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“Do you wish to leave the Clan?”
“Of course not!” Firepaw was shocked by her question.
Bluestar didn’t seem to hear the passion in his answer. She shook her head, looking suddenly old and tired. “I won’t judge you if you leave us, Firepaw. Perhaps I expected too much of you. Perhaps my judgment has been clouded by the Clan’s need for new warriors.”
Panic swept through Firepaw at the thought of leaving the Clan forever. “But my place is here! This is my home,” he protested.
“I need more than that, Firepaw. I need to be able to trust in your loyalty to ThunderClan, especially now that it looks like ShadowClan is planning an attack. We don’t have room for anyone who isn’t sure whether their heart lies in the past or the present.”
Firepaw took a deep breath and chose his next words carefully. “When I saw Smudge today—that’s the house cat Tigerclaw saw me talking with—I saw what life would have been like if I had stayed with the Twolegs. I felt happy that I had not stayed. I was proud I left.” He held Bluestar’s gaze without flinching. “Meeting Smudge made me certain I made the right decision. I could never have been satisfied with the soft life of a kittypet.”
Bluestar looked closely at him for a moment, her eyes narrow. Then she nodded. “Very well,” she said. “I believe you.”
Firepaw dipped his head respectfully and let out a silent sigh of relief.
“I spoke to Yellowfang earlier,” meowed Bluestar in a lighter tone. “She thinks a lot of you. She’s a wise old she-cat, you know. And I suspect she wasn’t always bad-tempered. Indeed, I think that I could grow to like her.”
Firepaw felt an unexpected glow of pleasure at these words. Maybe, in caring for Yellowfang, his admiration for her had grown into affection, despite the she-cat’s ill temper. Whatever the reason, he was glad Bluestar liked her too.
“But there is something about her that I don’t trust,” Bluestar went on quietly. “She will stay with ThunderClan for now, but remain as a prisoner. The queens will care for her. You must concentrate on your training.”
Firepaw nodded and waited to be dismissed, but Bluestar hadn’t finished. “Firepaw, although you showed bad judgment today in talking to a house cat, Tigerclaw was impressed by your hunting skills. In fact, he reported that you all did well. I am pleased with your progress. You will come to the Gathering—all three of you.”
Firepaw could hardly stand still. His body tingled with excitement. The Gathering! “What about Sandpaw and Dustpaw?” he mewed.
“They will remain behind and guard the camp,” replied Bluestar. “Now you may go.” She flicked her long tail to show he was dismissed, and returned to her grooming.
Graypaw and Ravenpaw looked stunned to see Firepaw bounding happily toward them. They had been waiting nervously for him beside the tree stump. Firepaw sat down and looked at his friends.
“Well?” Graypaw demanded. “What did she say?”
“Tigerclaw told us you’d been sharing tongues with a kittypet this morning,” burst out Ravenpaw. “Are you in trouble?”
“No. Although Bluestar wasn’t pleased,” Firepaw admitted ruefully. “She thought I might want to leave ThunderClan.”
“You don’t, do you?” asked Ravenpaw.
“Of course he doesn’t!” mewed Graypaw.
Firepaw gave his gray friend an affectionate swipe. “Yeah, you’d hate that. You need me to catch mice for you! All you can catch these days are hairy old squirrels!”
Graypaw dodged out of the way of Firepaw’s blow, and reared up on his back legs to retaliate.
“You’ll never guess what else she said!” Firepaw went on. He was too excited to waste time play-fighting.
Graypaw immediately dropped back onto all four paws. “What?” he asked.
“We’re going to the Gathering!”
Graypaw let out a yowl of delight and bounded up onto the tree stump. One of his back paws knocked the adder flying. It hit Ravenpaw on the head and wrapped itself around his neck.
Ravenpaw spat with alarm and surprise, and then turned on Graypaw. “Watch it!” he hissed crossly. He shook the adder onto the ground.
“Scared it might try to bite you?” Firepaw teased. He crouched down, hissing, and sidled up to Ravenpaw.
Ravenpaw twitched his whiskers and retorted, “Some snake you’d make!” He leaped onto Firepaw and rolled him easily onto his back.
