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“Water vole,” the gray warrior hissed. Sure enough, a small vole was scampering along the ice, near the bank.
Fireheart glanced at Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw, afraid that they might try to catch this tiny piece of prey. But neither apprentice moved. Fireheart felt relieved for a moment, and then his heart lurched as Graystripe dashed out onto the ice at hunting speed.
“Come back!” Fireheart hissed.
It was too late. The ice beneath Graystripe’s paws gave a terrifying crack and broke. With a startled yowl, Graystripe fell into the water. He paddled madly for a moment before disappearing into the cold, dark depths of the river.
Brackenpaw stared in horror and Cinderpaw gave a desperate mew. Fireheart didn’t quiet her. He was rigid with fear, staring into the water after his friend. Was Graystripe trapped underneath the ice? Fireheart stepped onto the ice. It felt cold and slippery beneath his paws, impossible to run on. He jumped back onto the bank. Panic gripped him, then a blaze of relief as a drenched gray head appeared in the water farther along.
But relief turned to alarm as Fireheart saw that Graystripe was being carried downriver, turning and bobbing in the freezing waters. His paws thrashed helplessly, all his instincts to swim thwarted by the fierce current. Fireheart bounded along the bank, forcing his way through the bracken, but Graystripe was swept farther and farther away.
Suddenly Fireheart heard a yowl from the opposite bank and stopped. A slender silver tabby had leaped onto the ice farther downstream. She padded lightly over the frozen sheet and slid into the river ahead of Graystripe. Amazed, Fireheart watched the she-cat swim strongly against the current, holding her position in the icy water with confident churning paws. As Graystripe was swept past, the tabby grabbed a mouthful of his fur between her teeth.
But to Fireheart’s horror, Graystripe’s weight pulled both cats under. He started running again, his eyes fixed on the river. Where were they? Then a silver-striped head appeared amid the rolling waters, pushing through the waves. The tabby was swimming against the current, dragging Graystripe with her. Fireheart could hardly believe that such a slender cat could swim with such a weight. The tabby grabbed the ice on Fireheart’s side of the river with her forepaws, her neck craning awkwardly as she held Graystripe between her teeth. Slipping and sliding, she hauled herself out of the river. Graystripe hung limply in the water, twisting and turning as the current dragged at his fur, but the tabby kept a firm grip.
Fireheart slid down the bank, raced across the ice, and skidded to a halt beside her. Without a word he reached forward and took hold of Graystripe in his teeth. Together the two cats heaved his soaking body out of the water and dragged him to the safety of the riverbank.
Fireheart bent over his friend to see if he was breathing. He felt dizzy with relief as he saw Graystripe’s slick gray flank rising and falling. Graystripe coughed and spluttered and spat out a mouthful of river water. Then he lay still.
“Graystripe!” Fireheart meowed urgently.
“I’m okay,” wheezed Graystripe. His mew was breathless, but reassuring.
Fireheart sighed and sat down. He looked closely at the silver tabby. She carried the scent of RiverClan on her. After seeing her swim, Fireheart wasn’t surprised. The tabby returned his gaze coldly, shook herself, and sat down, her sides heaving as she got her breath back. Water streamed from her glossy fur as if her pelt were made from duck feathers.
Graystripe turned his head and looked at his rescuer. “Thanks,” he croaked.
“You idiot!” she spat, flattening her ears. “What are you doing in my territory?”
“Drowning?” replied Graystripe.
The silver tabby flicked her ears, and Fireheart saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Can’t you drown yourself in your own territory?”
Graystripe’s whiskers twitched. “Ah, but who would rescue me there?” he rasped.
There was a tiny mew behind Fireheart. He turned to see Cinderpaw crouching by a clump of grass farther up the bank. “Where’s Brackenpaw?” he asked.
“Just coming,” answered Cinderpaw, pointing with her nose. Her brother was creeping nervously along the bank toward them.
Fireheart sighed and turned to his friend. “Look, Graystripe, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“I know.” Graystripe pushed himself to his paws and turned to the silver tabby. “Thanks again.”
She dipped her head graciously, but hissed, “Hurry, go now!” She looked over her shoulder. “If my father knew that I’d rescued a ThunderClan intruder he’d shred me for kit bedding!”
“Why’d you save me then?” teased Graystripe.
The tabby looked away. “Instinct. I couldn’t watch any cat drown. Now go away!”
