Firestar's Quest (8 page)

“Hi,” she meowed. Her amber eyes examined Firestar
without a trace of fear. “Who's this, Smudge? I've never seen him before.”

Smudge twitched one ear. “His name's Firestar. He lives in the forest.”

“I'm called Hattie,” the tabby introduced herself. “I've never met a forest cat before. How do you know Smudge?”

“I've known him since I was a kit,” Firestar explained. “I used to live here, in this Twoleg nest.”

“Really? But this is my home now!” The tabby's eyes stretched wide. “Why did you leave?”

“It's a long story.” Firestar didn't expect any kittypet, even this lively tabby, to understand what had called him out of his safe life with Twolegs to the danger and excitement of the forest.

“I've got time to listen,” Hattie meowed.

Firestar was aware of Smudge close beside him, quivering with tension. “Sorry,” he meowed. “Maybe another time.”

Hattie looked disappointed. “Don't you want to see where you used to live?” she mewed persuasively. “My Twolegs dug up a bush that was so old its roots stretched nearly the whole way across the garden, and planted some new trees that are great for scratching.”

Firestar opened his jaws to refuse, but the words didn't come. He stood silent, gazing at the fence. An old bush…how old? Suppose it had been here before the Twoleg nests were built? Did that mean it had been here when
SkyClan
lived in the forest? Were there any other remnants of SkyClan's former territory that might have survived?

“Firestar, why are you standing there
with your mouth open?” Smudge asked crossly.

“Sorry.” For a moment Firestar had been caught up in the lost world of SkyClan, gaping as if he expected prey to jump into his jaws. “Okay,” he added to Hattie. “I'll have a quick look from the fence.” Flicking his tail to draw Smudge a couple of pawsteps away, he murmured, “I won't be long. This might help with your dreams.”

Smudge looked doubtful, and shot an anxious glance at Hattie.

“Don't worry; I won't tell her anything,” Firestar promised.

He sprang up to sit on the fence and looked down into the garden. He remembered the bush now: it had been brittle and straggly, and some of its branches had been leafless. In the place where it had been a new young tree was growing with soft, tempting bark; from his place on the fence Firestar could see Hattie's claw marks scoring the trunk.

Hattie leaped up beside him and pointed with her tail. “That's where the bush used to be, and there's the scratching
tree. And there's another new one, next to Smudge's fence, that's even better.”

Firestar heard scrabbling farther along the fence, and Smudge hauled himself up to sit beside Hattie. “Well, what do you see?” he demanded in a low voice.

“Nothing yet,” Firestar admitted. He studied the Twoleg nests, trying to imagine what this part of the forest would have been like before the trees were cut down.

His eyes narrowed as he glanced up and down the row of nests. Smudge's nest lay in a slight dip, lower than the others. If Firestar had been leading a Clan back then, and had to choose a place for a camp, he would have wanted it in a sheltered hollow, perhaps with bramble bushes for extra protection, like the WindClan camp. He drew in a swift breath, feeling every hair on his pelt stand on end. Could Smudge's nest have been built right on top of the old SkyClan camp? That might explain why he had been dreaming so vividly about the fleeing cats.

“Smudge,” he began, interrupting a discussion between his friend and Hattie about catmint, “is it okay if I stay with you tonight?”

Smudge blinked in surprise. “Of course. But will it be okay with…with the other cats in your Clan?”

His concern moved Firestar. Smudge might be a kittypet, but he was a true friend. “They'll be fine, I promise. I just think this will help me figure out, you know, what we were talking about earlier.”

“Oh, I see.” Smudge looked alarmed as he added, “But I'm
not sure how easy it'll be getting you inside the nest.”

“I don't need to come inside,” Firestar told him.
StarClan forbid!
“I'll be fine in the garden, thanks.”

The black-and-white cat nodded. “Okay. Well, come on over.”

“I've got to find my Clanmates first and let them know I won't be back tonight.”

Firestar jumped down from the fence, back into the forest. Behind him, he heard Hattie meowing inquisitively, “Why does Firestar want to stay in your garden? Why doesn't he want to stay in mine?”

Firestar raced through the trees until he reached the place where he had last seen his Clanmates. Before he could begin tracking them by scent, Thornclaw appeared from behind a clump of brambles, carrying two mice by their tails.

He dropped his prey in front of Firestar. “I thought you must have gone back to camp.”

“No, something's come up.” Firestar was reluctant to explain any further. “I won't be back until tomorrow. There's nothing wrong,” he added, seeing that Thornclaw was starting to look worried. “Just tell Graystripe that he's in charge until then.”

