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Graypool!
Fireheart opened his jaws to call out to her, and closed them again without making a sound. The old cat had crossed the bridge and was tottering along the very edge of the river. He was afraid that if she heard a strange cat calling to her, she would slip and fall to her death. Instead he began to make his way down the slope, creeping carefully under cover of the rocks in a hunting crouch so she would not see him and be startled.
After a few moments, he saw to his relief that Graypool had turned away from the river and was trying to climb the steep slope toward Fourtrees. Her claws scrabbled feebly on the boulders, and Fireheart wondered where she thought she was going. Did she imagine it was full moon and she was on her way to a Gathering?
Fireheart straightened up and opened his mouth once more to call to her, but again he bit back her name and slipped rapidly into the shelter of the nearest rock. Another cat had appeared, bounding confidently from the direction of Fourtrees. There was no mistaking that huge, muscular body and dark tabby coat.
It was Tigerstar!
CHAPTER 7
Fireheart peered out from behind his rock. Tigerstar had spotted Graypool and had changed direction toward her. As the dark tabby approached, Graypool reared back in surprise and fell, only to struggle back onto her paws and face Tigerstar. The ShadowClan leader padded up to her and meowed something, but Fireheart was too far away to make out the words.
Flattening his belly to the ground, he crept toward them, using all his hunting skills to stay undetected. Fortunately the wind was blowing toward him, so Tigerstar was unlikely to scent him. Fireheart was unwilling to meet the ShadowClan leader unless he had to. With any luck, Tigerstar was on his way to visit Leopardfur again and would help Graypool back to the RiverClan camp.
Fireheart prowled closer, flattening himself against the turf until he reached the shelter of another rock almost on a level with the other two cats. Graystripe had said that Tigerstar had visited RiverClan the day before. Why should he need to return so soon?
“Don’t pretend you don’t know me.” Fireheart hardly recognized the quavering voice as Graypool’s. “I know who you are, right enough. You’re Oakheart.”
Fireheart stiffened. Oakheart was the name of the cat who fathered Mistyfoot and Stonefur, and took them to RiverClan when Bluestar gave them up. He had been killed in battle just before Fireheart joined ThunderClan, but he had looked a little like Tigerstar—a big tom with a dark pelt.
With infinite caution, Fireheart raised his head to peer over the rock where he was sheltering. Graypool was crouched on a sparse patch of grass just above an outcrop of stones. She was looking up at Tigerstar, who loomed over her a couple of tail-lengths farther up the slope.
“I haven’t seen you for moons,” Graypool went on. “Where have you been hiding yourself?”
Tigerstar stared down at her with narrowed eyes. Fireheart waited for him to tell the elderly she-cat that she had made a mistake. His blood ran cold when Tigerstar just meowed, “Oh…here and there.”
What in StarClan’s name is he playing at? Fireheart wondered.
“You might at least have come to see me,” Graypool complained. “Don’t you want to know how those kits are doing?”
The massive tom’s ears pricked up, and his amber eyes glowed with interest. “What kits?”
“What kits, he says!” Graypool broke into rusty laughter. “As if you didn’t know! The two ThunderClan kits that you asked me to take care of.”
Fireheart froze. Graypool had just given away Bluestar’s most deeply buried secret!
Tigerstar’s muscles tensed, and he gazed at Graypool more intently still, his interest clear in every line of his body. He thrust his head forward and meowed something so softly that Fireheart could not catch it.
“Seasons ago,” replied Graypool, sounding puzzled. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. You…No, Oakheart wouldn’t need to ask that.” She staggered forward a couple of steps to peer more closely at Tigerstar.
“You’re not Oakheart!” she exclaimed.
“Never mind that,” Tigerstar mewed soothingly. “You can still tell me all about it. What ThunderClan kits? Who was their real mother?”
Fireheart was close enough to see the dazed look in Graypool’s eyes. She put her head on one side, gazing confusedly at the ShadowClan leader. “They were beautiful kits,” she meowed vaguely. “And now they’re fine warriors.”
She broke off as Tigerstar thrust his muzzle into her face. “Tell me whose kits they were, old crowfood,” he demanded, losing his patience.
Fireheart stared in horror as, flustered, Graypool took a step back. Her paws slid from under her. She rolled down the steep slope in a scramble of legs and tail, and landed hard against one of the rocks that poked out of the turf. There she lay, and did not move again.
