Firestar's Quest (27 page)

“Now remember, you have to stay up all night tonight,” Clovertail told her kits, keeping the inquisitive little creatures back with her tail. “You mustn't go to sleep, whatever happens.”

“No, that's all right,” Firestar meowed, surprised that the former loner had heard about the custom of keeping vigil.
“Kits don't need to stay awake.”

Clovertail stared at him, her eyes wide with alarm and her neck fur bristling. “Do you want my kits to die?” she screeched.

“What?” Firestar was baffled. “Your kits aren't in any danger.”

Shortwhisker shivered. “No, Clovertail's right. You have to stay awake the night a cat dies; otherwise you die too. My mother told me that.”

“It's true,” Sharpclaw meowed. “Remember Foxy? He went to sleep the night his brother died, and a couple of days later a monster got him.”

“Yes, I remember that,” Leafdapple put in.

“But it's not true.” Firestar spoke firmly, seeing that the former kittypets were giving one another anxious glances. He'd talk to the rogues later about this intriguing superstition that must have sprung from Clan traditions, even though the Clan itself had been forgotten. “We stay awake, yes, but only to honor the fallen cat on its journey to StarClan. It doesn't have anything to do with believing that we'll die if we don't.”

“Not every cat sits vigil for the whole of the night,” Sandstorm went on. “Just those who were closest to the dead cat. But tonight I think the whole Clan should do it, because there aren't many of us.”

“We're his kin, aren't we?” Sparrowpaw asked. “Those of us with SkyClan blood.”

Firestar dipped his head. “Yes, you are. We'll all keep
watch, and in the morning we'll bury him. It's usually the elders who do that, but Sandstorm and I will do it for Skywatcher.”

“I'd like to help,” Cherrypaw mewed; the young tortoiseshell looked unusually subdued. “We never told him we were sorry for calling him names.”

“I wish we had,” Sparrowpaw added miserably.

Sandstorm touched his ear with her nose. “I think he knew. He saw you become Clan apprentices, and that's what he wanted most of all…to see his Clan being made strong again.”

As the sun went down and shadows filled the gorge, the Clan gathered for Skywatcher's vigil. Firestar and Sandstorm crouched closest to him, pushing their noses into his cold gray fur. Cherrypaw and Sparrowpaw sat a little way away, with the rest of the Clan. Clovertail hesitated, but settled down at the foot of the cliff with her kits snuggled into her fur as if they were going to sleep as usual. Shortwhisker looked most anxious, and Firestar wondered if he had deliberately sat down on a sharp-edged stone in order to keep him from dozing off.

The last daylight faded from the sky; the clouds had cleared away and the warriors of StarClan began to appear overhead. After a while Firestar realized that the Clan were becoming restless. He could hear shifting and muttering behind him. Cherrypaw let out a huge yawn and her eyes closed; she jerked awake again as Sparrowpaw prodded her in the side.

Then Firestar heard Clovertail's voice whispering in his
ear. “I'm sorry, Firestar, It's getting cold, and if you're sure it's safe to go to sleep, I'd like to take my kits back to the cave.”

“That's fine,” he murmured.

As she withdrew, he heard another cat rise and follow her up the stony trail; glancing around he saw that it was Sharpclaw. Shortwhisker and Patchfoot were mewing quietly to each other; after a few heartbeats Shortwhisker moved away, but only to sit by himself on a rock a few fox-lengths farther down the stream. Cherrypaw and Sparrowpaw, for all their good intentions, had fallen asleep. Only Leafdapple remained, her gaze fixed on the stars.

Firestar suppressed a sigh. These cats didn't understand properly what it meant to live the life of a warrior and to follow the warrior code. They would need to learn the importance of the vigil—among so many other things—before they would truly be a Clan. But at least they seemed to trust him when he said they wouldn't die if they fell asleep tonight. Perhaps it had been easier to stay awake when they were leading less orderly lives, without dawn patrols and hunting patrols and cave duties to tire them out.

Stretching stiff limbs, he gazed up at Silverpelt's frosty fire and wondered which of those glittering points of light was the spirit of Skywatcher.
Have you found your way to SkyClan's warrior ancestors?
He hoped so; if any cat deserved to walk among the stars, it was Skywatcher.

