Firestar's Quest (9 page)

The tumbled rocks came into view, rising from the center of a clearing where the gritty soil was covered with small creeping plants and seeding grasses.

“Stay here,” Thornclaw instructed Sootpaw, gesturing with his tail toward a sheltered spot at the base of some brambles.
“Don't move, but give a good loud yowl if you see anything dangerous.”

Sootpaw hesitated, as if he wanted to go on tracking the badger, then went to crouch in the shelter of the brambles with his forepaws tucked under his chest. His gray fur melted into the shadows.

Thornclaw, Willowpelt, and Firestar began to search among the rocks. Firestar paused at the mouth of the den where the dogs had lived, shivers rippling through him from ears to tail tip. He was prepared for the reek of dog to come flowing out of the dark hole, but there was nothing more than a trace of stale fox. Even the fresh badger scent had faded. At first he thought it was because the rocks and thin soil wouldn't hold the odor for long. But when he explored further, brushing under the low-growing branches of a tree at the edge of the clearing, he realized that the badger hadn't come this far into the territory. The scent trail had vanished before he reached the rocks.

“Willowpelt? Thornclaw?” he called. “I've lost the trail over here.”

He broke off as a fresh whiff of scent reached him. Firestar spun around to see a huge shape, black and yellowish white, rearing up from behind the bramble thicket, its massive paws ready to slam down on the cowering apprentice.

“Sootpaw! Move!” Firestar yowled.

He sprang forward but he didn't see how he could reach Sootpaw before the badger swatted him with its blunt, powerful paws.

Then he spotted Willowpelt diving from the top of a rock to streak across the ground and shove Sootpaw out of the way with outstretched forepaws. The badger landed heavily on her back; her shriek was cut off with a sickening crunch as the huge creature snapped her neck. It scooped up her limp body with one paw and tossed it into the clearing.

Sootpaw let out a thin, wailing cry. Firestar flung himself at the badger, snarling as he raked his claws down its side. The huge striped head turned, snapping at him with gleaming white teeth. Ashfur dashed in from the other side, leaping up to bury his claws in the badger's neck and fasten his teeth in its ear. It shook him off easily; Ashfur hit the ground and lay still, winded.

Thornclaw crouched in front of the badger, spitting and clawing at its eyes as it loomed over him. Firestar scored its flank again, feeling a fierce satisfaction as blood welled up in
the tracks of his claws. The badger let out a bellow of pain. It swung its head from side to side, then turned and lumbered off into the undergrowth. Thornclaw and Ashfur charged after it with earsplitting caterwauls.

“Come back!” Firestar yowled. “Let it go!”

Panting, he closed his eyes briefly, listening as the sound of the badger's paws faded into the distance. Then he braced himself and padded over to where Sootpaw was crouched beside the body of his mother. He looked up as Firestar approached, his eyes pleading.

“She's not dead, is she? She can't be dead.”

“I'm sorry.” Firestar bent his head and touched Sootpaw's forehead with his nose. Only five moons had passed since the young cat's father, Whitestorm, had died in the battle with BloodClan.
How could StarClan let this happen?
“She died bravely, like a warrior.”

“She died saving me!” Sootpaw's voice was shrill with anguish.

“Don't blame yourself.” Firestar gave his shoulder a comforting lick. “Willowpelt knew what she was doing.”

“But she…” Sootpaw fell silent, trembling with shock, and pushed his nose into his mother's fur.

Firestar looked up to see Thornclaw and Ashfur returning; Ashfur was limping heavily.

“It's gone toward the Thunderpath,” Thornclaw reported. “I hope a monster gets it.” He padded over to Sootpaw and sat beside him, looping his tail over the young cat's shoulders. Sootpaw didn't look up.

“Are you okay?” Firestar asked Ashfur.

The younger warrior flexed his shoulder muscles. “I think so. I landed hard; that's all.”

“Better let Cinderpelt take a look anyway, when we get back to camp.”

Ashfur nodded. Together he and Firestar lifted Willowpelt's limp body and began to carry her back to the ravine. Her drooping tail scored a faint line in the dust. Thornclaw followed, leading the stunned Sootpaw.

Wrapped in grief, Firestar didn't notice the sound or scent of approaching cats until Cloudtail emerged from a clump of bracken almost under his paws.

“Firestar, you're back!” the white warrior exclaimed. “Are you—” He broke off, his blue eyes flaring with alarm. “That's Willowpelt. What happened?”

Dustpelt and Brackenfur joined Cloudtail to listen, horrified, as Firestar set down the dead warrior and described how she had given her life to save Sootpaw.

“Let me get my claws on that badger,” Cloudtail hissed when Firestar had finished. “I'll make it wish it had never been kitted.”

