He felt sick.

What sort of cruel cat takes the lives of others and decides when its their time to end? Nightpaw's jaws twisted into a silent growl at the answer: the truth-teller of DarkClan, the single most powerful cat within the Clan, an earthly being capable of dictating the fates of others. Those three prisoners wouldn't survive the deputy race. It was despicable, enough to make him retch.

But he knew there was no other way. Rebellion now would only hurt him and the few cats he'd told; freeing the prisoners would almost certainly place blame on him. How many more would be killed before a plan to stop DarkClan's twisted mission could be put into place?

And, above all, what sort of plan did Sootstar want him to go through with? Their meetings always consisted of arguments about how nothing was getting done, and not how it should be done. A fighting force to kill those within the Clan who refused to believe in StarClan - a reverse of Heatherfur's actions so many centuries ago? An internal takedown, a coup? And what then, once DarkClan no longer existed?

The High Rocks loomed up on the horizon. Nightpaw stopped, shaking his head to clear the thoughts, letting the patrol move on ahead.

"Nightpaw?" Lionmask's showed no emotion, yet his voice carried a care Nightpaw didn't know the tom possessed.

"I need a moment to think over my decision," Nightpaw replied. "It's quieter here."

The giant tom paused, but eventually nodded and rejoined the patrol, leaving Nightpaw sure that he would at least get a short moment alone to gather himself. Hailwatcher and Dawnstar would undoubtedly want to know of his choices and he wasn't sure if he was ready to face his mentor just yet.

As he sat there, completely alone in the flatness where the moors of old MoorClan and the rocky land of old SeaClan met, the black tom found himself shaking. Images flashed through his mind, faster than he could comprehend them, a mixture of fear and anger and hatred that burned deep within him. Roxanne's weight, Flamepaw's scar, Sedgecloud's fearful eyes - everything came together then.

He lifted his head to the grey sky above, afraid he might explode, and let out a yowl.

When the sound was no more, he closed his eyes, exhaustion suddenly pulling at his limbs. He found himself shaking, this time from a combination of cold and weariness.

He rose to his paws but, startled, jumped back. Before him stood Wrenpaw, her face a mixture of worry and pain. Only a trace of the disgust from earlier remained.

"We can't save them, can we?"

Nightpaw shook his head.

"What if we put together a rescue team?" she asked.

"Too dangerous. They'll know it was us." Another chill ran through him and Wrenpaw padded closer, sharing her warmth.

"But what if it was possible?" she persisted. "I'm sure there are others who would support our cause. And then we wouldn't have to watch innocent cats die."

Nightpaw sighed. "Dawnstar would find a way to continue the deputy race. Finding new prisoners, taking tributes from the Clan, perhaps even something more gruesome than that. I'd rather risk prisoners than good DarkClan cats."

Wrenpaw's eyes flashed with a sudden disdain. "You'd sacrifice innocent cats just so you can stay in the clear?"

"That's not what I meant - "

"No, that's exactly what you meant! You'd watch others die to keep yourself safe!" Her voice rose to a piercing shriek as she spoke.

"Wrenpaw, listen to me!" he growled, a twinge of annoyance filling him. How does she not understand the risks of what we are doing?

"No, you listen to me," she hissed. "If you think for a second that I will support someone who is just like the rest of them - "

"So you would rather have supporters of StarClan killed before any plan can be put into motion just so that innocent prisoners - cats who probably won't survive after the time they've spent in the cave - can get out alive? Those cats won't help our cause and us dying in their place won't help anyone!"

"Then when will this plan of action begin?" she retorted. "I'd bet anything you kept StarClan to yourself for moons before telling anyone and, even now that you have, you continue to sit around, biding your time while others die."

Nightpaw narrowed his eyes, tired of arguing with the she-cat.

"I haven't spoken with Sootstar for a moon now! What would you have me do?"

"Why not actually get a force together?" she suggested, eyes still blazing. "Or do anything to figure out who is on our side and who isn't. Sitting around and watching the Clan isn't going to do much if you refuse to talk to any of them."

Nightpaw's rebuttal halted in his throat.

Wrenpaw acknowledged her victory with a flick of an ear. "The longer we wait, the more good and innocent cats die."

He sighed. "You're right." His tense shoulders fell in defeat.

She padded closer, breathing out a heavy sigh. "I just don't want to watch you hate yourself for the positions they put you in. What they make you do... Seeing you send prisoners to their deaths almost broke me, and I know it almost broke you too."

Nightpaw let out a shuddering breath, the image of Sedgecloud once more fresh in his mind.

"Remember the story of Acornstar?" she said quietly.

"How could I forget?"

"I think you could learn a lesson or two from him, is all."

The tom blinked in surprise. Then, overwhelmed by a sudden all-consuming warmth, he pushed his head into her chest. Her breath caught in her throat but she purred gently all the same, swiping her tongue over his ears affectionately.

"What would I do without you?" Nightpaw asked, touching his nose to hers.

Wrenpaw flicked her tail teasingly. "You wouldn't be able to catch mice, that's for sure. Which reminds me that that's what I should be doing."

She got to her paws gracefully, glancing over her shoulder as she padded off in the direction of the moors. "I'll see you back at camp?"

Nightpaw nodded, filled with a new urgency to put StarClan's plan - whatever it was - into motion.

