Firestar's Quest (5 page)

Firestar hesitated; he wasn't sure he agreed. Dreaming hadn't told him much so far. “All right,” he mewed reluctantly.
“But if StarClan are trying to tell me something, I wish they would make it clearer.”

Obeying Cinderpelt, he padded back to his den. But this time he slept without dreaming at all.

Early the next morning he went back to the medicine cat's den, taking her a squirrel from the fresh-kill pile. He found Cinderpelt still sitting beside Longtail, who was curled up asleep.

“Have you been here all night?” Firestar asked, dropping the squirrel at Cinderpelt's side.

“Where else would I be? Longtail needs me. Don't worry; I'm not tired.” She contradicted herself by stretching her jaws in an enormous yawn.

“Last night you told me to get some sleep,” Firestar pointed out. “Now, as your Clan leader, I'm telling
you
. It won't do Longtail any good if our medicine cat gets ill.”

“But I'm worried about him.” Cinderpelt lowered her voice, even though Longtail was asleep. “I think his eyes are infected. The rabbit's claws must have been dirty.”

Firestar peered at Longtail's closed eyes. He couldn't see much difference from the night before: they were still red and swollen, with sticky fluid and marigold pulp crusted around them.

“That's bad news,” he mewed. “All the same, I think you should eat that fresh-kill and then get some rest. I'll send Rainpaw to you again,” he added persuasively. “He can keep an eye on things and call you if Longtail wakes up.”

Cinderpelt rose to her paws and arched her back in a long
stretch. “Okay,” she agreed. “But will you tell Rainpaw to fetch some more marigold first? There's plenty near the top of the ravine.”

“Provided I see you eating that squirrel.”

Cinderpelt crouched down beside the squirrel, only to look up at Firestar again before she started to eat. “I'm so scared that I won't be able to save Longtail's sight,” she confessed.

Firestar gently touched his nose to her ear. “Every cat in the Clan knows you're doing your best. Longtail knows it most of all.”

“What if my best isn't good enough?”

“It will be. ThunderClan couldn't have a better medicine cat.”

Cinderpelt sighed and shook her head before beginning to gulp down the squirrel. Firestar knew that he was wasting his breath trying to reassure her. If Longtail did go blind, Cinderpelt would blame herself, just as she had done when Graystripe's mate, Silverstream, died bearing their kits.

Resting his tail briefly on the medicine cat's shoulder, he went to look for Rainpaw.

 

Firestar led the way up the slope toward Fourtrees. Rain had fallen earlier that day, and drops clung to his pelt as he brushed through the long grass. But now the clouds had vanished and the full moon floated in a clear sky, surrounded by the glitter of Silverpelt.

The warriors Firestar had chosen to attend the Gathering
followed hard on his paws. Brambleclaw was bounding along at his shoulder, his eyes gleaming as if he could hardly stop himself from taking the lead and racing up the slope.

“Calm down,” Graystripe meowed to him. “It's not like this is your first Gathering.”

“No, but I was always an apprentice before,” Brambleclaw pointed out. “Graystripe, do you think Firestar will tell all the Clans that I've been made a warrior?”

Firestar glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, of course I will.”

“But they might not believe it unless you stop behaving like an apprentice,” Graystripe warned, flicking Brambleclaw's ear with his tail.

Firestar could already hear the sound of many cats ahead, and he picked out the scents of WindClan, RiverClan, and ShadowClan on the warm breeze. He quickened his pace. His dreams were still haunted by unfamiliar voices raised in misery, and it would be good to spend time among cats he knew well. He wanted to deal with problems he had met before, instead of struggling to find out what the strange cats wanted from him.

But as he climbed the last slope to the edge of the hollow, he came to an abrupt stop. For a couple of heartbeats he was convinced that cats were rushing toward him, many cats, a whole Clanful. He blinked, and saw nothing but shadows. But the scent he had tasted in his dreams flowed around him, stronger now. Behind his eyes he had an impression of flattened ears and ruffled fur, as if the cats were fleeing from a Gathering that had broken up in disorder.

A moment later the sensation vanished, and Firestar was aware of Dustpelt bumping into him from behind.

“For StarClan's sake,” the brown tabby warrior grumbled, “do you have to stop dead like that? Any cat would think you'd forgotten the way.”

“Sorry,” Firestar mewed.

His paws still tingling, he took the last few paces that brought him to the top of the hollow. In front of him the four great oaks rustled their branches, sending shifting patterns of light and shadow over the cats in the clearing. He paused for a few heartbeats longer than usual, searching for any other traces of the strange cats. But there was nothing to tell him who they were, and no trace of the pale warrior whose reflection he had seen in the puddle. Forcing himself to concentrate on the Gathering, he raised his tail to signal to his Clan and plunged into the bushes.

