A Dangerous Path

Chapter 24

Fireheart emerged from the warriors’ den and paused. He gazed across the clearing to where Sandstorm was crouched by the nettle patch, gulping down a piece of fresh-kill. He had chosen some of the warriors he wanted to come with him to Snakerocks, but so far he had not spoken to Sandstorm. He was reluctant to risk her life on this dangerous mission, and afraid that she would refuse to come if it meant following his orders. Yet he knew that he could not imagine going without her.

Taking a deep breath, he padded over to the nettle patch and sat down beside her.

Sandstorm swallowed the last mouthful of squirrel. “Fireheart? What is it?”

Quietly Fireheart told her what Longtail had discovered at Snakerocks. “I want you to come with us,” he told her. “You’re fast and brave, and the Clan needs you.”

The she-cat turned her green gaze on him, but Fireheart could not read the expression there.

“I need you,” he blurted out, afraid she was about to refuse. “For Bluestar’s sake, as well as the Clan’s. I know things haven’t been right between us ever since I stopped the battle with WindClan. But I trust you. Whatever you think about me, do it for the Clan.”

Sandstorm nodded slowly. She was looking thoughtful, and a small seed of hope began to grow in Fireheart’s heart. “I know why you didn’t want to fight WindClan,” she began. “In a way, I thought you were right. But it was hard to know you had gone behind Bluestar’s back without telling the rest of us.”

“I know, but—”

“But you’re the deputy,” Sandstorm interrupted, reaching one paw toward him for silence. “You have responsibilities the rest of us can’t understand. And I can see how torn you must have felt—between loyalty to Bluestar and loyalty to the Clan.” Hesitating, staring down at her paws, she added, “I was torn too. I wanted to be loyal to the warrior code, and I wanted to be loyal to you, Fireheart.”

Fireheart felt too full of emotion to answer. He stretched out his head to press against her flank, and to his delight she did not move away. Instead she looked up at him again, and he felt as if he were drowning in the depths of her green gaze. “I’m sorry, Sandstorm,” he murmured. “I never meant to hurt you.” His voice barely more than a whisper, he added, “I love you.”

Sandstorm’s eyes glowed. “I love you too, Fireheart,” she whispered. “That’s why it hurt so much when you asked Bluestar if Brackenfur could mentor Tawnypaw. I thought you didn’t respect me.”

“I made a mistake.” Fireheart’s voice shook. “I don’t know how I could have been so mouse-brained.”

Sandstorm let out a purr and touched her nose to his.

“I want you beside me always.” Fireheart breathed in her scent, rejoicing in the warmth of her body. He suddenly felt that he would always be happy if he could stay like that forever.

But he knew that he could not. “Sandstorm,” he told her, lifting his head. “I know what we’re going to face out there. It’s more dangerous than I ever imagined. I’m not ordering you to come, but I still want you with me.”

Sandstorm’s purr grew deeper, a vibration that filled her whole body. “Of course I’m coming, you stupid furball,” she mewed.

Fireheart set a double watch on the camp that night and kept vigil himself in the center of the clearing. A growing sense of horror crept over him as he listened to the wind sighing through the bare trees. It seemed to carry Spottedleaf’s voice to him, murmuring about the enemy that never slept: Tigerstar, the dogs—or both. The enemy was about to unleash its fury, and no cat was safe. The next day, Fireheart knew, could see the final destruction of his Clan.

As he watched the moon above him, barely waning from the full, Cinderpelt emerged from her den and padded across the clearing to sit beside him.

“If you’re leading a patrol tomorrow, you should get some sleep,” she advised. “You’ll need your strength.”

“I know,” Fireheart agreed. “But I don’t think I could sleep.” He raised his eyes to the moon again and the glittering stars of Silverpelt. “It looks so peaceful up there. But down here…”

“Yes,” murmured Cinderpelt. “Down here I can feel the evil growing. The forest is dark with it, and StarClan cannot help us. It’s up to us.”

“So you really don’t believe that StarClan has sent this pack to punish us?”

Cinderpelt met his gaze, her eyes shining with the reflected light of the moon. “No, Fireheart, I don’t.” She leaned toward him and let her muzzle brush lightly against the side of his face. “You’re not alone, Fireheart,” she promised. “I’m with you. And so is the rest of the Clan.”

Fireheart hoped she was right. The Clan would survive only if it united and faced this dark threat together. They had supported him in the battle that wasn’t fought against WindClan, but would they join him in facing the pack?

After a few moments Cinderpelt asked, “What will you tell Bluestar?”

“Nothing,” Fireheart replied. “Not until we’ve had a look around, at least. There’s no point in upsetting her. She doesn’t have the strength to cope with this—not now.”

Cinderpelt murmured agreement. She kept watch with him in silence until the moon began to set. Then she meowed, “Fireheart, I’m telling you as your medicine cat that you need to rest. What happens tomorrow could determine the very future of this Clan, and we need all our warriors to be at full strength.”

