Firestar's Quest (35 page)

It's in the paws of his warrior ancestors,
he told himself.
And after tomorrow, who knows whether there will be a Clan left to lead?

 

The Clan rested during the morning, but they were awake by sunhigh, gathering in the training area for a last session to hone their battle skills. Firestar felt fresh energy running through his limbs as he practiced fighting moves with Rainfur: this was what he had been trained to do, even if this time he wasn't fighting for his own Clan. Looking at the determined faces around him, watching the expert use of
teeth and claws, he knew that SkyClan wouldn't be driven from the gorge a second time. The descendants of the first Clan had returned, and they would fight to their last breath for the right to live here.

Sandstorm was drawing the training session to an end when Echosong and Petal came padding up the gorge, their eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“We've collected a whole pile of burdock root,” Petal announced proudly.

“And poppyseed,” Echosong added. “Sandstorm, you said it's good for pain, but I didn't know where to find it before.”

“My old Twoleg has poppies in his garden,” Petal explained.

“I hope you didn't have any trouble with the Twoleg,” Firestar meowed.

Petal flicked her tail dismissively. “He came out of the nest and yowled a bit, but he couldn't catch us.”

Firestar couldn't bring himself to warn her about taking risks. There would be wounded warriors after the battle who would be glad of the relief poppyseeds would give them.

Echosong's eyes were brimming with amusement. “Clovertail sent her kits to look for cobwebs,” she reported. “You've never seen so many—all over the kits! They worked really hard.”

“It's time they were apprenticed,” mewed Sandstorm.

“Soon,” Firestar agreed. His heart was warmed by the thought of a future for the Clan. SkyClan had so much to lose—but so much to win as well!

Petal padded over to Rainfur and murmured something into his ear. The gray rogue nodded; then both cats approached Firestar.

“We talked things over this morning,” Rainfur began, looking unusually hesitant. “We've decided that we want to become members of SkyClan—if you will have us, that is.”

“That's great news!” Firestar exclaimed.

Rainfur met his gaze, his eyes wide and serious. “We've seen for ourselves how the warrior code works.”

“Yes,” Petal agreed. “And there's no other life we want for ourselves and our kits.”

Sharpclaw stepped forward to stand beside Firestar. “You're welcome to join us,” he meowed, and the rest of the Clan murmured agreement. “You know how much we need strong warriors. We receive you humbly and we give you our thanks.”

 

As the sun went down, Firestar called Rainfur and Petal to the foot of the Rockpile for their warrior ceremony. The rest of the Clan stood in a circle, their eyes bright and their fur already fluffed up in anticipation of the battle.

“I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan and mentor to SkyClan, call upon their warrior ancestors to look down upon these cats,” he began. “They have dedicated themselves to your warrior code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn.” Padding up to Rainfur, he went on. “Rainfur, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Rainfur held his head high; there was no doubt in his voice as he meowed, “I do.”

“Then by the powers of StarClan I confirm your warrior name. Rainfur, StarClan trusts you will serve your new Clan with honor and courage.”

He rested his muzzle on Rainfur's head, and the gray warrior licked his shoulder.

“Petal,” Firestar went on, turning to the pale gray she-cat, “do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do.” Petal sounded just as certain as her mate.

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Petal, from this moment you will be known as Petalnose. StarClan honors your endurance and your strength, and SkyClan welcomes you.”

As he completed the ceremony, the cats of SkyClan called out the names of the new warriors, yowling them like a challenge to the darkening sky. Firestar glowed with pride for all the SkyClan cats; thanks to them, the Clan had gained two strong warriors and two healthy kits. He could see a great future in the Clan for Petalnose and Rainfur.

The yowling died away as the sun sank behind the cliffs and night covered the gorge. The waxing moon gave a fitful light as it appeared from behind the clouds that scudded across the sky. There was a stiff breeze with a hint of frost.

Firestar sent his warriors up to the top of the cliff while he paid a final visit to the nursery. Echosong and Petalnose had returned there with the five kits, who crouched in their nests
among the moss and bracken, gazing at Firestar with a mixture of fear and excitement.