When Firestar reached the clearing, Brambleclaw raced past him and stopped in front of a tortoiseshell she-cat sitting a few tail-lengths away. “Tawnypaw!” he panted. “Guess what?”

His sister stared back at him. “Tawnypaw? Who's she? I'm Tawny
pelt
now, if you don't mind.”

Brambleclaw's tail curled up in delight. “You are? That's great! So am I—I mean, I'm a warrior too. My name's Brambleclaw.”

Tawnypelt purred and twined her tail with her brother's. “Congratulations!”

Just beyond them, Graystripe was greeting his son and
daughter, Stormfur and Feathertail, whose new warrior names had been announced by Leopardstar, the RiverClan leader, at the previous Gathering. Stormfur was a muscular gray tomcat, very like his father, while Feathertail had the beautiful light gray pelt of her mother, Silverstream.

Sandstorm headed straight for Mistyfoot, the RiverClan deputy, who was sitting near the Great Rock. The two she-cats had become friends when Mistyfoot had been driven out of her own Clan by Tigerstar, and had spent some time in ThunderClan.

Seeing that the rest of his warriors were also greeting friends from other Clans, Firestar headed for the Great Rock, where Leopardstar, Blackstar, and Tallstar were waiting.

Tallstar stepped forward as Firestar sprang up to join them. “Greetings, Firestar. Now that we're all here, the Gathering can start.”

Firestar dipped his head to the other three leaders while Blackstar let out a yowl, signaling for the cats in the clearing below to be quiet. “I will begin by speaking for ShadowClan,” he announced, narrowing his eyes at the other leaders as if they might challenge his right to make his report first.

None of the other leaders tried to argue with him, though Tallstar shot a glance at Firestar, and Leopardstar irritably twitched the tip of her tail.

“The prey is running well in ShadowClan,” Blackstar began. “And we have made a new warrior, Tawnypelt.”

A chorus of yowls broke out as the cats of all four Clans
congratulated Tawnypelt and called out her name. Firestar glanced down to see the young tortoiseshell warrior sitting beside her brother, her eyes shining proudly. But he couldn't help noticing that a few of her own Clanmates—the deputy, Russetfur, for one—kept silent, giving Tawnypelt suspicious stares. Firestar bit back a sigh. Some ShadowClan cats clearly mistrusted her because she had been born in ThunderClan.

“We have seen more Twolegs in our territory,” Blackstar went on. “They stride around yowling at one another, and sometimes they let their monsters leave the Thunderpath and crash through the woods.”

“Leave the Thunderpath?” Mistyfoot called out from below. “Why? Are they chasing your cats, Blackstar?”

“No,” the ShadowClan leader replied. “I don't think they even know we're there. They'll be no trouble so long as we stay away from them.”

“They must frighten the prey, though,” Tallstar muttered to Firestar. “I wouldn't want any more of them on
my
territory; that's for sure.”

“ShadowClan cats are better than most of us at hiding,” Firestar pointed out under his breath.

Blackstar stepped back, nudging Tallstar. “Go on, it's your turn,” he meowed.

The WindClan leader dipped his head before advancing to the edge of the rock. “All is well in WindClan,” he reported. “Ashfoot has a new litter of three kits. Onewhisker and Mudclaw chased off a fox who seemed to think it would be happier living on the moors than in the woods.”

“We soon changed its mind!” Mudclaw, the WindClan deputy, yowled from where he sat at the base of the Great Rock.

“You'd better keep a lookout for it,” Tallstar continued to Leopardstar. “It crossed into your territory near the river.”

“Thank you for that, Tallstar,” the RiverClan leader replied dryly. “Another fox is just what we need. I'll warn the patrols.”

Firestar reminded himself to do the same. RiverClan territory was narrow there, and if the fox had kept going it could easily have crossed into ThunderClan.

Meanwhile, Leopardstar had stepped forward. “As usual in greenleaf, there are more Twolegs around,” she meowed. “They bring boats onto the river, and their kits play in the water and frighten the fish. This season the river is low, so there aren't quite as many Twolegs as usual. However, we have no problem feeding ourselves.”

Firestar wondered if that was completely true. If the water was low in the river then surely there wouldn't be so many fish either. But it wasn't his place to argue, and he knew that Leopardstar, like all the leaders, wouldn't want her Clan to seem weak from lack of food.

“ThunderClan has a new warrior too,” he announced when Leopardstar stepped back. “Bramblepaw had his warrior ceremony, and is now Brambleclaw.”

