A Dangerous Path (12 page)

Fireheart padded swiftly out of the
camp, hoping no other cats would see him and ask him where he was going. The warrior code said that a Clan leader's orders should be obeyed without question. Until now, Fireheart had always accepted that. He had never imagined that he would ever disobey Bluestar, and yet the time had come when he must challenge her orders or watch the destruction of his Clan. The only way he could see of avoiding the battle was for Tallstar and Bluestar to meet together and talk about the evidence of prey-theft in both their territories. Once Bluestar understood that WindClan was suffering in just the same way as ThunderClan, Fireheart was sure she would call off the attack.

He did not know what Bluestar would do to him afterward, if she realized that he had gone to see Tallstar without her permission. He just hoped she would eventually understand it was for the good of her Clan.

At the entrance to the gorse tunnel Fireheart took a last look around at the camp. For a moment he watched Brightpaw, practicing the hunting crouch all by herself outside the apprentice's den. She crept lightly up on a dead leaf and
pounced on it, trapping it with outstretched paws.

“Well done!” Fireheart called.

Brightpaw looked up, her eyes glowing. “Thank you, Fireheart!”

Fireheart nodded to her, then turned and headed through the gorse tunnel. The short meeting had strengthened his resolve, for the eager young apprentice represented all that was important within the Clan. Fireheart knew that he could not let that be destroyed.

By sunhigh, Fireheart was approaching the stream that lay on the route to Fourtrees. He stopped for a moment to rest. In his confusion and anxiety he had not taken time to eat before he left the camp, and a rustle in the undergrowth reminded him of how hungry he was. He dropped into the hunter's crouch, only to realize a couple of heartbeats later that the sounds were not made by prey. He caught a glimpse of a familiar dark pelt, and breathed in the scent of ThunderClan cats.

Puzzled, Fireheart pressed himself to the ground behind a clump of fern. He hadn't ordered a patrol in this direction, so why were his Clan cats here now? Then the undergrowth parted and Darkstripe emerged, mewing sharply over his shoulder, “Follow me. Try to keep up, can't you?”

Two small shapes appeared out of the bracken. Fireheart's eyes widened in surprise as he recognized Goldenflower's two kits. Bramblekit bounced into the open, batting at a fallen leaf, while Tawnykit followed more slowly.

“I'm tired. My paws ache,” the little tabby kit complained.

“What, a strong kit like you?” Darkstripe meowed. “Don't be silly. It's not far now.”

What isn't far
? Fireheart wondered in alarm.
What are you doing out here, and where are you taking these kits
? He expected to see Goldenflower with them—surely her kits had never been this far from the nursery before?—but she did not appear.

Bramblekit scampered over to his sister and gave her a nudge. “Come on—it'll be worth it!” he urged.

Both kits hurried after Darkstripe to a shallow place where they crossed the stream, squealing in fear and excitement as the water swirled around their paws. On the far side of the stream, Darkstripe veered away from the route that led to Fourtrees, and headed instead along a much narrower path that twisted away under the trees. A burst of outrage shook Fireheart. He knew exactly where that path led. Darkstripe was taking the kits toward the border with ShadowClan.

Fireheart had to wait for them to climb the slope beyond the stream before he dared to emerge from the ferns and follow. By the time he caught up they were approaching the border. The strong reek of ShadowClan reached Fireheart, and he saw the kits stop and start sniffing the air.

“Yuck, what's that?” Tawnykit squealed.

“Is it a fox?” asked Bramblekit.

“No, it's ShadowClan scent,” Darkstripe replied. “Come on, we're nearly there.” He led the kits across the border, Tawnykit complaining that she was getting the horrid scent all over her paws.

Growing angrier still, Fireheart slid into the shelter of a
hawthorn bush just on the ThunderClan side, where he could watch without being seen.

Close by, Darkstripe had come to a halt. The kits flopped down on the grass, exhausted, only to spring to their paws again a moment later when a clump of bracken rustled and another cat stepped into the open.