 

Moonlight shining through the cave entrance woke Firestar, and glancing around the den he realized that
Shortwhisker wasn't there. Worried, he poked his head outside and spotted the tabby tom sitting on the rock by the river, where he had gone three nights before when the Clan kept vigil for Skywatcher.

Firestar padded down to join him; as he approached Shortwhisker jumped, and a defensive look flickered in his eyes.

“Did you want me?” he began.

“No, not for anything in particular.” Firestar sprang up onto the rock beside him. “But I get the feeling you're not happy. If there's anything wrong, you can tell me.”

Shortwhisker edged to one side to make room for him. “There's nothing
wrong,
” he meowed. “Everything's fine. I'm learning stuff I never imagined before. It's just…well, there are so
many
cats. Especially when we're all sleeping together in the den. I've been used to living on my own with my housefolk.”

“I was a kittypet too, you know, and I felt the same when I joined my Clan. But you'll get used to it,” Firestar told him. “Soon you'll wonder how you ever managed to sleep without your Clanmates around you.”

“Maybe,” Shortwhisker meowed, though he didn't sound convinced.

The tabby cat stared into the river, and Firestar got the sense that he wanted to be alone. He jumped down from the rock and returned to the den, wondering what he could do to make Shortwhisker feel more comfortable with Clan life. Perhaps pride in his hunting achievements would do the trick.

A couple of days after his talk with Shortwhisker, Firestar returned from a hunting patrol with Sparrowpaw and Leafdapple to find the camp almost deserted. The warriors' cave was empty, and when the patrol padded down to the riverside, the only cats they found there were Clovertail and her kits.

“Come back, Bouncekit!” Clovertail called, wrapping her tail around the adventurous ginger kit and pulling him back from the edge of the water. Glancing at Firestar, she added, “They're getting so strong and active. And if they get into trouble, you can be sure Bouncekit is at the bottom of it!”

“They're doing really well,” Firestar told her. “They'll soon be ready for mentors. And we're so short of warriors,” he went on, “that you might have to mentor one of them yourself. It's not ideal for apprentices to have their mother as a mentor, but—”

Clovertail's eyes widened in dismay. “I've no idea how to mentor an apprentice.”

“Maybe it's time you started to join the patrols,” Firestar suggested. “I'm sure you'll learn quickly.”

“Oh, I couldn't possibly!” Clovertail exclaimed. “My kits still need me. Who would keep an eye on them, if I weren't here? Rockkit, come down off there!” she added, raising her voice to the black kit who had started to scramble up the Rockpile. “You'll fall into the water!”

Looking at the three mischievous kits, Firestar supposed she had a point. “Where is every cat?” he asked. “The whole gorge seems deserted.”

“They went with Sandstorm,” Clovertail replied, pointing up the gorge with her tail. “She said she was taking them for a training session.” With a glance at her kits to make sure they weren't misbehaving, she padded over to the newly stocked fresh-kill pile and chose a mouse for herself.

Firestar left her with Sparrowpaw and Leafdapple, and padded up the gorge. A few tail-lengths farther on, the cliff curved inward to leave a wide, flat space with a sandy floor. Firestar reached it in time to see Cherrypaw pounce on Sandstorm; the two she-cats rolled over and over in a fierce tangle of paws and tails. Sharpclaw, Shortwhisker, and Patchfoot were looking on.

At last Sandstorm broke free and stood up, shaking sand from her pelt. “Well done,” she meowed. “You've got that leap and claw action just right. If I were a fox, I wouldn't fancy meeting you.”

Cherrypaw's eyes glowed.

“Shortwhisker, you have a go,” Sandstorm went on. “Pretend I'm a fox that's trying to get into the Clan nursery.”

Shortwhisker hesitated, glancing around at the other cats, while Sandstorm crouched, her tail tip flicking impatiently. “Come on,” she urged. “I've had time to eat a couple of kits by now.”

Shortwhisker hurled himself across the sandy space, his claws extended, but he had misjudged his leap. He fell short, just in front of Sandstorm, who cuffed him over the ears with both her front paws. Shortwhisker let out a growl of frustration, his tail lashing.

“Don't worry,” Sandstorm meowed. “Try again.”