“You'll be as safe here as anywhere,” Firestar told them. “The entrance is narrow.”

Petalnose nodded. “We'll be fine. Don't worry about us, Firestar. And we'll look after the kits, or die trying.”

“If the worst happens,” Firestar promised, “every warrior who survives will come back here and help you defend them.”

“The worst won't happen.” Echosong's voice was clear and certain as she padded up to Firestar. “Go now—I'll see you when you come back.”

Firestar thought of the brutal battle that lay ahead. Though he still had six lives, they could all be torn from him at once if his wounds were severe enough. He remembered how Tigerstar had died, ripped open by Scourge, and he shivered.

Though he said nothing, he knew that Echosong had guessed where his thoughts were leading. “I
will
see you again,” she mewed, and her words had the conviction of a prophecy.

Firestar hauled himself over the edge
of the cliff and into the undergrowth. For a heartbeat, until his eyes grew used to the thick darkness under the bushes, he couldn't see any cat, though SkyClan scent was all around him.

Cherrypaw hissed into his ear. “This way.”

Following her, he came to the edge of the undergrowth and found the SkyClan warriors crouching under the outermost branches of the thicket, gazing across the scrubland toward the Twoleg barn. He remembered his fears back in the forest, before the battle with BloodClan. He had struggled then with the thought of leading his Clan into a battle from which some of them might not return. His deputy, Whitestorm, had told him that he didn't envy him his position. Bluestar had assured him in a dream that he had the strength he needed. In the end he had understood that making such decisions was part of the burden of being a leader.

Now he looked at the SkyClan warriors, at the eagerness in their eyes as they gazed toward their enemies' nest, and he shrank from the order that he had to give. This battle had been started—and lost—long ago. Firestar was not their
leader. What right had he to ask them to fight now? There were so few of them, and they had been given so little time to learn the skills of a warrior.

He was aware of Leafdapple rising to her paws and padding along the line of bushes until she stood in front of him. “You fear for us,” she meowed.

Firestar nodded, words stuck in his throat like a tough piece of fresh-kill.

“We fear for ourselves,” Leafdapple went on quietly. “But this is our battle, not yours. We owe it to the SkyClan cats who walked here before to try once more to defeat these rats. You do not have to come. Should ThunderClan risk losing their leader for another Clan's sake?”

Firestar gazed at her with a mixture of admiration and disbelief. Where had her courage come from, and her commitment to the warrior code? But what impressed him most was that she realized his first loyalty lay not with this Clan, but with the Clanmates he had left behind in the forest.

He dipped his head to her. “I have brought you this far,” he murmured. “I will see you to the end of your journey.” Touching noses with Leafdapple, he sprang to his paws. “It's time.”

 

Firestar flattened himself to the ground behind a straggling gorse bush a few tail-lengths from the fence that surrounded the Twoleg barn. Everything was quiet. The barn looked deserted, the moon's pale light reflecting from its shiny surface, the holes in its sides gaping like jaws. The only
sign that it was inhabited was the sharp stink of rat and crow-food.

“I wish I knew where the rats had their nest,” Firestar muttered.

“Inside, I'd guess,” Sharpclaw slid up to him and mewed into his ear. “They're always well hidden during the day. Our patrols have never spotted them.”

Firestar dug his claws into the ground. “I'd hoped we wouldn't have to fight inside there.”

“It's not like a cave,” Sparrowpaw pointed out. “It's
huge
. There's plenty of room to get away.”

Firestar knew he was right, but the thought of trying to fight with walls around him and a roof blocking out the sky made him feel trapped and helpless. The former kittypets might see it differently, he supposed. They were used to being inside. But his own kittypet days were so far behind him, it was hard to imagine feeling like that.

“I'll lead half the patrol inside,” Sharpclaw offered. “The rest of you can stay out here, and with any luck we'll be able to lure the rats outside and fight in the open.”

Firestar nodded. “Good idea. I'll come in with you.” He knew he couldn't allow the ginger tom to go somewhere he dared not go himself.

