by Erin Hunter
“So Brindleface is dead,” she murmured when Fireheart had finished. Bitterly she added, “Soon the rest of the Clan will follow her. StarClan have sent Tigerstar to destroy us. They will not help us now.”
“Perhaps not, Bluestar, but we’re not giving in,” Fireheart insisted, trying not to be panicked. “You must lead the Clan to Sunningrocks.”
Bluestar’s ears flicked. “And what good will that do? We can’t live at Sunningrocks, and even there the pack will hunt us down.”
“If my plan works, you won’t be there for long. Listen.” Fireheart told her how he was hoping to lure the dogs through the forest and drown them in the gorge.
His leader’s gaze grew vague, fixed on something Fireheart could not see. “So you want me to go to Sunningrocks like an elder,” she meowed.
Fireheart hesitated. Telling Bluestar what she should do was a lot harder than giving orders to Cloudtail. “Like a leader,” he told her. “Without you there, the Clan will panic and scatter. They need you to hold them together. Besides,” he added, “don’t forget that this is your last life. If you lost it, what would the Clan do without you?”
Bluestar hesitated. “Very well.”
“Then we should go now.”
Bluestar nodded and led the way out of the den. The bulk of the Clan—all the cats Fireheart had not chosen to come with him—were already huddled together near the entrance to the camp. As Bluestar went to join them, Fireheart flicked his tail to call Whitestorm. “Stay beside her,” he mewed softly. “Look after her.”
Whitestorm dipped his head. “You can rely on me, Fireheart.” The glance he exchanged with Fireheart showed that he understood perfectly how fragile Bluestar’s mind was. He padded at Bluestar’s shoulder as she led the way out of the camp.
Seeing the white warrior, old but still vigorous, beside her, Fireheart was struck all over again by how frail his leader looked. But her presence among them would reassure the other cats, especially the elders.
When the last of the Clan had filed out into the ravine, Fireheart turned to the warriors who remained, crouched beside the burned stalks of the nettle patch. Graystripe and Sandstorm met his gaze, their eyes filled with resolution and fear in equal measure. Fireheart was reminded of the last time he had evacuated the camp, when the fire came, and how three cats had never returned.
But he knew thoughts like that would only push him into panic. He had to be strong for the sake of his Clan. Padding over to his warriors, he meowed, “Are you ready? Then let’s go.”
CHAPTER 26
When Fireheart reached the top of the ravine he halted and turned to Fernpaw and Ashpaw. “You two wait here,” he ordered. “As soon as you see the dogs, run straight for the gorge. Sandstorm will be next in line. When you see her, climb a tree, and then when the dogs have picked up her trail and gone, head for Sunningrocks.”
He looked down at the two apprentices. Their eyes gleamed with fury, grief for their mother momentarily forgotten in their desire to avenge her death. Fireheart hoped they would remember their instructions and not panic, or even worse, try to attack the dogs by themselves. “The Clan’s relying on you,” he added. “And we’re all proud of you.”
“We won’t let you down,” Fernpaw promised.
Fireheart left them there and led the others farther into the forest. His ears were pricked for sounds of the dogs, but for now the forest seemed to be waiting under a suffocating silence, as sinister as any howling or crashing of undergrowth. The sound of the cats’ breathing and their soft pawsteps seemed unnaturally loud as they padded under the trees.
Soon Fireheart halted again. “Sandstorm, you wait here,” he meowed. “I don’t want those two apprentices to have to run too far. You’re the fastest cat in ThunderClan—you’ll need to get a good start on the dogs to give the rest of us a chance. Okay?”
Sandstorm nodded. “You can trust me, Fireheart.”
Briefly she brushed her muzzle against his. There was no time for more words, but her love for him glowed in her green eyes, and Fireheart was filled with a wave of fear for her.
Tearing himself away, he took the rest of his warriors along a line stretching all the way to the gorge, leaving each of them at regular intervals as he went: next Longtail, then Dustpelt, and then Mousefur. At last he and Graystripe were left alone on the border with RiverClan, as near as they could get to the gorge without leaving their own territory. “Right, Graystripe,” he meowed, halting. “You hide here. If all goes well, Mousefur will lead the dogs to you. When they come, head for the steepest part of the gorge. I’ll be ahead of you, waiting to take over for the final stretch.”