Another chorus of congratulations broke out, while Brambleclaw sat beside his sister and acknowledged them with an embarrassed dip of his head. While he waited for the
noise to die down, Firestar decided not to mention Longtail's accident. Before the next Gathering, Cinderpelt would probably have healed the tabby warrior's eyes, and the whole incident would be forgotten.

“Our prey is plentiful and the Twolegs aren't bothering us,” he finished.

It wasn't often that a Gathering ended so quickly, with no serious disturbances to report from outside, and no reason for quarrels among the Clans. As Blackstar brought it to a close, Firestar looked down into the hollow. It was harder and harder to remember how it had looked after the battle with BloodClan, when the grass was stained red and the bodies of forest cats and the invaders from Twolegplace lay scattered across the clearing. He had lost his first life then, seeing a pale outline of himself take its place among the warriors of StarClan.

The starry cats had given him the courage to fight on when they told him there had always been
four
Clans living in the forest, and there always would be.

Life would go on like this forever; Firestar found the thought comforting. The daily routine of patrols, the toil of finding prey and training apprentices—even disturbing events like Longtail's injury and his own unexplained dreams—seemed small and insignificant when placed beside the unending pattern of Clan life. Firestar was part of a long, long line of cats all driven by loyalty to their Clanmates and the warrior code. Even when he had lost his last life, the Great Oaks would still be here, one for each Clan, until his name had been long forgotten.

The Gathering was over. Firestar bunched
his muscles to leap down into the clearing. As he looked for a space to land, he froze, gripping the surface of the rock with his claws. The hollow suddenly seemed more crowded than usual. Sleek, starlit shapes were weaving among the forest cats, close enough for their pelts to brush. The forest cats passed them without a glance, calling out to their Clanmates as they prepared to leave. The other three leaders leaped down into the midst of the strangers like water voles leaping into a pool. Leopardstar almost landed on top of a shimmering white warrior, and bounded away without even a twitch of her whiskers.

Firestar shivered.
None of the others can see them!

His gaze was drawn to one cat among the starry shapes: the gray-and-white cat he had seen twice before. He was staring directly at Firestar, his jaws open in a silent plea, but before Firestar could respond, Mudclaw of WindClan passed in front of him and the gray-and-white cat vanished.

Firestar knew these were the same cats he had seen leaping in the river, the same cats that had appeared to him indistinctly through the mist in his dreams.
Who are they?
And what are they doing here?

“Hey, Firestar!” Graystripe called from the foot of the Great Rock. “Are you going to stay up there all night?”

Firestar gave himself a shake. He couldn't go on like this. These cats had stalked him through his dreams, and now they were haunting him in the waking world as well. He had to find out why, and if Cinderpelt couldn't help him, there might be other cats who could.

He leaped down to where Graystripe was waiting for him with Sandstorm, Brambleclaw, and the rest of the ThunderClan warriors. “Graystripe, I want you and Sandstorm to lead the Clan back to camp.”

“Why, where are you going?”

Firestar took a deep breath. “I need to go to the Moonstone. I have to share tongues with StarClan.”

Graystripe looked surprised, but Sandstorm's green gaze met Firestar's with a look of understanding.

“I knew something's been troubling you,” she mewed quietly, brushing her pelt against his. “Maybe you'll feel better after you've spoken to our warrior ancestors.”

“I hope so,” Firestar responded.

“Shall I come with you?” Graystripe offered. “The rest of the Clan don't need me to take them home, and you never know what might be lurking on the moors. What if that fox has come back?”

“No, thanks, Graystripe,” Firestar meowed. “I'll go with WindClan as far as their camp, and after that I'll be fine.”

“Okay.” Graystripe gathered the rest of the ThunderClan
warriors together with a sweep of his tail. “When you pass Barley's farm, say hi to Ravenpaw for me.”

“I'll do that.” Firestar turned to Sandstorm and touched his nose to hers. “Good-bye. I'll be back soon.”

“Good luck.” Sandstorm blinked at him. “I hope you find some answers. It feels like you're a long way away just now.”

Giving her ear a final lick, Firestar plunged into the bushes up to the top of the slope on the WindClan side of the hollow. Tallstar was already leading his cats onto the moor: small, dark shapes outlined against a wash of moonlight. Firestar raced after them until he overtook the cat who brought up the rear.

“Hi, Onewhisker,” he panted. “Is it okay if I travel with you? I need to go to Highstones.”

“Sure. No trouble, I hope?”

“Nothing to worry about,” Firestar replied, hoping that was true.