“We want to come too,” Cherrypaw whispered.

“Okay. And Shortwhisker,” Firestar added. “The rest of you stay outside. Sandstorm, you're in charge.”

His mate gave him a brief nod. Keeping low, his belly fur brushing the grass, Firestar led the way up to the fence and
crept along it until he found the gap they had used to enter on their previous visit. He slid through with the rest of the patrol close behind.

Firestar's pelt crawled as he surveyed the barn from close up. It loomed over his head, a shiny, unnatural Twoleg thing, with death at its heart. Were the rats aware that their enemies were only pawsteps away? He couldn't feel the malevolent force that had been his first inkling of the rats' presence, but he found it hard to believe that no eyes, glittering and malignant, were watching them now.

“What are we waiting for?” Sharpclaw hissed.

Firestar glanced back to check that Sandstorm and her patrol—Leafdapple, Patchfoot, Clovertail, and Rainfur—were all inside the fence. He gathered his own patrol with a wave of his tail, and crept up to the nearest gap in the barn wall. Leaping through it, he padded forward a pace or two to allow the others to follow, and looked around.

The stench of rat and crow-food was much stronger here. His claws scraped on the hard floor, made of the same white stone that surrounded the barn on the outside, and the sound echoed eerily in the vast space. Firestar remembered Barley and Ravenpaw's barn, made cozy with piles of hay and filled with the rustling and squeaking of mice. The bare, cold emptiness of this barn sent shudders through his fur.

On either side the barn lay in shadow, but moonlight filtering through ragged holes in the roof showed him a huge pile of Twoleg rubbish against the wall at the far end of the barn.

“The rats' nest is probably in there,” Firestar whispered to Sharpclaw.

Sharpclaw nodded. “Let's hope the stink of it will hide our scent.”

Firestar beckoned the rest of the patrol with his tail. Cherrypaw and Sparrowpaw were glancing around with more curiosity than fear. Shortwhisker looked terrified, his fur fluffed out until he was twice his size, but he padded up determinedly at Firestar's summons.

“We're going to head for the nest,” Firestar told them. “When the rats appear, race for the gaps and get outside. With any luck, the rats will follow you.”

The patrol spread out into a ragged line across the barn and started to pad up to the pile of rubbish. Firestar felt horribly exposed, his heart pounding so rapidly he could hardly get his breath. Nothing moved among the rotting mounds of Twoleg stuff.

They were less than a fox-length from the pile when Firestar heard a scratching noise behind him, followed by a gasp of terror from Shortwhisker. For a heartbeat he froze, then whipped around to confront rows and rows of rats. More rats than he had ever seen before had crept out of the shadows, covering the floor between the patrol and the gap where they had entered.

Firestar's gaze darted over them, trying to pick out the leader, but all the sleek, dark brown bodies looked the same to him. Then a voice spoke, but the sound echoed around the bare walls of the barn so that he couldn't tell which rat was talking.

“We killed you before. We will kill you again. You are few. We are more.”

Sharpclaw let out a snarl of rage and leaped at the first row of rats.

“Stop!” Firestar yowled.

The ginger tom halted, glaring at him. “What now?”

“We must stick together,” Firestar explained, drawing the rest of the patrol into a huddle around him with a gesture of his tail. “If they separate us, we're finished. We have to get outside, where we won't be trapped.”

He had hardly finished speaking when the first wave of rats crashed over them. Facing outward, lashing out with claws and teeth, the patrol began to force a way through them, back toward the gap where they had entered. There was a second gap, but it was on the far side of the barn, and even more rats blocked their way to it. Firestar reminded himself that he had six lives to lose, while the cats around him had only one; he would have to fight harder to match their courage.

Rats swarmed around them, climbing on top of one another in their eagerness to sink in claws and teeth. But there were too many of them; they hadn't the space to fight effectively. Firestar took a bite on one foreleg and a few nasty scratches around his head, but with the patrol tightly clustered together the rats couldn't attack from behind, couldn't attack at all without coming within reach of the warriors' furious defense.

The gap was only a couple of tail-lengths away; Firestar began to hope that they would make it out into the open.

