A Dangerous Path (3 page)

When the formal part of the meeting was over, Fireheart sprang down to the group of ThunderClan warriors at the base of the rock.

“You spoke well,” meowed Whitestorm. Sandstorm's eyes shone as she looked at Fireheart, and she pressed her muzzle against his neck.

Fireheart gave her cheek a quick lick. “It's time to go,” he meowed. “Say your good-byes, and if any cat asks, tell them that ThunderClan is doing fine.”

Throughout the clearing, the groups of cats were breaking up as all four Clans prepared to leave. Fireheart began looking around for the rest of his warriors. He caught sight of a familiar blue-gray shape and bounded across the hollow to join her.

“Hi, Mistyfoot,” he meowed. “How are you? How's Graystripe? I didn't see him here tonight.”

Graystripe had been Fireheart's first friend in ThunderClan; they had trained together as apprentices. But then Graystripe had fallen in love with Silverstream, a young RiverClan warrior, and she had died bearing his kits. Graystripe had left his own
Clan to go with them to RiverClan, and though seasons had passed, Fireheart still missed him.

“Graystripe didn't come.” The RiverClan queen sat down and curled her tail neatly around her paws. “Leopardfur wouldn't let him. She was furious about the way he behaved during the fire. She says that in his heart, he's still loyal to ThunderClan.”

Fireheart had to admit that Leopardfur was probably right. Graystripe had already asked Bluestar if he could come back to ThunderClan, but she had refused. “So how is he?” Fireheart repeated.

“He's fine,” Mistyfoot meowed. “So are the kits. He asked me to find out how you were doing after the fire. Bluestar's not seriously ill, you say?”

“No, she'll be better soon.” Fireheart tried to sound confident. It was true that Bluestar was recovering from the effects of breathing smoke, but for some moons now the ThunderClan leader's mind had been clouded. She had begun to doubt her own judgment, and even to question the loyalty of her warriors. The discovery of Tigerstar's treachery had shaken her to her core, and Fireheart couldn't help worrying about how she would react to the news that the deputy she had exiled was now leader of ShadowClan.

“I'm glad to hear that she is recovering.” Mistyfoot's mew broke into his thoughts.

Fireheart twitched his ears. “How's Crookedstar?” he asked, changing the subject. The RiverClan leader had seemed frail when he had allowed ThunderClan to shelter in his camp, and
tonight, next to Tigerstar, he looked even older than Fireheart remembered. But maybe that wasn't surprising. The RiverClan leader had had to cope with floods that had driven his cats out of their camp and with a shortage of prey because Twoleg rubbish had poisoned the river. More than all that, Graystripe's beloved Silverstream had been Crookedstar's daughter, and her death had caused him much grief.

“He's okay,” meowed Mistyfoot. “He's been through a lot recently. Mind you, I'm more concerned about Graypool,” she added, naming the cat who had raised her from kithood. “She seems so old now. I'm afraid she'll go to StarClan soon.”

Fireheart would have liked to give the young queen a comforting lick, but he was not sure how the RiverClan cat would take that from a cat of another Clan. Apart from Graypool, Fireheart was the only cat who knew that the frail RiverClan elder was not the real mother of Mistyfoot and her brother, Stonefur. Their father, Oakheart, had brought them to RiverClan when they were tiny kits, and Graypool had agreed to take care of them. Their real mother was Bluestar.

As Fireheart murmured sympathetically and said his good-byes to Mistyfoot, he couldn't help feeling that trouble was still in store for both Clans because of Bluestar's secret.

The sky was growing pale with
the first light of dawn when Fireheart and his warriors returned to the ThunderClan camp. Although Fireheart knew what he would find, it was still a shock to reach the top of the ravine and gaze down at the devastation. All the covering of gorse and fern had been stripped away by the fire. The earth floor of the camp was left exposed, surrounded by the blackened remains of the wall of thornbushes that was shored up with branches where the Clan cats had begun to repair it.

