Firestar's Quest (34 page)

“I think the starry cats have left me forever,” she mewed.

Firestar reached down to give the top of her head a comforting lick. “Did you dream at all?”

“Yes, I thought I was standing on a stretch of moorland. There was mist all around me. I couldn't see anything, but I could sense cats nearby, and I knew they were terribly frightened. And I knew one cat was calling out to me, but I couldn't hear what he wanted to say. He was always out of reach.”

Firestar felt his neck fur bristle. “I think you dreamed of the first SkyClan fleeing the forest,” he explained. “I've had dreams like that too. The cat who was trying to call to you might have been their leader.”

Echosong brightened momentarily, but then the hope faded from her eyes. “It wasn't a proper medicine cat dream, then.”

“All dreams can be medicine cat dreams,” Firestar told her.

“I'm not sure anymore that I'm meant to be a medicine cat.” Echosong shook her head, sighing. “Maybe it's because I was born a kittypet.”

“I was born a kittypet too.” Echosong looked at him in astonishment, and he went on. “But StarClan still chose me to save my Clan and become its leader. Besides, all cats were wild once, even the ancestors of kittypets.”

“Truly?”

“Once there were three Clans of giant cats.” Firestar remembered the legends that he had learned when he first became an apprentice in ThunderClan. “LionClan, TigerClan, and LeopardClan. They roamed the forest freely and they were never owned by Twolegs. And a little of their wildness lives on in the heart of every cat.”

“Even in kittypets?”

“In every cat,” Firestar repeated. “Echosong, don't give up. You dreamed of SkyClan's warrior ancestors before, and you'll dream of them again. Dreams can't be summoned. They're sent, and you'll just have to be patient. SkyClan's ancestors will come to you when they have something to say.”

Echosong murmured agreement, but Firestar wasn't sure he had convinced her. Giving her a last reassuring lick, he rose to his paws and went to wake Rainfur for the next watch.

 

On the next night, for all his weariness, Firestar found it hard to sleep. After shifting around in his nest for what felt like several moons, he padded out of the warriors' cave to sit on the ledge outside and watch pale dawn light growing over the gorge.

After a little while he smelled Sandstorm's sweet scent and felt her tongue rasping warmly over his ear. “I couldn't sleep either,” she murmured.

Firestar turned his head to gaze into her eyes. “If we're going to attack the rats it has to be soon,” he mewed. “But is that the right thing to do? Was I right to tell SkyClan that this is their home and they should fight for it?”

Sandstorm's whiskers twitched in surprise. “What else are they going to do? Scatter and live as rogues and kittypets again?”

“There is another alternative.” Firestar took a deep breath. “We could take them back to the forest.”

“What, after everything we've done to help them make a home here?”

“Why not? The ancestors of the forest Clans drove them out, and we
know
how wrong that was. Maybe now we're supposed to bring them back.”

Sandstorm turned her head to smooth a piece of fur sticking up on her shoulder. “I suppose it could work,” she meowed. “They would have to split up and join the other four Clans, though. Now that the Twolegplace has been built, there isn't room in the forest for a fifth Clan—that's what caused all the trouble in the first place.”

“They won't want to split up now,” Firestar warned. “Somehow we would have to find a way of dividing the territory along new boundary lines.”

Sandstorm's tail lashed. “There
isn't
a way. You saw that for yourself when Scourge tried to move in with BloodClan. SkyClan's territory was lost when the Twolegs built their Twolegplace. The forest won't support an extra Clan now.”

Firestar knew she was right, but guilt filled him up like rain filling an upturned leaf. Was he agreeing just because in his heart he didn't want to give up any of his Clan's territory? Did that make him as bad as the original Clans who had driven SkyClan into exile?

Sandstorm pressed her muzzle against his. “There's no point working yourself up,” she mewed. “SkyClan don't
want
to go back to the forest. This is where they feel at home. You know,” she added, with a flick of her tail, “you're only saying this because you're afraid of leading them to their deaths. You need to trust their warrior ancestor who told you to come here and rebuild the Clan. He won't let the rats wipe SkyClan out.”

“I suppose—” Firestar stopped talking, distracted by movement in the shadowy gorge below. Gazing down, he spotted Echosong climbing to the top of the Rockpile and making her way across to the other side of the river.

“Where is she going?” he wondered out loud.

He set off after her, but by the time he reached the bottom of the gorge, Echosong had disappeared. He tracked her by her scent across the Rockpile as far as the path that led
beneath the rocks to the Whispering Cave. Quietly he slipped in after her, along the narrow ledge with the water gliding along just below his paws. Dawn light gleamed on the surface, fading behind him as he went further underground.

He found Echosong sitting by the water's edge in the Whispering Cave, her paws tucked under her and her gaze fixed on the river as it silently slid by, green-black in the eerie half-light. At the sound of his approach she looked up. The pale light of the moss glimmered on her pelt and was reflected in her beautiful eyes.

“Echosong…,” Firestar began.

“Tinykit just told me about hearing the voices,” she explained. Her eyes sparkled. “And it's true, Firestar! I can hear them, too quiet to make out what they're speaking, but they are all around me, welcoming me. Our warrior ancestors are here, just out of reach. When they are ready, they will come to me.”

“Rats! Rats!”

Firestar struggled awake as the terrified yowl split the silence of the night. Darkness filled the warriors' den, and for a few heartbeats he couldn't work out where the entrance was. Guided by the movement of air against his whiskers, he headed outside, only to blunder over another warrior.

“Fox dung!” the other cat spat; Firestar identified Sharpclaw's scent. “Get out of the way.”

He scrambled past Firestar and out of the cave. Firestar followed; in the entrance he brushed against another cat's pelt, and Sandstorm's scent wreathed around him. The yowling was drawing closer, and now Firestar could recognize Cherrypaw's voice.

It was the night after he had discovered Echosong in the Whispering Cave. Rain had fallen all night, and clouds still covered the sky, blotting out the stars and the thin sliver of moon. Firestar's paws slipped on the wet rock, and he saw himself plummeting into the gorge below. For a heartbeat his paws froze to the ledge; then as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness he could just make out the trail leading upward,
and a cat pelting toward him.

“It's the rats!” Cherrypaw gasped. “So many rats! They came over the cliff top….”

Firestar looked up. Where the trail met the edge of the gorge, a dark mass was flowing down toward him like water. He couldn't make out individual creatures, but a strong reek rolled ahead of them, and he knew Cherrypaw was right. The rats were attacking at last.

His belly clenched, but his voice was surprisingly steady when he spoke. “Sandstorm, go and make sure that the queens in the nursery know what's happening. Then warn Echosong and Patchfoot. Stay down there and help them.”

“I'm on my way.” He felt Sandstorm's tail tip brush his ear; then she was gone.

“Cherrypaw.” Firestar rested his tail on the panting tortoiseshell's shoulder. “Sparrowpaw will be in your cave. Go and warn him. Then fight where you can do most good.”

“Right.” The apprentice squeezed past him and vanished down the trail.

“Sharpclaw, are you still there?”

A snarl came out of the darkness just ahead. “I'm over here. What are we waiting for?”

By now the other warriors were emerging from the cave. Firestar picked up Rainfur's scent and Leafdapple's, and a strong reek of fear from Shortwhisker.

“Let's go,” he meowed. “Stay in the open if you can. Don't let them trap you in any caves—your advantage lies in being able to run and jump away from them.”

He raced up the trail toward the oncoming mass of rats. Sharpclaw bounded beside him, and the others were hard on his paws. Firestar just had time to think,
This is what they were waiting for—a night with no moon!
Then the rats were on him.

Tiny claws gripped his pelt and sank into his shoulders as the sleek brown bodies surged around him. Their hot stink filled his throat, choking his breath. He felt teeth stab into the side of his neck and swatted at the rat with one forepaw. It vanished with a thin shriek. Two more instantly took its place, and Firestar struggled to stay on his paws. If he fell, more rats would be on him and he would have no chance.

Firestar heard a drawn-out caterwaul from the bottom of the gorge, but he couldn't tell which cat it was.
Please, not the nursery!
He could make out the glittering eyes of his enemies now, and their sharp white teeth. Peering among them, he looked for the rat leader, but he couldn't spot him. Either he was hidden by the darkness, or he had stayed behind.

Firestar caught a glimpse of Sharpclaw tossing rats off the boulders to fall into the gorge with shrill wails of fear. Nearby Leafdapple was rolling on the ground with two rats clinging to her pelt. Firestar tried to push his way through the bodies to help her, but just then she bit down hard on the throat of one, and it went limp. The other rat let out a screech of fear and leaped away.

Firestar staggered as another rat jumped onto his back; he scraped himself along a boulder in an effort to throw it off, but it still clung there. Its teeth sank into his shoulder and he felt blood begin to flow. He twisted, vainly trying to grab it
with teeth or claws. One hind paw slipped; there was nothing underneath it, and Firestar tottered on the edge of the trail, unbalanced by the weight of the rat on his shoulders.

Then the rat let out a scream, abruptly cut off. Its teeth lost their grip and its weight vanished. Cat claws fastened in Firestar's shoulder fur and hauled him away from the terrifying drop.

“You okay?” Rainfur's voice meowed in his ear.

“Fine, thanks,” Firestar panted.

And still the rats came, more and more of them, pouring over the cliff and down the rocks. No matter how many the SkyClan warriors killed, there were still more. Firestar realized that they were being pushed back, past the opening of the warriors' cave, down toward the nursery.

Then another outbreak of screeching and caterwauling broke out far below. Firestar stiffened with his teeth in a rat's throat, and stood peering down for a couple of heartbeats. He couldn't see anything, but terror flowed through his limbs. There must be rats down by the river! A second group must have come along the gorge to attack the SkyClan camp from below.

Tossing his dead enemy aside, Firestar struggled through the writhing swarm of rats. Fear for the apprentices, for Echosong, for the kits, almost overwhelmed him. His claws slashed out and the rats in his path whimpered and fled.

Suddenly the fighting stopped. The rats turned as one, scrambling up the rocks toward the cliff top. Sharpclaw sprang after them with a screech of triumph.

“No!” Firestar yowled. “Wait!”

Sharpclaw turned and looked down at him in furious disbelief. “They're running away! We should go after them.”

“No,” Firestar repeated. “It could be a trap.”

“But we could finish them off once and for all!”

Firestar scrambled up to block Sharpclaw, while the skittering of rats' paws on the rocks faded away. “They could be waiting on the cliff top to ambush us,” he insisted. “
Think,
Sharpclaw! Why should they go on fighting to the death? All they need to do is frighten us off. Maybe they think they've already done that.”

“Never!” Sharpclaw let out a snarl, but he stayed where he was, glaring into the darkness where the last of the rats had vanished. The noise of fighting in the gorge had died away, too.

Firestar glanced around. As well as Sharpclaw, he could make out the pale blur of Leafdapple's pelt, and the darker bulk of Rainfur. There was no sign of Shortwhisker, and Firestar's belly clenched at the thought of the tabby tom's body broken in the gorge, or lying somewhere among the rocks, bleeding out his life.

“Let's go down,” he meowed. “We'll check the nursery first, then Echosong's cave.”

The other cats bunched together behind him as he limped down the trail. When he rounded a curve in the rock a furious hiss came out of the darkness. Clovertail was crouched in the narrow entrance between the boulder and the cliff face. Firestar scarcely recognized the cat who had joined the Clan
for protection and easy shelter. Her eyes were narrowed with rage and her teeth bared in a snarl.

A heartbeat later she relaxed. “Oh, it's you, Firestar. I thought you were more of those rats.”

“The kits?” Firestar asked anxiously.

“The kits are fine.” It was Petal who replied, appearing out of the darkness inside the nursery. Rainfur pushed forward to meet her and the two cats touched noses. “Clovertail blocked the entrance and wouldn't let any of them in,” Petal added.

Firestar rested his tail on Clovertail's shoulder. “Well done.”

The she-cat rose painfully to her paws, revealing the marks of rat bites on her chest and shoulders.

“You should go see Echosong,” Petalnose told her. “I can look after the kits.”

Clovertail muttered something in agreement; she was obviously exhausted, and staggered as she joined Firestar and the others on their way down the trail. Firestar let her lean on his shoulder until they reached the medicine cat's den.

To his relief, Sandstorm was with Echosong in the outer cave; Echosong was already pulling out her store of herbs. “We'll need a lot of burdock root,” she mewed. “It's a good thing Petal and I found a good supply the other day.”

“And cobwebs,” Sandstorm added. Her gaze traveled over the cats who had just arrived, and locked for a heartbeat with Firestar's eyes before she asked, “Which of you is hurt worst?”

Firestar pushed Clovertail forward. “Where's Patchfoot?”

“He went out to fight,” Sandstorm replied. “We realized
there were rats coming up the river only when a couple of them tried to get in here. Patchfoot and I attacked them, but there were swarms of them outside. We got separated in the darkness and I haven't seen him since.”

Firestar tried not to let the alarm show in his eyes. Patchfoot would have been in more danger than the other warriors because he didn't have his full strength yet. And what about the two apprentices?

