The weight on her shoulders slowly lifted, but Lightpaw had no strength to get to her paws. Her mind whirled with images, of blood on a tabby pelt and blank, staring copper eyes.

"Lightpaw?" The voice sounded far away and the cream face in front of her was hazy. There were others too, a splash of brown and grey and black.

"Lightpaw, I'm going to help you into the medic's den." Cinderblossom's voice was soft, the brush of her tail over Lightpaw's back almost comforting.

The tortoiseshell shook her head. "No."

"Lightpaw, I know Reedpaw was your friend," Sprucetail cut in, her voice more firm. "But I can't let you lay here for the rest of the day."

"Please, let me help you," Cinderblossom said, pushing her shoulder to Lightpaw's own in an effort to help her up. Still, the tortoiseshell refused.

"He's in there." Her words dripped hatred.

They all paused around her. She let her eyes wander over them, vision clearing slightly. Sprucetail looked torn, while Cinderblossom's face held a heartbreakingly sad expression. Behind them, she could just make out the worried forms of Oats, Crisp, and Robin.

"Let's move you somewhere more private," Sprucetail decided. "I'll get Mothpelt to check on you there."

Lightpaw found herself in a pseudo-den with bramble walls, their branches intertwining slightly overhead. The snow was still able to sift its way through, but the ground remained mostly brown beneath her paws. Outside the bramble thickets stood Killian, who seemed to be sitting guard. A twinge of annoyance at being treated like a prisoner joined the grief and shock swirling inside of her.

Mothpelt found her by sunhigh, herbs clamped tightly in her mouth. One sniff and Lightpaw felt the grief well up inside her, threatening to spill. The lavender was too much.

"Eat them, they'll make you feel better." Mothpelt's insistent gaze never wavered as Lightpaw fought back the sadness. She thought of the den Reedpaw occupied – had occupied – in DarkClan and the way it had always smelled of lavender. If she'd had the strength, she would have gotten to her paws and run as far away as possible.

"Lightpaw, I need you to eat these. They'll help, I promise."

Lightpaw's eyes met Mothpelt's and the sob broke past the constriction in her chest and throat.

"He always smelled of lavender."

Mothpelt's eyes softened and the grey she-cat sat down. "Was he always sorting herbs?"

Lightpaw shook her head. "No, but he was always doing something – collecting herbs, sorting them, talking to the cats who visited him, healing them."

"Did you speak with him often?"

Lightpaw twitched her whiskers bitterly. "He was one of my closest friends."

Mothpelt nodded in understanding. "He sounds like quite the friend."

"He is." The scent of lavender ebbed slightly. "I mean, he was."

Reedpaw. Her friend, her confidante, the cat she went to with everything. She remembered his worry over being a good enough healer for the Clan, remembering the correct herbs and their uses. He tried so hard, for so little reward.

And now, he was gone.

Mothpelt remained silent, letting the younger she-cat grieve. When she finally spoke, her story was of sorrow.

"Wrenflight was my littermate. For moons, she had also been my closest friend, and Nightchaser's too. She kept both of us believing that the rebellion would work, that we could fight against Dawnstar and the ideals DarkClan tried to thrust onto us. She believed we could all have a better life after it was all over.

"That night, on what we thought was the darkest of nights, she lost her life. Dawnstar killed her right before our eyes. I've never seen Nightchaser so broken. I've never felt so broken. Wrenflight died for our cause, but Dawnstar didn't kill her because she was instrumental to it. She killed her because she knew that Wrenflight was important to Nightchaser, to me, to so many others fighting for our freedom.

"Reedpaw... He was important to DarkClan too. It doesn't excuse Nightchaser's actions, but I just want you to understand why it was him and not someone else. Nightchaser hit DarkClan where it hurts, and he hit you where it hurts too. I don't know if this changes your mind about the rebels, about us, and I wouldn't blame you if it did. I know how it feels to lose someone so close to you, and it's alright to be angry, and shocked, and grieving."

Lightpaw closed her eyes, the emotions roiling inside of her. Her head hurt with the events of the day; her body ached with a need to run; her claws itched to sink into Reedpaw's killer's flesh.

"But don't let it get to the core of who you are," Mothpelt continued. "Wrenflight's death hurt me but I didn't let myself lose control; Nightchaser was driven mad by her loss. It's up to you to remain strong and never lose sight of what it is you want your life to be."

When Lightpaw opened her eyes, the medic was turning to leave.

"Eat the herbs," she said again. "They will help you, at least for now."

Lightpaw's last thought before the herbs took effect was of Reedpaw receiving his full name, and the sadness as she realized he never would.

//

The next days were torture. Grief followed her like a black cloud, scaring anyone and everyone away. It enveloped her, reminding her not only of Reedpaw but of Yewpaw too. She felt like she had lost much more than that – the idea of returning to DarkClan suddenly seemed impossible.

