The Darkest Hour (15 page)

“No.” Graystripe's voice rasped in his
throat.

Firestar pressed closer to his friend, sharing his grief at Stonefur's death and his anger that the RiverClan warrior's courage had been worth nothing in an unfair fight.

Blackfoot looked down at Stonefur's body in satisfaction.

Darkstripe whirled to confront the two apprentices. “Tigerstar,” he meowed, “let
me
kill them.”

Graystripe would have sprung forward then, in spite of anything Firestar could do, but before he could move Tigerstar shook his battle-scarred head. “Really, Darkstripe? A prisoner can defeat you, but you think you could take on two apprentices?”

Darkstripe bowed his head in shame. His leader's eyes narrowed coldly as he stared at the two young cats. They were huddled together, trembling with shock. They hardly seemed to realize that their own lives were hanging by a hair.

“No,” Tigerstar meowed at last. “For now I will let them live. They may be useful to me alive.”

Firestar flashed a look at Graystripe, who returned his glance with mingled relief and apprehension in his eyes.

Tigerstar summoned Jaggedtooth. “Take the apprentices back to their prison.”

The ShadowClan warrior dipped his head and herded the two stunned cats away through the reeds. Graystripe's hungry gaze followed them out of sight.

“The meeting is at an end,” Tigerstar declared.

At once the cats in the clearing began to slip away. Tigerstar leaped down from the Bonehill and vanished into the reeds, flanked by Blackfoot and Darkstripe. Eventually only Leopardstar was left. She padded forward until she stood over the broken body of her former deputy. Slowly she bent her head and nosed Stonefur's torn gray pelt. If she meowed a last farewell, Firestar did not hear it, and after a moment she turned and followed Tigerstar through the reeds.

“Now!” Graystripe sprang to his paws. “Firestar, we've got to rescue my kits.”

“Yes, but don't go rushing off,” Firestar warned him. “We have to make sure all the cats have gone.”

His friend's body was quivering with suppressed tension. “I don't care!” he spat. “If they try to stop us, I'll rip them all apart.”

“The kits are safe for the moment,” murmured Ravenpaw. “There's no need to take risks.”

Firestar cautiously raised his head above the level of the reeds. By now it was quite dark; the only light came from Silverpelt and a pale glow from the moon low in the sky. The ShadowClan and RiverClan scents were rapidly fading. The
only sound was the dry rustle of wind in the reeds.

Crouching down again, Firestar murmured, “They've gone for now. This is our chance. We've got to find where they're keeping the apprentices, and—”

“And get them away,” Graystripe interrupted. “Whatever it takes.”

Firestar nodded. “Ravenpaw, are you up for it? It will be dangerous.”

The loner's eyes widened. “You think I'd leave, after we saw
that
? No way. I'm with you, Firestar.”

“Good.” Firestar blinked in gratitude. “I thought you would be.”

Beckoning his two friends with his tail, he led the way into the clearing, his pawsteps growing hesitant as he left the shelter of the reeds. He knew what he was doing was against the warrior code, but what Tigerstar had done had left him no alternative. He did not know how his warrior ancestors could have watched the slaughter of Stonefur without doing anything to save him.

Creeping close to the ground, the three cats reached the stream where rotting fresh-kill lay strewn along the bank. In the midst of his cold fury, Firestar spared a moment to be angry at the waste of prey in such a hard season.

“Look at that!” he hissed.

“But we could roll in it,” Ravenpaw suggested. “It'll disguise our scent.”

Firestar gave him a brief nod, approval calming his anger. Ravenpaw was thinking like a warrior. Firestar crouched down
and pressed his fur into the decaying carcass of a rabbit. Graystripe and Ravenpaw followed. The gray warrior's eyes were like chips of yellow flint.

When all three cats were thoroughly covered with the scent of crowfood, Firestar headed into the reeds where he had seen Jaggedtooth disappear with the two apprentices. There was a narrow path along the frozen mud, as if cats regularly came and went that way. All Firestar's senses were alert.

