by Erin Hunter
“Yes, Bluestar.” Tigerclaw turned to the warriors. “Whitestorm, you’ll head the second party; I’ll head the first. I’ll take Darkstripe, Mousefur, Longtail, Dustpelt, and Fireheart.” Fireheart lifted his head as Tigerclaw called his name, feeling a thrill run through him. He was to join the lead party!
“You!” Tigerclaw called to Onewhisker. “What’s your name?” The WindClan warrior looked startled by Tigerclaw’s tone.
Fireheart answered for him. “Onewhisker,” he meowed.
Tigerclaw nodded, barely pausing to look at Fireheart. “Onewhisker, you’ll be in my party. The rest of the ThunderClan warriors will join Whitestorm. You too, Brackenpaw.”
“Are we all ready?” called Tigerclaw. The warriors raised their heads and let out a battle cry. Tigerclaw charged for the gorse tunnel and they raced after him.
Up the ravine they climbed, into the forest. They were heading for Fourtrees and the uplands beyond. Fireheart glanced over his shoulder as he ran through the trees. Graystripe was near the back, his face grim, his eyes staring blankly ahead. Fireheart wondered if Silverstream would be at the battle. Fireheart felt a pang of sorrow for his friend, but this time he had no doubts about his own readiness to fight. After bringing WindClan home, he couldn’t help feeling responsible for them. He would not let any Clan drive them back to those Thunderpath tunnels.
Spottedleaf’s fragrance filled his nostrils once more, and Fireheart’s fur prickled. “Beware a warrior you cannot trust!” This was going to be a difficult battle in more ways than one. Graystripe would have no choice about proving his loyalty now.
Even though the snow had stopped falling, it was hard work getting through the drifts. An icy crust had formed over the top of the snow, but the warriors were heavy enough to break through and sink into the softer snow underneath.
“Tigerclaw!” Willowpelt’s yowl sounded from the rear. The deputy halted and turned.
“We’re being followed!” Willowpelt called.
Her words sent a quiver of alarm through Fireheart. Had they run into a trap? Quietly the patrol retraced their pawsteps, alert and suspicious. A snow-laden branch creaked above, making Brackenpaw jump.
“Wait,” hissed Tigerclaw.
The cats crouched in the deep snow. Fireheart could hear the noise of pawsteps heading toward them. They sounded light, like small paws stepping delicately over the top of the ice crust. With a sinking heart, Fireheart guessed who it was a heartbeat before Cloudkit and Brindleface’s two kits appeared from behind a log.
Tigerclaw reared up at them and the kits squealed in fright. The warrior recognized them instantly and dropped down onto all four paws. “What are you doing here!” he spat.
“We wanted to join the battle,” mewed Cloudkit. Fireheart winced.
“Fireheart!” called Tigerclaw. Fireheart hurried forward, and the dark warrior spat impatiently, “You brought this kit into the Clan; you deal with it.”
Fireheart looked into Tigerclaw’s blazing eyes. He knew that the deputy was trying to force him to choose: Fireheart could either join the battle party and fight for the Clan or take care of his kittypet kin. The whole patrol waited in silence for Fireheart to speak.
Fireheart knew he would choose to fight for the Clan, but he couldn’t sacrifice his sister’s kit. Cloudkit and the others must be taken home safely by another cat. But which warrior could the raiding party do without?
“Brackenpaw,” Fireheart called to Graystripe’s apprentice. “Please take these kits home!” Fireheart waited for Graystripe to object, but the gray warrior remained silent as Fireheart ordered his apprentice back to camp.
Brackenpaw’s tail drooped and Fireheart felt a stab of guilt. “There’ll be plenty more battles for you to fight,” he promised.
“But Fireheart, you said one day we’d fight side by side!” Cloudkit’s protest rang through the trees. Tigerclaw shot Fireheart a mocking look. Fireheart felt his fur prickle uncomfortably as amusement rippled through the patrol at the tiny kit’s words. But he refused to show his embarrassment. “One day we will,” he meowed. “But not today!”
The white kit’s shoulders sagged and Fireheart let out a sigh of relief as he watched Cloudkit reluctantly join the other kits following Brackenpaw back to the camp.
“I’m surprised by your choice, Fireheart,” Tigerclaw sneered. “I didn’t expect you to be so keen to fight this battle.”
Fireheart stared at Tigerclaw and felt the blood pulse through him, so that his whole body throbbed with rage. “If only you were keen too!” he retorted. “You’d give the battle cry instead of keeping us here while WindClan warriors die!”
