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CHAPTER 4
Soft paws padded through Fireheart’s dreams that night. A tortoiseshell she-cat emerged from the forest beside him, her amber eyes glowing. Fireheart gazed at Spottedleaf and felt the familiar ache in his heart. The pain of the medicine cat’s death, so many moons ago, was as raw as ever. He waited eagerly for her gentle greeting, but this time Spottedleaf didn’t press her nose to his cheek as she usually did. Instead she turned from him and walked away. Surprised Fireheart began to follow, breaking into a run to chase the dappled cat through the woods. He called out to her, but even though her pace hadn’t seemed to quicken, she stayed ahead of him, deaf to his cries.
Without warning, a dark gray shape loomed out from behind a tree. It was Bluestar, and the eyes of the ThunderClan leader were wide with fear. Fireheart swerved to avoid her, desperately trying to keep Spottedleaf in sight, but then Cloudpaw leaped at him from the ferns that lined the other side of the path, knocking him over. Lying winded for a moment, Fireheart could feel Whitestorm’s eyes burning through his fur as the white warrior watched him from the branches of a tree.
Fireheart scrambled to his paws and raced after Spottedleaf once more. She was still several fox-lengths ahead, padding steadily on without even turning to see who called her. Now the rest of ThunderClan had gathered along Fireheart’s path. As he dodged and weaved through them, they called out to him—he couldn’t make out their words, but their voices formed a deafening chorus of mews, questioning, criticizing, begging for help. The meows grew louder and louder until they drowned out his own cry so that even if she were listening, Spottedleaf could not have heard.
“Fireheart!” One voice sounded above the others. It was Whitestorm. “Mousefur and Longtail are waiting to leave. Wake up, Fireheart!”
Half-dreaming, clouded with sleep, Fireheart pulled himself to his paws. “W-what?” he meowed groggily.
Early morning light was streaming into the warriors’ den. Whitestorm stood beside him in the empty nest where Graystripe used to sleep. “The patrol is waiting,” he repeated. “And Bluestar wants to see you before you go.”
Fireheart shook his head to clear his mind. The dream had frightened him. Spottedleaf had always been closer to him in dreams than she had been even in life. Her behavior last night stung like the bite of an adder. Was the gentle medicine cat abandoning him?
Fireheart leaned back to stretch, his legs trembling beneath him. “Tell Mousefur and Longtail I’ll be as quick as I can.” He slipped quickly past the slumbering bodies of the other warriors. Brindleface was sleeping near the wall of the den with Frostfur curled beside her; both she-cats had returned to their lives as warriors now that their kits had left the nursery.
Fireheart pushed his way out into the clearing. It was already warm even though the sun had not yet risen over the treetops, and the woods looked green and inviting at the top of the ravine. As he sniffed the familiar scents of the forest, the pain of Fireheart’s dream began to fade, and he felt his fur relax on his shoulders.
Longtail and Mousefur were waiting at the camp entrance. Fireheart nodded to them as he headed toward Bluestar’s den. What could the ThunderClan leader want so early in the day? Did she have a special mission for him? Fireheart couldn’t help feeling it was a sign that Bluestar was feeling more like her old self, and he called a cheerful greeting through the lichen.
“Come in!” The Clan leader sounded excited, and Fireheart’s hopes soared. Inside, Bluestar was pacing up and down the sandy floor. She didn’t stop when Fireheart entered, and he had to press himself against the wall to keep out of her way.
“Fireheart,” she began without looking at him. “I need to share dreams with StarClan. I must travel to the Moonstone.” The Moonstone was a glittering rock that lay deep underground beyond WindClan territory, where the sun set.
“You want to go to Highstones?” Fireheart exclaimed, surprised.
“Do you know of another Moonstone?” retorted Bluestar impatiently. She was still pacing, her paws echoing in the den.
“But it’s such a long way; are you sure you’re up to it?” Fireheart stammered.
“I must speak with StarClan!” Bluestar insisted. She stopped dead and narrowed her eyes at her deputy. “And I want you to come. Whitestorm can take charge while we’re gone.”
Fireheart’s unease was growing rapidly. “Who else is coming with us?”
“No one,” answered Bluestar grimly.
Fireheart shivered. He felt bewildered by the dark intensity in Bluestar’s tone; it sounded as if she thought her life depended on making this journey. “But isn’t it a bit dangerous to travel by ourselves?” he ventured.
Bluestar turned an icy gaze on Fireheart. His mouth turned dry as the she-cat hissed at him, “You want to bring others? Why?”
Fireheart tried to keep his voice steady. “What if we’re attacked?”
“You will protect me,” Bluestar rasped in a low whisper. “Won’t you?”
“With my life!” Fireheart promised solemnly. No matter what he thought about Bluestar’s behavior, his loyalty to his leader was unshaken.
His words seemed to reassure Bluestar, and she sat down in front of him. “Good.”
Fireheart tipped his head to one side. “But what about the threat from WindClan and ShadowClan?” he meowed hesitantly. “You mentioned it yourself yesterday.”
Bluestar nodded slowly. Fireheart went on; “We’d have to travel through WindClan’s territory to get to Highstones.”
Bluestar leaped to her paws. “I must speak with StarClan,” she spat, the fur on her shoulders bristling. “Why are you trying to dissuade me? Either you come with me or I will go alone!”
Fireheart looked back at her. He had no choice. “I’ll come,” he agreed.
“Good.” Bluestar nodded again, her voice softening a little. “We’ll need traveling herbs to keep our strength up. I’ll go and see Yellowfang about them.” She swept past Fireheart and pushed her way out of the cave.
“Are we going now?” Fireheart called.
“Yes,” Bluestar replied, without stopping.
Fireheart bounded out of the den after her. “But I’m meant to lead the dawn patrol,” he protested.
“Send them off without you,” ordered Bluestar.
“Okay.” Fireheart stopped and watched the she-cat disappear into the ferns that led to Yellowfang’s clearing. He felt very uneasy as he padded toward the camp entrance where Longtail and Mousefur were waiting. Longtail was flicking his tail impatiently, while Mousefur had settled onto her belly and watched Fireheart approach through half-closed eyes.
“What’s going on?” Longtail demanded. “Why’s Bluestar going to see Yellowfang? Is she okay?”
“She’s going to get traveling herbs. Bluestar needs to share with StarClan, so we’re going to the Moonstone,” Fireheart explained.
“That’s a long way,” remarked Mousefur, slowly sitting up. “Is it wise? Bluestar’s probably still weak from the rogue cats’ attack.” Fireheart couldn’t help noticing that she tactfully avoided mentioning Tigerclaw’s part in the attack.
“She told me that StarClan has summoned her,” he answered.
“Who else is going?” asked Longtail.
“Just me and Bluestar.”
“I’ll come too, if you like,” offered Mousefur.
Fireheart shook his head regretfully.
Longtail’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “You think you can protect her alone, do you? You may be deputy, but you’re no Tigerclaw!” he hissed.
“And it’s a good thing he’s not!” Relief washed over Fireheart as he heard Whitestorm’s voice behind him. The white warrior must have heard the whole conversation, because he went on: “Fireheart and Bluestar are less likely to be noticed if they travel together like this. Quite apart from the fact that they’re allowed safe passage to Highstones anyway, they’re more likely to appear like a raiding party to WindClan if there’s more than two of them.”
Mousefur nodded,
but Longtail turned his head away. Fireheart blinked gratefully at Whitestorm.