“Will it ever be the same?” Sandstorm meowed softly as she came to stand beside him.

A wave of exhaustion flooded over Fireheart as he thought of how much time and work it would take before the camp was fully rebuilt. “One day,” he promised. “We've been through bad times before. We'll survive.” He pressed his muzzle against Sandstorm's flank, taking comfort from her reassuring purr, before he led the way down the ravine.

The bush where the warriors slept was still there, but the thick canopy of twigs had been burned away. Only a few charred branches remained, the gaps between them interwoven with
sticks. Brackenfur was crouched outside, while Longtail sat on watch near the entrance to the nursery, and Dustpelt paced back and forth in front of the elders' den.

Brackenfur sprang to his paws as Fireheart and the others appeared, only to relax a moment later. “It's you,” he meowed, relief in his voice. “We've been expecting Tigerclaw all night.”

“Well, you can stop worrying,” Fireheart meowed. “He's too busy to worry about us. Tigerstar is the new leader of ShadowClan.”

Brackenfur stared in astonishment. “Great StarClan!” he said with a gasp. “I don't believe it!”

“
What
did you say?” Fireheart turned to see Longtail loping across the clearing. “Did I hear you right?”

“You did.” Fireheart could see the shock in the tabby warrior's face. “Tigerstar has taken over ShadowClan.”

“And they let him?” meowed Longtail. “Are they mad?”

“Not mad at all,” Whitestorm replied, coming up to stand beside Fireheart. The elderly warrior scraped the bare earth with his paws and settled down on his haunches with a tired sigh. His thick white fur was stained with soot after the journey back through the forest. “The sickness almost destroyed the ShadowClan cats. They were desperate for a strong leader. Tigerstar must have seemed like a gift from StarClan.”

“It sounds like that's just what he was,” Fireheart agreed heavily. “Apparently StarClan sent an omen to Runningnose to tell ShadowClan that a great leader would arise.”

“But Tigerstar is a traitor!” Brackenfur protested.

“ShadowClan don't know that,” Fireheart pointed out.

By this time other cats were appearing. Brightpaw and Swiftpaw ran over from the apprentices' den; Dustpelt padded up with Darkstripe's apprentice, Fernpaw; Speckletail peered curiously out from the nursery. As they pressed around Fireheart with their questions, he had to raise his voice to make himself heard.

“Listen, all of you,” he meowed. “There's something you need to hear.”
And I have to tell Bluestar
, he added silently, bracing himself for the encounter. “Whitestorm will tell you what happened at the Gathering,” he went on, “and then I want a dawn patrol.” He hesitated, looking around at the assembled cats. All the warriors were tired; those who hadn't been to the Gathering had stayed awake to guard the camp.

Before Fireheart could decide who to send, Dustpelt spoke. “Ashpaw and I will go.”

Fireheart dipped his head gratefully. The brown warrior had never been friendly toward him, but he was a loyal cat to ThunderClan, and he seemed to accept Fireheart's authority as deputy.

“I'll go too,” Mousefur offered.

“And me,” meowed Cloudpaw.

Fireheart let out a purr of appreciation at his apprentice's words. He was pleased that his sister's son was working harder for the Clan and showing more commitment to Clan life, after the disastrous episode when he was taken away by Twolegs and had to be rescued. “Dustpelt, Mousefur, Cloudpaw, and Ashpaw, then,” he meowed. “The rest of you get some sleep. We'll need hunting patrols later on.”

“What about you?” asked Darkstripe.

Fireheart took a deep breath. “I'm going to speak to Bluestar.”

