A Dangerous Path

Chapter 15

Fireheart sprang to his paws. “Tell me what happened.”

“When I saw her earlier this morning, I took her poppy seeds to calm her down,” Cinderpelt explained. “But when I went to her den just now, she wasn’t there, and she hadn’t eaten the poppy seeds. I tried the elders’ den and the nursery, but she isn’t there either. She isn’t anywhere in camp, Fireheart.”

“Did anyone see her leave?”

“I haven’t asked yet. I came to tell you first.”

“Then I’ll get the apprentices to search, and find out if—”

“Bluestar’s not a kit, you know.” The interruption came from Whitestorm, who had padded into the warriors’ den in time to hear Cinderpelt’s news. “She might have gone on patrol. For all you know, other cats are with her.” He spoke calmly as he bared his teeth in a yawn and settled into his nest.

Fireheart nodded uncertainly. What Whitestorm said was sensible, but he would have liked to be sure. After the state Bluestar had been in that morning, she could be anywhere in the forest. She might even have gone to RiverClan in search of her kits.

“There’s probably no need to worry,” Fireheart reassured Cinderpelt, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. “But we’ll look anyway, and find out if any cat has seen her.”

Leaving the den, he spotted Fernpaw and Ashpaw sharing tongues near the blackened remains of the tree stump outside the apprentices’ den. Quickly Fireheart explained that he had a message for Bluestar, but he wasn’t sure where she was. The two apprentices dashed off willingly to look for her.

“You go and ask if any cat has seen her,” he suggested to Cinderpelt, who had followed him out of the den. “I’ll go up the ravine and see if I can pick up her scent. I might be able to track her.”

Privately he didn’t have much hope. While he had slept, clouds had covered the sky and a thin rain was drizzling down. It was not good weather for following scent. Before he could leave, Fireheart noticed that Sandstorm was just returning to camp, along with Cloudpaw and Brindleface. All three of them carried fresh-kill, which they went over to drop on the pile.

Fireheart raced up to them, with Cinderpelt limping behind. “Sandstorm,” he meowed, “have you seen Bluestar?”

Sandstorm swiped her tongue around her mouth to remove the prey juices. “No. Why?”

“She isn’t here,” mewed Cinderpelt.

Sandstorm’s eyes widened. “Are you surprised? After what happened this morning? She must feel like she’s losing control of her Clan.”

That was so close to the truth that Fireheart didn’t know how to answer.

“We’re going out again,” meowed Cloudpaw. “We’ll keep a lookout for her.”

“Okay, thanks.” Fireheart blinked gratefully at his apprentice.

The young white tom raced off again, with the two warriors following more slowly. Brindleface paused to meow, “I’m sure she’ll be fine, Fireheart,” as she left, but Sandstorm didn’t look back.

Fireheart’s problems were about to overwhelm him, but then he felt Cinderpelt’s breath soft against his ear. “Don’t worry, Fireheart,” she murmured. “Sandstorm’s still your friend. You need to accept that she doesn’t always see things the way you do.”

“You don’t either.” Fireheart sighed.

Cinderpelt let out an affectionate purr. “I’m still your friend too,” she told him. “And I know you’ve done what you believe to be right. Now, let’s see what we can do to find Bluestar.”

By the time the sun set, Bluestar was still missing. Fireheart had tracked her as far as the top of the ravine, but after that, with the rain coming down more heavily, the scent was lost among the tang of charred branches and the musty smell of fallen leaves.

Too anxious to sleep, Fireheart put himself on watch. The night was far gone, and the moon was setting when he spotted movement by the camp entrance. The last rays of moonlight picked out a silver-gray coat as Bluestar limped back into the camp. Her fur was soaked, plastered to her body, and her head was low. She looked old, exhausted, defeated.

Fireheart hurried across to her. “Bluestar, where have you been?”

The Clan leader raised her head and looked at him. A jolt ran through Fireheart; her eyes, faintly glowing in the dim light, were clear and bright in spite of her exhaustion. “You sound like a queen scolding her kit,” she rasped, an edge of humor in her voice. She jerked her head in the direction of her den. “Come with me.”

Fireheart obeyed, pausing only to snatch a vole from the pile of fresh-kill. Bluestar needed to eat, wherever she had been. When he reached Bluestar’s den, his leader was seated in her mossy nest, washing herself with long, careful strokes. Fireheart would have liked to sit beside her and share tongues with her, but after their last encounter he did not dare. Instead he dropped the vole in front of her and respectfully dipped his head. “What happened, Bluestar?” he asked.

