Firestar's Quest (15 page)

Sandstorm gazed up at him and bared her teeth in a hiss that was drowned by the thunder of the water. “Stay where you are,” she called back. “I can manage.”

Firestar flicked his tail irritably. Why did Sandstorm always have to prove that she could cope on her own? “Don't be mouse-brained. You can't—”

“I said I can manage!” Sandstorm interrupted. “It's no good putting us both in danger. One of us has to survive to find SkyClan.”

Before Firestar could respond, his mate launched herself upward, snagging her claws in a clump of moss above her head. As the moss started to give way, she scrabbled with her hind paws until she reached a deep crack in the rock. From there she managed to spring across to where Firestar stood waiting, his heart pounding with alarm.

“See?” Sandstorm shook herself, scattering drops of water from her pelt. “I told you I'd be fine.”

Firestar pressed his muzzle against hers and tried to stop his legs from trembling. Then he began to climb again. His breath came fast and shallow, his pelt bristling with tension by the time he hauled himself up over the cliff edge and collapsed onto level ground. A heartbeat later Sandstorm joined him and flopped down by his side. He felt her warm breath on his ear.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

The sun was close to setting; the river reflected the red sky, barred with the long shadows of trees that lay across it. Firestar and Sandstorm padded on upstream; the river grew narrower still, and the banks rose until they were traveling through a sandy gorge, close to the edge of the water. It was smaller than the gorge at the edge of WindClan territory, but the sides were just as steep, and although there was still light in the sky they were soon walking through shadow.

“We'd better find somewhere to spend the night,”
Sandstorm suggested. “If there are any signs of SkyClan here, we could miss them in the dark.”

As much as Firestar wanted to keep going, he knew that what she said was sensible. They found a small cave in the side of the gorge, sheltered by a stunted gorse bush, and crawled into it. The sandy floor was more comfortable than Firestar expected, and it was not long before he slept with Sandstorm's sweet scent all around him.

Daylight filtering through the spiky gorse woke him. Alarm stabbed him when he saw that Sandstorm was not there. He pushed his way past the thorny branches and emerged beside the river, blinking in the bright sunlight and shaking seeds from his pelt. To his relief, Sandstorm was trotting toward him.

“I thought I'd hunt,” she mewed as she came up to him, an annoyed look in her eyes. “But I haven't found any prey. There's hardly anywhere up here for them to live.”

“Don't worry. We'll carry on and hunt on the way. There's bound to be
something
.”

Sandstorm's only response was a sniff. Firestar knew how proud she was of her hunting skills; it was unusual for her not to bring back any prey at all.

In full daylight he could see that their surroundings were very different from the lush territory below the waterfall. The sides of the gorge had turned into sandy cliffs, with a few straggly bushes and clumps of tough grass rooted in cracks. The path beside the river almost vanished on both sides, so the cats had to scramble over boulders in order to keep close
to the water. Though they kept on stopping to scent the air, there was only the faintest trace of prey.

“This is no good,” Firestar meowed after a while. “No cats could live this close to the water, with no space for a camp. We'd better climb to the top of the gorge.”

This time the climb was easier; although the sandy cliff was smooth and slippery, there were cracks and occasional shallow ledges to give them plenty of pawholds. When Firestar scrambled over the edge wind buffeted his pelt, and he bounded a few pawsteps away from the cliff in case he was blown over. He found himself looking out over a wide stretch of sandy earth, with patches of scrubby grass dotted with stunted trees. In the distance he could just make out the walls of a Twolegplace, and the glitter of monsters speeding along a Thunderpath.

“We'll stay away from there,” he muttered as Sandstorm climbed up to join him.

His mate was already scenting the air. “Rabbits!”

Firestar didn't feel too hopeful. He was used to stalking prey in thick woodland; he wasn't a WindClan cat, swift enough to run it down in the open. “Let's keep going,” he mewed. “There might be a better place to hunt farther on.”

