Firestar's Quest

by Erin Hunter

  Yellowfang started to look for herbs as they continued, to teach her apprentice what they looked like and what they were used for. But she hurried more quickly past the border with the Twolegplace, even though Runningpaw wanted to linger.

  “Do we ever go there?” he asked, staring curiously at the sharp red Twoleg dens. “I think it’d be cool to meet a kittypet!”

  Yellowfang felt her fur bristle as she thought of Hal and the other kittypets who had attacked the camp. “No, it wouldn’t be cool,” she snapped. “We don’t go there and they don’t come here. We don’t bother one another, and that’s best for all of us.”

  “Okay.” Runningpaw blinked, looking slightly disappointed. Then he brightened up and pattered along beside Yellowfang as she headed back to the camp.

  As they approached the camp entrance, Yellowfang heard a voice raised angrily, and flinched as she recognized that it was Brokenpaw’s.

  “But I want to! Why can’t I?”

  Rounding a bramble thicket, Yellowfang came upon Brokenpaw and Nightpelt glaring at each other. Brokenpaw’s fur was bushed out to twice his size, and his yellow eyes shone.

  “Because we’ve done enough for one day, touring the whole territory,” Nightpelt explained. “We—” He had to break off to cough, the only sign that he was under stress, for his tone was calm and patient.

  “But I want to learn battle moves!” his apprentice insisted.

  “Training will begin tomorrow. We’ll start with hunting practice. Don’t you want to catch your own prey?”

  “I want to fight,” Brokenpaw growled, tearing at a clump of ferns with unsheathed claws. “Look how strong I am! I’m bigger than the other apprentices. They can do the hunting and the boring stuff around the camp. Let me do battle with the other warriors!”

  Nightpelt’s tail-tip twitched. “There are no battles to fight at the moment, Brokenpaw. You’ll have a chance to learn everything, but you need to go at the right pace. Don’t be impatient!”

  Brokenpaw glared at his mentor for a heartbeat longer, then spun around and stalked away. “Coughing old fool!” he muttered under his breath.

  “Off you go back to camp,” Yellowfang told Runningpaw. “You can choose a piece of prey from the fresh-kill pile.”

  “Thanks, Yellowfang!” her apprentice exclaimed. “And thanks for today. It was awesome!”

  When he had scampered off, Yellowfang padded over to Nightpelt. “Couldn’t you have shown Brokenpaw a couple of moves?” she meowed. “He’s right about being bigger than the other apprentices, and he seems to be getting bored. There’s no reason he can’t learn more quickly, is there?”

  Nightpelt’s eyes narrowed, and Yellowfang realized she might have gone too far. “I’m his mentor, and I’ll decide when he learns to fight!” the warrior retorted. Another coughing fit seized him; when it was over he dipped his head to Yellowfang. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he rasped. “The tour of the territory wore me out. I’m going to rest.”

  As he limped off, Yellowfang stared after him with concern. He’s looking old before his time—and if his cough interferes with training, that won’t be fair to Brokenpaw.

  Emerging from the tunnel, Yellowfang spotted Cedarstar lying with his back against the warm Clanrock, watching his Clanmates feed. Yellowfang marched over to him. But as she approached, she passed a group of elders, stretched out in a sunny spot as they shared tongues and fresh-kill.

  “You don’t get squirrels like you did when I was a warrior,” Deerleap meowed; she had recently moved to the elders’ den with Crowtail and Archeye. “I could climb the highest tree in the forest after a squirrel, no trouble.”

  “Ah, but could you climb down again?” Archeye asked with a mrrow of amusement.

  “I’m not still up there, am I?” Deerleap snapped, slapping at him with her tail.

  Yellowfang noticed that Littlebird was listening with a look of fond indulgence, while Lizardfang shifted restlessly, pushing away his share of the squirrel.

  “I’m too old to need feeding,” he sighed. “I’ll be heading for StarClan soon.”

  “Nonsense!” Littlebird meowed. “You’ve seasons in you yet, Lizardfang.” She clawed at a piece of squirrel and set it in front of him. “Here, try this. It’s lovely and fresh. Rowanberry caught it just for us.”

  Affection for Littlebird surged over Yellowfang, seeing the elder choosing the softest parts of the squirrel for her denmate to eat. She realized that Cedarstar was watching too.

