Firestar’s Quest

Chapter 30

A shiver ran through Firestar from ears to tail tip. A couple of heartbeats passed before he could force his paws to move and let him turn to face the newcomer. He saw a silver-gray tabby she-cat with deep green eyes, small and gracefully built, with tiny dark gray paws. To Firestar she looked almost fragile, and he wondered if she was suited for the tough life of a Clan.

“Greetings,” he meowed. “Have you dreamed of… of a gray-and-white cat?”

“Yes, many times. And other cats, too. A new one just came to join them—a big cat with frosty gray fur.” She blinked at Firestar with growing excitement. “Can you tell me who the starry cats are?”

“Yes,” Firestar replied. “They are the spirits of your warrior ancestors.”

“Spirits!” Oscar sneered. “I hope you’re not listening to this rubbish?” he hissed to Echo.

To Firestar’s relief, Echo ignored him. “Do you know why they come to me?” she asked Firestar.

“Have you heard of the Clan of cats who have settled in the gorge?” Echo shook her head. “The gray-and-white cat came to me and asked for my help,” Firestar explained. “Many seasons ago, he was leader of SkyClan, but his cats are long gone now. Skywatcher—the new gray cat you saw—challenged me to rebuild the Clan. But they can’t be a real Clan until they find a medicine cat,” he went on, taking a deep breath. “And you—”

“Last night the gray cat spoke to me in a dream,” Echo interrupted, her eyes shining. “He told me to come here today and look for two strange cats. Yes, I will join you.”

“What?” Oscar broke in before Firestar could respond.

“Go off with these two crazy furballs? You must be as mad as they are.”

“Maybe I am,” Echo replied calmly. “But no other cat has ever been able to explain my dreams to me. I will come.”

“What about your Twolegs?” Sparrowpaw asked.

A hint of sadness appeared in Echo’s green eyes. “These last few moons I’ve felt so restless that I’ve been roaming farther and farther from my housefolk’s nest. I felt that if only I knew how to listen, the stars would give me an answer. Now that I’m leaving for good, my housefolk will just assume that I’ve found a new nest to stay in. They’ll miss me, but they won’t be afraid for me.”

“Then let’s go,” meowed Firestar.

“Hang on.” Oscar shouldered past him to face Echo. “You’re not really going, are you? Just because of a few dreams?”

“This is not for you to understand,” Echo murmured gently. She turned back to Firestar, who caught a hint of nervousness in her eyes.

“You’re taking a big step,” he pointed out, feeling that he had to give her a chance to change her mind.

“I know. But I’m sure this is what I’m meant to do.”

Firestar nodded. If she was willing to trust her dreams, then that was enough for him. “Let’s go,” he mewed.

Oscar stood staring after them, dumbfounded, as they slipped back along the alley and out of the Twolegplace.

“What’s it like, living in a Clan?” Echo asked as they made their way back to the gorge.

“You have to be an apprentice first,” Sparrowpaw told her.

“You learn hunting and fighting and stuff like that. And—”

“Hang on,” Firestar interrupted. “Echo might… well, she might play a different role, one that involves healing herbs—and more dreams of starry cats.”

“How will I learn to do all that?” she asked, her eyes wide.

They were sheltering under the gorse bush where Firestar and Sparrowpaw had paused on the way out. Sparrowpaw padded a tail-length away to check for any signs of marauding rats.

“I don’t know,” Firestar admitted. “My mate, Sandstorm, can teach you some of the stuff about herbs. As for the rest—if SkyClan’s warrior ancestors really mean for you to join us, they’ll show you the way.”

To his relief, his answer seemed to satisfy Echo. “I will wait for their guidance,” she mewed.

When the three cats reached the gorge, Sharpclaw was keeping watch on the Skyrock. He sprang up to meet them at the top of the cliff.

“Still no sign of rats,” he reported, and gave Echo a curious sniff. “Who’s this?”

“This is Echo,” Firestar replied. “I… I think she is going to be your medicine cat.”

Sharpclaw’s fur began to bristle, and his eyes narrowed. “A stranger? I thought you’d appoint one of us to be medicine cat.”

Firestar took a deep breath. “It’s not up to me to appoint a medicine cat,” he explained. “They have to have a special connection with your warrior ancestors. I think Echo has that.

