Crowfeather's Trial

The yowls and screeches of battle rose all around Crowfeather. The air was thick with the stench of blood. As far as he could see in all directions, the ground was covered in tussling cats, and beside Crowfeather lay the body of his daughter, Hollyleaf, her black fur soaked in her own blood. Recognition tingled through his pads.

This is the Great Battle! Crowfeather thought, realizing that he was dreaming. It’s exactly as I remember it.

The memory grew sharper, even more painful, as he saw Breezepelt leap onto Lionblaze, catching him off-balance and taking him to the ground and raking his claws along his cheek. “You’re not as strong as I expected,” Breezepelt gloated.

Crowfeather charged forward, hearing Ivypool pleading with Breezepelt not to destroy the Clans.

“Lionblaze should never have been born,” Breezepelt told her. “None of them should…”

Then his tail flicked triumphantly, spitefully, toward Hollyleaf’s body. “She’s dead; now it’s your turn, Lionblaze.” And then he bit into Lionblaze’s neck.

Finally reaching his sons, Crowfeather gripped Breezepelt’s shoulders with his claws. “This has to stop!” he yowled as he dragged him off his other son.

But then the dream changed. As Crowfeather released Breezepelt, and Lionblaze dived back into the battle, Breezepelt took a step forward, then turned to face Crowfeather, whose neck fur rose at the look in his son’s eyes. Before he could react, Breezepelt raised a paw and slashed his claws down Crowfeather’s face.

Dazzling light, unimaginable pain, exploded inside Crowfeather’s head and faded, leaving him in darkness. I’m blind! Breezepelt blinded me… Does he hate me that much?

For a moment Crowfeather was too stunned to do more than crouch close to the ground, feeling a pelt sticky with blood pressing against his side. That must be Hollyleaf’s body, he thought. He knew this wasn’t what had happened in the waking world.

“Now you’ve got what you deserve!” Breezepelt taunted him. His voice sounded unnaturally loud, as if it was echoing inside Crowfeather’s mind. “For never loving your WindClan mate, and for choosing your ThunderClan kits over me. Why did you do that, Crowfeather?”

Feeling blood trickle from his ruined eyes, Crowfeather couldn’t answer his son’s challenge. I hardly know Lionblaze and Jayfeather… but I couldn’t let Breezepelt kill my other son. Could I? There would have been no way back for Breezepelt if he had killed Lionblaze. But if Breezepelt can’t see that, can there ever be any help for him?

Dizziness swept over Crowfeather, and he felt the scene shift around him. The shrieks of battle faded, though he could sense that some cat was still close by. Maybe more than one, he thought, peering around uselessly through the black fog of his blindness.

Then, gradually, the darkness Breezepelt’s claws had created began to lift. The forest swam into Crowfeather’s vision, lit by a gray, weak dawn. Standing in front of him was a muscular dark tabby tom. Even before his sight had cleared completely, Crowfeather recognized him by his powerful shape and brown tabby pelt, and at last by his piercing ice-blue eyes.

Hawkfrost!

This was the treacherous cat from RiverClan, the cat who had supported Mudclaw when the former WindClan deputy had tried to oust Onestar from the leadership of his Clan. The cat who had given Hollyleaf her fatal wounds.

Rage surged through Crowfeather, driving out the pain in his eyes. It’s because of you, you piece of fox dung, that I’ll never know my daughter!

Summoning every scrap of his strength, Crowfeather launched himself at Hawkfrost, but the sleek tabby tom simply darted aside, his scarred muzzle curling in contempt.

Crowfeather charged again, and again Hawkfrost nimbly stepped aside. “I’m too quick for you, rabbit-chaser,” he sneered. “Give it up, before you make me angry.”

Crowfeather knew his vision was still too blurred for him to fight effectively. It’s a dream, he told himself. I can’t really take vengeance for Hollyleaf’s death. But his grief and fury propelled him forward to attack Hawkfrost one more time.

Hawkfrost slipped aside with a disdainful twitch of his tail-tip. As Crowfeather landed from his leap, he felt his body slam into another cat. He lost his balance and fell, paws flailing, and looked up into the face of his son Breezepelt.