  “The Clan is growing older,” the leader commented softly to her. “Myself included. It’s time to prepare new cats to take over the responsibilities of running the Clan.” Looking Yellowfang up and down, he added, “Sagewhisker chose well in you, Yellowfang. I admit that I had some doubts at first …”

  Oh, no! Yellowfang thought. Does he know about Raggedpelt?

  “But you have more than proven your loyalty and skill,” Cedarstar went on. “Runningpaw is lucky to have you as a mentor.”

  “It was mentoring that I wanted to talk to you about,” Yellowfang meowed, taking the chance Cedarstar offered her. “It’s Nightpelt. His cough is still really bad, and I think it will hinder him being a mentor. Brokenpaw is so strong and fit; he needs a mentor who can keep up with him, and I don’t think Nightpelt can do that.”

  Cedarstar gazed keenly at Yellowfang from narrowed eyes. “I chose Nightpelt deliberately,” he explained, “because I think Brokenpaw has lessons to learn in patience and selflessness. He is a cat who needs to choose between two paths: one that will serve his Clan loyally and one that … will be less helpful.”

  His words chilled Yellowfang. Does he know about Molepelt’s prophecy?

  Cedarstar rose to his paws, dipping his head slightly to show that the conversation was at an end. “I will watch all of the apprentices to make sure they are progressing well,” he meowed. There was a hint of warning in his voice as he added, “Brokenpaw is not to be singled out, at any cost.”

  Reluctantly, Yellowfang nodded.

  “Tell me about the other medicine cats!” Runningpaw begged, bouncing around the medicine cats’ den and getting under Yellowfang’s paws.

  “What for? You’ll meet them soon,” Yellowfang responded.

  Runningpaw had been her apprentice for a quarter moon, and tonight he would go with her to his first full-moon Gathering.

  “But I’m nervous! I won’t know what to say. Please, Yellowfang!”

  “Okay, but let me sort these herbs at the same time.” Yellowfang uncovered the first store and plunged her paw into the hole. “Let’s see … Goosefeather is the ThunderClan medicine cat. He’s a bit … strange. If he snaps at you, pay no attention; he doesn’t mean anything. ThunderClan has a second medicine cat, Featherwhisker. He tends to ask too many questions about ShadowClan.” Yellowfang turned to her apprentice and gave him a hard stare. “Whatever you do, don’t tell him anything.”

  “I won’t, Yellowfang,” Runningpaw promised, eyes wide.

  “Then there’s Hawkheart of WindClan,” Yellowfang went on. “He can sound gruff, but he’s a good cat. And Brambleberry of RiverClan—you’ll like her, she’s so kind and friendly.”

  Yellowfang covered up the first hole, took more herbs out of another one, then laid everything out in front of Runningpaw. “These are for Lizardfang,” she announced. “He says he’s always thirsty, and he’s losing a lot of weight. Now, tell me what these herbs are and why I’m giving them to him.”

  Runningpaw studied the herbs. “That’s sorrel,” he mewed, pointing with one paw. “That’s to build up Lizardfang’s appetite. That one is burnet, to make him feel generally better and stronger, and the juniper berry … oh, StarClan, I’ve forgotten!” He hesitated a moment, gave a sniff, then added, “Is the juniper to strengthen his stomach?”

  “Very good,” Yellowfang purred.

  “I’ll take them to Lizardfang, if you like,” Runningpaw offered. “And I’ll make sure he has wet moss.”

  “Thanks, Running
paw,” Yellowfang responded. “Be as quick as you can, and meet me in the clearing. It’s almost time to go.”

  Her apprentice tucked the herbs into a neat leaf wrap and hurried off. Yellowfang made sure the den was tidy, then followed him out. The cats who were going to the Gathering had assembled around Cedarstar and Raggedpelt in the middle of the clearing. Darkness had fallen, though the moon still hadn’t risen above the trees. The sky was clear except for a few thin puffs of cloud.

  Yellowfang strained to see Brokenpaw. It took her a few moments to spot him; he wasn’t with his mentor, like the other apprentices. She finally saw him standing beside Raggedpelt, who was letting him stay there instead of sending him back to his proper place. Nightpelt just looked resigned. A flash of indignation seared through Yellowfang. Why can’t Nightpelt keep his apprentice under better control?

  Cedarstar waved his tail as the signal to move off. Yellowfang looked around for Runningpaw, who dashed to her side as she was waiting to go through the thorn tunnel.