“No, I've had enough for now.” Shortwhisker backed away. “I'll practice on my own for a bit.”

For a heartbeat Sandstorm gave him a questioning stare, then nodded. “Okay. We'll have another session tomorrow.”

Shortwhisker padded around a curve in the gorge and out of sight. Firestar exchanged a glance with Sandstorm and went after him. Before he caught up with Shortwhisker, the tabby tom realized that some cat was following him, and stopped to wait.

“I'm sorry,” he meowed, not giving Firestar a chance to speak first. “I know I messed up.” He blinked miserably. “I'm
never
going to get it right. I just feel so awkward, trying to train with all those other cats watching.”

Firestar suppressed a sigh. It was the same problem that Shortwhisker had spoken about before, on the rock by the river. He was finding it hard to adjust to living among a large number of cats.

“Well, it's the same for every cat,” he began. Shortwhisker tried to interrupt, but Firestar flicked his tail for silence. “I can understand how you feel, but for StarClan's sake, why didn't you tell Sandstorm that? She's not unreasonable. She would give you a one-on-one session if you asked her.”

Shortwhisker's forepaws shuffled on the sandy ground. “I don't like to give her any trouble. She works so hard already.”

“I know, but it's no trouble, honestly. I'll tell you what,” Firestar went on. “Would you like to practice with me, now? No cat is watching us.”

Shortwhisker's eyes brightened. “Would you really?”

“Of course. What move was Sandstorm trying to teach you?”

“She showed us how to leap on top of our enemies. That way, she said, it's harder for them to get at you.”

“True.” Firestar lashed his tail. “Okay—come and get me.”

He had hardly finished speaking when Shortwhisker leaped at him, snarling. Firestar sidestepped; Shortwhisker hit the ground beside him, but managed to rake his paws down Firestar's side before he could scramble out of range.

“Good!” Firestar exclaimed.

“I missed you, though,” Shortwhisker mewed ruefully.

Firestar gritted his teeth. Was this cat determined to see the bad side of everything? “But you still got a blow in,” he pointed out. “Try again, and this time keep fighting until I tell you to stop.”

He crouched, waiting for Shortwhisker's leap. For a moment he relaxed as the tabby's gaze drifted to a butterfly fluttering past; the leap when it came took him by surprise. “Sneaky!” He grunted as Shortwhisker landed on top of him, driving the breath from his body. He heard a snarl of satisfaction as Shortwhisker gripped his shoulders with his paws and bit down into his neck fur. Rolling over onto his back, Firestar twisted his haunches, trying to land a blow on Shortwhisker's belly with his hind paws. Shortwhisker lost his grip, all four paws flailing wildly as he tried to claw Firestar again.

“Okay, that'll do,” Firestar panted.

Shortwhisker scrambled to his paws. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

Firestar's flank was stinging, but he shook his head. “That was great. You've got the makings of a really dangerous fighter.”

Shortwhisker's eyes glowed with the praise. “Really?”

“Really. There's no need for you to feel ashamed in front of other cats.”

The tabby tom shrugged. “I'll get used to it sooner or later, I guess.” He dipped his head to Firestar. “I'll just practice the moves on my own for a bit, if that's okay.”

“That's fine.”

Firestar padded back down the gorge to find that the training session was breaking up, with the other cats heading toward the camp. Sandstorm was sitting in the middle of the training space, grooming sand out of her fur.

“I had a talk with Shortwhisker,” Firestar began, telling her what had happened.

“I'll make sure he gets the chance to train on his own,” Sandstorm promised. She finished her grooming and stood up. “I'm less worried about him than about Clovertail. She hasn't been to a single training session yet.”

“She's still taking care of her kits.”

Sandstorm's whiskers twitched. “Her kits are old enough to be left for a short while. They could come and watch, for StarClan's sake!”

“Don't worry.” Firestar brushed his tail against her shoulder. “The kits will be apprenticed soon, and then Clovertail
will see that she has to join in. Remember, she hasn't been a Clan cat for long.”

Sandstorm sniffed. “When she was made a warrior, she promised to protect and defend the Clan. How does she expect to keep her promise if she never learns to fight?”

“Give her time,” Firestar urged. “She doesn't understand what the promise means yet. One day she will.”

“And the sooner the better,” Sandstorm muttered.