The newcomer was Tigerstar. Fireheart froze, though he was hardly surprised. He had guessed that Darkstripe had been hoping to curry favor with Tigerstar by bringing his kits to see him, but the ShadowClan leader's prompt appearance suggested that this meeting had been arranged all along.

Fireheart wondered if Goldenflower knew about this. She was not here with her kits, so perhaps she didn't even know that Darkstripe had taken them away. She might just think they had gone missing.
She must be frantic,
Fireheart thought. He tensed his muscles, ready to leap out and confront Darkstripe, but he stayed in his hiding place and made himself concentrate on what was happening in front of him.

Tigerstar padded forward, the muscles rippling under his dark tabby pelt, until he stood in front of his two kits. For a moment he inspected them, and then bent his head to touch noses, first with Bramblekit and then with Tawnykit. Even though they could never have seen such a massive cat before, both kits stood bravely before him and met his gaze without flinching.

“Do you know who I am?” meowed Tigerstar.

“Darkstripe said he would take us to meet our father,” replied Bramblekit.

“Are you our father?” Tawnykit added. “You smell a bit like us.”

Tigerstar nodded. “I am.”

The kits exchanged a wondering glance as Darkstripe mewed, “This is Tigerstar, the leader of ShadowClan.”

Their eyes grew huge, and Bramblekit breathed, “Wow! You're really a Clan leader?”

When Tigerstar dipped his head in agreement, Tawnykit mewed excitedly, “Why can't we come and live with you in your Clan? You must have a really nice den.”

Tigerstar shook his head. “Your place is with your mother for now,” he told them. “But that doesn't mean I'm not proud of you. They seem fine, strong kits,” he meowed to Darkstripe. “When will they be apprenticed?”

“In a moon or so,” Darkstripe replied. “It's a pity I have an apprentice already, or I could mentor one of them myself.”

Fireheart's claws dug into the ground as a jolt of anger shot through him.
Bluestar and I decide who the mentors will be, not you, Darkstripe!
He almost hissed the words aloud.
And you're the last cat we would choose,
he added silently.

Tigerstar turned his gaze back to his kits. “Can you hunt?” he asked them. “Can you fight? Do you want to be good warriors?”

Both the kits nodded vigorously. “I'm going to be the best warrior in the Clan!” Bramblekit boasted.

Tawnykit refused to be outdone. “And I'll be the best hunter!”

“Good, good.” Tigerstar gave each kit a quick lick on the head.

Fireheart couldn't help remembering Graystripe, and how his friend had left the Clan of his birth so that he could stay with the kits he loved. Was it possible that Tigerstar was suffering just as much at being parted from Bramblekit and Tawnykit?

Then Fireheart's blood ran cold as Bramblekit asked, “Please, Tigerstar, why are you the leader of ShadowClan when our mother is a ThunderClan cat?”

“They don't know?” Tigerstar asked Darkstripe. The warrior shook his head. “Well, then,” Tigerstar meowed, turning back to the kits, “That's a long story. Sit down and I'll tell you.”

Fireheart realized this was the moment when he had to interrupt. The last thing he wanted was for Tigerstar to tell the kits a biased account of how he came to leave ThunderClan. One thing was certain: Tigerstar would never admit that he had been a murderer and a traitor.

Rising to his paws, Fireheart stepped out of the shelter of the hawthorn bush. “Good day, Tigerstar,” he meowed. “You're a long way from your camp. And so are you, Darkstripe.” His tone sharpened. “What are you doing here with these kits?”

As he padded up to join them, he had the satisfaction of realizing that both Tigerstar and Darkstripe were dumb-founded by his appearance. For a heartbeat they both gaped at him, while the kits bounced across the grass to meet him.

“This is our father!” Tawnykit announced excitedly. “We came all the way from camp to see him.”

