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Authors: Erin Hunter

BOOK: Firestar's Quest
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The full moon floated in the
sky, shedding its cold light over the forest. A faint breeze murmured through the leaves of four massive oak trees; dappled light and shadow moved over the pelts of many cats as they slipped into the hollow below.

A muscular, bracken-colored tomcat emerged from the bushes that lined the sides of the hollow. He bounded across the clearing and leaped to the top of the great rock that stood in the center.

Three other cats were waiting there. One of them, a she-cat with a brown tabby pelt, dipped her head in greeting. “Welcome, Redstar,” she meowed. “How's the prey running in ThunderClan?”

“We've plenty, thank you, Birchstar,” the ThunderClan leader replied. “Is all well in RiverClan?”

Before Birchstar could reply, one of the other leaders interrupted, scraping his claws on the harsh surface of the rock. His gray-black pelt was a shadow in the moonlight. “It's time this Gathering started,” he rasped. “We're wasting time.”

“We can't start yet, Swiftstar,” the fourth cat mewed. Her
creamy brown pelt held the frosty shimmer of starlight. “We're not all here.”

Swiftstar let out an impatient snort. “WindClan have better things to do than sit about waiting for cats who can't be bothered to come at the proper time.”

“Look!” Redstar pointed with his tail toward the top of the hollow. The shape of a cat was outlined against the pale moonlight. He stood motionless for a heartbeat, then waved his tail and vanished into the bushes. More cats followed him, pouring over the rim of the hollow, the branches rustling as they streamed down the slope.

“There!” Dawnstar mewed. “SkyClan are here at last.”

“About time, too,” Swiftstar muttered. “Cloudstar!” he called as the first cat emerged into the clearing. “What kept you?”

The SkyClan leader was small for a tomcat, with a lithe body and a neat, well-shaped head. His fur was pale gray, with white patches like clouds. He didn't reply to Swiftstar's question, but thrust his way through the cats until he reached the rock and sprang up to join the other leaders.

Behind him, more and more cats were emerging from the bushes. A group of young apprentices ventured out, bunched together, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. They were followed by the Clan's elders, some of them limping, one leaning heavily on the shoulder of a warrior. Two she-cats each carried a tiny kit in her jaws; several older kits stumbled wearily beside them. The remaining warriors circled them protectively.

“Great StarClan!” Swiftstar exclaimed. “Cloudstar, any cat would think you'd brought your whole Clan to the Gathering.”

Cloudstar steadily met the WindClan leader's puzzled gaze. “Yes,” he mewed, “I have.”

“Why in the name of StarClan did you do that?” Birchstar asked.

“Because we can no longer live in our territory,” the SkyClan leader told her. “Twolegs have destroyed it.”

“What?” Redstar stepped forward. “My patrols have reported more Twolegs in your territory, and noise from monsters, but they can't possibly have destroyed it all.”

“They have.” Cloudstar stared across the clearing, as if he were seeing something else in place of the moon-washed bushes. “They came with huge monsters that pushed over our trees and churned up the earth. All our prey is dead or frightened off. The monsters are crouched around our camp now, waiting to pounce. SkyClan's home has gone.” Turning to the other leaders, he went on. “I have brought my Clan here to ask your help. You must give us some of your territories.”

Yowls of protest rose from the cats below the rock. At the edge of the clearing the SkyClan cats huddled together with the strongest warriors on the outside, as if they were braced for an attack.

Swiftstar was the first to reply. “You can't just walk in here and ask for our territory. We can barely feed our own Clans as it is.”

Redstar shifted his paws uneasily. “The prey is running
well now in greenleaf, but what's going to happen when leaf-fall comes? ThunderClan won't be able to spare any then.”

“Nor will ShadowClan,” Dawnstar meowed, rising from her place on the edge of the rock and facing Cloudstar with a challenge in her green eyes. “My Clan is bigger than any other. We need every pawstep of ground to feed our own cats.”

Cloudstar's gaze flicked to the only leader who hadn't spoken. “Birchstar? What do you think?”

