Into the Wild (19 page)

“How long did you say Ravenpaw was missing on the journey to Mothermouth?” asked Darkstripe.

“Long enough to have traveled to ShadowClan's camp and back,” came the deputy's menacing answer.

The fur on Firepaw's tail bristled angrily.
That's impossible!
he thought.
He was with us the whole time!

Longtail's voice sounded now, high-pitched with excitement: “He must have told them that ThunderClan's leader and the strongest warrior had left the camp. Why else would they attack when they did?”

“We are the last Clan to stand against ShadowClan. We must remain strong,” purred Tigerclaw. His tone had become
velvety soft now. He waited in silence for a response.

It was Darkstripe who answered, eagerly, as if he were still Tigerclaw's apprentice, giving the correct answer to a question on hunting techniques. His words made Firepaw breathless with fear. “And the Clan would be better off without a traitor like Ravenpaw.”

“I have to say I agree with you, Darkstripe,” murmured Tigerclaw, his voice heavy with emotion. “Even though he's my own apprentice . . .” He trailed off as if he were too upset to say any more.

Firepaw had heard enough. Forgetting all about the wild garlic, he turned and crept as silently and as quickly as he could back toward the camp.

He decided not to tell Ravenpaw what he had heard. He would be terrified. Firepaw's mind raced. What could he do? Tigerclaw was the Clan deputy, a great warrior, and popular with all of the other cats. No one was going to listen to any accusations made by an apprentice. But Ravenpaw was in terrible danger. Firepaw shook himself, trying to clear his head. There was only one thing to do—he must tell what he had heard to Bluestar, and somehow convince her that he was telling the truth!

Graypaw and Ravenpaw were still patching
the hole when Firepaw reached them. They had left a gap just wide enough for him to squeeze back through.

“No luck with the garlic,” Firepaw panted as he slipped in. “Darkstripe's prowling around out there.”

“Never mind,” mewed Graypaw. “We can get some tomorrow.”

“I'll go and get you some poppy from Spottedleaf,” Firepaw offered. He was worried by the dull look in his friend's eyes, and the way his muscles seemed stiff with pain.

“No, don't worry,” mewed Graypaw. “I'll be fine.”

“It's no trouble,” Firepaw insisted, and before Graypaw could argue, he bounded off toward Spottedleaf's den.

She was pacing her small clearing, her eyes clouded with unhappiness.

“Are you okay?” Firepaw asked.

“The spirits of StarClan are restless. I think they are trying to tell me something,” she replied, flicking her tail uneasily. “What can I do for you?”

“I think Graypaw could do with some poppy seeds for his
leg,” Firepaw explained. “His rat bites are still hurting him.”

“The pain of losing Lionheart will make his injuries feel worse. But he'll mend in time; don't worry. In the meantime, you're right, poppy seeds will help.” Spottedleaf went into her den and brought out a dried poppy head. She placed it carefully on the ground. “Just shake out one or two and give them to him,” she meowed.

“Thanks,” Firepaw mewed. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Go and see to your friend,” answered Spottedleaf, avoiding his gaze.

Firepaw picked up the poppy head between his teeth and began to walk away.

“Wait,” Spottedleaf hissed suddenly.

Firepaw spun around expectantly and met her tawny gaze. Her eyes burned back at him.

“Firepaw,” she hissed. “StarClan spoke to me moons ago, before you joined the Clan. I sense they want me to tell you this now. They said only fire can save our Clan.”

Firepaw stared at Spottedleaf, mystified.

The strange passion faded from her eyes. “Take care, Firepaw,” she meowed in her normal voice, and turned away.

“See you,” Firepaw replied uncertainly. He padded back through the fern tunnel. Her strange words were echoing in his mind, but he could not make sense of them. Why had she shared them with him? Surely fire was an enemy to all who lived in the forest. He shook his head in frustration, and bounded over to the apprentices' den.

“Graypaw!” Firepaw hissed into the ear of his sleeping friend. They'd been allowed to rest all morning, after working on repairs for most of the night. Tigerclaw had ordered them to be ready to begin training at sunhigh. The strong yellow light filtering through to the den told Firepaw it was already near that now.