You’re all great warriors,” he added, “but to defend your Clan fully, you need the support of a cat who can heal and share tongues with your ancestors.”

Sharpclaw’s fur began to lie flat, but he still looked uneasy.

“Where does she come from?” he asked. “Can we trust her to give us the right herbs and remedies?”

“I lived with housefolk.” Echo’s clear gaze rested calmly on Sharpclaw, though her voice held a trace of uncertainty. “And I promise you can trust me. Once I’ve learned all about the herbs, I’ll do my best for every cat.”

Sharpclaw gave her a brusque nod. “We’ll see how you get on,” he mewed. “Good luck, anyway.”

Firestar rested his tail tip on Echo’s shoulder. “Come on.

Let’s introduce you to some more of the cats. Sparrowpaw, you go and tell the others that they have a new Clanmate.”

Sparrowpaw took off at once, leaping down the rocks.

Padding more slowly down the stony trail, Firestar glanced into the warriors’ den, but at this time of day it was empty.

When they reached the nursery, he poked his head around the boulder at the entrance, to find Clovertail keeping watch over the kits. Her own three were play-fighting near the entrance, while Mint and Sage were curled up asleep among the moss.

“Come in, Firestar.” Clovertail rose to her paws. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to introduce you to a new member of SkyClan.”

Firestar slid past the boulder and beckoned Echo with his tail. “This is Echo. Echo, this is Clovertail.”

“I’m Rockkit!” The black kit bounced up to Echo and sniffed her; his two littermates joined him and stood gazing up curiously at the newcomer.

Clovertail dipped her head, but Firestar noticed that she looked a little wary.

“I think Echo might become SkyClan’s medicine cat,” he mewed.

“Are these yours?” Echo asked, twitching her ears at the three kits who surrounded her. “What lovely, strong kits! You must be very proud of them.”

“I am,” Clovertail purred; Firestar realized that Echo had said exactly the right thing. “But they can be mischievous at times.”

Echo gave a soft mrrow of amusement. Padding over to the mossy nest where Mint and Sage were asleep, she mewed, “These can’t be yours too?”

“No, they’re mine.” Light from the entrance was blocked off as Petal came in, mumbling around a vole in her jaws.

Setting it down in front of Clovertail, she added more clearly, “Sparrowpaw tells me that we might have a new medicine cat.” She nodded to Echo. “You’re very welcome.”

“Thank you.” Echo’s eyes grew warm as she gazed down at the kits. “They’re beautiful—and so tiny!”

“You should have seen them when we came here,” Petal replied. “They’re much stronger now. Firestar rescued us from my Twoleg. I think my kits would have died if it hadn’t been for Clovertail. She fed them and looked after them when I was too ill.”

“That’s wonderful!” Echo exclaimed.

Clovertail purred, and Firestar could tell that she might decide to be pleased to have Echo join the Clan. When she had spent a little time talking to the two she-cats, Firestar led her out of the nursery again and farther down the cliff. “I’ll show you the old medicine cat den,” he told her.

Sandstorm was still taking care of Patchfoot in the outer cave, though by now the black-and-white warrior was growing stronger, the infection in his wound almost gone. When Firestar and Echo entered, he was crouched over a piece of fresh-kill, while Sandstorm sat nearby.

She rose to her paws and padded up to Echo to touch noses with her. “Welcome to SkyClan,” she meowed.

Echo glanced at Patchfoot, her eyes widening at the ugly wound on his shoulder. “How were you hurt?” she asked.

Patchfoot waved his tail in greeting and gulped down the last mouthful of blackbird. “Rat bite,” he replied when he could speak. “Sandstorm fixed me up, though.”

Sandstorm shook her head. “I don’t know as much as a real medicine cat—just a few useful remedies.”

Echo padded up to Patchfoot, politely asked, “May I?” and then gave his wound a good sniff. “What’s that I can smell?”

“Burdock root,” Sandstorm replied. “That’s best for rat bites, especially if they get infected. For ordinary wounds we usually use marigold. And cobwebs first of all, to stop the bleeding.”

Echo blinked admiringly. “You know so much!”

“I had great teachers.” Sandstorm caught Firestar’s eye as she spoke, and he knew she meant Spottedleaf as well as Cinderpelt. His heart warmed at the glow in her eyes, and he knew that at last she understood his connection to Spottedleaf, without feeling that the tortoiseshell cat was a threat.