“Why did no cat tell us he was the leader of a Clan?” Bramblekit piped up.

Fireheart did not want to answer that question. Instead he confronted Darkstripe with his eyes narrowed. “Well?”

“How did you know we were here?” Darkstripe blustered.

“I saw you crossing the stream. You were making enough racket to wake the whole forest.”

“Fireheart.” Tigerstar dipped his head, the courteous greeting of a leader to the deputy of another Clan. There was no hostility in his tone. “Blame me, not Darkstripe. I wanted to see my kits. You wouldn't deny me that, surely?”

“That's all very well,” Fireheart replied in confusion. “But Darkstripe shouldn't have taken them without permission. It's dangerous to let kits wander so far away from their camp.”
Especially with that dog loose in the forest,
he added to himself.

“They're not wandering—they're with me,” Darkstripe pointed out.

“What if a hawk attacked? There's still little cover in some parts of the forest. Have you forgotten Snowkit?” One of the kits let out a whimper and Fireheart stopped; he didn't want to frighten them. “Take them back to camp, Darkstripe. Now.”

Darkstripe exchanged a glance with Tigerstar and shrugged. To the kits, he meowed, “Come on. Fireheart has spoken, and we must obey.”

The two kits backed away from their father and followed Darkstripe as he set off back to the camp.

“Say good-bye to your father before you go,” Fireheart
meowed, forcing himself to speak in a friendly tone. “You'll see him again when you're apprentices and can go to Gatherings.”

Both kits turned to mew good-bye.

“Good-bye,” Tigerstar replied. “Work hard, and I shall be proud of you.”

He and Fireheart stood side by side as Darkstripe led the kits back down the slope and across the stream. When they had disappeared into the undergrowth, Tigerstar meowed, “Take care of those kits, Fireheart. I'll be keeping an eye on them.”

Fireheart's heart was pounding. When he had exposed the former deputy's treachery, Tigerstar had threatened to kill him. Now they were alone once more, with no help nearby for Fireheart if the ShadowClan leader attacked. Fireheart's muscles tensed, but Tigerstar made no move toward him.

“I'll see they're looked after,” Fireheart meowed at last. “I'm sure they will be loyal to their Clan. ThunderClan takes care of all its kits.”

“Really?” Tigerstar narrowed his amber eyes. “I'm glad to hear it.”

Tigerstar knew about the two kits who had been taken to Graypool, Fireheart remembered with a jolt. He waited for the ShadowClan leader to challenge him about them. But Tigerstar did not question him, though his knowing expression chilled Fireheart. It was as though he were well aware that Fireheart could tell him more.

Instead Tigerstar dipped his head again and mewed, “We
shall meet at the next Gathering. I must return to my Clan now.” Then he turned and padded away.

Fireheart made sure the ShadowClan leader had really gone before he turned away too, following the border toward Fourtrees. Much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't see that Darkstripe had done any real harm by taking the kits out of the nursery. Fireheart would have had to tell them eventually that their father was the leader of ShadowClan. And Tigerstar himself had behaved with more restraint than Fireheart would have believed possible.

Firmly he put the episode out of his mind. Time was running out. Before sunset, Fireheart knew, he must speak with Tallstar and find another way to solve the dispute over the stolen prey.

Fireheart darted from one clump of
gorse to the next as he crossed the moor toward the WindClan camp. He ran with his belly brushing the turf, trying to stay out of sight and longing for the thick undergrowth of his own territory. The last time he had visited the camp, when ThunderClan helped WindClan in a battle against the other two Clans, there had been no need to hide. Now he dared not show himself until he reached Tallstar, or at least met with one of the cats he could call his friends—if any of them were still friendly, after the recent disastrous Gathering. WindClan patrols had attacked him on their territory before; they would be even more hostile now.

The scent of WindClan was all around him, but so far he hadn't seen any cats. The sun had nearly finished crossing the sky. Fireheart tried not to think about that. He came close to panic when he remembered how little time was left before Bluestar would launch her attack.