The curtain of lichen had been burned away from the entrance to Bluestar's den at the base of the Highrock. As Fireheart approached, Cinderpelt, Thunderclan's medicine cat, emerged into the clearing and paused to stretch. Her dark gray fur was ruffled, and she looked worn out from the strain of caring for the Clan in the aftermath of the fire, but the strength of her spirit still shone in her blue eyes. Fireheart was reminded of the time when she had been his eager apprentice, until she had been lured too close to the Thunderpath, in a trap which Tigerclaw had set for Bluestar. The young cat's leg had been permanently injured so she could never be a warrior, but she had always kept her commitment to serving her Clan.

Fireheart padded up to her. “How is Bluestar today?” he asked quietly.

Cinderpelt cast a worried glance back into the den. “She didn't sleep last night,” she replied. “I've given her juniper berries to calm her, but I don't know if they'll do any good.”

“I need to tell her what happened at the Gathering,” Fireheart meowed. “And she's not going to like it.”

Cinderpelt's eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

As quickly as he could, Fireheart told her.

Cinderpelt listened in shocked silence, her blue eyes wide with amazement. “What will you do?” she asked when Fireheart had finished.

“There isn't much I
can
do. Besides, it could be a good
thing for ThunderClan. Tigerstar's got what he wants now, and with any luck he's going to be far too busy working his new Clan into shape to bother about us.” Seeing that Cinderpelt looked disbelieving, he added hastily, “Who they choose for leader is ShadowClan's business. We'll have to keep a watch on our borders, but I don't believe Tigerstar will be much of a threat, for a while, at least. I'm more worried about how Bluestar is going to take it.”

“This is going to make her worse,” Cinderpaw meowed anxiously. “I only hope I can find the right herbs to help her. I wish Yellowfang were here.”

“I know.” Fireheart pressed himself comfortingly against Cinderpelt's side. “But you'll be fine. You're a great medicine cat.”

“It's not just that.” Cinderpelt's voice dropped to a painful whisper. “I
miss
her, Fireheart! I keep waiting for her to tell me I haven't the sense of a newborn kit—at least when she praised me, I knew she really meant it. I want
her,
Fireheart—her scent and the feel of her fur and the sound of her voice.”

“I know,” Fireheart murmured. He felt an emptiness inside as memories of the old cat flooded over him. He had been very close to Yellowfang, ever since he had discovered her living as a rogue in ThunderClan territory. “But she hunts with StarClan now.”

And perhaps she had found peace at last, he reflected, as he remembered the torment in Yellowfang's voice as she died thinking of her son, Brokentail—the murderous cat she had never stopped loving, even though he had grown up without
knowing she was his mother. In the end she had killed him to save her adopted Clan from his bloodthirsty scheming. Yellowfang's pain was at an end, but Fireheart could not imagine that he would ever stop missing her.

“You go to Highstones soon, don't you?” he reminded Cinderpelt. “To meet the other medicine cats? I think you'll feel very close to Yellowfang then.”

“Maybe you're right.” Cinderpelt pushed away from him. “I can just hear Yellowfang now,” she meowed. “‘Why are you standing around moaning when there's work to be done?' You go and talk to Bluestar. I'll look in on her again a bit later on.”

“If you're sure you're okay,” mewed Fireheart.

“I'm fine.” Cinderpelt gave his ear a quick lick. “Be strong for her, Fireheart,” she urged. “She needs you more than ever.”

Fireheart watched the medicine cat as she limped rapidly away, and then turned toward Bluestar's den. Taking a deep breath, he called a greeting and entered through the gap where the lichen used to grow.

Bluestar was crouched on a pile of bedding at the back of the cave, her forepaws tucked under her chest. Her head was raised, but she was not looking at Fireheart. Instead her blue eyes were blank, fixed on something far away that only she could see. Her pelt was rough and unwashed, and she was so thin that Fireheart could see every rib. His heart twisted with pity for her and fear for the rest of his Clan. Their leader had diminished into an old, sick cat, broken by trouble and unable to defend herself, let alone her Clan.

“Bluestar?” Fireheart meowed hesitantly.

At first he thought that Bluestar had not heard him. Then, as he padded farther into the den, she turned her head. Her cloudy blue gaze focused on him, and for a heartbeat she looked puzzled, as if she couldn't remember who he was.