“Okay. Cloudtail and I are just about ready to take our prey back.”

Firestar said good-bye and retraced his pawsteps through the trees to the Twoleg nests. There was no sign of Smudge, but Hattie was sitting where he had left her.

“You still haven't told me how you joined your Clan,” she
mewed as Firestar leaped up onto Smudge's fence. She sounded put out. “Don't you want to visit your old home properly?”

Firestar didn't want to upset her, and he
was
curious to see the place where he had spent the first moons of his life. Balancing carefully, he walked along the fence to Hattie's side. “All right, I'll come for a little while.”

Hattie let out a little trill of pleasure and leaped down into her garden. Firestar followed; his nose twitched at the unfamiliar scents. The flowers seemed to glare at him in the sunlight, and the close-cut grass pricked his pads. Everything seemed familiar and yet strange, as if he were gazing through some other cat's eyes at something he had never experienced himself.

“Come and have a scratch,” Hattie invited, racing over to the tree and standing on her hind paws to score her claws down the length of the trunk. “It's really good.” Whirling, she pointed with her tail. “And that's the bush where birds come hopping after snails. Did they do that when you were here?”

“Yes,” Firestar replied, chasing the vague memory. “Have you ever tried to catch one?”

Hattie wrinkled her nose with distaste. “Why would I want to do that? There would be blood and feathers everywhere—ugh!”

Firestar bit back an annoyed response. A kittypet couldn't understand that a bird—even the scrawniest, toughest thrush—might be the only thing that kept a Clan cat from starvation.

“I used to stalk the birds,” he remarked, padding over to the bush and ducking underneath its branches. “I never caught one, though. They were too quick for me. I learned how to catch prey when I went into the forest.”

“I can't understand why you left your housefolk,” Hattie mewed, padding over to sit beside him. “They—”

She broke off at the sound of footsteps approaching. Firestar sprang up and whipped around to see his former Twolegs walking down the path that led around the side of the nest. They had a kit with them—a female, staggering along on short, stubby legs, and clinging with one paw to her mother.

Before the Twolegs could spot him, Firestar darted out of the bush; one outlying branch raked through his fur. He flung himself up the wooden strips of the fence, over the top, and down into the shade of the forest. As soon as his paws touched the ground, he dived into the shelter of a clump of ferns and crouched there, his ears straining for the sound of the Twolegs coming after him. Had he moved fast enough, or had they seen him? He couldn't even be sure they'd recognize him after so many seasons, but it wasn't worth the risk.

Gradually his breath slowed. Everything was quiet in the Twoleg gardens. He couldn't hear any sounds of Twolegs searching for him, only the rustle of the trees and the tiny sounds of scuffling prey. But he stayed hidden until the sun began to set, bathing the forest in scarlet light.

Venturing out of the shadow of the fern fronds, he scented the vole he had killed earlier, dug it up, and devoured it in
hungry gulps. Then in the twilight he crept cautiously back to the Twoleg nests and scaled the fence to land unseen in Smudge's garden.

He padded forward, looking for a place to sleep near the center of the dip, where he imagined the SkyClan camp would have been. A faint sound made him jump, but it was only Smudge, dropping down from the low branch of a tree.

“There you are!” the kittypet gasped. “I thought you'd gone back to the forest. Hattie told me what happened with your old Twolegs.”

Firestar didn't want to talk about that. “I just kept out of sight until they'd gone,” he explained.

Smudge gave his chest fur a few rapid licks, as if he was trying to hide how anxious he had been. “Are you sure you'll be able to sleep out here?” he went on. “It'll be cold now that the sun's gone.”

“Smudge, I sleep out every night,” Firestar reminded him. “I'm used to it. I don't think I could sleep inside a Twoleg nest if I tried.”

Smudge blinked. “Oh, okay. I just thought—”

He broke off as the door of the nest swung open and yellow light poured out into the dusky garden. A female Twoleg stood there, yowling, with a bowl in her hand.

“I've got to go,” Smudge meowed, while Firestar crouched down behind a clump of feathery grasses. “My supper's ready. Are you sure—”

Firestar suppressed a sigh. “I'll be fine, honestly.”

“Good night, then.” Smudge ran across the grass with his
tail in the air and rubbed against the Twoleg. She bent down to stroke him, then closed the door.