He was crossing one of the shallow moorland streams, bounding from rock to rock, when a stronger scent of WindClan cats flooded over him, along with the scent of rabbit.
Fireheart's belly growled in complaint, but he had to ignore it. There was no way he could take WindClan's prey now—and it smelled as if there was a hunting patrol not far behind anyway. Diving into a clump of bracken at the water's edge, he peered out cautiously to spot the source of the scent.

Three cats were making their way upstream toward him. At the front of the patrol was his old friend Onewhisker, and Fireheart's heart lifted. Gorsepaw was with his mentor; they were both carrying rabbits. But to Fireheart's dismay, the third cat was Mudclaw, the dark, mottled warrior who had stopped Bluestar when she tried to cross WindClan territory to get to Highstones. This cat would never allow Fireheart to bring his message to Tallstar.

But it seemed that luck—or the favor of StarClan—was on Fireheart's side. With their jaws full of prey, the WindClan cats were unable to pick up his ThunderClan scent, and they passed within a couple of tail-lengths of him. Then Gorsepaw, who was struggling with a rabbit almost as big as he was, stopped to adjust his grip on it and fell behind the others.

Fireheart spotted his chance. “Gorsepaw!”

The young cat raised his head, ears pricked.

“Over here, in the bracken.”

Gorsepaw turned, and his eyes stretched wide when he saw Fireheart poking his head out from the rusty fronds. His mouth opened, but Fireheart urgently signaled to him to keep silent.

“Listen, Gorsepaw,” he mewed. “I want you to tell Onewhisker I'm here, but don't let Mudclaw know, okay?”
The apprentice hesitated, looking troubled, and Fireheart added urgently, “I have to talk to him. It's important for both our Clans. You've
got
to trust me.”

The desperation in his tone reached Gorsepaw, who paused a moment longer and then gave a quick nod. “All right, Fireheart. Wait here.”

He picked up his rabbit again and hurried to catch up to the two warriors. Fireheart crept deeper into the bracken and crouched there, waiting. Before long he heard another cat approach his hiding place and murmur, “Fireheart? Is that you?”

To his relief, Fireheart recognized Onewhisker's voice. He peered warily out of the shelter of the bracken, and straightened up when he saw that his friend was alone.

“Thank StarClan!” he exclaimed. “I thought you weren't coming.”

“This had better be good, Fireheart,” Onewhisker meowed. He gave Fireheart a hard stare, with no trace of his usual friendliness. “It took me a while to get rid of Mudclaw. If he knew you were on our territory, you'd be crowfood, and you know it.” He padded up to Fireheart. “I'm sticking my neck out for you,” he growled. “I hope it's worth it.”

“It is, I promise. I've come to tell you something. I've got to speak to Tallstar. It's important,” he added, as Onewhisker went on staring at him.

For a few heartbeats he was afraid that his friend was going to refuse, or even attack him and drive him off WindClan territory.

Then Onewhisker spoke, and to Fireheart's relief he
sounded less hostile, as if he were beginning to realize the urgency of Fireheart's request. “What's it all about? Tallstar will have my fur off if I take a ThunderClan cat into camp without a very good reason.”

“I can't tell you, Onewhisker. I can't tell any cat except Tallstar. But believe me, it's for the good of both our Clans.”

Once again Onewhisker hesitated. “I wouldn't do this for any cat but you, Fireheart,” he meowed at last. Spinning around, he beckoned with his tail and bounded off across the moor.

Fireheart sprang after him. Onewhisker halted at the top of the slope, looking down into the WindClan camp. The rays of the dying sun cast long shadows over the gorse bushes that lined the sides of the hollow. As Fireheart and Onewhisker stood there, a patrol slipped past them. Fireheart was conscious of their stares, where curiosity mingled with antagonism.