Fireheart stood up. “Thanks. I’d have missed this furball if he’d drowned.” He nudged Graystripe. His friend hadn’t even shaken the icy water from his fur and he was soaked to the skin. “Come on, let’s get back to camp. You’re freezing!”
“Okay, I’m coming!” Graystripe meowed. But before he followed Fireheart up the slope, he turned back to the silver she-cat. “What’s your name? Mine’s Graystripe.”
“Silverstream,” she replied, and bounded away, back onto the ice and over the channel of water to the far side.
Fireheart and Graystripe led their apprentices through the bracken, toward the border. Fireheart couldn’t help noticing that Graystripe looked back over his shoulder more than once.
Cinderpaw noticed too. The little gray cat glanced up, mischief dancing in her eyes. “What a pretty RiverClan cat she was!”
Graystripe gave her a playful cuff around the ear and she ran on ahead.
“Stay with us,” Fireheart warned in a loud hiss. They were still in RiverClan territory. He flashed Cinderpaw an angry look as she stopped and waited for them. If it weren’t for her, they wouldn’t be here at all, and Graystripe wouldn’t have nearly drowned. He looked at his wet friend. Even though the gray warrior had shaken as much of the water from his fur as he could, his coat was still dripping and ice was beginning to form on the ends of his whiskers.
Fireheart quickened the pace. “Are you okay?” he asked Graystripe.
“F-f-fine!” replied Graystripe, through chattering teeth.
“Sorry,” mewed Cinderpaw softly as she fell into step behind Fireheart.
He sighed. “It’s not your fault.” He felt weighed down with worry. How were they going to explain this to the Clan? No fresh-kill for the elders—there wasn’t time to go back for the vole now—and a soaked Graystripe. Fireheart shuddered as he thought how close he had come to losing his closest friend. Thank StarClan that Silverstream had been there to save him.
“The stream near the training hollow is still running with water,” Brackenpaw meowed thoughtfully from the back.
“What?” asked Fireheart, puzzled out of his gloomy thoughts.
“The Clan will probably assume that Graystripe fell in there,” continued the young apprentice.
“We could say he was showing us how to catch fish,” Cinderpaw added.
“I’m not sure any cat would believe Graystripe would get his paws wet on purpose in this weather,” Fireheart pointed out.
“Well, I don’t want the rest of the Clan to know I had to be rescued by a RiverClan cat!” meowed Graystripe with a flash of his old spirit. “And we can’t let them know we were in RiverClan’s territory again.”
Fireheart nodded. “Come on,” he meowed. “Let’s run the rest of the way; it’ll help Graystripe warm up.”
The cats raced across the RiverClan border and past Sunningrocks. As the sun began to dip behind the treetops, they arrived back outside the camp.
Graystripe’s fur had dried a little, but frozen droplets hung on his whiskers and tail.
Fireheart led the way through the gorse entrance. His heart sank when he saw Tigerclaw sitting in the clearing watching them.
The deputy fixed his sharp eyes on Fireheart. “No fresh-kill?” he growled. “I thought y
ou were meant to be teaching these two how to hunt today. You look half-drowned, Graystripe. You must have fallen into a river to get that wet.” His nostrils flared and he drew himself up to his full height. “Don’t tell me you’ve been into RiverClan territory again!”
CHAPTER 12
Fireheart lifted his head, about to speak, but Cinderpaw beat him to it.
“It’s my fault, Tigerclaw.” She stared boldly up at the great tabby. “We were hunting on the frozen stream by the training hollow, on the bend by the deep pool. Even that bit was frozen. I slipped and Graystripe came to help me, but the ice wasn’t thick enough for him and it cracked and he fell into the water.” Tigerclaw looked into her clear, bright eyes as she added, “It really is deep there. Fireheart had to pull him out.”
Fireheart cringed, remembering how he had stood motionless with terror at the sight of Graystripe disappearing into the river.
Tigerclaw nodded and looked at Graystripe. “You’d better get yourself to Yellowfang before you freeze to death.” The ThunderClan deputy stood up and stalked away, and Fireheart breathed a sigh of relief.
Graystripe didn’t hesitate. The long run home hadn’t stopped his teeth from chattering. He bounded away to Yellowfang’s den. Brackenpaw glanced at Cinderpaw and padded off to his nest, his tail drooping with exhaustion.
Fireheart looked at Cinderpaw. “Aren’t you even a bit frightened by Tigerclaw?” he asked curiously.