“That will be on RiverClan territory.” Graystripe sounded dubious. “What’s Leopardstar going to think about that?”
“With any luck, Leopardstar won’t have to know anything about it,” Fireheart replied, remembering how the RiverClan leader had threatened Graystripe with death if he set paw in her territory again. “We can’t worry about that now. Stay hidden on our side of the border, and if you see a patrol, don’t let them know you’re here.”
Graystripe nodded and flattened his belly to the ground to crawl underneath the branches of a thornbush. “Good luck,” he meowed as he disappeared.
Fireheart wished him luck in return and went on, more warily now, into RiverClan territory. He saw no RiverClan cats but he scented some fairly fresh traces, which suggested that the dawn patrol had already passed that way. At last he found a place to hide in a hollow at the foot of a rock and settled down to wait. The whole forest was silent, except for the distant roar of water in the gorge.
Fireheart couldn’t help wondering where Tigerstar was now. Safe in ShadowClan territory, he guessed, waiting for his old Clan to be torn apart. Then he could swoop in like a carrion crow and take the ThunderClan territory for his own, gloating over his perfect revenge.
Clouds still covered the sky, so Fireheart had no way to judge the passing of time, but as each heartbeat followed the last he began to worry that something had gone wrong. Why was it taking so long? Had the dogs caught one of his warriors? Fireheart pictured Sandstorm being ripped apart by those cruel jaws and worked his paws on the hard earth in front of him, extending and sheathing his claws. He had to force himself not to go back and see what had happened.
What if this was all a huge mistake? he asked himself. Had he led his Clan into even greater danger?
Then, above the noise of the river, he heard a distant barking. Rapidly it grew closer. The dark force had gained a voice at last, giving tongue as the pack bore down on the cats who had become their prey. The sound grew louder still, until it seemed to fill all the forest, and Graystripe appeared, streaking along with his belly almost flat against the ground.
Barely three fox-lengths behind him was the pack leader. Fireheart had never seen a dog like it. It was enormous, easily twice the size of any Twoleg pet. As it ran, its muscles bunched powerfully under a short black-and-brown pelt. Its jaws gaped to show a vicious set of teeth, and its tongue lolled. It barked hoarsely as it snapped at the fleeing Graystripe.
“StarClan help me!” Fireheart whispered, and sprang out of his hiding place.
He just had time to see Graystripe hurtling toward the nearest tree; then all he could do was run. The barking seemed to redouble, and he could feel the hot breath of the pack leader against his hind paws.
For the first time Fireheart wondered what he would do when he came to the gorge. He had imagined slipping aside at the last moment to let the unsuspecting dogs dash straight over the edge. Now he realized that might not work; the dogs were much, much closer than he had imagined.
Perhaps he would have to leap over himself.
If that’s what it takes to save the Clan, then that’s what I will do, Fireheart vowed grimly.
The gorge was close by. Fireheart emerged from the trees to see nothing but smooth turf between him and the edge of the cliff. Casting a hasty glance over his shoulder, he saw that he was outrunning the dog
s, and he slackened his pace a little to let them catch up. The pack streamed out of the trees behind their leader, their tongues lolling as they barked.
“Pack, pack! Kill, kill!” The words slashed at Fireheart like teeth.
Then from his other side a heavy weight barreled into him, bowling him over. He fought vainly to get up as a massive paw pinned him by the neck. A voice growled in his ear, “Going somewhere, Fireheart?”
It was Tigerstar.
CHAPTER 27
Fireheart struggled desperately to get free, lashing out with his hind paws to claw tufts of fur from his enemy’s belly. The ShadowClan leader barely moved. The reek of his scent was in Fireheart’s mouth and nostrils, and his amber eyes glared into Fireheart’s own.
“Greet StarClan for me,” he snarled.
“Only after you!” Fireheart gasped.