Tigerclaw flashed him a look of loathing, threw back his head, and yowled to the sky before charging on toward the WindClan camp. Fireheart and the others raced after him, past Fourtrees to the steep slope that led to the uplands. They bounded up, their paws made noiseless by the snow.
When they reached the top, Fireheart was battered by a howling wind that turned his ears inside out. The WindClan hunting grounds looked more barren than ever, the gorse hidden by a layer of snow.
“Fireheart! You know the way to the WindClan camp!” yowled Tigerclaw above the wind. “Lead us there.” He slowed to let Fireheart pass. Fireheart wondered if the deputy didn’t trust Onewhisker enough to let the WindClan warrior guide them. He looked back at Graystripe, hoping for some help, but the gray warrior had his head bowed low and his shoulders hunched miserably as the wind buffeted his thick fur. There would be little help there. Fireheart turned his eyes to StarClan and sent up a prayer for guidance.
He was surprised to find that he recognized the shape of the land even beneath the snow. There was the badger set and the rock Graystripe had climbed to get a better view. He followed the contours he remembered from his journey with Graystripe until he reached the dip in the land that marked the WindClan camp.
Fireheart paused at the rim of the hollow. “Down there!” he yowled. For a heartbeat the wind dropped, and from below they heard the sounds of battle—screams and howls as cat furiously fought with cat.
CHAPTER 30
Tigerclaw addressed the warriors in a fierce hiss that carried through the blizzard. “Whitestorm, wait until you hear my battle cry! Onewhisker, you lead us through the camp entrance; we’ll take care of the rest.”
Onewhisker began to race down the slope toward the snow-covered bushes. Tigerclaw thundered after him, Darkstripe at his heels. Fireheart charged behind the sleek gray tabby, through the narrow tunnel that led into the WindClan camp. The gorse was as dense and sharp as he remembered. Graystripe and the other warriors stayed at the top of the slope, a fresh wave of attack ready to strike after the initial barrage.
Fireheart skidded to a halt, reeling at the sight that greeted him in the camp clearing. Last time he’d been here, in search of the scent trail that would lead them to the missing Clan, the place had been deserted and silent. Now the clearing swarmed with writhing, screeching, fighting cats. Onewhisker had been right—the WindClan cats were hopelessly outnumbered. A fresh party of ShadowClan and RiverClan warriors waited at the edge of the clearing, but WindClan could spare no backup group. The whole Clan was fighting, apprentices and elders, warriors and queens.
Fireheart spotted Morningflower wrestling with a ShadowClan warrior. The WindClan queen looked exhausted and frightened, her fur standing in ragged clumps. Still, she nimbly turned and scratched her attacker, but he was much bigger and knocked her easily to the ground with a heavy blow.
With a howl, Fireheart leaped and landed squarely on the shoulders of the ShadowClan tom. He clung on while the surprised warrior spun and tried to shake him loose. Morningflower raked the tom with her claws as Fireheart dragged him to the ground. The ShadowClan warrior screeched and ripped himself free. He ran into the prickly camp wall and pushed his way through. Morningflower shot a grateful glance at Fireheart and turned back to the battle.
Fireheart looked around, shaking drops of blood from his nose. T
he fresh patrols of ShadowClan and RiverClan cats had joined the fight now. ThunderClan’s arrival had evened the numbers for a while, but now the second party was needed. Fireheart heard Tigerclaw’s battle cry ring out, and a moment later Whitestorm exploded into the clearing, followed by Graystripe, Runningwind, and the rest of the ThunderClan warriors.
Fireheart grabbed a RiverClan warrior, tripping him with one paw and holding him down with another. He rolled the tom over and thrashed at his belly with his hind claws. The RiverClan cat leaped away and crashed into a WindClan warrior. The warrior turned in surprise. Fireheart recognized Onewhisker straightaway and watched as he reared and attacked the RiverClan tom without a moment’s pause. Fireheart could see the fire in Onewhisker’s eyes. He could leave him to finish this fight.
A familiar hiss caught Fireheart’s attention. Graystripe was battling with a gray ShadowClan cat. It was Wetfoot, a warrior who had helped them fight to rid ShadowClan of Brokenstar. The two warriors were well matched. Graystripe thrust Wetfoot away with his back legs and spun around, looking for another cat to attack. Fireheart could see a RiverClan cat right behind Graystripe. Above the din of battle, he heard the blood roar in his ears. Would Graystripe attack one of Silverstream’s fellow warriors?