As they padded along the edge of the gorge, his paws began to tingle. He could smell cats! Tasting the air carefully, he tried to pick out the SkyClan scent that was familiar from his encounters with the Clan leader. But these scents were completely different.

Sandstorm had drawn a few paces ahead, and had paused
at the foot of a tree to sniff the bark. “Come and look at this,” she called, beckoning with her tail.

Bounding up to her, Firestar saw long claw marks scored into the bark. The cat scent was stronger here, too.

“A cat made those marks,” Sandstorm mewed, her green eyes gleaming.

Firestar nodded. “One with long, sharp claws, by the look of it. Come on,” he meowed, eagerly drawing air over his scent glands again. “Let's see what else we can find.”

A few pawsteps farther on, a cloud of flies buzzed into the air when he almost stumbled onto the half-eaten body of a rabbit.

“Ugh!” Backing away, he swiped his tongue over his jaws. “Crow-food.”

Sandstorm examined the dead rabbit from a distance. “Some cat killed that. It didn't die naturally, and there's cat scent on it. So there are cats around here who hunt for prey.”

Firestar made himself pad forward again and give the carcass a more careful scrutiny. “I'd guess the cat was hunting alone,” he meowed. “That would explain why it didn't finish its meal.”

“And they must be fast, like WindClan, to catch rabbits.”

Firestar retreated, and they set out again along the edge of the gorge. “The scent on that rabbit was different from the scent by the tree. These are rogues, not Clan cats.”

“But isn't that what the SkyClan cat said?” Sandstorm asked. “That his Clan had been scattered?”

Firestar didn't reply. Although the signs of cats were encouraging, he had never really considered, until now, what it would be like to put a Clan together from rogues and kittypets. He would have to treat every cat as if he were training an apprentice—no, a kit, because these cats would have no knowledge of the warrior code, or what it meant to live in a Clan. The task was so daunting that for a heartbeat he thought of turning around to go home. Then he gritted his teeth with determination. He wouldn't give up his quest until he had discovered exactly what cats lived here, and whether there was any hope of restoring SkyClan. But right now he felt as if his quest would never end, and he would never see the forest again.

Sunhigh was past when they came to a sandy bank with several rabbit holes leading down into the earth. The scent of rabbits grew stronger. Suddenly one burst out from behind a gorse bush and fled along the edge of the gorge. Firestar raced after it but Sandstorm flashed past him, and he slowed to watch while she chased the prey and brought it down.

“Well done!” he meowed, padding up to meet Sandstorm as she dragged the rabbit back. “Now you're a WindClan cat!”

When he and Sandstorm had shared the fresh-kill, Firestar felt full-fed for the first time in days. If his mate could catch prey here, so could the SkyClan cats.

Sandstorm blinked at him. “You're excited, aren't you?”

Firestar nodded. “Every pawstep we take is bringing us closer.”

“I'm glad I'm here with you.”

Firestar touched his nose to her ear. “I'm glad you're here, too. I don't think I could do this without you.”

 

They spent that night curled among the roots of a spreading oak tree, one of the few full-sized trees growing on this windswept cliff. With the scents of sap and bark wreathing around him, the rustle of leaves in his ears, Firestar could almost imagine that he was at home in the forest.

Sunlight shining into his face woke him. His eyes flew open in alarm; how had he managed to sleep for so long? Then he realized that the roots where he had settled to sleep had vanished, replaced by the sandy walls and roof of a cave. Sunlight was angling in through the opening, a few tail-lengths away. The air around him was warm. He could hear the murmurs of many sleeping cats, and SkyClan scent surrounded him. Raising his head, he saw the furry shapes of warriors curled up among moss and bracken.

A shadow fell across the cave, and Firestar saw a muscular tomcat outlined against the light. He recognized the ginger tom he had seen in his vision by the river. Fear clawed at him; what would these cats do to him when they found him in their den? But the ginger tom stared straight at him without seeing him, and Firestar realized that once again he was invisible to the SkyClan cats.