Then he heard a fearsome screech from outside. Rainfur leaped through the gap, with the rest of the patrol streaming behind him, and fell on the rats from behind.

Firestar let out a yowl of frustration. “No! Get back!”

The outside patrol obviously thought they had to come to the rescue; instead, they were putting every cat in worse danger. Screeching knots of cats and rats writhed on the floor in front of the gap, making it harder to get out. The outside patrol was already separated, each one fighting alone against a swarm of rats.

Before Firestar could yowl an order, his own patrol sprang apart, leaping to help their Clanmates. The whole barn exploded in blood and rage. The warriors' furious screeches mingled with the dying screams of the rats, yet where one fell, two more took its place. Firestar spotted Clovertail batting rats away with both forepaws; Sharpclaw and Cherrypaw fought side by side, forcing their way through wave after wave of attacking rats.

“Out! Every cat get out!” Firestar screeched.

Sandstorm leaped across a cluster of snarling rats and landed at his side. “Sorry!” She gasped. “I couldn't stop them from coming in.” She bared her teeth at a rat as it scuttled toward her; it flinched and spun around, right into Firestar's outstretched paws. Fierce satisfaction surged through Firestar as he clawed its life out; whatever the end might be, it was good to fight side by side with Sandstorm again.

Gradually the SkyClan cats won their way back to the gap. Leafdapple shoved Sparrowpaw out and followed him.
Patchfoot slipped out after her, then Shortwhisker. Clovertail shook off one rat with its fangs in her shoulder, struck another across the side of the head with one paw, and sprang out into the open. For the first time, Firestar let himself hope that they would all get out.

He spotted Sharpclaw and Cherrypaw side by side a couple of fox-lengths away, in the midst of a ring of dead or dying rats. “Out!” he yowled, waving his tail at the gap.

Sharpclaw snapped something at Cherrypaw; she opened her jaws to argue, and while she was distracted a rat leaped onto her back. She staggered, her claws skidding on the blood-soaked floor, then collapsed on one side. Sharpclaw leaped for her, tearing the rat off her back and shaking it fiercely before tossing it aside. Hauling his stunned apprentice to her paws, he clawed a way through the horde of rats, driving them back like leaves in the wind. With relief, Firestar saw mentor and apprentice disappear through the gap.

For a heartbeat he thought that only he and Sandstorm were left in the barn. Then he spotted Rainfur still two or three fox-lengths from the gap, in a circle of rats that was gradually closing on him. Rainfur glanced back to see where the gap was, and at that moment a huge rat leaped at him and fastened its fangs in his throat. The SkyClan warrior vanished under a heap of squirming bodies.

“Get out!” Firestar ordered Sandstorm. “I'll help Rainfur.”

“I'm not leaving without you,” Sandstorm replied.

There was no time to argue. Firestar sprang forward, leaping over one rat and knocking a second out of his path, to
fling himself on the creatures that were attacking Rainfur. The gray warrior was barely visible under the mass of rats. They split apart at the sound of Firestar's furious yowl, and Rainfur scrambled to his feet, only to be pulled down again.

Firestar landed among them, clawing and spitting. He bit down on the neck of one rat, and it slumped to the floor. Another fell back, writhing and squealing, its blood spurting as he raked his claws across its eyes and muzzle. He had almost reached Rainfur when more rats surged around him, and a weight landed on his back, carrying him off his paws.

His head struck the hard floor of the barn, stunning him. For a few heartbeats he scrabbled with his paws, trying to get up. Then sharp claws fastened themselves in his throat, and his whole body spasmed with the pain.

Evil rat eyes stared into his, glittering with malice. A voice rasped, “Die, cat!”

Firestar struggled to sink his claws into the body that was pinning him down. This must be the leader of the rats! Kill him, and the battle would be over.

But there was no strength in Firestar's limbs, and the moonlight seemed to be fading, leaving him in a cave of echoing darkness. For a couple of heartbeats longer he was aware of those eyes, twin points of hatred. Then night closed down over him, and he knew nothing more.