A Dangerous Path Page 15

  “Of course. Which of this pack of traitors could I ask to escort me?”

  Fireheart swallowed. Gently he meowed, “Your Clan are loyal, Bluestar. All of us.”

  Bluestar shook her head stubbornly. “I went to Highstones, and I spoke with StarClan.”

  “But why?” Fireheart was feeling more and more confused. “I thought you no longer wanted to share tongues with StarClan.”

  The old cat drew herself up. “I do not. I went to challenge them. I wanted to ask how they could justify what they have done to me, when I have served them all my life and tried to do their will. And to demand an explanation for the things that are happening in the forest.”

  Fireheart gazed at her in disbelief, amazed that his leader had dared to challenge the spirits of their warrior ancestors.

  “I lay beside the Moonstone and StarClan came to me,” Bluestar went on. “They did not justify themselves—how could they? There is no justification for what they have done to me. But they told me something….”

  Fireheart leaned closer. “What?”

  “They said that there is evil loose in the forest. They spoke of a ‘pack.’ They told me that it will bring more death and destruction than the forest has ever seen before.”

  “What did they mean?” Fireheart whispered. Surely there had been enough death and destruction already, with the fire and the floods?

  Bluestar lowered her head. “I don’t know.”

  “But we must find out!” Fireheart exclaimed, his mind whirling. “Perhaps they mean the dog—but a dog couldn’t do damage on that scale. And what about ‘pack’? Maybe…yes, maybe they were talking about ShadowClan. You know how Tigerstar vowed to take revenge on us. Maybe he’s planning an attack. Or Leopardstar,” he added, still trying to cling to his hope that Tigerstar had lost interest in harming his old Clan.

  Bluestar shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Fireheart narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to work out the meaning of what StarClan had told her and make plans to stop the attack if it came. “We have to do something,” he insisted. “We could set a watch on the borders, and we should increase the patrols.” He wasn’t sure how he was going to that with so few warriors. “We need to make sure there’s always a guard on the camp when…”

  His voice trailed off as he realized Bluestar wasn’t listening. She crouched motionless, her eyes fixed on her paws. “Bluestar?”

  The ThunderClan leader looked up at him, her eyes bottomless pools of despair. “What is the point?” she rasped. “StarClan have decreed that death will come. A dark force walks this forest, and even StarClan themselves cannot control it. Or will not. There is nothing we can do.”

  A shudder went through Fireheart. Was Bluestar right that StarClan were not powerful enough to avert the doom that was coming? For a few heartbeats he almost shared his leader’s despair.

  Then he raised his head. He felt as though he were clawing his way up from the depths of black water. “No,” he growled. “I won’t believe that. There is always something that a cat can do, as long as he has courage and loyalty.”

  “Courage? Loyalty? In ThunderClan?”

  “Yes, Bluestar.” Fireheart tried to put all the force of his belief into his reply. “No cat but Tigerstar has ever wanted to betray you.”

  Bluestar held his gaze for a moment before looking away. Her tail flicked wearily. “Do what you want, Fireheart. It won’t make any difference. Nothing will. Now leave me.”

  Fireheart murmured a farewell. Backing away, he noticed the poppy seeds Cinderpelt had left earlier, still lying neatly on a leaf. He nodded toward them. “Eat your poppy seeds, Bluestar,” he mewed. “You need to rest. Tomorrow everything will look better.”

  He took the leaf between his teeth and carefully moved it into Bluestar’s reach. Bluestar gave a disdainful sniff, but as Fireheart left the den he glanced back to see her bend over and lick up the seeds.

  Outside, he gave his pelt a shake, trying to get rid of the creeping horror he had felt as Bluestar revealed the message of StarClan. His paws carried him instinctively in the direction of Cinderpelt’s den. He would have to tell the medicine cat that Bluestar was back, and he wanted to discuss what his leader had told him.

  Only then did he remember that more than a moon ago, Cinderpelt had told him of a dream in which she heard the words pack, pack, and kill, kill.

  CHAPTER 16

  Cinderpelt could tell Fireheart nothing more, nor suggest what the evil in the forest might be.

  “StarClan wouldn’t repeat the warning if it weren’t important,” she meowed, her troubled blue gaze resting on Fireheart. “All we can do is keep watch.”