He said good-bye to the WindClan cats on the slope above the hollow where they camped. Dawn was breaking as he set out for Highstones, the pointed mass of rock dark against the pale sky. A chill wind ruffled the short, springy grass, pressing Firestar's fur against his sides. Up here the sky seemed huge, without any trees for cover. The scents were unfamiliar, too: a mixture of gorse, heather, and rabbits, with a sharp tang of peaty earth.

A small, reed-fringed stream crossed Firestar's path. He leaped it easily, startling a rabbit that jumped up under his paws and fled down the slope, its white tail bobbing.
Firestar's paws itched to chase it, but he wouldn't take prey on another Clan's territory; besides, a Clan leader who traveled to Highstones to meet with StarClan at the Moonstone wasn't allowed to eat on the journey.

The sun had risen by the time the barren moorland gave way to lush meadows bounded by hedges and Twoleg fences. A Twoleg nest came into sight, and Firestar heard the distant barking of a dog. He looked around warily, tasting the air, but the dog scent was stale, and he reminded himself that by now the farm dogs, who were left to run loose at night, would be tied up again.

He skirted the Twoleg nest, slinking along in the shadow of a hedge. Another scent drifted toward him, stronger and fresher than the scent of dog: rats! Firestar paused, remembering how on his first journey to Highstones Bluestar had lost a life in a battle with rats very near this place. Pinpointing the source of the scent, he realized that he was downwind of it; with any luck he could pass without letting the rats know he was here.

Not far away from the Twoleg nest was a barn built of rough stone. Firestar headed for it and halted outside the door. A strong scent of cats flowed out of a gap at the bottom. Firestar felt a purr growing in his chest. “Hi,” he mewed. “Can I come in?”

“Firestar!” A delighted meow came from inside the barn, and a black cat's head poked out of the gap. “What are you doing here?”

Firestar slid through the door and stood among the dusty
scraps of straw on the floor of the barn. He was greeted enthusiastically by Ravenpaw, who had been a ThunderClan apprentice when Firestar first came to the forest. Ravenpaw had known too much about Tigerstar's crimes, and Firestar had brought him to the barn before the bloodthirsty deputy murdered him to keep him quiet. Ravenpaw had been scrawny and nervous back then; now he was sleek and full-fed, his black pelt shining in the sunlight that angled through a hole in the barn roof.

“It's good to see you again,” Firestar meowed. The last time he and Ravenpaw had met was at the battle with BloodClan, when the black cat and his friend Barley had joined in the fight with the forest cats.

“Welcome.” Ravenpaw touched noses with his former Clanmate. “Is all well in ThunderClan?”

“Fine,” Firestar replied. “But I—”

He broke off as another voice called out a greeting. Barley, the black-and-white cat who shared the barn with Ravenpaw, appeared at the top of a pile of straw bales and dropped neatly down at Firestar's side. He was a short, compact cat, well muscled, even though his belly was a bit too plump from all the mice that lived in the barn.

“Do you want to hunt?” he offered. “There's plenty of prey. Take as much as you like.”

“I'm sorry, I can't,” Firestar answered regretfully. Water flooded his jaws at the smell of mice; he could hear the tiny squeakings among the straw. “I'm on my way to the Moonstone, so I'm not allowed to eat.”

“That's tough,” meowed Ravenpaw. “But you can rest here, can't you? There's no point in going to Highstones yet. You'll arrive long before sunset.”

“Thanks. I'm so tired I could sleep on my paws.”

Ravenpaw led the way to the opposite side of the barn, where he and Barley had made nests in a loose heap of hay. Barley left them to talk together, giving Firestar a friendly nod before sliding out of the barn.

Firestar turned around two or three times, making himself a comfortable spot before curling up with the sweet-smelling stems tickling his nose.

“So, what brings you to the Moonstone?” Ravenpaw asked, and added hastily, “You don't have to tell me.”

Firestar hesitated. So far the only cat he'd confided in was Cinderpelt, and he hadn't told her everything. He suddenly realized what a relief it would be to share his worries with a cat who didn't look upon him as a leader, but as a friend.

“I've had strange dreams,” he began, describing for Ravenpaw the stretch of unfamiliar moorland and the shrill wailing of cats lost in the mist. “And that's not all. I've started to see things when I'm awake, too. There's one cat—a pale gray warrior—that I've seen three times now. Not just him…a whole Clan of cats, shining like starlight. I saw them last night at the Gathering, but no other cat knew they were there. Sometimes I think I'm going mad.”

Ravenpaw's green eyes were filled with concern. “Are you sure they're not from StarClan?”

For a heartbeat Firestar felt how strange it was to talk
about StarClan with a cat who didn't belong to a Clan anymore.