The eyes followed her too, some curious, others condescending, all watchful. Hazel and Webpaw did not show her the slightest bit of kindness; Leo tentatively approached her, offering a shoulder to cry on after the recent loss of his own littermate; Beetlepaw looked disapproving, as if she was throwing off their mission. Lightpaw felt guilt at that, too, that continuing the mission seemed so futile to her all of a sudden.

Sprucetail, Bronco, Killian, and Jaystrike watched her in turns. She was always aware of one of them near her, as if they were waiting for her to strike. She had seen Nightchaser only once since the day he killed Reedpaw, and the itching in her claws and burning in her stomach had risen to new heights. Still, she had not attempted to kill him. Whenever she remembered the blood of Jet between her claws, she realized she did not want to kill him. Yet, the hatred remained.

The only cats who didn't seem to judge her with their gaze were the former gang cats, and so Lightpaw found herself eating freshkill with them one sunny leafbare day. Flea, named for her flea-ridden pelt, and Penny, who had grown on Lightpaw since her catastrophic battle skills had been displayed, pushed the half-eaten crow closer to her.

"Eat up, you're getting thin," Flea said, her own pelt clinging to her ribs.

Lightpaw took a grateful bite. It had been just over a quarter moon since she learned of Reedpaw's death and her reflection had taken her by surprise. She was, indeed, thinner than she remembered, and her pelt lacked its usual lustre.

"Penny, what do you think those two are doing?" Flea scratched at her ear with a hind paw, then flicked it at two cats on the other side of camp. Lightpaw followed their gazes to see Gannet and Beetlepaw swatting at each other playfully, purring the whole while.

"I'm not sure," Penny said. "Maybe they're just fighting over the last bit of freshkill?"

Lightpaw snorted. "That's my littermate, and she doesn't fight over freshkill. She just takes it."

Flea twitched her whiskers in amusement. "And that's my flea-brained littermate. He's been absolutely infatuated with Beetlepaw, anytime I talk to him he's always going on about her."

The tortoiseshell flicked an ear; this was news to her. "I'm actually surprised she gets along well with anyone, let alone a tom. She's the most stubborn cat I've ever met."

"I doubt that, seeing as Gannet is the most stubborn cat you'll ever meet," Flea replied, taking another bite of crow.

Penny, usually quiet, chimed in. "Maybe that's why they're so perfect for each other."

The idea of Beetlepaw being perfect for anyone made Lightpaw want to gag. Though the grief still weighed heavily on her, she found herself enjoying the sunny afternoon and their light-hearted chatter.

"Well, I better get going," Flea said, finishing off the crow. "I asked Jaystrike to give me some extra training today. Do either of you want to join in?"

Penny's fighting skills were dismal at best but she nodded and padded off in the direction of Jaystrike. Lightpaw rose to her paws more slowly, shaking her head.

"I have a patrol to be on," she explained. "But I'll catch you later?"

Flea nodded, whiskers twitching happily. "Of course! Someone's got to keep an eye on our mouse-brained littermates, right?"

Lightpaw joined Leo at the camp entrance, where they waited for the rest of the patrol. As soon as she sat down beside him, she noticed Hazel and Webpaw shooting daggers in her direction. The tortoiseshell shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to make of it.

Leo purred. "Don't worry about them, they're just jealous." Beetlepaw had told Lightpaw just as much.

"But why?" Lightpaw asked. "I'm really nothing special."

"Are you kidding?" Leo asked incredulously. "You're an amazing fighter, you can hunt pretty well, and you're probably one of the most attractive she-cats in camp."

Hazel and Webpaw, having overheard his comment, intensified their glares. Lightpaw's pelt burned.

"Oh, umm, I didn't realize you thought that way of me," she mumbled.

The ginger tom flicked his tail. "Well, there's also the fact that they've been fighting over me for a couple of moons now. It looks like they've banded together now that they have a common adversary." He looked at Lightpaw almost adoringly and she shifted her paws uncomfortably, eager for the rest of the patrol to appear.

Roxanne bounded over to them in a few short strides, Killian appeared out of nowhere, striding over lazily, and Sprucetail joined them shortly after, moving with her usual grace. Lightpaw stared at her, wishing she could one day be as powerful as the black she-cat.

"We should be off, I think there's a storm rolling in," Sprucetail said, sniffing the air. "We'll be stopping to hunt along the way, the freshkill pile's a little low."

The snow, higher than the last time Lightpaw patrolled the area, impeded their movement only slightly, and they soon arrived at the small, still frozen lake. Sprucetail communicated the plan to them with her tail – they would move around the lake, stopping to hunt where possible.

No sooner had she done this, she dropped into a hunter's crouch. Jumping forwards, she swore loudly as the shrew scrambled out of her grasp.

Roxanne, however, shot forward and captured the shrew with a single paw.

"Good catch," Sprucetail praised.

They continued on. A snow-white bird, alarmed at their approach, took off and Leo leaped for it, hooking it with a claw. Lightpaw congratulated him for the brilliant catch and regretted it soon after when he licked his chest modestly and gave her that same adoring look as before.