Firestar padded down into the dip until he reached a bush covered with sweet-smelling white flowers that glimmered pale in the dim light. Sliding underneath the low-growing branches, he scraped out a rough nest, and sneezed as a couple of petals drifted down onto his nose.

As he curled up, he thought how strange it felt to be back in Twolegplace after so long. The faint sounds coming from the nest were oddly familiar, and so was the orange light spreading over the sky. The harsh glow hid the stars, so that Firestar felt even farther away from his warrior ancestors. Gazing up through the branches, he formed a silent prayer, but it was not to StarClan.

Warrior of SkyClan, wherever you are, visit me in my dreams
.

Damp cold woke him, soaking into his pelt. Above his head, the orange sky was softened by mist. Shivering, he crawled out from under the bush to stretch his stiff legs, and froze midway through a stretch.

The gray-and-white cat was sitting a few tail-lengths away. Mist wreathed around him, and he watched Firestar with eyes the color of a pale winter sky.

“I have been waiting for you,” he meowed.

“Wh-who are you?” Firestar stammered.
“What's your name?”

The strange cat looked at him blankly. “It's been so long since any cat spoke my name, I don't need it anymore.” His eyes spoke to Firestar of deep sadness; his voice ached with it, so that Firestar could hardly bear to listen.

“Do you come from SkyClan?” he asked, though he was almost sure what the answer would be.

The pale-furred cat twitched his whiskers in surprise. “You know of SkyClan, then?”

“A little,” Firestar mewed. “I spoke with a warrior of StarClan. She told me that there were once five Clans in the forest, but SkyClan left when—”

“Left?” The SkyClan warrior's voice was full of contempt. “We didn't
leave
. The other Clans drove us out of the forest because they said there was no room for us anymore.”

Firestar stared at him. When he had spoken to Bluestar, she had let him believe that SkyClan had gone away of their own accord when the Twoleg monsters had invaded their territory. She never told him that the other Clans had driven them away. Surely the warrior code wouldn't allow it? Yet he
couldn't suppress a nagging thought: would
he
want to give up any of ThunderClan's territory if another Clan had asked for it?

“Couldn't StarClan do anything to help you?” he asked.

“StarClan!” The SkyClan cat spat out the word, lashing his tail. “StarClan betrayed us. They allowed the other Clans to chase us out like rogues. When we left the forest, I vowed that I would never look to the stars again.”

“A Clan without warrior ancestors?” Firestar was bewildered.

“Our medicine cat still walked with them in dreams,” the SkyClan cat told him. “And many of our warriors kept to the old ways. I never tried to stop them. They had lost their home; how could I take the warrior code away from them as well?”

The strange cat spoke as though he had been the leader of his Clan. But before Firestar could ask him if this was true, the pale-furred warrior straightened up and looked around. “Once we roamed over all this territory, patrolled our borders, and caught as much prey as we wanted. But then the Twolegs came.” The throbbing note of sadness returned to his voice, raising every hair on Firestar's pelt. “This was once our camp,” he went on, indicating Smudge's garden with a sweep of his tail. “Where we are standing used to be the warriors' den. The Twoleg nest stands where our nursery was. Our apprentices' den was beneath ferns along the line of the fence, and under those bushes over there was where our elders slept.” He sighed. “It was all so long ago….”

“Where is the SkyClan camp now?”

The gray-and-white cat stared at his paws. “SkyClan have no camp,” he mewed quietly. “My Clan has broken apart and scattered.”

Firestar was puzzled. “Then there's no SkyClan anymore?”

The SkyClan warrior's neck fur bristled and he drew back his lips in the beginning of a snarl. “I did not say that. I said that our home has gone and my Clanmates have scattered. Some became rogues, and some went to live with Twolegs as kittypets. But SkyClan still lives, although the cats have forgotten their heritage and the warrior code.”

Bewildered, Firestar wondered how the other cat could insist SkyClan survived without any territory, if it had broken up and no cat knew the warrior code. What made a Clan if their home and heritage were gone?

“So why have you come to me?” he asked.

“Because you're the only cat who can help us,” the warrior replied. He padded forward until he stood within a tail-length of Firestar, and his faint, fugitive scent wreathed around the ThunderClan leader. “You must rebuild SkyClan before it is lost forever.”

Firestar stared at him. How could he rebuild a scattered Clan, when he had no idea how to find its cats, and he had a Clan of his own to lead? “But I—”

The SkyClan warrior ignored him. “You must follow the river to its source,” he commanded. “We fled upstream, and that is where you will find the remnants of the Clan, and a place where they can live.”