“Don't think I've forgotten my warrior ancestors,” Ravenpaw put in, as though he guessed what his friend was thinking. “I may not go to Gatherings anymore, but there's a part of me that will always be a Clan cat.”

Firestar blinked, understanding. “I'm sure the cats I've seen aren't any of the warrior ancestors I know. I don't recognize any of them, or their scent. I don't know who or
what
they are, or why I keep seeing them. That's what worries me.”

Ravenpaw flicked the white tip of his tail. “StarClan will probably be able to explain when you share tongues tonight. Why don't you sleep now, so you'll be ready?”

“I think I will,” Firestar murmured. “Wake me at sunhigh, please.”

With a drowsy purr, he settled himself more comfortably in his nest of hay. Sunlight slanted through the dust-filled air, the motes dancing like tiny stars. His eyes closed, and he drifted into a warm, hay-scented sleep.

 

Only a few heartbeats seemed to have passed before Firestar felt a paw prodding him in the side. He blinked his eyes open to see Ravenpaw standing over him.

“It's sunhigh,” the black cat meowed.

Firestar rose and arched his back in a luxurious stretch. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so soundly. In the ThunderClan camp, even if he didn't dream of the moorland, his sleep had been disturbed ever since he first saw the
pale gray cat. He wondered if he had rested so well because he was away from the forest. Was it only there that the strange cats could reach him?

He said a quick good-bye to Barley and Ravenpaw. The prey scent in the barn was more enticing than ever, reminding him of his empty belly. He wished he had taken the time to hunt and eat before he left Fourtrees, but it was too late now. He left the barn and temptation behind him, and set out for Highstones.

By the time he reached the ridge, crossing the Thunderpath and scrambling up the rocky slopes, the sun was going down. The dark hole of Mothermouth gaped in the hillside. Firestar found a flat-topped stone and sat looking out across the Twoleg fields and nests, until darkness fell and the moon shed its silver light over the jagged rocks.

He had walked down the lightless tunnel that led to the Moonstone many times, but fear still gripped his belly as he stepped into the hungry shadows. Only his whiskers brushing the walls on each side and his paws on the rough, downward slope told him which way to go. Once he had left the opening behind him, the air was stale, with a tang of dust and stone. Firestar shivered to think of the weight of rock above his head, pressing down on the fragile tunnel.

At last came the moment when the air grew fresher again, bringing the scents of the moor to his nose. The tunnel opened out into a large cave, and he caught a glimpse of the stars glittering far above, shedding their faint light through a hole in the roof. He could just make out the dark shape of the
Moonstone in front of him, stretching three tail-lengths high from the floor of the cave. Wrapping his tail around his paws, he sat down to wait.

The change came with a blinding flash, as if every star in Silverpelt had poured down into the cave at once. The moon shifted in the sky until it shone down through the hole in the roof; in its light the Moonstone glittered like dew, shedding a pale, sparkling light on the cavern walls and the high, arched roof.

Firestar lay in front of the Moonstone and stretched out until he could touch it with his nose. Cold spread through him from muzzle to tail tip, and he remembered the last time he had come here, to receive his nine lives and his name. It seemed such a long time ago. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.

For countless heartbeats he felt nothing but wind and the scent of night rushing through his fur. Fear swelled up inside him; he gritted his teeth, refusing to lift his nose from the cold, cold stone.

Then his ears picked up a faint sound that gradually grew louder: the rustling of leaves in the breeze. His eyes flew open. Huge branches stretched above his head, barely visible against a dark sky. There was no moon, but the stars of Silverpelt were burning brightly, close enough to look as if they were tangled among the leaves.

Firestar scrambled up and looked around. He was back at Fourtrees, but this time the clearing was empty.

Then starlight sparkled at the edge of his sight, too low to
come from Silverpelt; he spun around to see a blue-furred she-cat padding out of the shadows. Her pelt shone silver, and she left a frosty glitter on the grass where she set her paws.

“Bluestar!” Firestar was overjoyed to see the ThunderClan leader before him. “It's good to see you. Have you come here alone?”

Bluestar padded closer until Firestar could see the gleaming depths of her blue eyes. “I know why you have come,” she replied, “and the questions you want to ask would not be welcomed by many of your warrior ancestors.”

Firestar stared at her. “Do you mean that StarClan know the cats in my dreams? Are they from StarClan too? Why have I never seen them before? And what do they want from me?”

Bluestar brushed her tail across his mouth to silence him. Her eyes were troubled. Firestar felt as though he stood on the verge of a dark secret, and suddenly he didn't want to know what lay in its depths.

“Firestar.” Bluestar's voice was uncertain, hesitant. “Is there any way you would be content to go away without the answer you seek?”