“I'd like to help,” the RiverClan leader mewed. “I really would. But the river is very low and it's harder than ever to catch enough fish. Besides, SkyClan cats don't know
how
to fish.”

“Exactly,” Swiftstar added. “And only WindClan cats are fast enough to catch rabbits and birds on the moors. There's certainly nowhere in our territory where you could make a camp. You'd soon get tired of sleeping under gorse bushes.”

“Then what is my Clan supposed to do?” Cloudstar mewed quietly.

Silence spread over the clearing as if every cat were holding its breath. Redstar broke it with a single word.

“Leave.”

“That's right.” There was a hint of a snarl in Swiftstar's meow. “Leave the forest and find yourselves another place, far enough away that you can't steal our prey.”

A young black-and-silver she-cat rose to her paws in the clearing below. “Swiftstar,” she called, “as your medicine cat, I can tell you that StarClan won't be pleased if the rest of us
drive out SkyClan. There have always been five Clans in the forest.”

Swiftstar looked down at his medicine cat. “You say you know the will of StarClan, Larkwing, but can you tell me why the moon is still shining? If StarClan didn't agree that SkyClan should leave the forest, they would send clouds to cover the sky.”

Larkwing shook her head, unable to answer her leader's question.

Cloudstar's eyes stretched wide with disbelief. “Five Clans have lived in this forest for longer than any cat can remember. Doesn't that mean anything to you?”

“Things change,” Redstar replied. “Is it possible that the will of StarClan has changed also? StarClan gave each Clan the skills they need to survive in their own territory. RiverClan cats swim well. ThunderClan are good at stalking prey in the undergrowth. SkyClan cats can leap into trees because there's not much cover in their territory. Doesn't this mean that each Clan couldn't live in another Clan's territory?”

A thin tomcat with rumpled black fur rose from where he sat at the base of the Great Rock. “You keep saying that StarClan wants five Clans in the forest, but are you sure that's true? There are four oaks here at Fourtrees. That could be a sign that there should be only four Clans.”

“SkyClan don't belong here,” hissed a silver tabby beside him. “Let's drive them out now.”

The SkyClan warriors bristled as one, unsheathing long, curved claws.

“Stop!” Cloudstar called. “Warriors of SkyClan, we are not cowards, but this is a battle we cannot win. We have seen tonight what the warrior code is worth. From now on we will be alone, and we will depend on no cat but ourselves.”

He leaped down from the Great Rock and shouldered a path through his warriors until he came face-to-face with a beautiful light brown tabby. Two tiny kits were mewling pitifully at her paws.

“Cloudstar.” The she-cat's voice was a murmur of distress. “Our kits are too small to make a long journey. I'll stay here with them, if any Clan will have us.”

Kestrelwing, the ThunderClan medicine cat, pushed his way between two SkyClan warriors, ignoring their snarls, and bent his head to sniff the kits. “You will all be welcome in ThunderClan.”

“Are you sure?” Cloudstar challenged him. “After what your leader said to us today?”

“I believe my leader was wrong,” Kestrelwing meowed. “But he won't condemn helpless kits to die. They will have a future in ThunderClan, and so will you, Birdflight.”

The light brown cat dipped her head. “Thank you.” She turned to Cloudstar, sorrow brimming in her amber eyes. “Then this is good-bye.”

“Birdflight, no.” The SkyClan leader looked horrified. “How can I leave you?”

“You must.” Birdflight's voice quavered. “Our Clan needs you, but our kits need me just now.”

Cloudstar bowed his head. “I'll wait for you,” he whis
pered. “I'll wait for you forever.” He pressed his muzzle against Birdflight's side. “Stay with Kestrelwing. He'll find warriors to help carry the kits back to ThunderClan's camp.” To the ThunderClan medicine cat, he added, “Take care of them.”

Kestrelwing nodded. “Of course.”

With a last anguished look at his mate, Cloudstar signaled with his tail to the rest of his Clan. “Follow me.”

He led the way toward the slope, but before he could plunge into the bushes Redstar called from the top of the Great Rock, “May StarClan go with you!”