Graystripe leaped, and Fireheart held his breath. But instead of jumping onto the RiverClan cat, Graystripe sailed over him and landed instead on the back of another ShadowClan warrior.
Fireheart heard Tigerclaw call his name. He twisted his head and saw the warrior at the other end of the clearing. The fighting was thick up there, with cats from all Clans battling together.
As he charged through to the ThunderClan deputy, Fireheart felt Leopardfur grasp his hind leg, pulling him down.
“You!” hissed the RiverClan deputy. They had last met at the gorge, where Whiteclaw had died.
Fireheart threw her off and flipped over onto his back. Too late, he realized that he’d exposed his soft belly. Leopardfur didn’t waste a moment. She reared up and came down on Fireheart with all her might. Fireheart felt the wind knocked out of him before the thorn-sharp claws dug into his belly. He screamed in agony. As his eyes rolled he saw Tigerclaw at the side of the clearing, watching him with cold, expressionless eyes.
“Tigerclaw,” Fireheart howled. “Help me!”
But Tigerclaw didn’t move. He just stared as Leopardfur clawed Fireheart again and again.
Sheer rage gave Fireheart the strength he needed. He fought through the pain, drew back his hind legs, and pushed up against Leopardfur’s belly as hard as he could. Fireheart saw a look of shock on the deputy’s face as his kick lifted the warrior and flung her halfway across the clearing. Fireheart struggled to his paws and glared at Tigerclaw, burning with pain and rage. Tigerclaw met his gaze with a look of undisguised hatred, and leaped away into the thick of the battle.
A blow on the back of his head knocked Fireheart off balance. He staggered and turned to see Stonefur. The RiverClan warrior was preparing to aim another swipe. Fireheart ducked out of the way and shoved Stonefur straight into Whitestorm. The ThunderClan cat whipped around and grasped Stonefur by the scruff of his neck. Fireheart tried to dart forward and help the white-furred warrior, but claws held him back, digging into his haunches. He twisted to see who it was and glimpsed gray fur. It was Silverstream.
The she-cat’s face was twisted with battle rage as she reared up at him. Blood was dripping into her eyes, and Fireheart could tell that she hadn’t recognized him. She drew back a paw and he saw her long claws flash as she prepared to swipe him. As Fireheart screwed up his eyes, bracing himself for the blow, he heard an achingly familiar yowl. “Silverstream! No!”
Graystripe, thought Fireheart.
Silverstream hesitated, shook her head, and recognized Fireheart with a muted gasp. She dropped back down to all four paws, her eyes wide with shock.
Fireheart reacted instinctively, his blood aflame with battle. Without thinking, he leaped onto the back of the RiverClan she-cat and pinned her to the ground. She didn’t struggle as he drew back his head and prepared to give her a vicious bite on her shoulder. But as Fireheart raised his head he felt Graystripe’s eyes boring into him. The gray warrior was watching in horror from the edge of the battle.
The look of pain and disbelief in his friend’s eyes brought Fireheart to his senses. He stopped, sheathed his claws, and loosened his grip on Silverstream. The she-cat slipped away from him and disappeared into the surrounding gorse. Fireheart stared, still in shock, as Graystripe raced after her.
Fireheart felt as if he were still being watched. He looked around and his eyes met Darkstripe’s on the other side of the clearing. Fireheart flinched. Graystripe’s affair had forced him into disloyalty to ThunderClan after all—he had let an enemy warrior go! How much had Darkstripe seen? Just then Fireheart heard Runningwind yowl for help. The tabby warrior was grappling desperately with Nightstar, ShadowClan’s treacherous leader. Fireheart darted through the throng to Runningwind’s side.
Without pausing to think, Fireheart leaped, grabbing Nightstar from behind. The black warrior howled in rage as Fireheart pulled him backward and sank his claws deep into Nightstar’s fur. He had fought side by side with this warrior only a few moons ago to help him drive out Brokenstar. Now he sank his teeth into Nightstar’s shoulder with the same ferocity he had used against the former ShadowClan leader.
Nightstar squealed and twisted in Fireheart’s grip. This tom had not been made leader for nothing, thought Fireheart, struggling to hang on. Nightstar scrabbled free, but Runningwind was ready. He pounced, and together the two warriors rolled across the frozen clearing. Fireheart watched them struggle and twist, timing his moment perfectly so that when he finally leaped, he landed squarely on Nightstar’s back. He grasped him more firmly this time, ready for the warrior to wriggle free. But Runningwind also had a grip. Together they scratched and bit the ShadowClan leader till he screeched out loud. Then they released him, springing backward with their claws still unsheathed.