Reluctantly Fireheart had to admit that she was right. Giving Cinderpelt’s ear a farewell lick, he got to his paws, padded off to the warriors’ den, and curled himself into the moss beside Sandstorm. But his sleep was broken, and his dreams were dark. Once he thought he saw Spottedleaf bounding toward him, and his heart lifted in joy, but before she reached him she turned into a huge dog with gaping jaws and eyes like flames. Fireheart woke, shuddering, to see that the first light of dawn was beginning to seep into the sky. This could be the last dawn I’ll ever see, he thought. Death waits for us out there.

Then as he raised his head he saw that Sandstorm was sitting beside him, watching over him while he slept. As he saw the love in her eyes he felt new strength flowing through his limbs. He sat up and gave the she-cat’s ear a gentle lick. “It’s time,” he meowed.

Bracing himself, he roused the cats he had chosen the evening before for his patrol to Snakerocks. Cloudtail almost leaped out of his nest, his tail lashing fiercely at the thought of confronting the creatures who had injured Lostface.

Brindleface, who had been sleeping close to the young warrior, awoke with him and followed him to the edge of the den. “May StarClan go with you,” she mewed, grooming the scraps of moss out of his fur.

Cloudtail pressed his muzzle against hers. “Don’t worry,” he assured his foster mother. “I’ll tell you all about it when I come back.”

Fireheart woke Whitestorm and then padded across the den to where Graystripe lay curled up in a pile of heather. Prodding him with one paw, he murmured, “Come on.”

Graystripe blinked and sat up. “This is just like the old days,” he mewed, in a vain attempt to sound cheerful. “You and me, charging into danger again.” He pushed his forehead against Fireheart’s shoulder. “Thanks for choosing me, Fireheart. I’m scared stiff, but I’ll prove that I’m loyal to ThunderClan, I promise.”

Fireheart pressed against him briefly and left the gray warrior to have a quick wash while he went to wake Longtail. The pale warrior shivered as he crawled out of his nest, but his eyes were determined. “I’ll show you that you can trust me,” he promised quietly.

Fireheart nodded, still half-ashamed that he hadn’t listened to Longtail the night before. “The Clan needs you, Longtail,” he meowed. “Far more than Tigerstar and Darkstripe need you, believe me.”

Longtail brightened at that and followed Fireheart with the other warriors out to the nettle patch. They gulped down fresh-kill while Fireheart quickly reminded them of what Longtail had told him the day before. “We’re going to investigate,” he meowed. “We can’t decide how to get rid of these dogs until we know exactly what we have to face. We’re not going to attack them, not yet—have you got that, Cloudtail?”

Cloudtail’s blue eyes burned into his, and he did not reply.

“I won’t take you, Cloudtail, unless you promise to do as you’re told without question.”

“Oh, all right.” The tip of Cloudtail’s tail flicked irritably. “I want every last dog turned into crowfood, but I’ll do it your way, Fireheart.”

“Good.” Fireheart’s gaze swept over the rest of the patrol. “Any questions?”

“What if we come across Tigerstar?” asked Sandstorm.

“A cat from another Clan on our territory?” Fireheart bared his teeth. “Yes, you can attack him.”

Cloudtail let out a growl of satisfaction.

Gulping down the last of his fresh-kill, Fireheart led the way out of the camp and up the ravine. Although the sun had nearly risen, clouds covered the sky, and shadows still lay thick among the trees. There was a strong smell of rabbit not far from the camp, but Fireheart ignored it. There was no time to hunt.

The warriors advanced warily in single file with Fireheart in the lead and Whitestorm keeping watch at the rear. After what he had learned from Longtail, Fireheart felt even more strongly that the familiar forest had become full of danger, and his fur prickled with the expectation of attack.

All was quiet until they drew close to Snakerocks. Fireheart was just considering the best way to approach the caves when Graystripe mewed, “What’s that?”

He plunged into a clump of dead bracken. A moment later Fireheart heard his voice, strained and hoarse. “Come and look at this.”

Fireheart followed the sound and found Graystripe crouched over a dead rabbit. Its throat had been torn out, and its fur was stiff with dried blood.

“The pack have been killing again,” Longtail mewed grimly.

“Then why didn’t they eat the prey?” asked Sandstorm, coming up to sniff at the limp, gray-brown body. She sniffed again. “Fireheart, there’s ShadowClan scent here!”

Fireheart opened his jaws and drew the forest breeze over the glands in the roof of his mouth. Sandstorm was right. The scent was faint but unmistakable. “Tigerstar killed this rabbit,” he murmured, “and then left it here. What for, I wonder?”

He remembered how Longtail had reported seeing Tigerstar feeding the pack with rabbit, and the reek of rabbit that had followed them all the way from the ThunderClan camp. Backing away from the prey, he summoned Cloudtail with a flick of his tail. “Go back along the way we came,” he instructed. “You’re looking for dead rabbits. If you find any, check for other scents, and then come and tell me. Whitestorm, you go with him.”