Dismay and fury pulsed through Fireheart. As Tigerstar padded down to Graypool’s motionless body and sniffed it, he sprang to his paws and raced across the slope. But before Fireheart reached him the ShadowClan leader spun around, without seeing his former enemy, and bounded away in the direction of Fourtrees and his own territory.
Fireheart reached Graypool and gazed down at her. A trickle of blood came from her small gray head where it had struck the rock. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the sky. The she-cat was dead.
Fireheart lowered his head. “Good-bye, Graypool,” he mewed softly. “StarClan will honor you.”
He stood in silent grief, wishing he had known Graypool better. Her sharp tongue and noble heart reminded him of Yellowfang, and he would never stop feeling grateful to the RiverClan queen for sharing her deepest secret with him, even though he came from another Clan.
His sad reverie was interrupted by the voices of two cats, and he looked up to see Mistyfoot and Graystripe racing toward him from the river. Mistyfoot let out a desperate wail when she saw the dead elder and flung herself down on the turf to press her nose against Graypool’s side.
“What happened?” asked Graystripe.
In an instant, Fireheart decided to keep quiet about Tigerstar. Any mention of the ShadowClan leader would risk exposing the truth about Bluestar’s kits, and Fireheart knew Graypool would never want that, not even within her own Clan. He glanced at the still gray body and asked forgiveness from StarClan for the half-truth he was about to tell.
“I saw Graypool climbing the slope,” he replied. “She slipped, and I couldn’t reach her in time. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Fireheart.” Mistyfoot looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with sorrow. “I have been afraid for a while that something like this would happen.”
She bent her head to touch Graypool’s body again. Fireheart felt sympathy well up inside his chest. Graypool had taken Mistyfoot and Stonefur when Bluestar, their real mother, had given them up. Without Graypool they would have died. She had suckled them and reared them until they were ready to become apprentices. She was the only mother they had ever known, and no cat could have done more for them.
“Come on, Mistyfoot.” Graystripe gently nudged his friend. “Let’s take her back to camp.”
“I’ll help you,” Fireheart offered.
Mistyfoot sat up. “No,” she meowed. “You’ve done enough, Fireheart. Thank you, but this is for her own Clan to do.”
With great care she grasped Graypool’s scruff in her jaws. Graystripe took hold of the elder’s body, and together the two cats carried her down the slope toward the Twoleg bridge. Graypool’s limp form sagged between them, and her tail trailed in the dust.
When they reached the other side of the river, Fireheart turned away, back to his own territory and the ThunderClan camp. His thoughts were churning. Tigerstar had found out that two RiverClan warriors had come from ThunderClan! Fireheart had no idea what Tigerstar would do with this knowledge. But he knew, as sure as the sun would rise the next morning, that the ShadowClan leader would make some use of it, and he had a sinking feeling the outcome could be disastrous for Bluestar
and the whole of ThunderClan.
Fireheart stopped to hunt on the way home and arrived at the top of the ravine with a rabbit clamped firmly in his jaws. Looking down at the entrance to the camp, he saw that Goldenflower had brought her kits out into the bottom of the ravine; the two of them were chasing each other among the rocks, pretending to attack Brightpaw, who flicked her tail at them and frisked about just out of their reach. As Fireheart padded down the ravine and dropped the rabbit to watch for a moment, Bramblekit bounded up to him and laid a mouse at his paws.
“Look, Fireheart!” he meowed triumphantly. “I caught it all by myself!”
“His first prey,” Goldenflower added with a fond look at her son.
Bramblekit’s amber eyes blazed with excitement. “Mother says I’ll be just as good a hunter as my father,” he told Fireheart.
Fireheart felt an unpleasant jolt in his belly. His eyes narrowed, and he gave Goldenflower a sharp glance. Goldenflower kept her eyes fixed on her son, but Fireheart could tell from her twitching tail tip that she knew he was watching her.
“Fireheart?” Bramblekit was looking puzzled. “May I give my mouse to the elders?”
Fireheart shook himself angrily. The kit had done very well to catch a mouse when he was still so young, and he deserved a bit of praise. Yet Fireheart couldn’t help remembering Tigerstar bending over Graypool’s limp body, and he had a hard struggle not to vent his fury on the innocent Bramblekit.
“Yes, of course,” he mewed. “And well done for catching it. See if One-eye would like it. She might think it’s worth a story.”