Firestar's mind whirled. “But…but why me?”

The gray cat fixed his gaze on Firestar, his eyes glowing with sorrow. “I have waited long for you to come, a strong cat, a leader, and one who bears no taint of our betrayal in his blood. You are not descended from the cats that drove us out, and yet you are a true Clan warrior. It is your destiny to restore SkyClan.”

Mist swirled around him and his pelt seemed to fade into it, leaving Firestar gazing at the patch of grass where he had stood. Only his scent lingered.

Firestar sat down and wrapped his tail over his paws. He still had not moved when the first traces of dawn appeared in the sky.

 

The faint wailing of a cat roused him. He sprang to his paws, fur bristling. Was the camp being attacked? Then he remembered where he was; besides, the wailing sounded more impatient than terrified.

Suddenly the door of the Twoleg nest opened and Smudge shot out.

“Honestly!” he panted, hurtling over the grass. “Sometimes I think my Twolegs are
stupid
! I asked and asked to come out, but would they get up and open the door?”

“Well, you're here now,” Firestar meowed, glad that he didn't have to depend on Twolegs for his freedom.

“Well? Did you dream about my cats?” Smudge demanded.

Firestar nodded. “I spoke to the gray-and-white cat, and I know what I have to do now.”

“What
you
have to do? But what about me? Why did I get the dreams as well?”

Firestar raised his tail to silence Smudge's anxious questions. “The cats you saw left the forest a long time ago,” he explained. “Now they're asking for help. You dreamed about them because this is where they used to live.”

“Here?” Smudge gazed around his garden as if he expected the long-lost cats to emerge from the bushes right then. “So you're going to help them?”

“Yes, if I can.”

When Firestar saw the relief in Smudge's eyes, he wondered if that was exactly true. He would have to leave his Clanmates and go on a long journey without knowing where it led. He would have to find a scattered Clan that had long since been abandoned by StarClan. Why should it be his destiny to save them, whether or not ThunderClan's ancestors carried the guilt of driving them out? His duty lay with ThunderClan, and with the warrior code he had known ever since he came into the forest.

“I'd better go,” he mewed to Smudge. “I'll tell the patrols to keep a lookout for you—and not to jump on you.”

“Thanks,” Smudge replied. “I'm really grateful, Firestar. You're a good friend, but I'm glad I don't have to come and live with you in the forest!”

“I'm glad too.” Firestar gave Smudge a friendly flick on the ear with the tip of his tail. “I know you wouldn't like it.”

“Good-bye, then. I'll see you around sometime.” Smudge began retreating toward the door of the nest, glancing over
his shoulder to add, “Let's hope they can be a bit quicker letting me
in
.”

Determined to be gone before Smudge's Twolegs found him in their garden, Firestar bounded across the grass and leaped to the top of the fence.

“Good-bye, Firestar!” It was Hattie's voice; Firestar spotted her in the next garden, balanced on a low branch of the scratching tree. He waved his tail to her in farewell. “Come and see us again!” she called as he sprang down from the fence and plunged back into the shadow of the trees.

Once he was out of sight of the Twoleg nests he slowed his pace. For once the forest seemed strange to him. He felt oddly detached from it, as if it weren't real anymore. Instead, he kept thinking of the moorland, and the wails of fleeing cats. Was he really meant to be following in their pawsteps?

After the damp night, the sun had risen into a clear blue sky. Every bush was draped with glittering cobwebs, and dew sparkled on every blade of grass, soaking Firestar's fur as he brushed through. He halted, his paws tingling when he picked up the scent of approaching cats, only to relax as Thornclaw pushed through a clump of ferns, closely followed by Sootpaw, Sootpaw's mother, Willowpelt, and Ashfur.

Firestar gave his pelt an annoyed shake. Of course, this was the dawn patrol! Was his mind so full of SkyClan that he couldn't recognize the scent of his own Clanmates?

“Hi, Firestar.” Thornclaw padded up to him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes—everything's fine.” Firestar wasn't about to explain
why he had spent the night away from camp.

Thornclaw exchanged a swift glance with Willowpelt, then turned back to his Clan leader. “Graystripe suggested I should take Sootpaw out with me today,” he meowed, resting the tip of his tail on the apprentice's shoulder. “Longtail can't mentor him when his eyes are so bad.”