“Come on,” meowed Onewhisker. He led the way through the tough stems of gorse until they came to a sandy clearing in the middle of the bushes.

As he emerged through a narrow gap in the thorns, Fireheart saw Tallstar crouched at one side of the clearing near a pile of fresh-kill. More WindClan warriors clustered around him. It was the Clan deputy, Deadfoot, who looked up first and then nudged his leader, mewing something rapidly into his ear.

Tallstar rose and padded across the clearing to where Fireheart and Onewhisker waited. Deadfoot hovered at his
shoulder, and other cats followed close behind. Fireheart recognized Barkface, the WindClan medicine cat, and Mudclaw, his lips drawn back in a snarl.

“Well, Onewhisker.” Tallstar's voice was level, giving nothing away. “Why have you brought Fireheart here?”

Onewhisker dipped his head. “He says he has to talk to you.”

“And that means he can just stroll into our camp?” Mudclaw spat. “He's from an enemy Clan!”

Tallstar waved his tail at Mudclaw, a sign for silence, while his eyes looked deep into Fireheart's. “I'm here,” he mewed simply. “Talk.”

Fireheart glanced around him. The crowd was growing larger, as more WindClan cats heard about the intruder in their midst and came out to see what was going on. “What I have to say is not for all ears, Tallstar,” he stammered.

For a heartbeat he thought he heard a faint growl in Tallstar's throat, but then the WindClan leader nodded slowly. “Very well. We will go to my den. Deadfoot, you come with us—and you, Onewhisker.” Turning, he stalked toward the rock at the far end of the clearing, his long tail held high, while the two warriors herded Fireheart after him.

The WindClan leader's den was sheltered under a deep overhang in the rock, on the side away from the main camp. Tallstar entered and made himself comfortable in a nest of heather, facing Fireheart. “Well?” he meowed.

Shadows were gathering in the den, and Fireheart could feel rather than see the shapes of the cats who guarded him.
Tension crackled between them, as if they were waiting for the tiniest excuse to attack him. During his journey across the moor he had thought hard about what he would say, but he still didn't know whether he would manage to convince Tallstar that there was a way to avoid Bluestar's attack.

“You know that Bluestar is unhappy about the loss of prey,” Fireheart began.

Instantly the fur on the WindClan leader's shoulders began to bristle. “WindClan did
not
steal prey from ThunderClan!” he snapped.

“We've found scattered remains too,” Deadfoot asserted, limping forward and thrusting his muzzle close to Fireheart's. “Are you sure
ThunderClan
haven't been stealing prey from
us?”

Fireheart forced himself not to flinch. “No!” he protested. “I don't believe any cats have stolen prey.”

“What happened to it, then?” Onewhisker asked.

“I think there's a dog living in the forest. We've smelled it, and found its dung.”

“A dog!” Onewhisker echoed. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “What, loose from its Twolegs?”

“I'm certain of it,” Fireheart meowed.

“Could be…” mewed Tallstar. To Fireheart's relief, the fur on his shoulders was lying flat again. “We've certainly scented dog in our territory recently, but then, they're always up here with their Twolegs.” Sounding more confident, he went on: “Yes, it could be a dog killing the rabbits. I'll see that our patrols keep a lookout.”

“But you didn't come all this way to tell us that,” Deadfoot
meowed. “So what's on your mind, Fireheart?”

Fireheart took a deep breath. He didn't want to betray Bluestar by telling Tallstar of her plans to attack—but he wanted to suggest to the WindClan leader that future battle could be avoided if he would just talk to Bluestar about the prey theft.

“I can't convince Bluestar about the dog,” he explained. “She feels threatened by WindClan, and sooner or later this will all end in battle unless we can do something.” He could not tell the WindClan warriors how much sooner the battle would take place if he failed now. “Cats will be injured—killed, even—for nothing.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?” Tallstar asked testily. “She's your leader, Fireheart. This is your problem.”