“Come on,” the ginger warrior meowed. “It's time you were moving.”

All around Firestar the warriors began to stir and raise
their heads. One of them—the brown tabby she-cat who had caught the squirrel—got up and arched her back in a long stretch. “Keep your fur on, Buzzardtail. We're coming.”

“Okay, Fernpelt, you can lead the dawn patrol,” the ginger tom went on. “Pick a couple of others to go with you, and keep your eyes open for that fox we spotted on the other side of the gorge.”

Fernpelt flicked her tail. “Don't worry. If we come across it, it'll be crow-food.”

The ginger tom stalked across the cave and prodded a sandy colored she-cat with one paw. “Up you get, Mousefang. You're coming hunting with me, and we'll pick up Oakpaw on the way. Nightfur,” he added to a black tom on the other side of the cave, “you can lead another hunting patrol.”

By now all the cats had risen to their paws and were shaking moss and bracken from their pelts. “This is our home now,” meowed Buzzardtail, glancing around approvingly. “You know where to go….”

As he spoke, he and all the rest of the cats began to fade. For a heartbeat Firestar saw the sandy walls of the cave appearing through their pelts; then the cave walls dissolved too, and he was blinking awake in the gray dawn. Buzzardtail's voice still echoed in his ears.
You know where to go….

Firestar padded out from the shelter of the tree. The sky shone with a milky light, and a gentle breeze teased his fur. All his senses strained to pick up traces of the lost Clan. His paws tingled with their nearness; would this be the day when he found them?

“I'm here,” he mewed aloud.

Turning back to where Sandstorm still slept, he spotted a mouse scuffling among the oak roots. He dropped into the hunter's crouch and pounced on it, killing it swiftly with a bite to the throat.

He woke Sandstorm by trailing the end of his tail across her nose. “Time to get up,” he announced, as her whiskers twitched and she opened her eyes. “There's fresh-kill waiting for you.”

When they continued their journey, they had to skirt thickets of gorse and bramble that grew close to the edge of the cliff. Firestar still picked up occasional traces of cats, but nothing to tell him where the Clan had gone.

Then as the bushes dwindled, Sandstorm padded up to the edge of the cliff again. Firestar, who had scented a mouse among the brambles, heard her let out a gasp. He whirled around to see her staring down into the gorge.

“Firestar, come and see!” she exclaimed. “The river has vanished!”

Abandoning his prey, Firestar rushed to
her side and looked down. The sides of the gorge sloped down steeply to a narrow, bone-dry valley strewn with reddish rocks. There wasn't even a trickle of water.

His heart began to pound. “We must have passed the place where SkyClan camped,” he mewed to Sandstorm. “The gray-and-white cat told me to follow the river.”

Sandstorm's tail lashed. “Mouse dung! We'd better climb down and head back along the gorge.”

Firestar took the lead as they climbed carefully down the steep cliff. Loose pebbles skidded beneath their paws; Firestar tried not to think about slipping all the way down in a flailing tangle of legs and tail, ending up broken at the bottom. He tried to step lightly, picking his way from one jutting rock to the next and using his tail for balance.

By now the sun was high in the sky, and the rocky sides of the gorge reflected the heat. The hot ground scorched Firestar's paws. Panting, he felt as if his fur were about to burst into flame. He disturbed a lizard basking on a rock; it whisked down a crack when his shadow fell on it.

“At least we won't starve,” he commented, pointing at the creature with his tail.

Sandstorm wrinkled her nose. “Only ShadowClan eat scaly things,” she meowed. “I'd have to be really hungry before I tried it.”

At last they reached the bottom of the gorge and began padding back the way they had come, weaving among the boulders. Firestar's pelt prickled; nothing grew in this part of the gorge except for a few clumps of wiry grass and stunted bushes; there was no shelter, no undergrowth to conceal the cats from hostile eyes.

“It's a good thing we're not black or white,” Sandstorm murmured. “At least our pelts will help to hide us.”

Firestar nodded tensely. “Stay alert. We don't know what might be lurking down here.”

