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“Yes, Darkstripe,” Firepaw mewed, dipping his head submissively. He turned and muttered “Dirtstripe!” under his breath, then headed toward the camp boundary, where he could see Graypaw and Ravenpaw busily patching a large hole in the wall of greenery.
“How’s Yellowfang?” asked Graypaw as Firepaw trotted up.
“She’s fine. She said wild garlic would be good for my rat bites. I was on my way to find some, but Darkstripe ordered me to stay in camp,” Firepaw told him.
“Wild garlic?” mewed Graypaw. “I wouldn’t mind trying that. My leg still stings.”
“I could sneak out and get some,” Firepaw offered. He had resented Darkstripe’s offhand treatment and welcomed the chance to outwit him. “No one would notice if I slipped out of this hole here. It’d only take a couple of rabbit hops.”
Ravenpaw frowned, but Graypaw nodded. “We’ll cover for you,” he whispered.
Firepaw nuzzled him gratefully and jumped out through the tear in the boundary wall.
Once outside the camp, he began to make his way to the wild garlic patch, the sharp tang alerting him easily to its location. The moon was rising in the violet sky as the sun sank below the horizon. A cold breeze ruffled Firepaw’s fur. Suddenly he caught a cat-scent carried toward him on the wind. He sniffed cautiously. ShadowClan? No, just Tigerclaw, and two other cats. He sniffed the air again. Darkstripe and Longtail! What were they doing here?
Curious, Firepaw dropped into a stalking position. He prowled through the undergrowth paw by paw, keeping downwind so that he was not detected. The warriors were standing in the shadow of a clump of ferns, their heads very close together. Soon Firepaw was near enough to hear them speak.
“StarClan knows, my apprentice has shown little promise from the start, but I never expected him to turn traitor!” growled Tigerclaw.
Firepaw’s eyes widened and his fur prickled with shock. It sounded like Tigerclaw intended to do more than just hint that Ravenpaw had betrayed the Clan!
“How long did you say Ravenpaw was missing on the journey to Mothermouth?” asked Darkstripe.
“Long enough to have traveled to ShadowClan’s camp and back,” came the deputy’s menacing answer.
The fur on Firepaw’s tail bristled angrily. That’s impossible! he thought. He was with us the whole time!
Longtail’s voice sounded now, high-pitched with excitement: “He must have told them that ThunderClan’s leader and the strongest warrior had left the camp. Why else would they attack when they did?”
“We are the last Clan to stand against ShadowClan. We must remain strong,” purred Tigerclaw. His tone had become velvety soft now. He waited in silence for a response.
It was Darkstripe who answered, eagerly, as if he were still Tigerclaw’s apprentice, giving the correct answer to a question on hunting techniques. His words made Firepaw breathless with fear. “And the Clan would be better off without a traitor like Ravenpaw.”
“I have to say I agree with you, Darkstripe,” murmured Tigerclaw, his voice heavy with emotion. “Even though he’s my own apprentice…” He trailed off as if he were too upset to say any more.
Firepaw had heard enough. Forgetting all about the wild garlic, he turned and crept as silently and as quickly as he could back toward the camp.
He decided not to tell Ravenpaw what he had heard. He would be terrified. Firepaw’s mind raced. What could he do? Tigerclaw was the Clan deputy, a great warrior, and popular with all of the other cats. No one was going to listen to any accusations made by an apprentice. But Ravenpaw was in terrible danger. Firepaw shook himself, trying to clear his head. There was only one thing to do—he must tell what he had heard to Bluestar, and somehow convince her that he was telling the truth!
CHAPTER 19
Graypaw and Ravenpaw were still patching the hole when Firepaw reached them. They had left a gap just wide enough for him to squeeze back through.
“No luck with the garlic,” Firepaw panted as he slipped in. “Darkstripe’s prowling around out there.”
“Never mind,” mewed Graypaw. “We can get some tomorrow.”
“I’ll go and get you some poppy from Spottedleaf,” Firepaw offered. He was worried by the dull look in his friend’s eyes, and the way his muscles seemed stiff with pain.
“No, don’t worry,” mewed Graypaw. “I’ll be fine.”
“It’s no trouble,” Firepaw insisted, and before Graypaw could argue, he bounded off toward Spottedleaf’s den.
She was pacing her small clearing, her eyes clouded with unhappiness.
“Are you okay?” Firepaw asked.
“The spirits of StarClan are restless. I think they are trying to tell me something,” she replied, flicking her tail uneasily. “What can I do for you?”
“I think Graypaw could do with some poppy seeds for his leg,” Firepaw explained. “His rat bites are still hurting him.”
“The pain of losing Lionheart will make his injuries feel worse. But he’ll mend in time; don’t worry. In the meantime, you’re right, poppy seeds will help.” Spottedleaf went into her den and brought out a dried poppy head. She placed it carefully on the ground. “Just shake out one or two and give them to him,” she meowed.
“Thanks,” Firepaw mewed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Go and see to your friend,” answered Spottedleaf, avoiding his gaze.
Firepaw picked up the poppy head between his teeth and began to walk away.
“Wait,” Spottedleaf hissed suddenly.
Firepaw spun around expectantly and met her tawny gaze. Her eyes burned back at him.
“Firepaw,” she hissed. “StarClan spoke to me moons ago, before you joined the Clan. I sense they want me to tell you this now. They said only fire can save our Clan.”
Firepaw stared at Spottedleaf, mystified.
The strange passion faded from her eyes. “Take care, Firepaw,” she meowed in her normal voice, and turned away.
“See you,” Firepaw replied uncertainly. He padded back through the fern tunnel. Her strange words were echoing in his mind, but he could not make sense of them. Why had she shared them with him? Surely fire was an enemy to all who lived in the forest. He shook his head in frustration, and bounded over to the apprentices’ den.
“Graypaw!” Firepaw hissed into the ear of his sleeping friend. They’d been allowed to rest all morning, after working on repairs for most of the night. Tigerclaw had ordered them to be ready to begin training at sunhigh. The strong yellow light filtering through to the den told Firepaw it was already near that now.
He’d had a restless night. Dreams swirled through his mind each time he fell asleep, confusing and indistinct, but full of darkness and menace.
“Graypaw!” Firepaw hissed again. But his friend did not stir. He’d eaten two of the poppy seeds before he’d slept, and now he was in a deep slumber.
“Are you awake, Firepaw?” Ravenpaw mewed from his nest.
Firepaw spat silently under his breath. He had wanted to talk to Graypaw before Ravenpaw awoke.
“Yes!” he replied.
Ravenpaw sat up in his bed of moss and heather and began to wash with quick flicks of his tongue. “Are you going to wake him?” he asked, nodding toward Graypaw.
A deep voice growled outside their den. “I hope so! Training is about to start.”
Firepaw and Ravenpaw jumped.
“Graypaw, wake up!” Firepaw poked his friend with one paw. “Tigerclaw is waiting!”
Graypaw lifted his head. His eyes were still heavy with sleep.
“Are you ready yet?” called Tigerclaw.
Firepaw and Ravenpaw crept out of the den, blinking as they emerged into the sunlight.
