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Fireheart was turning away, ready to go back on hunting duty, when a loud meow sounded behind him. He whirled around.
Shouldering his way out of the warriors’ den was the Clan deputy, Tigerclaw. “Fireheart!”
Fireheart padded through the snow toward him, respectfully lowering his head, but conscious that the huge tabby’s amber eyes burned into him. All his misgivings about Tigerclaw flooded through him again. The deputy was strong, respected, and an outstanding fighter, but Fireheart knew there was darkness in his heart.
“You don’t need to go out hunting again tonight,” Tigerclaw growled as Fireheart approached. “Bluestar has chosen you and Graystripe to go to the Gathering.”
Fireheart’s ears twitched with excitement. It was an honor to accompany the Clan leader to the Gathering, where all four Clans met in peace at full moon.
“You had better eat now,” added the dark-coated deputy. “We leave at moonrise.” He began to stalk across the clearing toward the Highrock, where Bluestar, the Clan leader, had her den; then he paused and swiveled his massive head to look back at Fireheart. “Just make sure you remember which Clan you belong to at the Gathering,” he hissed.
Fireheart felt his fur bristle as anger flared inside him. “What makes you say that?” he demanded boldly. “Do you think I would be disloyal to my own Clan?”
Tigerclaw turned to face him, and Fireheart tried hard not to flinch at the menace in the cat’s tensed shoulders. “I saw you in the last battle.” The deputy’s voice was a low growl, and his ears were flattened against his head as he spat, “I saw you let that RiverClan warrior escape.”
Fireheart winced, his mind flashing back to the battle in the WindClan camp. What Tigerclaw said was true. Fireheart had allowed a RiverClan warrior to flee without a scratch, but not out of cowardice or disloyalty. The warrior had been Silverstream. Unknown to the rest of ThunderClan, Fireheart’s best friend, Graystripe, was in love with her, and Fireheart could not bring himself to wound her.
Fireheart had done his best to talk his friend out of visiting Silverstream—their relationship went against the warrior code and put both of them in grave danger. But Fireheart also knew that he would never betray Graystripe.
Besides, Tigerclaw had no right to accuse any cat of disloyalty. He had stood on the edge of the battle, watching while Fireheart fought for his life against another RiverClan warrior, and turned away instead of helping him. And that was not the worst accusation Fireheart could make against the deputy. He suspected Tigerclaw of murdering the former ThunderClan deputy, Redtail, and even planning to get rid of their leader herself.
“If you think I’m disloyal, tell Bluestar,” he meowed challengingly.
Tigerclaw drew back his lips in a snarl and dropped into a half crouch, sliding out his long claws. “I don’t need to bother Bluestar,” he hissed. “I can deal with a kittypet like you.”
He stared at Fireheart for a moment longer. Fireheart realized with a jolt that there was a trace of fear as well as distrust in the blazing amber eyes. Tigerclaw wonders how much I know, he thought suddenly.
Fireheart’s friend Ravenpaw, Tigerclaw’s own apprentice, had witnessed the murder of Redtail. Tigerclaw had tried to kill him to keep him quiet, so Fireheart had taken him to live with Barley, a loner who lived near a Twoleg farm on the other side of WindClan’s territory. Fireheart had tried to tell Ravenpaw’s story to Bluestar, but the Clan leader refused to believe that her brave deputy could be guilty of such a thing. As he glared at Tigerclaw, Fireheart’s frustration returned; he felt as if a tree had fallen and pinned him to the ground.
Without another word, Tigerclaw swung around and stalked away. As Fireheart watched him go, there was a rustling from inside the warriors’ den, and Graystripe poked his head out through the branches.
“What on earth are you doing?” he meowed. “Picking fights with Tigerclaw like that! He’ll turn you into crowfood!”
“No cat has the right to call me disloyal,” Fireheart argued.
Graystripe bent his head and gave his chest fur a couple of quick licks. “I’m sorry, Fireheart,” he muttered. “I know this is all because of me and Silverstream—”
“No, it isn’t,” Fireheart interrupted, “and you know it. Tigerclaw’s the problem, not you.” He shook himself, scattering snow from his coat. “Come on; let’s eat.”
Graystripe pushed the rest of the way out and bounded toward the pile of fresh-kill. Fireheart followed him, picked out a vole, and carried it back to the warriors’ den to eat. Graystripe crouched beside him, near the outer curtain of branches.