Then her ears pricked and intelligence flooded back into her eyes. “Fireheart? What do you want?”

Fireheart dipped his head respectfully. “I'm just back from the Gathering, Bluestar. I'm afraid there's bad news.” He paused.

“Well?” Bluestar sounded irritable. “What is it?”

“ShadowClan has a new leader,” Fireheart meowed. He plunged straight on. “It's Tigerclaw—Tiger
star
now.”

In an instant, Bluestar leaped to her paws. Her eyes blazed cold fire, and Fireheart flinched at the reminder of the formidable cat she had once been. “That's impossible!” she hissed.

“No, it's true. I saw him myself. He spoke from the Great Rock, with the other leaders.”

For a few moments Bluestar did not reply. She paced from one side of the den to the other and back again, her tail lashing. Fireheart backed toward the entrance, not at all sure that Bluestar wouldn't attack him for bringing this terrible news.

“How dare ShadowClan do this?” she spat at last. “How dare they shelter the cat who tried to murder me—and make him their leader!”

“Bluestar, they don't know—” Fireheart began, but the ThunderClan leader was not listening to him.

“And the other leaders?” she demanded. “What did they think? How could they let this happen?”

“No cat knows what Tigerstar did to ThunderClan.” Fireheart struggled to make Bluestar think logically. “Crookedstar didn't say much, although Tallstar was unhappy at first that Tigerstar had taken Brokentail's old followers back into the Clan.”

“Tallstar!” Bluestar spat. “We should know by now that we can't trust him. After all, it didn't take him long to forget what we did for his Clan, after you and Graystripe risked your lives to find them and bring them home.”

Fireheart started to protest, but Bluestar ignored him. “StarClan have abandoned me!” she went on, still pacing furiously. “They told me that fire would save the Clan, but fire has almost destroyed us. How can I ever trust StarClan again—especially now? They have granted a leader's nine lives to that traitor. They care nothing for me or for ThunderClan!”

Fireheart flinched. “Bluestar, listen—”

“No, Fireheart, you listen.” Bluestar padded over to him. Her fur was fluffed up and her teeth bared in anger. “ThunderClan is doomed. Tigerstar will lead ShadowClan to destroy us all—and we can expect no help from StarClan.”

“Tigerstar didn't seem hostile.” Fireheart was desperately trying to get through to his leader. “When he spoke, all he seemed to care about was leading his new Clan.”

Bluestar let out a crack of harsh laughter. “If you believe that, Fireheart, you're a fool. Tigerstar will be here before leaf-fall; you mark my words. But he'll find us waiting for him. If we're all going to die, we'll take a few of ShadowClan with us.”

She began pacing rapidly back and forth again, while
Fireheart watched, appalled.

“Double the patrols,” she ordered. “Set a watch on the camp. Send cats to guard the border with ShadowClan.”

“We haven't enough warriors for all that,” Fireheart objected. “Every cat is exhausted with the extra work rebuilding the camp. It's all we can do to keep up the regular patrols.”

“Are you questioning my orders?” Bluestar whipped around to face him again, drawing her lips back in a snarl. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Or are you going to betray me too?”

“No, Bluestar, no! You can trust me.” Fireheart tensed his muscles, half expecting that he would need to dodge Bluestar's slashing claws.

Suddenly the old leader relaxed. “I know, Fireheart. You've always been loyal, not like those others.” As if the strength of her fury had exhausted her, she limped back to her bedding.

“Set the patrols,” she ordered, sinking down in the soft moss and heather. “Do it now, before ShadowClan makes crowfood of us all.”

“Yes, Bluestar.” Fireheart saw no point in arguing any more. He bowed his head and backed out of the den. Bluestar's gaze was once more fixed on something unseen. Fireheart wondered if she was looking into the future, and watching the destruction of her Clan.