she-cat in his gaze. "You remember what the strange cats said in your dream?"

"I—uh—yes," Ivory stammered.

"Then tell me."

A rush of worry suddenly came over her. She took another shaky breath and recited, "The quiet Season comes blood filled war. The kindness of hearts are no more. But few hearts come feathers to rage. To fulfill the desire of a new age." She paused.

"Quite interesting," Hawthorn commented.

"She's not done," Robin replied. He looked towards Ivory. "Go ahead."

The she-cat continued. "Ave and ground work side by side. While a raging storm follows behind. The death of a leader, a villain, a Rogue. Comes the unity of groups, followers, and foes."

Ivory looked up and Hawthorn wore a grimace, hiding his disbelief. "I will not be calling a meeting for this this time," he said. "You are dismissed."