As they headed away from the river toward the farmland on the other side of RiverClan territory, the reeds thinned out and the ground rose. When Firestar and his friends came to the edge of the cover, they saw a grassy slope in front of them with an occasional clump of gorse and hawthorn. About halfway up a dark hole yawned in the hillside. Jaggedtooth was crouched outside it.

“There are pawprints leading into that hole,” Firestar murmured.

Graystripe lifted his muzzle to taste the air and let out a faint sound of disgust. “Sick cats,” he meowed quietly. “You're right, Firestar; this is the place.” He bared his teeth. “Jaggedtooth is mine.”

“No.” Firestar's tail whipped out, signaling his friend to stay where he was. “We can't afford a fight. The noise would bring every cat in the territory. We have to get rid of him another way.”

“I can do that.” Ravenpaw's paws anxiously kneaded the ground, but his expression was determined. “He'll recognize you two, but he doesn't know me.”

Firestar hesitated, then nodded. “How will you do it?”

“I've got a plan.” Ravenpaw's eyes shone with anticipation, and Firestar realized that the loner was almost relishing the danger, as if he had missed having a chance to use his warrior skills. “Don't worry; it'll be fine,” the black cat assured him.

Straightening up, he strolled out of the reeds and up the slope, his head and tail held high. Jaggedtooth got up and paced forward to meet him, the tabby fur on his neck bristling.

Firestar gathered himself, ready to spring if the ShadowClan warrior attacked. But though Jaggedtooth looked aggressive, he did nothing more than give Ravenpaw a suspicious sniff.

“I don't know you,” he growled. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Think you know all the RiverClan cats, do you?” Ravenpaw inquired coolly. “I've got a message from Tigerstar.”

Jaggedtooth grunted and his whiskers twitched as he sniffed Ravenpaw again. “Great StarClan, you stink!”

“You don't smell so pleasant yourself,” Ravenpaw retorted. “Do you want this message or don't you?”

Firestar and Graystripe exchanged a glance as Jaggedtooth hesitated. Firestar felt his heart thud painfully against his ribs.

“Go on, then,” the ShadowClan warrior meowed at last.

“Tigerstar wants you to go to him at once,” mewed Ravenpaw. “He sent me to take your place guarding the prisoners.”

“What?” Jaggedtooth lashed his tail in disbelief. “Only
ShadowClan guards the prisoners. You RiverClan cats are all too soft. Why did Tigerstar send you and not one of our own Clan?”

Firestar flinched. Ravenpaw had made a potentially fatal mistake.

But the loner didn't seem bothered. Turning away, he meowed, “I thought we were supposed to be all one Clan now. But suit yourself. I'll tell Tigerstar you wouldn't come.”

“No, wait.” Jaggedtooth twitched his ears. “I didn't say that. If Tigerstar wants me…Where is he, then?”

“Over there.” Ravenpaw pointed with his tail in the direction of the RiverClan camp. “He had Darkstripe and Blackfoot with him.”

Jaggedtooth made up his mind. “Right,” he muttered. “But you stay out here till I get back. If I smell your stink inside the hole I'll rip your fur off.”

He headed down the slope. Ravenpaw watched him go, then padded up and sat down just outside the hole. Firestar and Graystripe crouched in the reeds as Jaggedtooth passed within a couple of tail-lengths of them. He was hurrying now, and did not even stop to scent the air as he vanished down the path.

Once he had gone, Firestar and Graystripe bounded across the open ground to join Ravenpaw. Graystripe paused briefly to sniff and meowed, “Yes! They're in there!” before he vanished inside the hole.

Firestar stopped in front of Ravenpaw. “Well done!”

Ravenpaw licked his paw and drew it over his ear two or
three times to hide his embarrassment. “It was easy. He's such a stupid furball.”

“Yes, but he'll know something's up as soon as he finds Tigerstar,” Firestar pointed out. “Keep watch, and call out if you see any cat.” With a last glance behind him, he plunged into the hole after Graystripe.

He found himself in a long, narrow passage carved out of the sandy soil. Thick darkness engulfed him after the first few tail-lengths. There was a lingering scent of fox, but it was faint and stale, as if the original occupant of the hole were long gone. Stronger by far was the fear scent rising from the darkness, the scent of cats who had given up all hope.