//

The day of the final battle round came too quickly. Just like with the previous round, many in the Clan waited with bated breath, excitement filling the air as DarkClan wondered who their next deputy would be. A notable few - Snailwhisker, Birchfrost, and Cherrypool - appeared disinterested; a mask for the disgust Nightpaw assumed they might be feeling. He positioned himself next to the nursery as the camp centre cleared.

"Is it going to be scary?" Webkit asked, sitting down beside him. Her littermate, Crowkit, took up a place beside her, entire body quivering. Nightpaw closed his eyes, attempting to quell the protective urge that rose into him.

"It will be..." Nightpaw paused, aware of Hailwatcher's eyes on him. "A worthwhile experience." He wrapped his tail around the two kits, bringing them closer. With them sitting at his paws, he might be better able to protect them - or, from anyone else's perspective, explain the events of the deputy race more thoroughly. The two caretakers sat on either side of him, glancing at him curiously but making no move to take the kits.

"DarkClan!" A hush fell upon the gathered cats. "I present to you... Flintmask!"

Dawnstar's voice was cut off by the roar of cats yowling the first candidate's name. Even Oakshade, disqualified from the race, cheered loudly. Absently, Nightpaw noted that the tom sat next to Thistleshade, whose belly seemed slightly swollen.

Flintmask stepped forward as the noise died down, making a show of stretching out his back as the crowd pushed the first prisoner forward. The ginger she-cat twisted and turned, trying to get away, but she had no chance against Lionmask and Shadowpelt as they threw her into the clearing.

The prisoner's eyes grew wide, her claws out of their sheathes in a flash. Her ginger tail doubled in size, pointed straight in the air, as she backed away from Flintmask.

"This is too easy," the tom growled as he launched himself at the she-cat.

Moments later, she lay dead on the ground.

Nightpaw kept his eyes focussed on the body, once again feeling Hailwatcher's disapproving stare on him. He wrapped his tail tighter around the kits at his paws, who had fallen utterly silent.

"Well done, Flintmask." Dawnstar's voice echoed from atop the Speaking Rock. A slight pause as two guardians cleared the ginger she-cat's body from the camp; then, "Spiderthorn!"

The High Rocks shook with the force of DarkClan's yowls. Webkit and Crowkit jumped up, turning to Nightpaw with startled eyes. He only nodded in return, adding his own voice to the din; it would not do to set a bad example for the kits.

Spiderthorn held his head high as he entered the clearing, fur flat and well-groomed. His amber eyes held a confidence Nightpaw envied, and the way he got into his fighting stance showed humility despite his evident security in his fighting skills.

The grey tom Nightpaw chose as Spiderthorn's opponent approached the ring in an eerily similar fashion. The prisoner held himself with a certain pride, eyes full of dignity despite the pain that clouded them. He, too, dropped into a fighting stance immediately.

To Nightpaw's surprise, he saw his father waver for a moment, something he had never seen before. Then, the tom narrowed his eyes and pounced.

The prisoner avoided the pounce easily, as if having calculated Spiderthorn's pounce. He turned, almost leisurely, bringing his claws down on the candidate's flank as he passed.

Spiderthorn let out a hiss of pain and the Clan gasped as red beads of blood appeared atop the tom's fur. Placing his attention back on his opponent, the black guardian leapt again, this time aiming for a spot beside his opponent.

This time, the grey tom miscalculated, stepping into Spiderthorn's line of fire instead of dodging it. Spiderthorn's claws hit the prisoner's face, shoulder, and side in rapid fire - one, two, three - before slamming into the ground. The black tom circled back to attack once more, but the grey tom, despite his injuries, continued to move quickly.

Nightpaw heard a sharp intake of breath from Webkit as the toms began to circle each other, each holding the other's gaze intently. He could almost see both toms theorizing what the other's next move would be, and the best way to avoid his attack.

The clouds continued to shift high above, revealing patches of clear blue sky between their shadowy outlines. A bird called somewhere further off, the sound high and clear in the otherwise silent camp. In front of Nightpaw, Webkit and Crowkit shifted impatiently.

The prisoner struck first, no match for Spiderthorn's patience. He leapt into the air, diving for Spiderthorn head on. A victorious smirk passed over Spiderthorn's face as he jumped up to meet his opponent, claws outstretched to catch the tom's throat.

Then, faster than Nightpaw could blink, the prisoner twisted in mid-air, avoiding the death blow at the last moment, and raked his claws down Spiderthorn's side as he flew past. The black tom fell in a heap on the ground, cocky grin wiped from his face.

Nightpaw could not bring himself to look away from the spectacle even as his father struggled to bring himself to his paws. His own limbs felt like they were made of rock, guilt and disbelief weighing him down even as his mind urged him to do something.

The grey tom wheeled around, narrowing his eyes with pleasure at the sight of his opponent on the ground.

With a vicious snarl, he pounced.

// What's this? A mid-week update? :D

So... Umm... Cliffhanger. Sorry.

This chapter was just full of surprises. Even when I was writing it I didn't actually plan for most of this to happen. Who knew Wrenpaw could be so sassy? Or that Flintmask would beat his opponent so quickly? I certainly didn't...

I've been thinking about creating a guide for Unmasked and its characters. The only thing is it would create a lot of spoilers... But I've been on a lot of wikis lately and I love how quickly you can look up information about a character if you're coming back to a story. Thoughts? It would be a lot of work but I'd be willing to do it (: