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This made Princess look so scared that he changed the subject, encouraging Cloudpaw to describe his apprentice ceremony, and the expedition they had made around the borders. Soon she was happy again, exclaiming admiringly at everything her son told her.

The sun was past its height when Fireheart meowed, “Cloudpaw, it’s time we went home.”

Cloudpaw opened his mouth as if he was going to protest, but he remembered himself in time. “Yes, Fireheart,” he mewed obediently. To Princess, he added, “Why don’t you come with us? I’d catch mice for you, and you could sleep in my den.”

Princess let out a purr of amusement. “I almost wish I could,” she replied honestly. “But really I’m happier as a kittypet. I don’t want to learn to fight, or sleep outdoors in the cold. You’ll just have to come and visit me again soon.”

“Yes, I will, I promise,” Cloudpaw mewed.

“I’ll bring him,” Fireheart meowed. “And Princess…” he added as he prepared to spring to the ground. “If you do see anything…odd around here, please tell me about it.”

Fireheart stopped on the way back so that they could hunt. By the time he and Cloudpaw reached the ravine, the sun was near to setting, bathing the forest in red light and casting long shadows on the ground.

Cloudpaw was proudly carrying a shrew, which he was going to take to the elders. At least it filled his jaws and put a stop to his endless chatter. Fireheart was feeling worn out after a whole day in his company, but he had to admit he was more impressed than he had expected. Cloudpaw’s courage and quick wits promised that he would make an exceptional warrior. As they slipped down the shadowy ravine toward the tunnel, Fireheart paused. An unfamiliar scent tickled his nostrils, drifting to him on the breeze that swept through the forest.

Cloudpaw stopped too and put down the shrew. “Fireheart, what’s that?” He tasted the air, and drew in his breath in a gasp. “You showed me that this morning. It’s RiverClan!”

“Very good,” Fireheart mewed tensely. He had recognized it himself a heartbeat before Cloudpaw spoke. Looking up toward the top of the ravine, he could make out three cats picking their way slowly through the boulders. “RiverClan it is. And it seems they’re on their way here. Now go back to the camp and tell Bluestar. Make sure she understands it’s not an attack.”

“But I want—” The young apprentice broke off as Fireheart frowned. “Sorry, Fireheart. I’m going.” He padded off toward the tunnel entrance, not forgetting to pick up his shrew.

Fireheart stayed where he was. He drew himself up and waited while the three cats drew closer. He recognized Leopardfur, Mistyfoot, and Stonefur. When they were only a couple of tail-lengths away, he asked, “RiverClan, what do you want? Why are you on our land?” Though he had to challenge them for entering ThunderClan territory uninvited, he tried not to sound too hostile. He didn’t want to add to any possible trouble with RiverClan.

Leopardfur stopped, with Mistyfoot and Stonefur just behind her. “We come in peace,” she meowed. “There are matters to be settled between our Clans. Crookedstar has sent us to talk to your leader.”

CHAPTER 26

Fireheart tried to hide his misgivings as he led the three RiverClan warriors down the tunnel and into the camp. Clan cats rarely visited each other’s territory, and he wondered what was so urgent that it couldn’t wait until the next Gathering.

Alerted by Cloudpaw, Bluestar was already seated at the foot of the Highrock, and Fireheart’s apprehension increased when he saw Tigerclaw was beside her.

“Thank you, Cloudpaw.” Bluestar dismissed the apprentice as Fireheart approached with the newcomers. “Take your fresh-kill to the elders.”

Cloudpaw looked disappointed to be sent away, but he went without protest.

Leopardfur walked up to Bluestar and dipped her head respectfully. “Bluestar, we come to your camp in peace,” she began. “There’s something we must discuss.”

Tigerclaw let out a low disbelieving growl, as if he would rather be ripping the fur off the intruding cats, but Bluestar ignored him. “I can guess what brings you here,” she meowed. “But what is there to discuss? What’s done is done. Any punishment for Graystripe will be handled by his own Clan.”

While she spoke to Leopardfur, Fireheart noticed, her eyes kept straying to Mistyfoot and Stonefur. It was the first time Fireheart had seen his leader with the RiverClan warriors since she had admitted to him that they were her kits. He did not think he was imagining the wistfulness in her blue eyes as she looked at them.

