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Fireheart bent his head to touch noses with Bramblepaw. As he led the new apprentice back to the side of the clearing, Bramblepaw asked, “What do we do now, Fireheart? I want to learn everything—fighting and hunting and all about the other Clans….”
In spite of his misgivings, Fireheart had to admit that Bramblepaw clearly knew nothing about the old hostility between his mentor and his father. That was thanks to Goldenflower, who sat looking at them with an unreadable expression. Fireheart guessed she wouldn’t be too pleased that he had chosen to train Tigerstar’s son himself. And what would happen when Tigerstar found out? He could feel Darkstripe watching him closely and knew that the dark warrior would take the news to Tigerstar at the next Gathering, if not before.
“All in good time,” Fireheart promised the eager apprentice. “Tomorrow we’ll go with Brackenfur and your sister to tour the territory. Then you’ll learn where the borders are and how to recognize the scents of the other Clans.”
“Great!” Bramblepaw let out an excited squeak.
“But for now,” Fireheart went on as Bluestar drew the meeting to a close, “you can go and get to know the other apprentices. Don’t forget you sleep in their den tonight.”
He flicked his tail in dismissal, and Bramblepaw dashed off to his sister’s side as the other cats started to crowd around, congratulating the two new apprentices and calling them by their new names.
Watching them, Fireheart saw Graystripe get up and come toward him, passing Sandstorm on the way. He heard the ginger she-cat meow, “Graystripe, aren’t you sorry you weren’t given an apprentice?”
“In a way,” Graystripe replied. He sounded awkward, shooting Fireheart a sideways glance as he spoke. “I can’t expect one for a while, though. Half the Clan haven’t accepted me yet.”
“Then half the Clan are stupid furballs,” asserted Sandstorm, giving the gray warrior’s ear a lick.
Graystripe shrugged. “I know I’ll have to prove my loyalty before I can mentor an apprentice again. And you’ll have one soon,” he added, as if he could read her mind, “when Willowpelt’s kits are ready.”
An annoyed look flashed across Sandstorm’s face. Fireheart wondered whether he ought to try talking to her again, but as she spotted his hesitant approach she turned to Graystripe and meowed loudly, “Come on; let’s see if there’s any fresh-kill left.”
Fireheart halted and watched miserably as Sandstorm got to her paws and led the way over to the pile of prey. Graystripe followed her, casting a worried glance at Fireheart as he went.
Seeing Sandstorm turn her back on him, Fireheart felt bitter disappointment welling up inside him. However hard he tried, all his attempts to rekindle the old bond between him and Sandstorm seemed to be failing, and he missed her with a loneliness that could not be comforted by any of the other cats that thronged around him.
CHAPTER 21
“Keep well back,” Brackenfur warned. “This is a dangerous place.”
He and Fireheart, with their two apprentices, were standing at the edge of the Thunderpath. Bramblepaw and Tawnypaw wrinkled their noses against its bitter smell.
“It doesn’t look dangerous to me,” meowed Bramblepaw. Tentatively he reached out one paw to place it on the dark, stony surface.
At the same moment, Fireheart felt the ground tremble with the roar of an approaching monster. “Get back!” he snarled.
Bramblepaw leaped back into the safety of the verge as the monster flashed past, buffeting his fur with hot, stinking wind. He was quivering with shock.
Tawnypaw’s eyes were wide with astonishment. “What was that?” she mewed.
“A monster,” Fireheart explained. “They carry Twolegs in their belly. But they never leave the Thunderpath, so you’re quite safe—as long as you stay away from it.” He fixed Bramblepaw with a stern gaze. “When a warrior tells you to do something, you do it. Ask questions if you like, but afterward.” Bramblepaw nodded, scuffling his paws. “Sorry, Fireheart.”
He was already recovering from the shock; Fireheart had to admit that many more experienced cats would have been terrified to find themselves so close to a monster. Since they had left camp that morning, Bramblepaw had shown himself to be brave, curious, and eager to learn.
Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Whitestorm had gone out on the dawn patrol, while Fireheart and Brackenfur gave their apprentices the tour of the territory. Fireheart had found himself moving with extra stealth along the once-familiar trails, haunted by shadows and afraid at any moment that he would come face-to-face with the dark presence in the forest.
He had kept well away from Snakerocks, unwilling to risk that accursed place with two new apprentices. Soon, he knew, he would have to do something about the threat that lurked there, but he was waiting until Lostface was well enough to tell them exactly what had attacked her. And deep down Fireheart couldn’t help wondering if, even when they knew, his warriors would be able to deal with it.
“What’s over there?” Tawnypaw flicked her tail at the part of the forest on the other side of the Thunderpath.
“That’s ShadowClan territory,” Brackenfur told her. “Can you smell their scent?”
A chill breeze was carrying the scent of ShadowClan toward them. Bramblepaw and Tawnypaw opened their mouths to taste it.
“We’ve smelled that before,” announced Tawnypaw.
“Oh?” Brackenfur shot a startled glance at Fireheart.
“When Darkstripe brought us to the border to meet our father,” explained Bramblepaw.
“I spotted them.” Fireheart wanted Brackenfur to know that this wasn’t news to him. “I suppose we can’t blame Tigerstar for wanting to see them,” he added, forcing himself to be charitable.
Brackenfur didn’t reply, but he looked faintly worried, as if he shared Fireheart’s misgivings about Tigerstar’s relationship with these ThunderClan kits.
“Can we go over there now and see our father?” Tawnypaw asked eagerly.
“No!” Brackenfur sounded shocked. “Clan cats don’t go into each other’s territory. If a patrol caught us, there would be big trouble.”
“Not if we told them Tigerstar’s our father,” Bramblepaw insisted. “He wanted to see us last time.”
“Brackenfur told you no,” Fireheart snapped. “And if I catch either of you setting one paw across the border, I’ll have your tails off!”
Tawnypaw jumped back as if she thought he was going to carry out the threat there and then.
Bramblepaw’s amber eyes searched Fireheart’s face for several heartbeats. “Fireheart,” he meowed hesitantly, “there’s something else, isn’t there? Why will no cat talk to us about our father? Why did he leave ThunderClan?”
Fireheart stared down at his apprentice. He couldn’t see any way of avoiding such a direct question. Long ago, he had promised Goldenflower that he would tell her kits the
truth, but he had hoped for a bit more time to think out exactly what he would say.
He exchanged a quick glance with Brackenfur, and the younger warrior murmured, “If you don’t tell them, some other cat will.”
He was right, Fireheart realized. The time had come for him to fulfill his promise to Goldenflower. Clearing his throat, he meowed, “All right. Let’s find a place to rest and I’ll tell you.”
He retreated several rabbit-hops from the Thunderpath until he came to a dip in the ground sheltered by a few clumps of fern, brown and broken now in the frosts of leaf-bare. The two apprentices followed, their eyes wide and curious.
Fireheart checked that there was no smell of dog before settling down in a patch of dry grass, tucking his paws under his chest. Brackenfur remained at the top of the slope, keeping watch for danger, from the dog or from ShadowClan territory so close by.
“Before I tell you about your father,” Fireheart began, “I want you to remember that ThunderClan is proud of you. You’ll both make fine warriors. What I’m going to say now won’t make any difference to that.”
The apprentices’ curiosity changed to uneasiness as they listened. Fireheart knew they must be wondering what was coming next.
“Tigerstar is a great warrior,” he went on. “And he always wanted to be leader of a Clan. Before he left ThunderClan, he was deputy.”
Bramblepaw’s eyes glowed excitedly. “When I’m a warrior, I’d like to be deputy too.”
Fireheart’s fur prickled at this evidence of his apprentice’s ambition, so like Tigerstar’s. “Be quiet and listen.”
Bramblepaw dipped his head obediently.
“As I said, Tigerstar has always been a great warrior,” Fireheart continued, forcing each word into the cold air. “But there was a fight with RiverClan over Sunningrocks, and Tigerstar used the battle to kill Redtail, who was the ThunderClan deputy then. He blamed a RiverClan warrior, but we found out what really happened.”