One by one the cats leaped the cleft in the rock and landed on the flat surface of the Skyrock. A full moon floated in a sky without any clouds to hide the glitter of Silverpelt. Back in the forest, Firestar thought with a tug of homesickness, the Clans would be gathering at Fourtrees. Here there was only one Clan, but SkyClan would still gather to honor their warrior ancestors.

Rainfur and Petal had stayed behind to look after the kits, but almost all the Clan cats had assembled when Firestar spotted a group of three making their way up the trail: Sandstorm and Echo—and Patchfoot! Would the black-and-white warrior manage the leap?

He stepped forward, weaving his way between Sharpclaw and Rainfur, but before he could call out Sandstorm had leaped lightly across the gap and turned toward Patchfoot.

“Okay,” she meowed. “I’m ready.”

Patchfoot picked up his pace, though Firestar could see he was limping, and winced with pain when he put his injured leg to the ground. He launched himself into the air and landed with all four paws on the rock, but so close to the edge that he tottered, about to fall backward. Sandstorm sank her teeth into the loose fur on his uninjured shoulder and pulled him to safety. Last of all Echo leaped the gap and gave Patchfoot’s shoulder wound a careful sniff.

“Are you mouse-brained?” Firestar hissed, coming up to them. “What if you’d fallen?”

“I’m a member of this Clan.” Patchfoot faced him determinedly. “I wanted to be at our first Gathering.”

Gazing at the smoldering courage in his eyes, Firestar couldn’t go on being angry. “Okay,” he mewed, waving his tail.

“You’re here now. But for StarClan’s sake, be careful going back. You’re too good a warrior to lose.”

He jumped onto one of the tumbled boulders where the Skyrock met the cliff. When the rest of the Clan turned to face him, the pale glow of their eyes set every hair on his pelt pricking. Sharpclaw was scraping at the rock as if he couldn’t wait to sink his claws into a rat’s pelt. Cherrypaw crouched beside him, as ready for battle as her mentor. Clovertail and Shortwhisker sat side by side, their ears pricked. Leafdapple beckoned Sparrowpaw over to her with a sweep of her tail, and the two cats settled down to listen at the foot of Firestar’s rock.

Firestar knew he was seeing how loyal they were to their Clan, how determined to fight for their right to live in the gorge. In that moment he didn’t believe that anything, not even the rats, would overcome them.

“Cats of SkyClan,” he began, “when several Clans gather together, they exchange news of what has happened in the previous moon. We can’t do that, but we can share our news with one another. Does any cat have something to report?”

Leafdapple raised her tail. “I’d like to say how well Sparrowpaw’s hunting skills are coming along. He brought back more prey than any cat yesterday.”

“Excellent!” Firestar mewed, while Sparrowpaw licked his chest fur to cover his embarrassment.

“My apprentice is doing well, too.” Sharpclaw obviously didn’t intend to be outdone. “I promise you, she would have clawed my ear off this morning if Sandstorm hadn’t stopped her.”

“You just wait!” Cherrypaw muttered, only half joking.

“One day when Sandstorm isn’t around…”

Sharpclaw gave her an affectionate swipe across the haunches with his tail.

“Well done,” Firestar told her. “But please leave your mentor in one piece. We need him.”

Sandstorm stepped forward. “I’d like to say something about Petal, even though I know she isn’t a member of SkyClan. She volunteered to stay with the kits tonight, so that Clovertail could come here. And she’s been so helpful collecting herbs in the forest. I don’t know what Echo and I would have done without her.”

“I’ll mention it to her,” Firestar promised.

“There’s something else I want to say,” Sharpclaw meowed. “We haven’t seen so much as the hair of a rat since their leader spoke to us by the Twoleg barn. What are we going to do about them?”

“You know what we’re doing,” Firestar replied. “The patrols, the battle training—”

Sharpclaw lashed his tail. “But none of that is getting rid of the rats. Why don’t we go out there and sort them out once and for all?”

“It’s not the right time yet.”

“At this rate it will never be the right time.” Sharpclaw bared his teeth. “How long do you expect us to live with the threat hanging over us?”

“Not much longer, I hope,” Firestar replied. “I hate waiting as much as you do. If you’re willing, I think we should attack as soon as Patchfoot is fit.”

“It won’t be long,” Patchfoot put in. “I could fight now if I had to.”