The passage led steadily downward. Before he reached the end of it, Firestar heard the sound of scuffling and surprised mews. One of the apprentices called out, “Father? Is it really you?”

A moment later Firestar could no longer feel his fur brushing the passage walls on either side. His next step brought him up against a cat's haunches; he recognized Graystripe by his scent. The scent of the two apprentices was stronger than ever, and with a jolt of relief Firestar recognized another cat.

“Mistyfoot!” he exclaimed. “Thank StarClan we've found you.”

“Is that Firestar?” Mistyfoot's voice was hoarse, close to his ear. “What are you doing here?”

“It's a long story,” Firestar replied. “I'll tell you everything, but first we have to get out of here. Graystripe, are you ready?”

A tense mew of agreement came from his friend. Though
Firestar couldn't see him, he could picture him huddled close to Featherpaw and Stormpaw.

“Let's go,” Firestar meowed, turning with difficulty in the narrow mouth of the underground den. “Mistyfoot, we're going to take you all back to ThunderClan with us.” Remembering how weak Stonefur and the apprentices had looked, he added, “Can you make it that far?”

“Once I'm out of this hole I can make it anywhere,” Mistyfoot mewed determinedly.

“So can we,” added Featherpaw.

“That's great. Mistyfoot, I'm so sorry, but we couldn't rescue Stonefur…” Firestar began, looking for words to tell the she-cat about her brother's death.

“I already know,” meowed Mistyfoot, her voice ragged with grief. “The apprentices told me. They say he died bravely.”

“Very bravely. All StarClan will honor him.” Firestar pushed his muzzle into Mistyfoot's fur, a gesture of comfort. “Come on. We'll make sure he didn't die for nothing. Tigerstar will not hurt you as well.”

His heart thudding with fear, Firestar scrabbled his way back up the tunnel. At the top he paused to check that it was safe to emerge, then led the way into the open. He felt as if the rancid stench of the prison would cling to his fur forever. Ravenpaw took his place at the back of the group, keeping a lookout as they crept down the slope.

Silent as shadows, the cats followed the path through the reeds until they came to the clearing again. It was empty, the Bonehill casting its ominous shadow as far as the body of
Stonefur lying still in the moonlight.

Mistyfoot went over to her brother and bent her head to nose his fur. Outside the darkness of her prison, Firestar saw that she was as skinny and unkempt as the dead warrior, every rib showing, her fur matted and her eyes dull with suffering.

“Stonefur, Stonefur,” she murmured. “What will I do without you?”

Firestar's fur bristled with tension as he listened for the sound of approaching cats, but he forced himself to give Mistyfoot time to mourn. They could not take Stonefur's body with them for the proper warrior's vigil; this was Mistyfoot's last farewell.

Stormpaw, who had been Stonefur's apprentice, approached as well. He touched his nose to his mentor's head before padding back to stand beside his father.

Firestar could not help remembering Bluestar, and how much she had loved her lost kits. Had she been here, he wondered, to lead her son to StarClan? She and Stonefur had both died bravely, their cruel deaths caused by Tigerstar's evil ambition. Every hair on Firestar's pelt pricked with his longing to confront the dark tabby warrior and make him pay for his crimes.

“Firestar, we have to go,” Graystripe hissed, the whites of his eyes bright in the half-light.

His words roused Mistyfoot. Before Firestar could reply, she raised her head, gave Stonefur one last, loving look, and padded over to where the others were waiting for her.

Firestar set a brisk pace back toward the river, feeling him
self relax as the stench of the Bonehill and the scattered prey began to fade. Graystripe helped the two apprentices along, encouraging them with gentle nudges and mews. Mistyfoot kept up bravely, limping on paws cracked and sore after her imprisonment, while Ravenpaw stayed at the rear, his ears tilted back for the sounds of pursuit.

The night was silent except for the murmur of water, and by the time the river came in sight they had not encountered any other cats. Turning downstream toward the stepping-stones, Firestar dared to hope that they would escape undetected.