As the sun slid down the sky, the shadow of the cliff fell across them. Firestar breathed more easily as the air grew cooler. He began to make out the sound of water up ahead. He took a deep breath, detecting the first traces of moisture in the dry air.

Sandstorm's tail went up. “I can hear the river!”

Wishing for the soft ground of the forest instead of these sharp pebbles, Firestar picked up the pace until he and Sandstorm were bounding among the rocks. Rounding a bend, he stopped dead when he saw a pile of reddish boulders blocking the gorge. The lapping of water was louder, but he couldn't see it.

He scrambled up the pile of rocks, claws scraping on the
crumbling stone, and peered cautiously over the top. Directly below him, water flowed smoothly out of a gaping black hole into a round pool before winding away down the gorge and out of sight.

Sandstorm clambered up beside Firestar. “So this is where the river begins.”

Firestar glanced around, half expecting to see the pale shapes of SkyClan warriors watching him from the cliffs. There were no cats in sight, but halfway up the side of the gorge he spotted several caves, dark, narrow openings tucked underneath the cliff. Narrow trails zigzagged across the cliff face, leading from one cave to the next.

Firestar remembered his dream of waking among SkyClan warriors in a sandy cave. The deputy's words echoed once more in his mind.
This is our home now. You know where to go.

“We are here,” he told Sandstorm quietly.

“You think SkyClan lived in those caves?” Sandstorm sounded dubious. “Climbing up and down the cliffs every day?”

“I think so.”

Sandstorm rose to her paws. “Okay, but I'm not going to look until we've had a drink. My mouth feels as dry as the gorge.”

She began to pick her way down the pile of boulders on the other side, following the river until she reached the pool where the river flowed out. Firestar joined her as she crouched down and began to lap. The water was icy cold; it soaked through his scorched fur and Firestar thought that he would never want to stop drinking.

The water flowed swiftly but without making a sound. A blue-green light sparkled under the surface, but further under the heap of boulders everything was dark. The cave gaped like an open mouth, silently waiting….

Firestar shivered and sat up, shaking droplets from his whiskers. Sandstorm was staring at something on the dried mud beside the pool.

“Look at that,” she mewed.

In the mud were the clear pawprints of a cat! “It could be a rogue, just passing through,” Firestar pointed out, “or even an adventurous kittypet.”

Sandstorm sniffed. “
Very
adventurous, for a kittypet. Let's have a look at those caves.”

The side of the gorge was even steeper here than where they had climbed down. Firestar struggled to keep his footing among the loose pebbles, convinced he was about to slip. After the first few tail-lengths he left the shadows behind, and the blazing heat struck him like a blow. Dust puffed up under his paws, making him as thirsty as ever.

But when he reached the first of the trails, the going became easier. It looked as if the cliff face had been scraped out to expose a flattened trail that led back and forth in a gentle slope, connecting each of the caves. Firestar headed for the highest entrance, which also looked to be the biggest. He pressed close to the cliff, avoiding the drop on the other side. Sandstorm was just behind him, puffing her breath out in a sigh of relief as she followed him onto the level floor of the cave.

Firestar stared around him. He had been here before. The
cave was several times the size of his den in the ThunderClan camp. Inside it was cool and shadowy, with sheer walls and a sandy floor. It was sheltered from rain or blistering heat, and it would be difficult for enemies to reach.

For a few heartbeats he stood still, imagining how the SkyClan cats would have felt when they reached this refuge. Had they been joyful to find shelter, or wary of danger lurking in the shadows? Had they longed for their camp in the forest? Or were they just too tired to care? For a moment they were all around him again; he could hear their mews and feel their pelts brushing against his own.

“What do you think of those?” Sandstorm asked, pointing with her tail to a few shallow scrapes in the floor at the back of the cave. “Filled with moss and bracken, they'd make pretty good nests.”

“Yes, but where would they find moss and bracken around here?” Firestar asked. “I didn't see any growing in the gorge.”