  “At least Bluestar is back safely.” Fireheart tried to encourage her, but it was a poor effort. Both cats were aware of the shapeless, voiceless threat hanging over the Clan they loved.

  In the days that followed, Fireheart did his best to set up a system of patrols that would give the Clan ample warning if ShadowClan or RiverClan decided to attack. There were barely enough warriors for the regular patrols and sentry duties, and Fireheart felt his fur grow thin with worry as the season moved on. The rain gave way to crisp, dry weather, but there was a thin rime of frost on the ground each morning and the remaining leaves dropped steadily from the trees. The brief recovery of the forest was over, and prey became scarce again.

  One morning, about half a moon after the confrontation with WindClan, Fireheart was about to lead out the dawn patrol with Brackenfur and Cloudpaw when Bluestar came padding from her den. “I’ll lead the patrol this morning,” she meowed, and went to wait by the entrance to the camp.

  “Bluestar leading a patrol?” muttered Cloudpaw. “That ought to go well. Watch out for flying hedgehogs!”

  Fireheart aimed a cuff at the side of his head, but he couldn’t help feeling as surprised as his apprentice that Bluestar should start taking up Clan duties again. “Show some respect,” he ordered. “She’s your leader, and she’s been ill.”

  Cloudpaw grunted. Fireheart was about to join his leader when an idea struck him. “Listen, Cloudpaw, you want to be a warrior, don’t you?” The white cat nodded eagerly. “Well, then, this is your chance to impress Bluestar. We’ll take another apprentice as well. Go and find Swiftpaw.”

  Cloudpaw’s eyes lit up with excitement, and he dashed off toward the apprentices’ den.

  Fireheart watched him go, then turned to Brackenfur. “Can you get Longtail?” He knew the pale tabby warrior would be pleased to have a chance to show off his apprentice’s skills. “He’s due to go out on hunting patrol—you don’t mind swapping duties with him, do you?”

  “No, that’s fine, Fireheart.”

  Brackenfur disappeared into the warriors’ den, and a moment later Longtail appeared. The two apprentices joined their mentors, and all four cats padded over to where Bluestar was waiting.

  Her tail twitched. “Sure you’ve got the right cats, Fireheart?” she inquired acidly. Without waiting for a reply she led the way out of the camp and up the ravine.

  As he followed the blue-gray she-cat toward the RiverClan border, Fireheart could almost imagine that the last few seasons had never happened, and he was still a young warrior going out on patrol without any of the responsibilities that troubled him now. But the fire-scarred forest reminded him that there was no going back.

  The frost was beginning to melt as the sun rose over the river, though the leaves still crackled beneath the cats’ paws as they padded through the shadows. As they went, Fireheart tested the two apprentices on what they could see and scent, hoping to demonstrate their hunting abilities to their leader. They answered confidently, but Bluestar gave no sign that she had heard.

  The ThunderClan leader paused when they came within sight of the river and stood gazing at the opposite bank. “I wonder where they are,” she murmured, almost too quietly for Fireheart to hear. “What are they doing now?”

  Fireheart did not need to see the sadness in her eyes t
o know that she was thinking of Mistyfoot and Stonefur. He glanced uneasily at the other cats to see if they had noticed, but Swiftpaw and Cloudpaw were sniffing at an old water-vole hole, while Longtail was watching the movements of a squirrel high in the branches of a tree.

  After a few moments Bluestar turned and followed the border upstream toward Sunningrocks. Fireheart noticed that she kept casting glances into RiverClan territory. But everything was quiet. They saw no RiverClan cats at all.

  Eventually Sunningrocks came within sight. The smoothly sloping boulders seemed deserted. Then, as Fireheart watched, a cat climbed up from the opposite side and stood silhouetted against the sky.

  Fireheart stopped dead, his fur prickling with the sense of danger. Though he could not make out the color of her fur, there was no mistaking that aggressive stance, the arrogant tilt of her head, and her long, winding tail. It was Leopardstar.

  A couple of other cats had joined Leopardstar, and as the ThunderClan patrol drew closer, Fireheart recognized Stonefur, the RiverClan deputy, and the warrior Blackclaw. “Bluestar!” he hissed. “What are RiverClan doing on Sunningrocks?” But Fireheart felt his heart sink with dread when he saw the way that Bluestar was looking at the RiverClan deputy—not the challenging glare of a leader faced with enemy cats on her territory, but the admiring gaze of a queen who has seen her beloved kit become a noble warrior.