“You’ll fight when Sandstorm says you can,” Firestar told him. “Sharpclaw, does that answer your question?”

Sharpclaw hesitated before giving him a curt nod. Firestar thought he still didn’t look happy about the decision, but as important as it was to know when to attack, it was just as important to know when to hold back.

When no other cat spoke, Firestar beckoned to Echo.

“Cats of SkyClan,” he called, “tonight, under this moon, we welcome a new Clanmate and make her a member of the Clan before the spirits of our ancestors. I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan and mentor to SkyClan, call upon their warrior ancestors to look down upon this cat,” he went on. “She has walked with you in dreams, and I commend her to you as a member of SkyClan.” Leaping down from the boulder to stand in front of Echo, he went on. “Echo, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and serve this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Echo raised her head. “I do.”

“Then before the spirits of your ancestors I give you your name. From this moment you will be known as Echosong.

StarClan honors your wisdom and faith, and we receive you into SkyClan.”

He rested his muzzle on Echosong’s head, and she licked his shoulder in return.

“Echosong… Echosong…” The name swept across the Skyrock like a breeze, while the warriors of StarClan blazed down.

Thank you, Skywatcher, Firestar thought.

A few sunrises after the Gathering, Firestar padded down the trail to the river to find Sandstorm sorting out the day’s duties. The sun was shining, but there was a crisp tang in the air that promised frost. Leaf-fall was on its way, bringing darker days and less cover for prey to hide in.

“But I’m fed up with rat patrol!” Cherrypaw was protesting. “Why can’t I go hunting instead?”

“Because Sandstorm put you on rat patrol.” Sharpclaw gave her ear a sharp flick with his tail. “Don’t argue.”

Cherrypaw gave him a look of smoldering anger. “The stupid rats aren’t going to come anyway,” she muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

Firestar paused, narrowing his eyes. If the Clan was starting to think like this, they would quickly lose their battle edge. The sooner they could attack, the better.

“Leafdapple, it’s your turn to go on watch,” Sandstorm continued. “Sparrowpaw is up there now, so you can send him down for battle training.”

The tabby she-cat waved her tail in acknowledgment and set off up the trail toward the Skyrock. Sharpclaw followed her on the rat patrol with Cherrypaw and Shortwhisker.

When they had gone, Firestar padded up to Sandstorm.

“How’s Patchfoot?”

“A lot better.” Sandstorm twitched her ears to where the black-and-white warrior was standing a little way downstream with Rainfur and Clovertail. “He’s going on hunting patrol this morning, just to see how his shoulder holds up.”

“Good. I’ll have a word with him when he gets back.”

As he was speaking, Echosong appeared from her den, bounded lightly down the rocks, and went up to Patchfoot.

She gave his shoulder a careful sniff, then stood back as the hunting patrol waved their tails in farewell and set off downriver. Patchfoot seemed to be walking as well as any cat.

“Echosong has done a marvelous job so far,” Sandstorm murmured. “She just seems to know what’s right. And she learns so quickly! Soon there won’t be anything more I can teach her.”

But her words gave Firestar another reason to worry.

Without another medicine cat, how could Echosong learn everything she needed to serve her Clan properly? Sandstorm could teach her some things about herbs and treat-ments, but a true medicine cat’s training took many moons, and included mysteries that no other Clan cat knew about.

When the hunting patrol had gone, Echosong padded upstream and joined Firestar and Sandstorm at the base of the Rockpile. “I’m ready,” she mewed to Sandstorm.

Firestar flicked his ears inquiringly.

“I’m going to give Echosong some battle training,” Sandstorm explained.

Echosong nodded. “Sandstorm says medicine cats don’t usually fight, but they need to be able to defend themselves and their Clanmates.”

“You might have to, soon,” Firestar meowed.

They set off toward the training area, joined by Sparrowpaw, who came bounding down the trail from the Skyrock. At the top of the Rockpile, Firestar heard an excited squeal, and spotted Petal shepherding all five kits from the nursery. He waited for them to catch up, while Sandstorm and the others went on.

“We want to watch the training.” Bouncekit scrambled up beside Firestar. “Petal says we can.”

“I hope that’s okay,” Petal added. “It’ll give me the chance to do some training myself. You know, in case the rats attack.”

She lowered her voice and shot a nervous glance at Mint and Sage, stumbling after the older kits.