He watched the two warriors retreat and then turned to Graystripe. “Stay here and guard this. Sandstorm, Longtail, come with me.”

Even more cautiously now, pausing to taste the air every few steps, Fireheart drew closer to Snakerocks. It wasn’t long before they discovered another dead rabbit lying exposed on a rock, with the same betraying scent of Tigerstar lingering around it. By this time they were in sight of the mouth of the cave. Fireheart could just make out the shape of yet another rabbit lying at the edge of the open space in front of it. There was no sign of the pack.

“Where are the dogs?” he muttered.

“In that cave,” replied Longtail. “That’s where I saw Tigerstar leave the rabbit yesterday.”

“When they come out, they’ll see the rabbit over there, and they’ll scent this one…” Fireheart was thinking aloud. “And then there’s the one Graystripe found…” Understanding hit him like a rock and he could scarcely breathe for fear. “I know what Whitestorm and Cloudtail will find. Tigerstar has laid a trail straight back to the camp.”

Longtail crouched down on the forest floor and Sandstorm’s eyes stretched wide with horror. “You mean that he wants to bring the pack right to us?”

Pictures flashed through Fireheart’s mind of massive, slavering dogs racing down the sides of the ravine and breaking through the fern wall into the peaceful camp. He could see jaws snapping, limp feline bodies tossed high in the air, kits wailing as cruel teeth reached for them… He shuddered. “Yes. Come on; we have to break the trail!”

Not even an order from StarClan themselves could have made Fireheart try to retrieve the rabbit that was close to the cave mouth. But he snatched up the one that lay on the rock and bounded back to where he had left Graystripe. He set down his burden long enough to meow, “Bring that rabbit. We have to warn the Clan.”

Ears pricked in amazement, Graystripe obeyed. They headed back toward the camp, and before they had traveled more than a few fox-lengths Fireheart spotted Cloudtail and Whitestorm coming to meet them, slipping warily through the undergrowth.

“We’ve found two more rabbits,” Cloudtail reported. “Both stinking of Tigerstar.”

“Then go and fetch them.” Rapidly Fireheart explained what he suspected. “We’ll dump them in a stream somewhere and break the trail.”

“That’s all very well,” Whitestorm meowed. “You can shift the rabbits, but what about the scent?”

Fireheart froze. Fear was making him stupid, he realized. The rabbit scent and spilled blood would still lead the pack straight to the ThunderClan camp.

“We’ll move the rabbits anyway,” he decided swiftly. “That might slow the dogs up. But we’ve got to get back and warn the Clan. They’ll have to leave the camp.”

Racing through the forest, ears pricked for the sound of the pack behind them, they headed for the camp. Soon they had more rabbits than they could carry. Tigerstar must have hunted all night to catch this many, Fireheart thought grimly.

“Let’s leave them all here,” Sandstorm suggested when they were still some way from the ravine. Her flanks heaved as she gasped for breath, and she had torn a claw, but her eyes glittered with determination, and Fireheart knew that she would run forever if he asked her to. “If the dogs find a good meal, they’ll stop to eat it.”

“Good idea,” Fireheart meowed.

“It might have been better to leave them closer to the cave,” Whitestorm pointed out, his eyes dark with worry. “That might have stopped the dogs’ coming to the camp at all.”

“True,” Fireheart replied, “but there isn’t time. The dogs could be on their way already. We don’t want to meet them.”

Whitestorm nodded agreement. They left the heap of rabbits in full view on the trail and sprinted on. Fireheart felt his heart pounding wildly. He should have known his old enemy would be connected with the dark force that threatened the forest. Only StarClan knew how Tigerstar had found out that the dogs were at Snakerocks, but he was using them to destroy the Clan he hated. As he dashed through the trees, Fireheart was afraid that it might be too late to stop him.

At the top of the ravine, he paused. “Spread out,” he ordered his warriors. “Make sure there’s no fresh-kill close to the camp.”

They headed down the ravine, ranging from side to side. Cloudtail drew ahead, and not far from the entrance Fireheart saw him stop dead. He was staring down at something on the ground.

“No! No!” His voice was an earsplitting yowl, and Fireheart’s fur bristled in horror.

“No!” Cloudtail yowled again. “Fireheart!”

Fireheart dashed to the warrior’s side. Cloudtail was standing stiff-legged, every hair in his pelt on end as if he were facing an enemy. His eyes were fixed on the limp heap of tabby fur huddled at his paws.

“Why, Fireheart?” Cloudtail wailed. “Why her?”

Fireheart knew, but rage and grief made it hard to speak. “Because Tigerstar wants the pack to get a taste for cat blood,” he rasped.

The dead cat lying in front of them was Brindleface.