“Shouldn't we follow it?” Dustpelt suggested. “We should make sure it really has gone.”

Firestar nodded. “It headed for the Thunderpath,” he meowed. “Cloudtail, take your patrol and see if you can pick up its scent. Follow it and find out what it does, if you can, but
don't
attack it. Is that clear?”

Cloudtail lashed his tail. “If you say so.”

“If it settles in our territory, we'll make a plan to get rid of it,” Firestar promised. “But I won't risk losing more cats unless I have to.”

Muttering under his breath, Cloudtail led his patrol back along the trail toward Snakerocks.
Great StarClan, let them all come back
, Firestar prayed as they vanished into the undergrowth.

Firestar's legs felt heavy with exhaustion as he and Ashfur struggled to maneuver Willowpelt's body through the gorse tunnel. Pain for his Clanmates stabbed deep into his heart. He was their leader; he was supposed to protect them, not let cats die when he was with them.

When he reached the clearing, Graystripe and Sandstorm were sitting together by the fresh-kill pile. They exchanged a questioning glance when they spotted him; Firestar guessed they were wondering why he had spent the night away from camp. SkyClan's troubles crashed over him again, heavier than the weight of Willowpelt's body, but he had to push them away. There was no time to think of the lost Clan now.

Both cats sprang up and raced over to him.

“Firestar, what happened?” Graystripe asked.

“I'll tell you soon,” Firestar promised hoarsely. “I have to take Willowpelt to Cinderpelt first, so she can prepare for the vigil.”

“I'll let her know.” Sandstorm spun around and sped off to the medicine cat's den.

By the time Firestar and Ashfur had crossed the camp, Cinderpelt had emerged from the fern tunnel.

“Lay her body there,” she directed, pointing with her tail to a shady spot under the ferns. “She'll be out of the sun until dusk falls.”

The two cats did as she suggested; Sootpaw settled down beside his mother's body as if his legs couldn't hold him up another moment. His eyes stared into the distance, glazed with horror, as if he couldn't stop reliving that terrible moment.

“Sootpaw needs something for shock,” Firestar murmured to Cinderpelt. “And Ashfur might have damaged his shoulder.”

The medicine cat nodded. “I'll fetch him some poppyseeds. Ashfur, come with me.”

As the gray warrior followed Cinderpelt to her den, another shriek sounded from the opposite side of the camp. Firestar's head whipped around, and he saw Rainpaw and Sorrelpaw racing across from the apprentice's den. Sorrelpaw flung herself down beside her mother's body, pressing herself against her cold flank, while Rainpaw halted in front of Firestar.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“A badger killed her,” Firestar replied. “I'm sorry, Rainpaw. No cat could have stopped it.”

The apprentice glared at him for a moment more, his fur bristling. Then his head and tail drooped and he turned away without a word, to settle down beside his brother and sister.

“They'll all need Cinderpelt to look after them,” Sandstorm murmured.

Firestar was too sick at heart to reply. Brushing his mate's fur with his tail, he trudged across the camp and scrambled
up onto the Highrock to call the Clan for a meeting. Already cats were creeping out of their dens, shocked and bewildered as they learned about Willowpelt's death.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” Firestar began when they were all assembled. “Willowpelt is dead. She died bravely, and her spirit will be honored in StarClan.”

“How did it happen?” Speckletail called out.

Firestar felt as if an extra weight of sorrow descended on him every time he had to tell the story. “The badger ran off toward the Thunderpath,” he finished. “I sent Cloudtail's patrol to track it.”

Brightheart, sitting outside the nursery, flinched when he mentioned her mate, while Ferncloud drew her kits closer to her with a sweep of her tail. Spiderkit and Shrewkit pressed themselves into her fur, gazing up at Firestar with huge scared eyes.

“What about my kits?” Ferncloud demanded. “What if the badger comes here?”

“Unlikely,” Firestar replied, flexing his claws on the hard rock. “It was a young one, and I think it's learned that cats aren't easy prey. We'll know more when Cloudtail comes back. I promise you,” he added, “we'll do everything we can to make sure it doesn't settle in our territory.”

Ferncloud didn't look convinced, but there wasn't any more he could say to reassure her.

“Tonight we will sit vigil for Willowpelt,” he announced, and sprang down from the Highrock to show that the meeting was over.

“They're badly shaken,” Graystripe commented, padding over with Sandstorm to join Firestar outside the entrance to his den.

“Those three apprentices especially,” Sandstorm added, compassion in her green gaze. “This is a bad time for them to lose their mother.”

Firestar nodded sadly. “It's the first cat we've lost since the battle with BloodClan. I think it's hard for all of us to understand that even if we're at peace with the other Clans, the forest isn't completely safe.”