  Bluestar padded forward until she reached the base of the rock where Leopardstar waited. Fireheart followed.

  “What do they think they’re doing?” Cloudpaw muttered indignantly behind him. “Sunningrocks is ours!”

  Fireheart shot him a warning glance to keep silent, and the apprentice dropped back beside Swiftpaw and Longtail, while Fireheart went to stand at Bluestar’s shoulder.

  “Good day, Bluestar,” Leopardstar meowed, her voice confident. “I’ve been waiting since moonset to see ThunderClan cats, but I never hoped that one of them would be you.”

  There was an edge of mockery in her tone, and Fireheart winced that the head of his Clan could be scorned so openly by other leaders.

  “What are you doing here?” Bluestar asked. “Sunningrocks belongs to ThunderClan.” But her voice was low and unchallenging, as if she did not really believe what she was saying—or did not care.

  “Sunningrocks has always belonged to RiverClan,” Leopardstar retorted, “even though we allowed ThunderClan to hunt here for a while. But ThunderClan stands in our debt after the help we gave you at the time of the fire. Today we claim that debt, Bluestar. We are taking Sunningrocks back.”

  Fireheart’s fur bristled with fury. If Leopardstar thought she could stroll onto Sunningrocks without a fight, she was mistaken! Whipping around, he hissed, “Swiftpaw, you’re fastest. Run back to camp and fetch reinforcements.”

  “But I want to fight!” Swiftpaw protested.

  “Then get back here fast!”

  The apprentice dashed off into the trees. Leopardstar tracked him with narrowed eyes, and Fireheart knew she must realize why he had gone. It was essential to hold off the battle for as long as possible. “Keep her talking,” he murmured to Bluestar. “Swiftpaw’s gone for help.”

  He was not sure if Bluestar had heard him. She was staring at Stonefur again.

  “Well, Bluestar?” Leopardstar challenged. “Do you agree? Do you allow RiverClan the right to Sunningrocks?”

  For a few heartbeats Bluestar did not reply. As the silence stretched out, more RiverClan cats crept up to the top of the rock and emerged to stand beside their leader. Fireheart’s heart lurched when he saw that one of them was Graystripe. His gaze locked with his friend’s, and he saw in Graystripe’s appalled face a message as clear as if the gray warrior had yowled it to the skies. I don’t want to fight you!

  “No.” Bluestar spoke at last, and to Fireheart’s relief her voice was firm. “Sunningrocks belongs to ThunderClan.”

  “Then you’ll have to fight us for it,” growled Leopardstar.

  Fireheart heard Longtail whisper at his shoulder, “They’ll make crowfood of us!”

  At the same moment, Leopardstar uttered a bloodcurdling yowl and launched herself down the face of the rock at Bluestar. The two cats crashed to the ground, spitting and clawing. Fireheart sprang forward to help his leader, but before he reached her a warrior crashed into his side, bowling him over and sinking his teeth into Fireheart’s shoulder. Fireheart scrabbled against the RiverClan cat’s belly with his hind paws, desperate to break his grip, and slashed his claws at his enemy’s throat. The tabby warrior let go and backed off, yowling.

  Fireheart spun around, looking for Bluestar, but she was nowhere to be seen. He spotted Longtail in the midst of a heaving mass of cats, but before he could do anything to help he caught a glimpse of Blackclaw springing toward him. He managed to avoid the warrior’s outstretched claws, and as the RiverClan cat fell awkwardly Fireheart sprang on him and bit hard into his ear.

  Blackclaw scrabbled on the ground, trying to escape Fireheart’s grip. Fireheart raked his claws across his back, only to lose his hold as another cat barreled into him from the side. He went down and felt teeth meet in his tail.

  Longtail was right, he thought despairingly. They’ll tear us into strips!

  The ThunderClan cats were hopelessly outnumbered, and there had been no time for Swiftpaw to reach the camp and return with help. Long before reinforcements could arrive, the patrol would have been driven off or killed, and Sunningrocks would belong to RiverClan again.