Then a distant yowling sounded through the reeds and the six cats froze in their tracks.

“The prisoners have escaped!”

“Quick—the stepping-stones!” Firestar hissed.

Alone, the ThunderClan cats could have raced easily out of danger, but none of them would abandon the prisoners. Graystripe fell back to join Ravenpaw as rearguard, while Firestar tried to urge on the RiverClan cats.

“You'll have to leave us!” Mistyfoot gasped. “There's no sense in all of us being captured.”

“Never!” snarled Graystripe. “We're all in this together.”

By now they were bounding alongside the river, the RiverClan cats stumbling in their efforts to keep up. Firestar could already see the ripples in the water where the current was broken by the stepping-stones. But the yowling behind them grew louder, and when he turned his head to draw in a rapid gulp of air he could taste the scent of ShadowClan.

“Great StarClan!” he whispered. “They're catching up.”

None of the pursuing cats had appeared yet by the time they reached the stepping-stones. Firestar leaped onto the first stone, then the second, and gestured with his tail for Mistyfoot to follow.

“Hurry!” he urged.

Mistyfoot bent her hind legs and leaped, staggering as her paws hit the slippery surface, but managing to keep her balance. The two apprentices came next. Firestar stopped when he was halfway across and waited, the river water lapping his paws, while the other cats leaped out behind him.

Because the RiverClan cats were so weak they were agonizingly slow, bracing themselves for each leap. Mistyfoot reached him first, and Firestar edged to the side of the stone to let her go past. The two apprentices were still some way behind. Firestar's claws scraped the rough stone in his impatience, though he tried to stay calm. When the first dark shapes of pursuing cats slipped out of the reeds he forced himself to say nothing. Stormpaw was just nerving himself to leap; Firestar locked his gaze with the younger cat's. “Come on,” he mewed steadily. “You're doing fine.”

But as her brother gathered himself, Featherpaw, a couple of stones behind him, spotted the ShadowClan warriors racing along the riverbank. “They're coming!” she yowled.

Caught off balance, Stormpaw misjudged the distance and fell short. His forepaws landed on the stone, but his hindquarters splashed into the river. The current bubbled around him, dragging at his thick fur as he scrabbled to pull himself to safety.

“I'm slipping!” He gasped. “I can't hold on!”

Firestar jumped back onto the previous stone, barely managing to balance in the space left by Stormpaw's clawing forepaws. He fastened his teeth in the apprentice's scruff just as the younger cat lost his grip and slid backward into the
river. For a few heartbeats Firestar felt his own paws sliding on the smooth rock under Stormpaw's weight and the force of the current.

Then he spotted Graystripe swimming up behind his son, paws thrusting strongly through the icy water. The gray warrior shoved his shoulder underneath Stormpaw and heaved him upward. Firestar managed to haul the apprentice out to crouch shivering on the rock.

Glancing toward the RiverClan shore, Firestar saw Ravenpaw urging Featherpaw onto the next stone, getting his own paws wet to leave her space to stand on the driest part.

Behind them, the pursuing cats had reached the first stone. Blackfoot was in the lead, flanked by Jaggedtooth and three or four others—too many to fight, Firestar realized.

“Come on!” he yowled. “Hurry!” He nudged the shivering Stormpaw. “Keep going—follow Mistyfoot!”

Blackfoot crouched, ready to spring, his eyes fixed on the stepping-stone where Ravenpaw had put himself between Featherpaw and the ShadowClan warrior. Firestar's belly clenched. The loner was brave, but his training days were far behind him and he would be no match for a seasoned warrior like Tigerstar's deputy.

Graystripe began swimming back toward Ravenpaw. A wild screech split the air as the rest of the ShadowClan warriors spread along the bank in a menacing line.

“Keep going!” Firestar gasped to Mistyfoot. “Take Stormpaw with you. I'm going back.”

But before he could move, a fierce battle yowl went up
from the forest on the ThunderClan side of the river. Firestar saw three shapes streaking out of the undergrowth: Cloudtail, with Sandstorm and Thornclaw just behind him.