“What you say is true,” Leopardfur agreed. “The two young cats were foolish, but Silverstream is dead, and Graystripe’s punishment is not for RiverClan to decide. We’ve come here about the kits.”

“What about them?” asked Bluestar.

“They’re RiverClan kits,” meowed Leopardfur. “We’ve come to take them home.”

“RiverClan kits?” Bluestar’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that?”

“And how do you know about them?” Tigerclaw demanded, glaring in fury as he sprang to his paws. “Have you been spying? Or did some cat tell you?”

He turned on Fireheart as he spoke, but Fireheart stood his ground, and Mistyfoot kept quiet, not betraying him by so much as a glance. Tigerclaw couldn’t know for sure that he had told Mistyfoot, and Fireheart refused to regret what he had done. RiverClan had the right to know.

“Sit down, Tigerclaw,” murmured Bluestar. She flashed a look at Fireheart, and he realized that his leader guessed what he had done, as surely as if she had seen him cross the river. But she didn’t intend to give him away. “Who knows, perhaps a RiverClan patrol saw what happened? Such things can’t be hidden for long. But Leopardfur,” she went on, turning back to the visiting deputy, “the kits are also half ThunderClan, and one of our queens is taking good care of them. Why should I give them to you?”

“Kits belong with their mother’s Clan,” Leopardfur explained. “RiverClan would have raised these kits if Silverstream had lived, without knowing who the father was, and that makes them ours by right.”

“Bluestar, you can’t send the kits away!” Fireheart couldn’t stop himself from interrupting. “They’re all Graystripe has to live for.”

A growl rumbled once again in Tigerclaw’s throat, but it was Bluestar who answered. “Fireheart, be quiet. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Yes, it does,” Fireheart dared to meow. “Graystripe’s my friend.”

“Silence!” hissed Tigerclaw. “Does your leader have to tell you twice? Graystripe is a traitor to his Clan. He has no right to the kits, or anything else.”

Rage flooded through Fireheart. Had Tigerclaw no respect for Graystripe’s terrible grief? He whirled on the deputy, held back from springing at him only because cats of another Clan were looking on. Tigerclaw bared his teeth in a snarl.

Bluestar flicked her tail angrily at both of them. “Enough!” she ordered. “Leopardfur, I admit RiverClan has some right to the kits. But so does ThunderClan. Besides, the kits are small and weak. They can’t travel yet, especially across the river. It’s too dangerous.”

Leopardfur’s hackles began to rise a

nd her eyes narrowed to slits. “You are just making excuses.”

“No,” Bluestar insisted. “Not excuses. Would you risk the kits’ lives? I’ll think about what you have said and discuss it with my warriors, and give you our answer at the next Gathering.”

“Now get out of our camp,” growled Tigerclaw.

Leopardfur hesitated, as if she would have liked to say more, but it was clear that Bluestar had dismissed her. After a few tense moments, she dipped her head again and turned to go, with Mistyfoot and Stonefur behind her. Tigerclaw stalked across the clearing with them as far as the tunnel.

Left alone with Bluestar, Fireheart felt his anger begin to fade, but he couldn’t help renewing his pleas. “We can’t let them take the kits! You know how Graystripe would feel.”

The bleak look Bluestar gave him made him wonder if he had gone too far, but her voice was soft as she replied, “Yes, Fireheart, I know. And I would give much to keep these kits. But how far will RiverClan go to take them? Will they fight? How many ThunderClan warriors would risk their lives for kits that are half-RiverClan?”

Fireheart’s fur prickled with fear of the picture she painted. Clans at war over mewling kits—or ThunderClan split against itself as warriors fought among themselves. Was that the fate that StarClan had decreed for his Clan when Spottedleaf warned that water could quench fire? Perhaps it wasn’t the floodwater that could destroy ThunderClan, but the cats that came from the territory by the river.

“Have courage, Fireheart,” urged Bluestar. “It hasn’t come to a battle just yet. I’ve won us time until the Gathering, and who knows what will happen before then?”

Fireheart couldn’t share her confidence. The problem of the kits would not go away. But he could do nothing except bow his head respectfully and withdraw to the warriors’ den.

And now, he thought despairingly, what am I going to tell Graystripe?

By the time Silverpelt stretched across the sky, the whole of ThunderClan seemed to know why the RiverClan cats had come. Fireheart guessed that Tigerclaw had told his favourite warriors, and they had spread the news to the rest of the Clan.

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