“Good idea.” A pang of guilt stabbed Firestar like a claw; he should have thought about Sootpaw's training as soon as his mentor, Longtail, had his accident. His dreams of SkyClan were distracting him from his duty to his Clan. “In fact,” he went on, “I think you should take over as Sootpaw's mentor until Longtail is fit again.”
If he ever is
. Firestar didn't dare say it out loud. He was reluctant to admit, even to himself, that Cinderpelt wouldn't be able to save Longtail from blindness.

Thornclaw's eyes gleamed. He was a young warrior, and so far he hadn't had an apprentice. “Thanks, Firestar!” he meowed.

“I'll announce it later today,” Firestar promised. “Providing Longtail agrees.”

“I'm sure he will,” Sootpaw put in. “I've been taking him fresh-kill and fixing his bedding, and I can still do that.”

“Good.” Firestar gave him an approving nod. Needing to plunge himself back into the life of his Clan, he added, “I'll join you on patrol, and Sootpaw, you can show me your tracking skills.”

The apprentice's eyes shone with excitement at the thought of training with his Clan leader. As Thornclaw led
the way along the border toward the Thunderpath, Sootpaw kept his nose to the ground, pausing to scent the air every few pawsteps.

“What can you smell?” Firestar meowed.

“The Thunderpath,” Sootpaw replied promptly. “And vole. And a Twoleg with a dog has been along here. No—two dogs.”

“How long ago?” Willowpelt asked.

“Not today,” Sootpaw mewed. “The scent is stale. Maybe yesterday.”

“That's what I think, too,” Firestar meowed, while Willowpelt let out a purr of satisfaction. “Okay, carry on. Sootpaw, tell me if you scent anything else.”

They were so close to the Thunderpath that Firestar could hear the growling of the monsters as they rushed up and down. Soon they emerged from the undergrowth at the edge of the smooth black surface.

Sootpaw wrinkled his nose. “It's really yucky,” he complained. “It hides all the other scents.”

“Right,” meowed Thornclaw. “That means you have to be extra careful.”

With the rest of the patrol following, he picked his way along the edge of the Thunderpath, keeping well away from the huge black paws of the monsters. Firestar felt his fur buffeted by the wind as they passed by.

He helped Thornclaw, Ashfur, and Willowpelt renew the border scent markings, and watched Sootpaw as the apprentice went on practicing his scenting skills. Suddenly the
young black cat veered away from the border.

“Hey, where do you think you're going?” Thornclaw called.

Sootpaw glanced back, eyes alight with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. “I've found a really weird scent,” he explained.

“Well, you can't follow it now,” Thornclaw told him. “This isn't a hunting patrol.”

“What sort of weird?” Firestar asked. The reek of the Thunderpath was still blocking out most other scents.

“Strong,” Sootpaw replied. “I've never smelled it before.”

Firestar exchanged a glance with Thornclaw. “Okay, let's follow it.”

This time Sootpaw led the way deeper into the undergrowth, and as they left the Thunderpath behind, Firestar began to pick up the new scent. He halted, his fur prickling. “Badger!”

“Oh, no!” Willowpelt protested.

Thornclaw snorted. “Just what we need.” Ashfur remained silent, but his blue eyes widened.

“Are badgers bad?” Sootpaw asked.

“Pretty bad,” Ashfur replied.

“We certainly don't want one on our territory,” Willowpelt agreed.

Firestar remembered one leaf-bare, when snow was on the ground and prey was scarce. Cloudtail had been a kit then, and a hungry badger had attacked him in the ravine. Only swift action from Firestar and Brackenfur had saved him. Badgers didn't normally prey on cats, but if they were hungry
or scared they made formidable, deadly opponents.

“The scent's fresh,” he meowed. “We'll have to follow it to find out where the badger is and whether it's going to make a den here. Well done, Sootpaw. That was a useful bit of tracking.”

The apprentice's eyes glowed.

“Firestar's right,” Thornclaw added. “Now, keep behind me, and let's go.”

He took the lead, with Sootpaw and Willowpelt hard on his paws. Ashfur followed them, while Firestar brought up the rear, padding along with the strong scent of the badger in his nose. He felt his muscles tensing beneath his fur; he half expected a chunky black-and-white body to come trampling out of the undergrowth.

The trees began to thin out; the badger trail was leading toward Snakerocks. Firestar felt exposed and vulnerable, convinced that small, malevolent eyes were watching him from every thornbush or bramble thicket. This was a bad place for ThunderClan cats. When the dogs were loose in the forest they had made their den at Snakerocks; Swiftpaw had died in their jaws, and Brightheart had received her terrible injuries. Firestar imagined he could still scent the reek of spilled blood.