  Fireheart writhed helplessly, struggling for enough space to use teeth and claws. Suddenly the weight lifted as the cat lying across his legs was yanked away. He sprang to his paws to see Cloudpaw perched on Blackclaw’s back, his claws fastened deep in the warrior’s black fur and the wild light of battle in his eyes. Blackclaw reared up on his hind legs, but he couldn’t shake the apprentice off.

  “See, Fireheart!” Cloudpaw yelled. “Do it this way—it’s easy!”

  There was no time for Fireheart to answer. He spat an insult after the other warrior, who vanished wailing among the rocks, and threw himself into the whirling mass of cats around Longtail. Fireheart dragged one warrior off him, and suddenly came face-to-face with Brackenfur as the younger warrior burst out of the trees.

  He gasped with surprise and gave fervent thanks to StarClan. Swiftpaw must have met the hunting patrol scouting near Sunningrocks, as Fireheart had ordered after Graystripe’s warning—and sent them along, bringing help long before Fireheart had dared to hope for it.

  “Where’s Bluestar?” Brackenfur called.

  “Don’t know.”

  In the moment’s respite, Fireheart looked around for his leader. There was still no sign of her, though he caught sight of Leopardstar facing up to Whitestorm on top of a rock a few fox-lengths away.

  Longtail staggered to his paws, panting for breath as he leaned against the rock face. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead and he had lost a strip of fur along his flank, but his lips were still drawn back in a snarl, and he followed Brackenfur willingly as the ginger warrior leaped into the battle.

  Fireheart was about to join them when he heard a voice calling out urgently above the noise of the fighting: “Fireheart! Fireheart!”

  He spun around to see Graystripe crouched on top of the nearest rock, a look of anguish on his broad face. “Fireheart, come here!” he yowled.

  For a heartbeat Fireheart wondered if this was a trap, and then felt ashamed of himself. His friend had avoided fighting him face-to-face; he would never snare him with a trick.

  Fireheart bounded up the smooth slope of the rock to Graystripe’s side. “What is it?”

  Graystripe pointed with his muzzle toward the other side of the rock. “Look.”

  Fireheart peered over the edge. The rock sloped down more steeply there into a narrow gully. Bluestar was crouching almost directly below him. Her fur was ruffled, and she was bleeding from one shoulder. Coming along the gully on either side, cutting off any possible escape, w
ere Mistyfoot and Stonefur.

  The RiverClan deputy slashed his claws at Bluestar without touching her. “Defend yourself!” snarled the gray tom. “Or I swear by StarClan I’ll kill you.”

  On Bluestar’s other side, Mistyfoot crept closer, her belly flat to the ground. “Are you scared to fight us?” she hissed.

  Bluestar did not move, except to turn her head from one to the other. Fireheart could not see her expression from his vantage point, but he knew she would never be able to attack her own kits.

  “I had to tell you,” Graystripe whispered beside Fireheart. “They’ll call me a traitor—but I couldn’t let them kill Bluestar.”

  Fireheart shot his friend a look of gratitude. Graystripe had no idea of the real relationship between Bluestar and these two RiverClan cats. His only motive was loyalty to his former leader.

  But Fireheart had no time to think for long about Graystripe’s tangled loyalties. He had to save Bluestar. The RiverClan cats had advanced until they were almost touching her, their fur bristling and their teeth bared in a snarl.

  “Call yourself a leader?” Stonefur sneered. “Why won’t you fight?”

  He drew back a paw to bring it raking down over Bluestar’s shoulder. At the same instant, Fireheart launched himself down the rock face. He landed hard in the gully, practically on top of Stonefur, forcing him away from Bluestar. On the Clan leader’s other side, Mistyfoot let out a screech of defiance and unsheathed her claws.

  “Stop!” Fireheart yowled. “You can’t harm Bluestar—she’s your mother!”

  CHAPTER 17

  The RiverClan warriors froze, their blue eyes wide with shock.

  “What do you mean?” Stonefur rasped. “Graypool was our mother.”

  “No, listen…” Fireheart bundled Bluestar against the rock face and stood in front of her. He could still hear the yowls and spitting of the battle on the other side of the rock, but suddenly it seemed to have nothing to do with the confrontation in this gully.

  “Bluestar gave birth to you in ThunderClan,” he meowed desperately. “But she couldn’t keep you. Your father, Oakheart, brought you to RiverClan.”