For some reason, alarm lit in Graystripe's and Sandstorm's eyes as he spoke, and they exchanged a swift glance. Firestar didn't understand, but after the stress of his meeting with the SkyClan warrior, and the horrible shock of meeting the badger, he didn't have the energy to question his friends.

“We'll talk later,” he mumbled, and padded slowly across the camp to the fresh-kill pile.

 

When night had fallen, the elders brought Willowpelt's body into the center of the camp for her vigil. Firestar joined them there; he looked up to see the stars of Silverpelt blazing, as if they waited to welcome Willowpelt's spirit.

“She was much loved,” Dappletail rasped, smoothing the gray warrior's fur with one forepaw. “And far too young to die. She had much more to give her Clan.”

“I know,” Firestar agreed, feeling hollow with grief. He had been with Willowpelt when the badger attacked Sootpaw, but he had been unable to save her.
Call yourself a
leader?
he asked himself savagely.

He watched as Cinderpelt guided the three apprentices to their mother's side; the medicine cat murmured comforting words as the young cats crouched down and pushed their noses into the still gray fur. More of the Clan gathered around, some staying for a little while before going silently to their dens, while others settled beside Willowpelt's body to keep watch during the night.

How can I leave now? I can't abandon my Clan to go off into the unknown, searching for a Clan that doesn't exist anymore. Maybe I can't protect them from badgers that kill or rabbits that blind them, but my place is still here, serving my Clan. That's what it means to be a leader.

Firestar looked up at Silverpelt, wondering if the starry warriors approved of his decision. But the glittering specks of light seemed very far away, and they gave no answer.

He kept watch beside his dead warrior's body until the first rays of dawn reached through the trees. A faint breeze ruffled Willowpelt's fur. Speckletail rose to her paws. “It's time,” she meowed.

She and the other elders lifted Willowpelt's body and carried it slowly out of the camp for burial. The rest of the Clan emerged from their dens and watched them go in respectful silence. When Willowpelt's gray fur was lost to sight in the gorse tunnel, Cinderpelt swept her tail around to gather the three apprentices close to her.

“No training for them today,” she told Firestar. “They need to rest.”

Firestar nodded. “You know best, Cinderpelt.”

His limbs stiff from crouching all night, he stumbled to his paws and headed for his den. As soon as he sank into the soft moss of his bedding, darkness swept over him like a crow's wing.

The sparkling scent of swift-flowing water flooded around him, and Firestar found himself walking beside a river. Sunlight danced on the surface; the silver shapes of fish flickered in the shallows. He paused and looked around. The trees and bushes on the riverbank were unfamiliar, and he knew that he was dreaming.

There was a sudden turbulence in the water, and a cat's head broke the surface, a plump silver fish gripped tightly in its jaws. As it swam to the bank and padded out of the water, Firestar recognized Silverstream, the RiverClan cat who had fallen in love with Graystripe and died bearing his kits. The drops of water clinging to her fur shone as brightly as stars.

Dropping the fish in front of him, she meowed, “Greetings, Firestar. This fish is for you.” When he hesitated, she pushed it closer to him. “Go on, eat.”

“But it isn't a ThunderClan fish,” Firestar protested. “I don't want to steal prey.”

Silverstream let out a little
mrrow
of amusement. “You're not stealing; it's a gift. It's not a RiverClan fish either. You looked hungry, so I thought I would catch you some food.”

“Thank you.” Firestar didn't hesitate any longer. Sinking his teeth into the fish, he thought he had never tasted anything so delicious. With every mouthful he felt strength pouring back into his tired body.

While he was still eating, Silverstream padded closer to him and mewed softly into his ear, “Remember the life I gave you when you became leader of your Clan? I told you it was for loyalty to what you know to be right. Firestar, that isn't always the same as following the warrior code.” When he turned to her in surprise, she added in a whisper, “I always knew it was right for me and Graystripe to be together, even though we came from different Clans. There are some things that are too big to be contained in the warrior code.”

She touched her nose to his flank, then padded back to the river and launched herself into the water.

“Good-bye, Silverstream,” Firestar called.

He thought he heard her last word of farewell shivering in the air as the dazzle of light on the water swallowed her up. Where she had vanished, the image of fleeing SkyClan cats appeared, leaping and flickering through the waves. Then Firestar was blinking awake in his own den, with the taste of fish in his mouth and his belly comfortably full.

Silverstream obviously believed he should go on the journey to find SkyClan. The warrior code did not account for everything that happened beneath the stars, and now he had to make amends for what the other four Clans had done so long ago. Since a StarClan cat had come to tell him this, was it the will of his warrior ancestors that the lost Clan should be restored? Perhaps even StarClan felt guilty for what they had allowed to happen.