Bluestar stretched her neck to sniff the vole, half turned away from it, and then began to gulp it down as if she had suddenly realized how hungry she was. She did not answer until she had finished it.

“I went to speak with StarClan,” she announced, flicking the last traces of vole from her whiskers.

Fireheart stared. “To Highstones? On your own?”

“Of course. Which of this pack of traitors could I ask to escort me?”

Fireheart swallowed. Gently he meowed, “Your Clan are loyal, Bluestar. All of us.”

Bluestar shook her head stubbornly. “I went to Highstones, and I spoke with StarClan.”

“But why?” Fireheart was feeling more and more confused. “I thought you no longer wanted to share tongues with StarClan.”

The old cat drew herself up. “I do not. I went to challenge them. I wanted to ask how they could justify what they have done to me, when I have served them all my life and tried to do their will. And to demand an explanation for the things that are happening in the forest.”

Fireheart gazed at her in disbelief, amazed that his leader had dared to challenge the spirits of their warrior ancestors.

“I lay beside the Moonstone and StarClan came to me,” Bluestar went on. “They did not justify themselves—how could they? There is no justification for what they have done to me. But they told me something…”

Fireheart leaned closer. “What?”

“They said that there is evil loose in the forest. They spoke of a ‘pack.’ They told me that it will bring more death and destruction than the forest has ever seen before.”

“What did they mean?” Fireheart whispered. Surely there had been enough death and destruction already, with the fire and the floods?

Bluestar lowered her head. “I don’t know.”

“But we must find out!” Fireheart exclaimed, his mind whirling. “Perhaps they mean the dog—but a dog couldn’t do damage on that scale. And what about ‘pack’? Maybe…yes, maybe they were talking about ShadowClan. You know how Tigerstar vowed to take revenge on us. Maybe he’s planning an attack. Or Leopardstar,” he added, still trying to cling to his hope that Tigerstar had lost interest in harming his old Clan.

Bluestar shrugged. “Maybe.”

Fireheart narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to work out the meaning of what StarClan had told her and make plans to stop the attack if it came. “We have to do something,” he insisted. “We could set a watch on the borders, and we should increase the patrols.” He wasn’t sure how he was going to that with so few warriors. “We need to make sure there’s always a guard on the camp when…”

His voice trailed off as he realized Bluestar wasn’t listening. She crouched motionless, her eyes fixed on her paws. “Bluestar?”

The ThunderClan leader looked up at him, her eyes bottomless pools of despair. “What is the point?” she rasped. “StarClan have decreed that death will come. A dark force walks this forest, and even StarClan themselves cannot control it. Or will not. There is nothing we can do.”

A shudder went through Fireheart. Was Bluestar right that StarClan were not powerful enough to avert the doom that was coming? For a few heartbeats he almost shared his leader’s despair.

Then he raised his head. He felt as though he were clawing his way up from the depths of black water. “No,” he growled. “I won’t believe that. There is always something that a cat can do, as long as he has courage and loyalty.”

“Courage? Loyalty? In ThunderClan?”

“Yes, Bluestar.” Fireheart tried to put all the force of his belief into his reply. “No cat but Tigerstar has ever wanted to betray you.”

Bluestar held his gaze for a moment before looking away. Her tail flicked wearily. “Do what you want, Fireheart. It won’t make any difference. Nothing will. Now leave me.”

Fireheart murmured a farewell. Backing away, he noticed the poppy seeds Cinderpelt had left earlier, still lying neatly on a leaf. He nodded toward them. “Eat your poppy seeds, Bluestar,” he mewed. “You need to rest. Tomorrow everything will look better.”

He took the leaf between his teeth and carefully moved it into Bluestar’s reach. Bluestar gave a disdainful sniff, but as Fireheart left the den he glanced back to see her bend over and lick up the seeds.

Outside, he gave his pelt a shake, trying to get rid of the creeping horror he had felt as Bluestar revealed the message of StarClan. His paws carried him instinctively in the direction of Cinderpelt’s den. He would have to tell the medicine cat that Bluestar was back, and he wanted to discuss what his leader had told him.

Only then did he remember that more than a moon ago, Cinderpelt had told him of a dream in which she heard the words pack, pack, and kill, kill.