  “Lizardfang’s okay,” he panted. “He ate the herbs. Littlebird says she’ll fetch him more water if he needs it.”

  “Great.” Yellowfang gave him a nod of approval.

  The Clan trekked through the forest and along the tunnel that led to the patch of ShadowClan territory on the far side of the Thunderpath. As they headed toward Fourtrees, Brokenpaw suddenly shot away from the rest of his Clanmates, racing for the ThunderClan border.

  Cedarstar halted, his tail lashing, and Raggedpelt yowled, “Brokenpaw! Get back here!”

  Brokenpaw paused on the border for a couple of heartbeats before padding back to the group. “I was just making sure that the ThunderClan scent marks were on the right side of the border,” he explained. “This is a vulnerable piece of territory. We can’t neglect it, when getting to Fourtrees is so important.”

  Raggedpelt nodded. “True. But next time ask before you go dashing off.”

  Yellowfang noticed two or three of the older warriors echoing Raggedpelt’s approval, and her heart swelled with pride.

  “Good call,” Blackfoot purred.

  “Yes,” Russetfur added. “I can see you’re going to make your Clan strong, Brokenpaw.”

  “You’ll be a great warrior,” Boulder agreed.

  The ShadowClan cats were the first to arrive at Fourtrees. By now the moon was floating high above, shedding its silvery light over the meeting place. Runningpaw halted at the top of the hollow, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed down. “It’s huge!” he gasped. “Yellowfang, is that the Great Rock where the leaders stand?”

  “That’s right,” Yellowfang told him. “They—”

  She broke off at a triumphant yowl from Brokenpaw. He hurtled down the slope into the hollow, outstripping all the other cats, and dashed straight for the Great Rock. He was bunching his muscles to leap when Nightpelt called him back.

  “You can’t go up there,” he scolded. “That’s only for the leaders.”

  For a heartbeat Brokenpaw looked angry; then he flicked his tail. “One day,” he promised. He raced off to explore the rest of the hollow.

  Before Yellowfang and Runningpaw were halfway down the slope, Brokenpaw was back. “More cats are coming!” he announced.

  Pinestar appeared at the top of the hollow with the cats of ThunderClan behind him. Yellowfang spotted Featherwhisker, and led Runningpaw down to meet him.

  “Greetings,” mewed the ThunderClan medicine cat. “So you have a new apprentice. Welcome,” he greeted Runningpaw. “I hope to see you at the Moonstone soon.”

  Runningpaw ducked his head. “Thank you.”

  “Where’s Goosefeather?” Yellowfang asked.

  Featherwhisker shook his head. “Ill, I’m afraid,” he replied. “He can’t be here tonight.”

  “I’m sorry,” Yellowfang began, then broke off as more cats poured into the clearing. WindClan and RiverClan had arrived together, and Runningpaw was looking a bit daunted.

  “Stay by my side,” Yellowfang told him. “We’ll head for the Great Rock. The medicine cats always sit together at the bottom.”

  Together she and Runningpaw squirmed through the crowd, followed by Featherwhisker. Brambleberry and Hawkheart welcomed Runningpaw warmly, and Yellowfang saw that another young cat was sitting with Hawkheart.

  “This is my new apprentice,” Hawkheart meowed. “His name is Barkpaw.”

  “Oh, great!” Runningpaw exclaimed, sitting beside the brown tom. “We can learn together.”

  Barkpaw gave him a shy nod. “I don’t know much yet,” he mewed. “There are so many different herbs, I get confused.”

  “So do I,” Runningpaw admitted. “I’m really good at clearing out old bedding, though!”

  Glancing up at the Great Rock, Yellowfang saw the four leaders looking down at their Clans, ready to start the Gathering. She silenced the apprentices with a wave of her tail.

  Cedarstar was the first of the leaders to step forward to the front of the Great Rock. “ShadowClan has good news to report,” he meowed. “We have made four new apprentices. Tanglepaw, Brokenpaw, and Deerpaw will train as warriors, while Runningpaw is apprenticed to Yellowfang and will become a medicine cat.”

  The cats in the clearing—especially the ShadowClan cats—began to yowl the names of the new apprentices. Runningpaw sat upright, eyes shining with pride and his whiskers quivering. Yellowfang couldn’t spot Brokenpaw in the throng.