Graypaw reached down from the tree stump and gave Ravenpaw’s tail a tug. As Ravenpaw turned to thump Graypaw with a soft forepaw, Firepaw jumped to his feet and leaped into them both, sending Graypaw flying from the stump. All three cats tumbled into the dirt and tussled on the ground. Finally they fell apart and settled themselves, panting, beside the tree stump.
“Are Sandpaw and Dustpaw coming too?” puffed Graypaw.
“Nope!” Firepaw replied, unable to disguise the note of triumph in his voice. “They have to stay behind and guard the camp.”
“Oh, let me tell them!” begged Graypaw. “I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces!”
“Me neither!” Firepaw agreed. “I can’t believe we’re going instead of them! Especially after Tigerclaw saw me with Smudge today!”
“That was just bad luck,” answered Graypaw. “We all caught a load of prey in the assessment. That must be what decided it.”
“I wonder what the Gathering will be like,” mewed Ravenpaw.
“It’ll be fantastic,” Graypaw replied confidently. “I bet all the great warriors will be there. Clawface, Stonefur…”
But Firepaw wasn’t listening anymore. Instead, he found himself thinking about Tigerclaw and Smudge. Graypaw was right—it was bad luck that the great warrior had been observing him when he had met his old friend. Why couldn’t he have been watching Graypaw or Ravenpaw instead? In fact, it was bad luck that Tigerclaw had sent him so near the Twolegplace at all.
Suddenly a dark thought entered Firepaw’s mind: Why had Tigerclaw sent him so near his old haunts? Had he wanted to test him? Could it be the great dark warrior didn’t trust his loyalty to ThunderClan?
CHAPTER 12
Firepaw peered over the brow of a bush-covered slope. Graypaw and Ravenpaw crouched beside him. Next to them a group of ThunderClan elders, queens, and warriors waited in the undergrowth for Bluestar to give the signal.
Firepaw had not been to this place since his first journey with Lionheart and Tigerclaw. The steep-sided glade looked different now. The rich greenness of the woods had been bleached away by the cold light of the full moon, and the leaves on the trees glowed silver. At the bottom stood the large oaks that marked where the corner of each Clan’s territory touched the other three.
The air was thick with the warm scents of cats from the other Clans. Firepaw could see them quite clearly in the moonlight, moving about below in the grassy clearing that lay between the four oaks. In the center of the clearing, a large, jagged rock rose from the forest floor like a broken tooth.
“Look at all those cats down there!”
hissed Ravenpaw under his breath.
“There’s Crookedstar!” Graypaw hissed back. “RiverClan’s leader.”
“Where?” Firepaw mewed, nudging Graypaw impatiently.
“That light-colored tabby, beside the Great Rock.”
Firepaw followed Graypaw’s nod and saw a huge tom, even bigger than Lionheart, sitting at the center of the clearing. His striped coat shone pale in the moonlight. Even from this distance, his old face showed the signs of a harsh life, and his mouth looked twisted, as if it had once been broken and had healed badly.
“Hey!” mewed Graypaw. “Did you see Sandpaw spit when I told her I hoped she had a nice evening at home?”
“You bet!” Firepaw purred.
Ravenpaw interrupted them with a muffled growl. “Look! There’s Brokenstar—ShadowClan’s leader,” he hissed.
Firepaw looked down at the dark brown tabby. His fur was unusually long and his face was broad and flattened. There was a stillness in the way he sat and stared around him that made Firepaw’s fur prickle uncomfortably.
“He looks pretty nasty,” Firepaw muttered.
“Yeah,” agreed Graypaw. “He’s certainly got a reputation among all the Clans for not suffering fools gladly. And he’s not been leader that long—four moons, ever since his father, Raggedstar, died.”
“What does the leader of WindClan look like?” Firepaw asked.
“Tallstar? I’ve never seen him, but I know he’s black and white with a very long tail,” answered Graypaw.
“Can you see him now?” asked Ravenpaw.
Graypaw peered down, searching the crowd of cats below. “Nope!”
“Can you scent any WindClan cats?” Firepaw asked.
Graypaw shook his head. “No.”
Lionheart’s meow sounded softly beside them. “The WindClan cats may just be late.”
“But what if they don’t turn up at all?” mewed Graypaw.
“Hush! We must all be patient. These are difficult times. Now keep quiet. Bluestar will give the signal to move soon,” Lionheart meowed quietly.