To his astonishment, Tigerstar released him. Lurching to his paws, Fireheart saw the ShadowClan leader double back and spring up the nearest tree. Before he had time to wonder what was going on, he heard a deafening howl and felt the ground shake under his paws. He spun around to see the pack leader looming over him, its dripping jaws wide. There was no time to run. Fireheart shut his eyes and prepared to meet StarClan.
Pain stabbed him as sharp teeth met in his scruff. His limbs flailed helplessly as the dog lifted him from the ground and shook him from side to side. He twisted in the air, struggling to claw eyes, jowls, tongue, but his thrashing paws met nothing. The forest spun about him. He was aware of more barking, and the stink of dog was everywhere.
“StarClan, help me!” Fireheart let out a yowl of terror and despair. This was not just his death, but the end of his whole Clan. His plan had failed. “StarClan, where are you?”
Suddenly a yowl sounded close by. Fireheart was flung to the ground, the breath driven out of his body. The grip on his neck loosened and was gone. Dazed, he looked up to see a blue-gray shape ramming into the side of the lead dog.
“Bluestar!” he yowled.
The force of his leader’s impact had sent the dog staggering to the very edge of the gorge. Its barking changed to a high-pitched howl of terror as its huge paws scrabbled for a grip on the turf. The loose soil crumbled away under its weight and it fell, but as it disappeared over the edge its snapping jaws closed on Bluestar’s leg, and wrenched her over as well.
Two of the other dogs, hard behind their leader, could not pull up in time. Blindly they charged over the edge of the gorge and vanished, howling, while the remaining dogs skidded to a halt, their fierce barks fading to piteous whimpers. Before Fireheart could force himself to his paws, they had backed away from the edge and fled into the forest.
Fireheart staggered to the edge of the gorge and looked over. Water foamed white beneath him. For a heartbeat he glimpsed the gaping muzzle of the pack leader struggling among the waves, before it vanished again.
“Bluestar!” Fireheart screamed. What had his leader been doing over here? He had sent her with the rest of the Clan to Sunningrocks.
Too stunned to move, Fireheart gazed down into the river. Suddenly he saw a small gray head bob to the surface, paws thrashing wildly. Bluestar was still alive! But the torrent was sweeping her downstream, and Fireheart knew that she was too frail to swim for long.
There was only one thing to do. Yowling, “Bluestar, hold on! I’m coming!” he launched himself down the steep side of the gorge and into the river.
Water clutched Fireheart like a huge paw and buffeted him from side to side. The icy cold of the torrent took his breath away. His paws worked furiously as he tried to swim, but the force of the current rolled him under. He had lost sight of Bluestar before he even entered the water; he could see nothing but the foam that bubbled all around him.
As his head broke surface he gasped for air, managing to stay afloat as the racing torrent swept him downstream. Then he spotted Bluestar again, a few fox-lengths ahead of him, her fur plastered to her head and her jaws gaping. Kicking out strongly, Fireheart closed the gap between them, and as Bluestar began to sink again he fastened his teeth in her scruff.
The extra weight dragged him down. All Fireheart’s instincts screamed at him to let Bluestar go and save his own life. But he made himself hold on, while he forced his limbs to go on working and bring his drowning leader back to the surface. He almost lost his grip on her as something slammed into them, and he caught a glimpse of a dog rolling over in the current, its eyes glazed with terror as it floundered helplessly and vanished again.
A sudden shadow fell across them and was gone as the current carried them under the Twoleg bridge and away from the looming cliffs. Fireheart could see the river bank now and he struck out toward it, but his limbs were aching with weariness. Bluestar was a deadweight, unable to help herself. Fireheart knew that he could not let go of her to gulp in more air, and his senses began to spin away into darkness as his head went under again.
Barely conscious, he made one more massive effort, thrusting at the water with his paws. But when he resurfaced he could not see the bank, and he had lost all sense of direction. His limbs stiffened with panic as he knew he was going to drown.
Suddenly Bluestar’s weight grew less. Blinking water out of his eyes, Fireheart saw another head bobbing in the water beside him, teeth firmly gripping Bluestar’s fur. He recognized the blue-gray pelt and almost forgot to swim in his shock.
It was Mistyfoot!