He'd had a restless night. Dreams swirled through his mind each time he fell asleep, confusing and indistinct, but full of darkness and menace.

“Graypaw!” Firepaw hissed again. But his friend did not stir. He'd eaten two of the poppy seeds before he'd slept, and now he was in a deep slumber.

“Are you awake, Firepaw?” Ravenpaw mewed from his nest.

Firepaw spat silently under his breath. He had wanted to talk to Graypaw before Ravenpaw awoke.

“Yes!” he replied.

Ravenpaw sat up in his bed of moss and heather and began to wash with quick flicks of his tongue. “Are you going to wake him?” he asked, nodding toward Graypaw.

A deep voice growled outside their den. “I hope so! Training is about to start.”

Firepaw and Ravenpaw jumped.

“Graypaw, wake up!” Firepaw poked his friend with one paw. “Tigerclaw is waiting!”

Graypaw lifted his head. His eyes were still heavy with sleep.

“Are you ready yet?” called Tigerclaw.

Firepaw and Ravenpaw crept out of the den, blinking as
they emerged into the sunlight.

The deputy was sitting beside the tree stump. “Is the other one coming?” he asked.

“Yes,” Firepaw replied, feeling defensive on behalf of his friend. “He's only just woken up.”

“Training will do him good,” growled Tigerclaw. “He's grieved for long enough.”

Firepaw held the menacing amber gaze for a few moments. Warrior and apprentice, for a heartbeat their eyes were locked as enemies.

Graypaw scrambled sleepily out of the den.

“Bluestar will be ready for you in a moment, Firepaw,” announced Tigerclaw. The words distracted Firepaw from his anger. His first training session with Bluestar! Excitement surged through him. He had expected his wounded mentor to be resting still.

“Graypaw,” continued Tigerclaw, “you can join my training session. Do you think you're up to it, Ravenpaw?” He glowered at his apprentice. “After all, you got some pretty nasty nettle stings while the rest of us were fighting those rats.”

Ravenpaw looked at the ground. “I'm fine,” he mewed.

Graypaw and Ravenpaw followed the deputy out of the camp entrance. Ravenpaw's head hung low as he disappeared through the gorse tunnel.

Firepaw sat and waited for Bluestar. She did not keep him long. The gray queen emerged from her den and padded across the clearing. Her fur was still matted in places where her wounds were fresh, but she betrayed no pain in her confident
stride. “Come,” she called to him.

Firepaw noticed with surprise that she was alone. Darkstripe and Longtail were nowhere to be seen. A thought occurred to him and suddenly his excitement was tinged with anxiety—here was an opportunity to tell Bluestar what he had overheard last night.

He caught up with her as she headed for the gorse tunnel and fell in step behind her. “Will your guards be joining us?” he asked hesitantly.

Bluestar replied without looking back, “I've ordered Darkstripe and Longtail to help with the camp repairs. Securing ThunderClan's base is our first priority.”

Firepaw's heartbeat quickened. He would tell her about Ravenpaw as soon as they left camp.

The two cats followed the trail to the training hollow. The path was strewn with freshly fallen golden leaves that rustled beneath their paws. Firepaw's mind raced as he searched for suitable words. What should he tell his leader? That Tigerclaw was plotting to get rid of his apprentice? And what would he say when Bluestar asked him why? Could he bring himself to say out loud that he suspected Tigerclaw had killed Redtail? Even though he had no evidence beyond Ravenpaw's excited storytelling at the Gathering?

By the time they reached the sandy hollow, Firepaw had still not spoken. The hollow was empty.

“I asked Tigerclaw to hold his training session in another part of the forest today,” Bluestar explained as she padded into the center of the hollow. “I want to concentrate on your
fighting skills, and I want
you
to concentrate on them too—which means no distractions.”

I must tell her now
, thought Firepaw.
She needs to know about the danger Ravenpaw is in.
His paws prickled with anxiety.
I won't have another chance like this
. . . . 

Sudden movement flashed in the corner of his eye. A swish of gray whirled past his nose, and Firepaw fell forward as his forepaws were knocked lightly from underneath him. He staggered, regained his balance, and spun around to see Bluestar sitting calmly beside him. “Do I have your attention now?” she growled.