  “The Clan has been strengthening its borders,” Cedarstar went on as the noise died down. “We look forward to good hunting throughout newleaf and greenleaf.” He gave a meaningful glance around at the other Clans, then stepped back to give his place to Pinestar, who was followed by Hailstar of RiverClan and Heatherstar of WindClan.

  All the other leaders had good news to report, and Yellowfang was impressed by how well they looked. Except Pinestar, she thought, wondering if anything was wrong with the ThunderClan leader. He looks a bit listless and distracted.

  The WindClan leader announced Barkpaw’s apprenticeship, and the cats yowled his name too. Barkpaw sat beside Runningpaw looking very proud and embarrassed. As Heatherstar continued to talk about plentiful rabbits and some fleet-footed young cats, Yellowfang heard a commotion break out at the edge of the clearing. Yowls and screeches drowned what the WindClan leader was trying to say.

  Craning her neck, Yellowfang spotted a familiar dark brown shape. Brokenpaw! He was wrestling with two young cats. From their skinny frames Yellowfang guessed they were from WindClan.

  From his place on top of the great Rock, Cedarstar leaped to his paws. His voice rang out above the turmoil. “Brokenpaw! Stop fighting at once! This is a Gathering!” Turning to Heatherstar, he dipped his head and added, “I am sorry, Heatherstar. He is a young apprentice and it’s his first time at a Gathering. I will deal with him afterward.”

  Heatherstar dipped her head. “No cat blames you, Cedarstar,” she meowed with dignity. “But be sure to remind your apprentices of the importance of keeping the truce at full-moon. I shall speak to my own apprentices, too.”

  Yellowfang’s heart sank. Brokenpaw had violated one of the most important rules of the warrior code, and in full view of the four Clan leaders. The young cats had broken apart, but Yellowfang couldn’t see what was happening now. Beside her, Runningpaw was standing on the tips of his paws, craning to see over the heads of the crowd. “What happened?” he mewed. “What was Brokenpaw thinking?”

  “I’d guess he wasn’t thinking at all,” Featherwhisker muttered.

  Cats were shifting around, whispering. Eventually Yellowfang heard Russetfur speaking to Raggedpelt. “Apparently Brokenpaw accused the WindClan apprentices of coming through the tunnel under the Thunderpath to steal prey. He jumped on them when they denied it.”

  Runningpaw had overheard Russetfur’s words too. “What will happen to the Gathering?” he gasped, his eyes wide with shock.

  It was Featherwhisker who replied. “We’ll carry on, because the moon is still clear. If StarClan
wanted us to stop, they’d send clouds to cover the moon.”

  Yellowfang glanced up—not at the moon, but at the glittering stars that surrounded it, scattered thickly across the sky. Are the warriors of StarClan watching Brokenpaw now?

  When Heatherstar had finished her interrupted speech, the four leaders sprang down from the Great Rock. The cats below relaxed and started to share news with friends in other Clans. But Cedarstar gathered the ShadowClan cats around him with a flick of his tail. “We’re leaving,” he growled.

  “What?” Blizzardwing protested. “Already?”

  Yellowfang saw Nightpelt padding up with Brokenpaw beside him; the black warrior was clearly furious, but Brokenpaw only looked sullen and defiant.

  “One of our apprentices doesn’t deserve to stay and meet others.” Cedarstar glared at Brokenpaw, then turned and led the way out of the hollow.

  Yellowfang was walking just behind Cedarstar, with Runningpaw at her side. Before they reached the top of the hollow she was shoved roughly aside, almost losing her balance. Runningpaw steadied her. When Yellowfang turned to glare at the cat who had pushed her, she saw it was Raggedpelt.

  The tabby tom had fallen in beside Cedarstar. “You didn’t have to single out Brokenpaw in front of all the Clans like that!” he challenged his leader angrily. “Or scold him like that. There were two other apprentices involved! Brokenpaw was only defending ShadowClan honor!”

  “Your son broke the rules of the truce.” Cedarstar’s anger was colder and more controlled. “I cannot let that happen.”

  Raggedpelt snorted. “Loyalty and courage mean more than rules,” he growled.

  But that kind of loyalty and courage starts battles, Yellowfang thought, with a flutter of alarm in her belly. Oh, StarClan, please let Brokenpaw learn to curb his temper.