At the same moment he heard Stonefur’s voice from his other side. “Let go. We’ve got her now.”
Fireheart did as he was told and let Stonefur take his place. The two RiverClan cats propelled Bluestar through the water toward the bank. Without the need to support the heavy she-cat, Fireheart managed to flounder after them until he felt the river bottom beneath his paws. On flatter ground now, carried by the river out of the steep-sided gorge, he was able to splash his way to the safety of the bank on the RiverClan side.
Coughing as he gasped air into his straining lungs, Fireheart shook water from his fur and looked around to see what had become of Bluestar. Mistyfoot and Stonefur had laid the Clan leader down on her side on the pebbles. Water trickled from her parted jaws, and she did not move.
“Bluestar!” Mistyfoot exclaimed.
“Is she dead?” Fireheart asked hoarsely, staggering up to them.
“I think she—”
Stonefur was interrupted by a loud yowling. “Fireheart! Fireheart! Watch out!”
It was Graystripe’s voice. Fireheart turned to see Tigerstar racing across the Twoleg bridge with the gray warrior hard behind him. As the ShadowClan leader swerved along the bank toward Fireheart and the others, Graystripe darted in front of the massive tabby and whirled around to face him.
“Keep back!” he snarled. “Don’t touch them.”
Rage lent strength to Fireheart. His leader lay on the riverbank, her last life ebbing away; whatever she had said or done, she was still his leader, and he had never intended her to die for the sake of the Clan. And all this was because of Tigerstar!
He bounded upstream to stand beside Graystripe, and the ShadowClan leader halted a couple of fox-lengths away. Clearly he was thinking twice about taking both of them on at the same time.
From behind him Fireheart heard Mistyfoot gasp. “Fireheart! She’s alive!”
He bared his teeth at Tigerstar. “Come one step closer, and I’ll throw you in the river with the dogs,” he growled. “Graystripe, make him stay back.”
Graystripe nodded, unsheathing his claws, and Tigerstar let out a long hiss of fury and frustration.
Fireheart raced back to Bluestar and crouched down beside her. She still lay on the pebbles, though now Fireheart could see her chest rising and falling with each jagged breath. “Bluestar?” he whispered. “Bluestar, it’s Fireheart. You’re all right now. You’re safe.”
Her eyes blinked open and focused on the two RiverClan warriors. For a heartbeat she did not seem to recognize them, and then her eyes stretched wide, softening with prid
e. “You saved me,” she murmured.
“Shhh. Don’t try to talk,” Mistyfoot urged her.
Bluestar seemed not to hear. “I want to tell you something…. I want to ask you to forgive me for sending you away. Oakheart promised me Graypool would be a good mother to you.”
“She was,” Stonefur meowed tersely.
Fireheart tensed. Last time they spoke to Bluestar, the two RiverClan warriors had spat venom at her, hating her for what she had done. Would they turn on her now, defenseless as she was?
“I owe Graypool so much,” Bluestar went on. Her voice was faint and uneven. “Oakheart too, for mentoring you so well. I watched you as you grew up, and I saw how much you had to give to the Clan who adopted you.” A shudder passed through her body, and she stopped speaking for a moment. “If I had made a different choice, you would have given all your strength to ThunderClan. Forgive me,” she rasped.
Mistyfoot and Stonefur exchanged an uncertain glance.
“She suffered a lot of pain for her choice,” Fireheart couldn’t help putting in. “Please forgive her.”
For a heartbeat the two warriors still hesitated. Then Mistyfoot bent her head to lick her mother’s fur, and Fireheart felt his legs shake with relief. “We forgive you, Bluestar,” she murmured.
“We forgive you,” Stonefur echoed.
Weak as she was, Bluestar began to purr with delight. Fireheart’s throat felt tight as he watched the two RiverClan cats crouched over his leader—their mother—sharing tongues with her for the first time.
A furious hiss from Graystripe made him turn his head to see that Tigerstar had taken a step forward. The massive tabby’s eyes were wide with astonishment. Fireheart knew that until now Tigerstar had not known who was the mother of the kits that ThunderClan had given away.