Fireheart dared to take a couple of steps toward the WindClan leader. “I've come to ask you to hold a meeting with Bluestar. If you could discuss things in private, you might be able to make peace.”

“Bluestar wants a meeting?” It was Deadfoot who spoke, sounding disbelieving. “Last time we saw her, she looked as if she would like to claw our throats out.”

“This isn't Bluestar's idea—it's mine,” Fireheart confessed.

All three WindClan cats stared at him. Finally it was Onewhisker who broke the silence. “Does that mean you're going behind your leader's back?”

“It's for the good of both our Clans,” he insisted.

He half expected to be chased out of the camp, but to his relief Tallstar was looking thoughtful. “I'd certainly
rather talk than fight,” the leader meowed, “but how are we going to arrange it? How willing to listen will she be if she knows that you have talked to us first, without her knowledge?” Not waiting for Fireheart to reply, he went on: “Perhaps it would be best if I sent a messenger to ask her to meet me at Fourtrees—but can you guarantee the safety of a WindClan cat on ThunderClan territory?”

Fireheart was silent, which was answer in itself.

Tallstar shrugged. “I'm sorry, Fireheart. I won't risk one of my warriors. If Bluestar decides that she's willing to talk, she knows where to find us. Onewhisker, you'd better take Fireheart back to Fourtrees. “

“Wait!” Fireheart protested. An idea had just slid into his mind—or perhaps StarClan had sent it to him. “I know what you can do.”

Tallstar's eyes gleamed in the gathering darkness. “What?”

“Do you know the cat Ravenpaw? He's a loner who lives on a farm on the edge of your territory, near Highstones. He sheltered us on the journey to bring you home—remember?”

“I know him,” meowed Onewhisker. “He's a decent cat, even if he's not a warrior. What about him?”

Fireheart turned to him eagerly. “He could take the message for you. And Bluestar has given him permission to enter ThunderClan territory—as he used to be a ThunderClan cat.”

Tallstar shifted in his nest of heather. “That sounds like it might work. What do you think, Deadfoot?”

A reluctant rumble of agreement came from the deputy.

“Then go!” Fireheart urged Onewhisker, realizing once
again how quickly time was running out. “Go now. Tell him to ask Bluestar to meet Tallstar at dawn, at Fourtrees.” There was barely enough time for Onewhisker to find Ravenpaw, and for Ravenpaw to carry the message all the way to the ThunderClan camp before Bluestar would be leaving to launch her attack. Fireheart sent a silent prayer to StarClan that Onewhisker would be able to find Ravenpaw easily on the Twoleg farm.

Onewhisker glanced at his leader, who nodded. At once the brown tabby warrior turned around and disappeared into the darkness outside the den.

Tallstar gazed at Fireheart with narrowed eyes. “Why do I think there's something you're not telling me?” he mewed. To Fireheart's relief, he did not press for more answers. “It's time for you to go,” he continued. “Deadfoot, escort him off our territory. And Fireheart—I'll be at Fourtrees at dawn, but that's all I can do. If Bluestar wants peace, she must be there.”

“Fourtrees at dawn,” Fireheart repeated, and followed the deputy out.

 

Fireheart made good time back to Fourtrees and onto his own territory. He had not eaten since before the Gathering on the previous night; his belly ached with hunger, and he was beginning to feel shaky on his paws, so he forced himself to stop and hunt.

He paused to listen when he reached the stream, and his ears caught the sound of a vole scuffling among the reeds at the water's edge. Lifting his head to taste the air, Fireheart
pinpointed the creature more by scent than sight. He pounced, and his claws sank into his prey. Gulping it down, he felt strength flow back into him, and he headed for his own camp with renewed speed. The moon had risen above the trees by the time he slipped down the ravine, reminding Fireheart that he had until moonset to choose warriors for Bluestar's planned attack. His optimism was returning. Tallstar had agreed to talk; surely Bluestar would realize that war with WindClan was unnecessary.