“Yes, that’s fine,” Firestar replied. Calling after the kits, he added, “Keep away from the fighting. There’ll be claws unsheathed, and I don’t want any of you hurt.”

“When can we learn to fight?” Tinykit asked as they went on up the gorge.

“Soon,” Petal mewed. “When you’re apprentices.”

“What about us?” Mint asked. “Can we be apprentices too?”

“No,” his mother told him. “We don’t belong to SkyClan.”

“But that’s not fair!” Sage wailed. “Why don’t we?”

Petal gave her a gentle tap with her tail. “You’re too little to understand.”

“Is that why they don’t have ‘kit’ in their names, like us?”

Rockkit asked.

Firestar nodded. “If Rainfur and Petal decide to join the Clan, then Mint and Sage will have new names.”

Mint’s ears pricked up. “You’ve got to stay,” he mewed to his mother. “Please!”

Petal shook her head. “It’s not as easy as that.”

They arrived at the training area, where Sandstorm and Sparrowpaw were already sparring. Firestar was impressed by the tabby tom’s speed, flashing past Sandstorm to strike a blow on her shoulder before she had time to dodge.

“Now you, Echosong,” Sandstorm meowed. “You’ve watched Sparrowpaw do that move enough times—see if you can copy him.”

The young cat stepped forward, but before she could face Sandstorm they were interrupted by a loud wail of fright from Sage. Firestar’s head whipped around. The tiny kit had climbed up onto a rock and was teetering at the very top.

Before any cat could reach her she lost her balance and rolled to the bottom in a flurry of legs and tail.

Petal bounded over to her. She sat up, holding out one paw.

“It hurts,” she whimpered.

Instantly Echosong was beside her, sniffing at the injured paw. “You’ve snagged a claw,” she murmured, giving it a few gentle licks. “I know how painful that can be, but it’ll be okay soon.”

As she went on licking, Sage’s whimpering died away.

“You’re making it feel better,” she mewed.

“You’re very brave,” Echosong told the tiny kit. “Just like a warrior. Try standing on your paw now.”

Sage got up and gingerly put her injured paw to the ground. “It feels fine. Thanks,” she added as she scampered off to join her littermate and the other kits. “I’m a warrior,” she boasted. “Echosong said so.”

Echosong looked after the kit, her eyes glimmering with amusement.

“Well done,” Firestar murmured in her ear.

The young cat turned to him. “A snagged claw is easy.” But Firestar could see that her eyes were glowing with new confidence.

As Patchfoot’s shoulder improved even more, Sandstorm agreed he could return to limited battle training.

“He’s trying hard, but he’s still slow,” she reported to Firestar. “And he gets tired easily.”

“He’s not ready to face the rats?” Firestar asked.

“Not yet,” Sandstorm replied.

Firestar began to wonder whether they should attack without Patchfoot. He could stay behind with Echosong and one of the nursing queens to defend the camp. Tension among the other cats was building. Sharpclaw and Rainfur, normally the best of friends, almost came to blows over a piece of fresh-kill, while Shortwhisker looked perpetually on edge, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected to see a rat sneaking up on him. Even the kits were affected, boldly playing at rat attacks during the day, but scurrying back to the nursery at any unexpected noise.

But where are they? Firestar wondered. Although he tried to act normally around the cats, fear stalked him day and night.

They threatened to kill us. Why haven’t they come?

He knew the answer already, the same answer he had given Sparrowpaw on the day they traveled to the Twolegplace and found Echosong. The rats hoped to weaken the Clan by keeping them in suspense. They would attack when they were ready.

Firestar returned from the last hunting patrol of the day to find Echosong waiting for him beside the river where it flowed out from the rocks. The gorge lay in shadow, the last scarlet rays of sunset fading from the sky.

Depositing his fresh-kill on the pile, Firestar padded over to her.

“Firestar, I must talk to you,” she mewed. Her eyes were huge and troubled. She looked away to gaze at the smooth curve of water where it left the cave. “When we met in the Twolegplace,” she began, “I told you that I dreamed of starry cats.”

“Yes, that’s how I knew SkyClan’s warrior ancestors had sent you to be SkyClan’s medicine cat,” Firestar reminded her.