Bracing himself against his bone-numbing weariness, he headed out of the cave to look for them. But when he reached the entrance, he spotted movement among the rocks, and a moment later all three cats appeared, Patchfoot and Sparrowpaw supporting Cherrypaw between them. Blood was flowing from a wound in her neck.

“What happened?” Firestar asked.

“The rats trapped us in our den,” Sparrowpaw explained. “We didn't have room to use our fighting moves properly. I think we'd have been in real trouble if Patchfoot hadn't come to help.”

“We killed lots of them, though,” Cherrypaw rasped, raising her head.

Her Clanmates helped her into Echosong's cave, where she flopped to the ground and closed her eyes. Sandstorm hurried over and started to lick the wound clean. After a moment, glancing up at Firestar, she meowed, “I don't think it's too bad. She'll live.”

“Course I'll live,” Cherrypaw muttered without opening her eyes. “I'm going to kill more rats.”

“That leaves only Shortwhisker unaccounted for,” Firestar mewed. “Did any cat see him?”

“Not after the battle started,” Sharpclaw replied.

“I'll go and look, if you like,” Leafdapple offered. “Though it might be better to wait until dawn. It can't be far off.”

“I think you're right,” Firestar began, reluctant to let any cat go wandering about in the darkness. They couldn't be sure that the danger from the rats was over. “We'll both go when—”

He was interrupted by a plaintive cry from outside. “Hi! Is any cat there?”

“Shortwhisker!” Sandstorm exclaimed.

Full of relief, Firestar went to the cave entrance again. The first pale trace of dawn had begun to appear in the sky. By its light, he could see Shortwhisker hauling himself up from the river, looking as if he was almost too exhausted to put one paw in front of the other.

“Over here!” Firestar called.

Shortwhisker raised his head and quickened his pace a little. Firestar studied him as he drew closer. He had clumps of fur torn off both shoulders, and the marks of rats' claws stretched along one flank, but apart from that he seemed okay.

“It's good to see you.” Firestar touched noses with him as he reached the cave. “That's every cat. And none of us is seriously hurt, thank StarClan.”

“I thought I was crow-food for sure.” Shortwhisker's eyes were wide with fear. “Three of them drove me into a tiny
cave. All I could do was try to keep them off. Then suddenly they turned and vanished.”

Firestar nodded. Trapping the cats in confined spaces where they couldn't defend themselves had obviously been part of the rats' strategy. Even if the rats' leader hadn't joined in the attack himself, his clever, controlling mind was behind it.

Gesturing with his tail for Shortwhisker to enter the cave ahead of him, Firestar gazed around at the Clan. Echosong had finished with Clovertail and was examining Patchfoot's old wound, while Sandstorm tended to Cherrypaw. The rest of the cats were lying close together, licking one another's scratches. All of them looked exhausted.

Sparrowpaw raised his head. “We didn't win, did we? The rats
chose
to stop fighting.”

“That's true,” Firestar replied. “But we didn't lose either. And the battle's not over yet. We're not waiting for them any longer. We must take the fight to them.”

Sharpclaw pricked his ears. “Is that wise?”

Firestar realized that the fight had taught Sharpclaw caution. “We don't want the rats to have the advantage of planning the next attack. There won't be so many places to trap cats outside the barn. The time is right.”

A murmur of agreement came from the rest of the Clan.

“I'm coming with you,” Patchfoot announced. “I fought tonight. No cat can say I'm not fit enough.”

“And me.” Clovertail lashed her tail. “Petal can look after the kits.”

Firestar felt humbled by their courage: Patchfoot, whose
wound would have given him the excuse to stay behind in safety; Clovertail, who was ready to fight not only for her kits but for her Clan; Shortwhisker, who was terrified but determined to overcome his fear. All of them had given up their old lives to make the dream of SkyClan a reality—and they had succeeded. The warrior code lived on in the gorge.

Sharpclaw rose to his paws. “Then we'll go tomorrow night, once the Twolegs are back in their nests,” he meowed. “And let's hope there's a moon. I like an enemy I can see.”

The Clan yowled in approval of his words.
Sharpclaw would make a good leader
, Firestar thought. He met the ginger tom's gaze; there was a challenge there, almost as if the same thought was going through Sharpclaw's mind too.

But something held Firestar back from offering him the leadership. He still felt it wasn't his choice to make. And while Sharpclaw would be superb at leading his warriors into battle, Firestar wasn't sure he appreciated everything that being Clan leader meant.