“Yes, Bluestar. Sorry!” he replied hastily, looking into her blue eyes.

“That's better. Firepaw, you have been with us for many moons now. I have watched you fight. With the rats you were quick; with the ShadowClan warriors you were fierce. You outwitted Graypaw on that very first day we met, and you defeated Yellowfang with your cleverness too.” She paused, then lowered her voice to an intense hiss. “But one day you will meet an opponent who is all of these things as well—quick and fierce and clever. It's my duty to prepare you for that day.”

Firepaw nodded, completely caught up in her words. His senses were fully alert. All thoughts of Ravenpaw and Tigerclaw had disappeared, and the musty odors and tiny noises of the forest rushed in upon him.

“Let's see how you fight,” Bluestar ordered. “Attack me.”

Firepaw looked at her, sizing her up and wondering the best way to begin. Bluestar was standing less than three
rabbit-lengths away. She was twice his size, so it would be a waste of effort to begin with the usual paw swipes and wrestling. But if he could leap straight onto her back with a powerful enough jump, he might be able to unbalance her. She hadn't taken her piercing blue eyes off him for an instant. Firepaw stared back and leaped.

He had aimed to land squarely on her shoulders, but Bluestar was ready for him. She dropped swiftly into a crouch. As Firepaw hit her, she rolled onto her back. Instead of landing on her shoulders he found himself crashing down toward her upturned belly. She caught him with all four paws and flung him easily away from her. Firepaw felt he had been bundled away like a bothersome kit. He hit the dusty ground hard and lay winded for a moment before he scrambled to his feet.

“Interesting strategy, but your eyes betrayed where you were aiming,” growled Bluestar as she stood up and shook off the dust from her thick coat. “Now, try again.”

This time Firepaw looked at her shoulders but aimed for her paws. When Bluestar dropped to the ground he would hit her as she crouched. Firepaw felt a rush of satisfaction as he leaped, but it turned to confusion as Bluestar unexpectedly sprang into the air and let him crash into the ground where she had stood just a heartbeat before. She timed it perfectly—as he landed, she thundered down on top of him, squashing the breath out of him.

“Now try something I don't expect,” she hissed into his ear, climbing off him and backing away with a challenging gleam in her eyes.

Firepaw scrambled up, panting, and shook himself crossly. Even Yellowfang had not been so tricky. He hissed and leaped again. This time, as he flew at Bluestar, he stretched out his forepaws. She reared up on her hind legs and used her forepaws to twist him away. As he felt himself slipping, Firepaw scrabbled with his hind paws in the sand, but it was too late and he flopped heavily onto his side.

“Firepaw,” Bluestar meowed calmly, as once more he struggled to his paws, “you're strong and quick, but you must learn to keep control of your speed and body weight so that it's not so easy for me to unbalance you. Try again.”

Firepaw backed away, hot, dusty, and out of breath. Frustration raged through him. He was determined to get the better of his mentor this time. Slowly he crouched and began to creep toward Bluestar. She mirrored his crouch and hissed into his face as he approached. He raised a paw and swiped at her left ear. She ducked to avoid his strike and reared up, towering over him. Quickly Firepaw rolled onto his back, slithered beneath her body, and in one fast movement kicked both his back legs upward into her belly. Bluestar was flung backward and fell onto the sandy earth with a loud grunt.

Firepaw flipped himself over and leaped to his paws. He felt jubilant. Then he saw Bluestar lying in the dirt, and for the first time remembered her wounds. Had he reopened them? He dashed to her side and stared down at her. To his relief her eyes glinted proudly back at him.

“That was much better,” she puffed. She stood and shook herself. “Now it's my turn.”

She sprang at him, knocking him to the ground, then retreated and let him pick himself up before leaping again. Firepaw braced himself, but she bowled him over easily again.

“Look at my size, Firepaw! Don't try to stand up against my attack. Use your wits. If you are fast enough to avoid me, then avoid me!”

Firepaw scrabbled to his feet again, preparing for her attack. This time he didn't dig his paws into the soft ground, but stood lightly, keeping his weight on his toes. As Bluestar flew toward him, he hopped neatly out of her path, reared up onto his hind legs, and, with his forepaws, pushed her flying body onward past him.