Cloudstar turned and fixed a cold gaze on the cat he had once called friend. “StarClan may go where they please,” he hissed. “They have
betrayed
SkyClan. From this day on, I will have nothing more to do with our warrior ancestors.” He ignored the gasps of shock around him, some from his own Clan. “StarClan allowed the Twolegs to destroy our home. They look down on us now, and let the moon go on shining while you drive us out. They said there would always be five Clans in the forest, but they
lied
. SkyClan will never look to the stars again.”

With a last flick of his tail he vanished into the bushes, and the rest of his Clan followed.

Firestar slid around the edge of
a hazel thicket and paused to taste the air. The moon was nearly full, and he could see that he was close to where the stream followed the border with ShadowClan. He could hear its faint gurgling, and picked up traces of the ShadowClan scent markers.

The flame-colored tomcat allowed himself a soft purr of satisfaction. He had been leader of ThunderClan for three seasons, and he felt as if he knew every tree, every bramble bush, every tiny path left by mice and voles throughout his territory. Since the fearsome battle when the forest Clans had joined together to drive out BloodClan and their murderous leader, Scourge, there had been peace, and the long days of newleaf and greenleaf had brought plentiful prey.

But Firestar knew that somewhere in the tranquil night an attacker was lurking. He made himself concentrate, all his senses alert. He caught the scent of mouse and rabbit, the green scent of grass and leaves, and very faintly the reek of the distant Thunderpath. But there was something else. Something he couldn't identify.

He raised his head, drawing the breeze over his scent
glands. At the same instant, a clump of bracken waved wildly, and a dark shape erupted from the middle of the curling fronds. Startled, Firestar spun to face it, but before he could raise his paws to defend himself the shape landed heavily on his shoulders, knocking him to the ground.

Summoning all his strength, Firestar rolled onto his back and brought up his hind paws to thrust his attacker away. Above him he could make out broad, muscular shoulders, a massive head with dark tabby markings, the glint of amber eyes….

Firestar gritted his teeth and battered even harder with his hind paws. A forepaw lashed out toward him and he flinched, waiting for the strike.

Suddenly the weight that pinned him down vanished as the tabby cat sprang away with a yowl of triumph. “You didn't know I was there, did you?” he meowed. “Go on, Firestar, admit it. You had no idea.”

Firestar staggered to his paws, shaking grass seeds and scraps of moss from his pelt. “Bramblepaw, you great lump! You've squashed me as flat as a leaf.”

“I know.” Bramblepaw's eyes gleamed. “If you'd really been a ShadowClan invader, you would be crow-food by now.”

“So I would.” Firestar touched his apprentice on the shoulder with the tip of his tail. “You did very well, especially disguising your scent like that.”

“I rolled in a clump of damp ferns as soon as I left camp,” Bramblepaw explained. He suddenly looked anxious. “Was my assessment okay, Firestar?”

Firestar hesitated, struggling to push away the memory of Bramblepaw's bloodthirsty father, Tigerstar. When he looked at the young apprentice, it was too easy to recall the same broad shoulders, dark tabby fur, and amber eyes that belonged to the cat who had been ready to murder and betray his own Clanmates to make himself leader.

“Firestar?” Bramblepaw prompted.

Firestar shook off the clinging cobwebs of the past. “Yes, Bramblepaw, of course. No cat could have done better.”

“Thanks, Firestar!” Bramblepaw's amber eyes shone and his tail went straight up in the air. As they turned toward the ThunderClan camp, he glanced back at the ShadowClan border. “Do you think Tawnypaw will be near the end of her apprentice training, too?”

Bramblepaw's sister, Tawnypaw, had been born in ThunderClan, but she had never felt at home there. She was too sensitive to the mistrust of cats who couldn't forget that she was Tigerstar's daughter. When her father had become leader of ShadowClan, she had left ThunderClan to be with him. Firestar always felt that he had failed her, and he knew how much Bramblepaw missed her.

“I don't know how they do these things in ShadowClan,” he meowed carefully, “but Tawnypaw started her training at the same time as you, so she should be ready for her warrior ceremony by now.”