Whitestorm and a couple of other senior warriors were curled up asleep in the center of the bush, but otherwise the den was empty. Their sleeping bodies warmed the air, and barely any snow had penetrated the thick canopy of branches.
Fireheart took a mouthful of vole. The meat was tough and stringy, but he was so hungry that it tasted delicious. It was gone far too quickly, but it was better than nothing, and it would give him the strength he needed to travel to the Gathering.
When Graystripe had finished his meal in a few ravenous gulps, the two cats lay close together, grooming each other’s cold fur. It was a relief to Fireheart to share tongues like this with Graystripe again, after the troubling time when it seemed that Graystripe’s love for Silverstream would destroy his friendship with Fireheart. Even though Fireheart still worried about his friend’s forbidden affair, since the battle he and Graystripe had rekindled their friendship so it was as close as before. They needed to trust each other if they were to survive the long season of leaf-bare, and even more than that, Fireheart knew he needed Graystripe’s support against Tigerclaw’s growing hostility.
“I wonder what news we’ll hear tonight,” he murmured in his friend’s gray ear. “I hope RiverClan and ShadowClan have learned their lesson. WindClan won’t be driven out of their territory again.”
Graystripe shifted uncomfortably. “The battle wasn’t just greed for territory,” he pointed out. “Prey is even scarcer than usual—RiverClan are starving since the Twolegs moved into their territory.”
“I know.” Fireheart flicked his ears in reluctant sympathy, understanding that his friend would want to defend Silverstream’s Clan. “But forcing another Clan out of their territory isn’t the answer.”
Graystripe muttered agreement, and then fell silent. Fireheart knew how he must’ve felt. It was only a few moons since they had crossed the Thunderpath to find WindClan and to bring them home. Yet Graystripe was bound to sympathize with RiverClan too, because of his love for Silverstream. There were no easy answers. The shortage of prey would be a desperate problem for all four Clans, at least until leaf-bare relaxed its cruel grip on the forest.
Growing drowsy under the steady rasp of Graystripe’s tongue, Fireheart jumped at the rustle of branches outside the den. Tigerclaw entered, followed by Darkstripe and Longtail. All three of them glowered at Fireheart as they settled in a huddle closer to the center of the bush. Fireheart watched them through slitted eyes, wishing that he could make out their conversation. It was too easy to imagine they were plotting against him. Fireheart’s muscles tensed as he realized that he would never be safe within his own Clan while Tigerclaw’s treachery remained a secret.
“What’s the matter?” asked Graystripe, lifting his head.
Fireheart stretched, trying to relax again. “I don’t trust them,” he murmured, flicking his ears in the direction of Tigerclaw and the others.
“I don’t blame you,” meowed Graystripe. “If Tigerclaw ever found out about Silverstream…” He shuddered.
Fireheart pressed closer to his side, comforting him, while his ears still strained to catch what Tigerclaw was saying. He thought he heard his own name, and was tempted to creep a little closer, but just then he caught Longtail’s eye.
“What are you staring at, kittypet?” hissed the tabby warrior. “ThunderClan only wants loyal cats.” Deliberately he turned his back on Fireheart.
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nbsp; Fireheart sprang to his paws at once. “And who gave you the right to question our loyalty?” he spat.
Longtail ignored him.
“That does it!” Fireheart mewed in a fierce undertone to Graystripe. “It’s obvious that Tigerclaw is spreading rumors about me.”
“But what can you do?” Graystripe sounded resigned to the deputy’s hostility.
“I want to talk to Ravenpaw again,” Fireheart meowed. “He might remember something else about the battle, something I could use to convince Bluestar.”
“But Ravenpaw lives at the Twoleg farm now. You’d have to go all the way across WindClan territory. How would you explain being out of the camp for so long? It would only make Tigerclaw’s lies seem like the truth.”
Fireheart knew he was willing to take that risk. He had never asked Ravenpaw for any details about how Redtail had died in the battle against RiverClan all those moons ago. At the time it had seemed more important to get the apprentice out of Tigerclaw’s way.
Now he knew that he had to find out exactly what Ravenpaw saw. Because he was becoming more and more certain that his friend must know something that could prove just how dangerous Tigerclaw was to the Clan.