“There might be some on the cliffs.”

Firestar nodded, tasting the air again. The cave was full of animal scents: he could discern mouse and vole, and even cat, but none of them smelled fresh. He padded forward, nosing around the scrapes Sandstorm had spotted; only the memory of his dream assured him that they really were nests, not just natural dips in the cave floor.

“Let's go and explore some of the other caves.” Firestar headed for the entrance, only to stop dead a tail-length inside. His heart had started to thump again. “Look at that,” he whispered.

At one side of the entrance was a narrow column of rock, attached on one side to the cave wall. Thickly scored down the lower half were the marks of claws. Hardly daring to breathe, Firestar padded across, raised his forepaws, and placed his own claws in the marks.

“A perfect fit!” Sandstorm breathed.

She was right. Firestar's claws slipped into the marks as if he had made them himself. He shivered to think that his paws were resting where those other cats had been, so long ago.

“Look at those other marks.” Sandstorm padded up to the stone trunk and laid one paw against it, close to the bottom.

For the first time Firestar noticed some tiny scratches running sideways across the trunk. “Maybe kits made them.”

Sandstorm looked doubtful. “Why would they scratch crosswise, instead of up and down?”

Firestar shrugged. “Why do kits do anything? Anyway, it doesn't matter. This is the place,” he meowed, suddenly more confident than ever. “This is where SkyClan made their camp.”

Sandstorm's green eyes glinted. “Then where are they now?”

 

They spent the rest of the day exploring the other caves. Firestar's paws tingled as they kept discovering more of the claw marks, proof that all these caves had once been inhabited by cats.

“Look!” Sandstorm murmured in the next cave they visited, resting her tail tip gently against the wall. “Nothing but tiny marks! This must have been the nursery.”

Firestar glanced back at the entrance; a boulder blocked most of it, hiding it from hostile eyes and keeping it cool even in blazing sunlight. “The kits and their mothers would have been safe here.”

Sandstorm padded farther into the cave, her pale ginger pelt a blur in the shadows. “There are bigger scrapes in the floor, too,” she reported. “Just the right size for a queen and her litter.”

Further down the cliff face they found smaller caves that might have been dens for the apprentices, the medicine cat, and the Clan leader. Finally they returned to the first cave.

“I guess this was the warriors' den,” Firestar meowed, not wanting to bring up his dream. “There's plenty of space, and it's near the top of the cliff. They'd be able to protect the rest of the Clan if foxes or Twolegs tried to get down.”

Sandstorm thoughtfully tasted the air. “There's cat scent here,” she announced. “Not fresh, but it's all we've smelled so far. I think at least one cat was here in the last moon or so.”

Firestar padded slowly around the cave and spotted something white glimmering in a crevice between a boulder and the wall. He poked one paw into the gap and drew out a heap of tiny white bones. “A mouse or a vole,” he commented to Sandstorm, who had come to have a look. “You're right; cats have been here, but it doesn't look as if they live here permanently. If they did, the scent would be fresh.”

“I wonder why they come?” Sandstorm didn't sound as if she expected an answer, and Firestar couldn't give her one.

By now the sun had gone down and the gorge was filled
with shadows. They climbed the last few tail-lengths to the cliff top and hunted among the bushes along the edge. When they had eaten, they returned to the warriors' den for the night.

“I'm so exhausted, I could sleep for a moon.” Sandstorm sighed, turning around in one of the shallow scrapes and curling up with her tail over her nose.

Her steady breathing soon told Firestar that she was asleep. He sat beside her, gazing around the cave and picturing the way it had been in his dream: warm, breathing bodies in nests of moss and bracken, and one cat, awake as he was, on watch.

He blinked, and the cats vanished. Pale silver light from the half-moon washed into the cave, lapping at his fur. But there was no sound, no flicker of a pale pelt to disturb the shadows.

Did SkyClan scatter too long ago?
he wondered.
Is there any hope of finding their descendants? Or have I come too late?