As they travelled around the lake, it turned out that Roxanne was the best hunter amongst them. She would stop the patrol with a flick of her tail, ears turning this way and that, and suddenly she would jump and reappear with freshkill in her jaws.

"Looks like Roxanne's stealth far outmatches yours," Killian teased Sprucetail, but the black she-cat payed him no mind. Lightpaw noticed that, unlike on previous patrols where Killian wove in and out of the other members, he had stayed strangely close to Sprucetail on this one.

Roxanne puffed out her chest proudly. "Thank you." The look that crossed her face was eerily similar to the one Leo had given Lightpaw. Realizing she had yet to catch something, the tortoiseshell turned to the task at hand.

By the end of their patrol, they had managed to catch two shrews, a bird, a mouse, and a vole between them.

"Nice work everyone," Sprucetail said, surveying their small stock. "It seems like there was more prey out today, perhaps newleaf is closer than we think."

"Fighting DarkClan would be easier without all of this snow around us," Killian agreed, scooping up some of the freshkill. Roxanne and Leo picked up the rest.

As Lightpaw moved to help, Sprucetail lay a gentle, yet firm, tail over her shoulders. "Go ahead to camp, Lightpaw and I will be along shortly." The others obeyed without protest, though Roxanne gave Sprucetail a reproachful look.

Lightpaw's heart beat wildly. Why was Sprucetail holding her back? She matched her pace to the she-cat's.

"I know you've been grieving, and I know what it feels like to lose someone close to you," Sprucetail began. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Lightpaw nodded her head solemnly, heart rate calming slightly.

"There is, however, still the question of your allegiance."

The tortoiseshell tripped over her own paws, startled. "My what?"

Sprucetail purred, turning to face her. "You play a good game, I'll give you that. But I was raised in DarkClan too. That mask of yours – or Beetlepaw's – doesn't fool me."

Lightpaw gulped. So Sprucetail had believed Nightchaser all along. Why had she let them stay in camp for so long?

"My littermate, Thistleshade, and her mate, Oakshade, have been passing information to us since the rebellion," Sprucetail continued. "I know I can tell you this because I've seen your faith in DarkClan slipping while you were here, and Thistleshade has told me of your reluctance to kill in the Clan. When you arrived here, shaken from killing a cat in self-defence, I knew you weren't like the rest of them. Beetlepaw, for all her arrogance, wouldn't kill a cat in cold blood either."

Lightpaw stared at the dark she-cat wide-eyed, unsure whether she should flee or stay as still as possible. Her mind whirred: Sprucetail had known all along, yet had done nothing to turn them in. She had let them participate in practice, eat from the freshkill pile, makes friends with the others in camp.

"Only Bronco, Jaystrike, Roxanne, and I know," the she-cat said. "We've been keeping information from Nightchaser to keep his erraticism under control. If we had told him you were spies he would have killed you right away."

"Why are you keeping us safe if you know we're spying on you?" Lightpaw blurted out.

Sprucetail twitched her whiskers. "Because I've known both of you since you were kits. You, especially, listened earnestly to Nightchaser's tales. You've refused to kill, despite that fact that you could be killed for doing so. You were kind to others – to Thistleshade, to Rainpaw, to Reedpaw. Don't think those things went unnoticed."

"I don't understand," Lightpaw said. "If I wanted to, I could run back to DarkClan right now and tell them everything."

Sprucetail shook her head knowingly. "You wouldn't because you wouldn't leave your littermate behind on her own. You also wouldn't because you don't agree with the way Dawnstar runs the Clan – you were appalled by her treatment of Rainpaw and Stormpaw." Lightpaw stared at the she-cat; she really did know everything.

"You also know you can't outrun me," Sprucetail pointed out, "but I think there are larger things at play here. You've grown to care about the cats here."

"And if I proved you wrong in all of these?" Lightpaw asked quietly, her voice wavering along with her confidence.

Sprucetail shrugged. "We have nearly thirty cats on our side waiting to fight. DarkClan, including the pregnant she-cats, has less. If you ran right now, we would attack by nightfall."

Lightpaw shook with fear. All that paranoia, the feeling of constantly being watched, had been real. She and Beetlepaw had never had the upperhand.

But had Lightpaw ever truly wanted to spy on the rebels? She remembered the dream she'd had before Jet attacked the kittypets and her inability to answer Nightchaser's question. Her horror at having killed a cat in self-defense was not something any other DarkClan cat would have felt. And, despite her trying to convince herself that she was trying to befriend the cats here as a way to spy on them, she found she actually enjoyed their company.

Her dawning realization must have shown because Sprucetail rose to her paws.

"It's been a long day. Why don't we head back to camp?"

Lightpaw gazed briefly at the horizon, in the direction of DarkClan's camp. The sun was slowly beginning to set, painting the sky in daffodil and lavender.

She followed Sprucetail instead.