Nightstar leaped to his paws and spun around, hissing. Fireheart saw the fury in his eyes, but the ShadowClan leader knew he was beaten. He backed away, his eyes darting around the clearing where his warriors were suffering similar treatment from the other ThunderClan warriors. He gave the yowl of retreat. Instantly his warriors stopped fighting and, like their leader, backed into the gorse that surrounded the camp. The RiverClan warriors were left alone to fend off ThunderClan and WindClan.
Fireheart paused to catch his breath, blinking blood from his eyes. Whitestorm was grappling with Leopardfur now, with Mousefur at his side. Sandstorm was battling with a RiverClan warrior almost twice her size. But her opponent was only half her speed. Fireheart watched Sandstorm nip and twist around him until the RiverClan warrior looked overwhelmed.
Dustpelt was fighting a smoky-black tom nearby. Fireheart recognized Blackclaw, the RiverClan warrior he had seen chasing rabbits in the uplands. Dustpelt was stubbornly refusing to be cowed by the blows and bites aimed at him. Each time he was struck, the young warrior turned and gave as good as he got. It looked as if he didn’t need any help, and Fireheart guessed Dustpelt would not thank him for interfering in this fight.
Where was Crookedstar? Fireheart searched the clearing for the RiverClan leader. It wasn’t hard to find him. Now that ShadowClan had run away, the clearing was less crowded. Fireheart soon spotted the light-colored tabby with the twisted jaw. He was crouching low, face-to-face with Tigerclaw. The two warriors stared at each other, their tails thrashing menacingly. Fireheart’s blood pounded through his veins as he waited for one of them to make a move. It was Crookedstar who leaped first, but Tigerclaw jumped nimbly aside and Crookedstar missed. Tigerclaw was more accurate; he turned and lunged at Crookedstar’s back. The ThunderClan warrior grasped the RiverClan leader with his long claws, and Crookedstar went limp beneath him. Fireheart watched breathlessly as Tigerclaw bared his teeth, lunged forward, and sank them deep into Crookedstar’s neck.
&n
bsp; Fireheart gasped. Had Tigerclaw really killed the RiverClan leader? Crookedstar’s pained screech told Fireheart that Tigerclaw had missed the spine. But it was a blow to win the battle. Tigerclaw released his opponent and let him race, yowling, toward the camp entrance. As soon as Crookedstar’s tail shot out of sight, his warriors struggled free and pelted after him.
In a heartbeat, the WindClan camp fell silent apart from the howling of the wind above the gorse. Fireheart stared around him. The ThunderClan warriors were tired and battered, but the WindClan cats looked far worse. Every one of them was bleeding, while some lay unmoving on the frozen ground. Barkface, their medicine cat, wasted no time in rushing from one cat to another, attending to their injuries.
Tallstar limped toward Tigerclaw, blood dripping from his cheek. As he watched the WindClan leader, Fireheart remembered his dream from moons ago—Tallstar had been silhouetted against a bright fire, like a warrior sent from StarClan to save them. “Fire will save the Clan,” according to Spottedleaf’s prophecy. But looking at the WindClan cats, exhausted and beaten, Fireheart wondered if his dream had misled him. How could these cats represent the fire that StarClan promised would save his Clan? Surely it was ThunderClan who had just saved WindClan—again?
Tallstar spoke quietly to Tigerclaw. Fireheart couldn’t hear the words they shared, but he could guess by Tallstar’s bowed head that the WindClan leader was acknowledging the debt he owed to ThunderClan. Tigerclaw sat up straight and accepted the thanks with his chin held high. Fireheart felt a wave of revulsion at the dark warrior’s arrogance. He would never forget that Tigerclaw had stood by and watched while Leopardfur had nearly ripped him to shreds.
“Here.” Fireheart was shaken from his thoughts by the soft voice of Willowpelt offering him a mouthful of the medicine cat’s herbs. Fireheart purred his thanks as Willowpelt began squeezing juice from the herbs into the bite marks on Fireheart’s shoulders. The juice stung, but the smell took him straight back to another time, with Spottedleaf. She had given him the same herb to treat Yellowfang so many moons ago. As the odor of the herbs wafted up, Fireheart remembered his dream from the night before. “Beware a warrior…” Spottedleaf had warned him. Beware a warrior?