“Thank StarClan—” he began, breaking off as Cloudtail leaped toward the river, eyes blazing and claws extended. He was heading straight for Mistyfoot, who was just jumping from the last stone onto the bank.

Firestar raced across the remaining stones to intercept the white warrior, barrelling into his side and knocking him off his paws. “Mouse-brain!” he snapped. “The enemy is back there.”

He jerked his head toward the middle of the river, where Ravenpaw and Graystripe were tussling with Blackfoot on the central stone. Stormpaw was nerving himself for the last leap onto the bank, while Featherpaw huddled two or three stones farther back. Sandstorm and Thornclaw launched themselves across the stones to face the ShadowClan warriors, the two apprentices cowering at the edge of their stones to let them pass.

Muttering “Sorry” to Mistyfoot, Cloudtail sprang after them. Firestar bunched his muscles to follow, but before he leaped he saw Blackfoot slip off the stone to be swept away in the current. He ducked briefly below the surface of the water, then reappeared swimming clumsily back toward the RiverClan side, his ears flat against his head. The three ThunderClan warriors stood crowded together on one stone, digging in their claws and growling fiercely at the remaining pursuers.

“You'll come no farther if you want to stay alive,” snarled Sandstorm.

The ShadowClan warriors milled about uncertainly on the first two or three stones. Unused to the river, they were unsteady on their paws and clearly unwilling to join battle with the furious ThunderClan cats.

“Get back!” Blackfoot yowled as he clambered onto the bank, his fur streaming. “Let them escape; they're only half-Clan crowfood.”

His warriors seemed happy to obey, and within moments all the ShadowClan cats had vanished into the reeds.

Firestar concentrated on helping the two apprentices finish crossing. Graystripe and Ravenpaw followed closely behind. Checking his cats for wounds, Firestar saw that Graystripe had lost a clump of fur from one shoulder, and Ravenpaw's left ear was bleeding, but otherwise they seemed unhurt.

“Well done, all of you,” he meowed, turning to the other ThunderClan warriors. “I was never so glad to see any cats as when you three came out of the forest. What brought you her e?”

“You did,” Cloudtail panted. “You ordered extra patrols to watch the border. Lucky for you that we came along when we did.”

Firestar felt his legs go weak with relief. StarClan had sent the patrol at just the right moment. “Okay,” he meowed, “we'd better get back to camp. These three cats need to rest. Ravenpaw, you'd better come too and let Cinderpelt look at that ear.”

Firestar stayed at the rear in case the ShadowClan
warriors decided to cross the river after all, but behind them every thing was quiet. After a few moments, Sandstorm dropped back to join him.

“What happened?” she asked. “What are these RiverClan cats doing here?”

Firestar paused to give her ear a quick lick. “They were prisoners,” he explained. “If we'd left them there, Tigerstar would have killed them.”

Sandstorm turned her green gaze on him, horrified. “Why?”

“Because their parents came from different Clans,” Firestar explained. “Tigerstar says half-Clan cats aren't fit to live in any Clan.”

“But his own kits are half-Clan!” Sandstorm protested.

Firestar shook his head. “No, because Tigerstar was a ThunderClan cat when they were born. At least, that would be his excuse. You don't think that the great Tigerstar would father anything but pure-blooded kits, do you?”

The shock and disgust in Sandstorm's eyes deepened, then turned to sympathy as she looked at the RiverClan cats. “Poor things,” she murmured. “Will you let them stay in ThunderClan?”

Firestar nodded. “What else can we do?”

The moon was high and bathing the ravine in a silvery light by the time that Firestar and the others reached the camp. Firestar could hardly believe that everything could be so peaceful here, only a short distance from the bloodstained clearing of the Bonehill and all the violence unleashed by Tigerstar's ambition.

But as he emerged from the gorse tunnel into the camp, the illusion of peace was shattered. Whitestorm came hurrying toward him with Brackenfur at his heels. The younger warrior looked distraught.

“Thank StarClan you're back, Firestar!” he exclaimed. “It's Tawnypaw—she's disappeared!”