“I hope so,” Bramblepaw mewed. “I know she'll be a great warrior.”

“You both will,” Firestar told him.

On their way back to camp, Firestar felt as if every shadowy hollow, every clump of fern or bramble thicket, could be hiding the gleam of amber eyes. Whatever Tigerstar's crimes, he had been proud of his son and daughter, and his death had been particularly dreadful, with all nine lives ripped away at once by Scourge's sharpened claws. Was the massive tabby watching them now? Not from StarClan, for Firestar had never seen him in his dreams; the ThunderClan medicine cat, Cinderpelt, had never reported meeting him when she shared tongues with StarClan, either. Could there be another place for coldhearted cats who had been ready to use the warrior code for their own dark ambitions? If there was such a shadowed path, Firestar hoped he would never have to walk it—nor his lively apprentice. Bramblepaw was bouncing through the grass beside him, excited as a kit; surely he had shaken off the legacy of his father?

As they slipped down the ravine toward the camp, Bramblepaw halted, his gaze serious. “Was my assessment
really
okay? Am I good enough—”

“To be a warrior?” Firestar guessed. “Yes, you are. We'll hold your ceremony tomorrow.”

Bramblepaw dipped his head respectfully. “Thank you, Firestar,” he mewed. “I won't let you down.” His eyes blazed; he gave a sudden bound into the air and pelted down the rest of the ravine to wait by the entrance to the gorse tunnel. Firestar watched him, amused. He could still remember when he had felt as if he had too much energy to contain in his four paws, when he felt as if he could run through the forest forever.

“You'd better get some sleep,” he warned as he joined his apprentice. “You'll have to sit vigil tomorrow night.”

“If you're sure, Firestar…” Bramblepaw hesitated, working his claws in the sandy ground. “I could find you some fresh-kill first.”

“No, go on,” his leader told him. “You're so excited right now you wouldn't notice if a fox ate you.”

Bramblepaw waved his tail and bundled through the gorse tunnel into the camp.

Firestar lingered outside the camp for a while, settling down on a flat rock with his tail curled around his paws. He could hear nothing but the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the tiny scufflings of prey in the undergrowth.

The battle with BloodClan had cast its shadow over all the Clans; for more than a season after, every cat in the forest jumped at a cracking twig, and chased out strangers as if their lives depended on it. They were even scared of going too close to Twolegplace, in case any surviving members of BloodClan happened to be lurking there. But now, five moons later, ThunderClan was thriving. Tomorrow there would be a new warrior, and the apprentices Rainpaw, Sootpaw, and Sorrelpaw were all doing well after three moons of training. In time, they would be good warriors too—they were bound to be, considering who their father was. Every day they reminded Firestar of his first deputy, Whitestorm, who had died battling the vicious BloodClan deputy, Bone. He still grieved for the old white warrior.

His mind wrapped in memories of his old friend, it was a
moment before Firestar realized he could hear a faint sound: the footfalls of a cat stepping lightly through the undergrowth. He sprang to his paws, looking around, but he saw nothing.

He hardly had time to sit down before the noise came again. This time Firestar whipped his head around in time to glimpse the pale shape of a cat standing a little farther up the ravine.

Am I dreaming? Has Whitestorm left StarClan to come and visit me?

But this cat was smaller than Whitestorm and its fur was gray, patched with white. It stared straight at him, its eyes dark and earnest, as if it were trying to tell him something. Firestar had never seen it before. Could it be a rogue? Or worse—could BloodClan have recovered from their defeat and come back to invade the forest?

He sprang to his paws and raced up the ravine toward the strange cat. But as soon as he began to move, it vanished, and when he searched among the rocks he couldn't find it. There weren't even any pawmarks, but when he tasted the air there was a faint trace of an unfamiliar scent, almost swamped by the ThunderClan scents that came from the camp.

Slowly Firestar retraced his pawsteps and sat on the rock again. All his senses were alert now as he gazed into the shadows. But he saw nothing more of the strange gray cat.

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