Echosong heaved a deep sigh. “But what if you were wrong?” Before Firestar had a chance to reply, she went on, her words forced out as if it hurt to say them aloud. “I haven’t dreamed of those cats since I came here. Not once.”

Firestar swallowed hard. “You dreamed of them before,” he assured her, trying not to let his alarm show in his voice.

“You will dream of them again. They know where to find you.”

“Then why have my dreams stopped?”

Firestar shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it would help if you went up to the Skyrock to sleep,” he suggested.

“That’s always been the place where SkyClan were closest to their warrior ancestors.”

Echosong’s eyes brightened, and her claws flexed in the ground. “I’ll sleep there tonight!” she exclaimed.

Firestar pressed his muzzle encouragingly against her shoulder. “I’ll come with you.”

Night had fallen when the two cats leaped the rift to land on the Skyrock. Silverpelt glittered frostily above, and the moon had waned to the thinnest claw scratch. Firestar fluffed his fur out against the probing wind. “Where’s the cat on watch?”

The whole flat expanse of the rock was empty, gleaming faintly in the starlight. Firestar’s paws tingled, and he drew in a long breath, tasting the air.

“Can you scent rats?” Echosong asked, her eyes wary.

“No. All I can scent is cat.” Firestar padded across to the tumbled boulders near the cliff face, and peered into the deepest shadows. When his eyes adjusted to the dark, he made out a curled-up tabby shape. Shortwhisker.

Firestar felt a growl rising in his throat. He prodded Shortwhisker with one paw. “Wake up.”

Shortwhisker stirred, his ears twitching. “Uh… wha…?”

Firestar prodded him again, harder. This time Shortwhisker sprang to his paws, his fur bristling. “Are the rats here?”

“No,” Firestar replied. “But no thanks to you. What do you think you’re doing, sleeping when you should be on watch?”

Shortwhisker gazed around wildly; it was obvious he had no idea where he was or what he was doing there. Then shocked realization flooded into his eyes, and he hung his head.

“I’m sorry, Firestar.”

“‘Sorry’ catches no prey,” Firestar snapped. “What if the rats had attacked? We could all have been killed.”

“I know. I’m really sorry.” Shortwhisker scrabbled on the rock with his forepaws. “I’m just so tired.”

“We’re all tired,” Firestar replied, though his anger was ebbing. Was he expecting too much of the SkyClan warriors, to prepare for the rat attack with every scrap of strength they had? “All right,” he went on with a sigh. “I have to be up here now, so you can go and catch up on your sleep in the warriors’ den. Who has the next watch?”

“Rainfur.”

“Okay, I’ll wake him when it’s time.”

Shortwhisker dipped his head and began pacing across the rock toward the cleft. Then he stopped and glanced back, his eyes filled with shame. “I really am sorry,” he repeated. “It won’t happen again.”

Firestar just nodded, and watched him walk off in silence, his head down and his tail dragging on the rock. He leaped the cleft and disappeared down the trail.

When he had gone, Echosong padded up to join Firestar; she looked thoughtful. “Are there herbs for strength?” she asked. “Or to help cats keep awake?”

“Strength… juniper berries, I think,” Firestar replied.

“Sandstorm might know. But I never heard of herbs to keep cats awake.”

“A real medicine cat would know.” There was a trace of bitterness in Echosong’s voice.

Firestar couldn’t help remembering the last time she had stood on the Skyrock in the light of the full moon, brimming with confidence as she was given her Clan name. Her confidence had waned with the moon, until it was no more than the tiny curved claw that shone above their heads.

“Try to sleep,” he suggested. “See if StarClan will speak to you here.”

Obediently the silver-gray tabby curled up in the shelter of one of the boulders. Soon her light, regular breathing told Firestar she was asleep. He sat beside her, watching the stars, while his ears were pricked and he kept tasting the air for the first signs of approaching rats.

The moon crept across the sky. There were no sounds except for the distant ripple of the river and the soft hissing of the wind. At last Echosong stirred, blinking and looking up at Firestar. He didn’t need to ask what her dreams had been; the desolation in her eyes told him enough.

“I think the starry cats have left me forever,” she mewed.

Firestar reached down to give the top of her head a comforting lick. “Did you dream at all?”

“Yes, I thought I was standing on a stretch of moorland.

There was mist all around me. I couldn’t see anything, but I could sense cats nearby, and I knew they were terribly frightened. And I knew one cat was calling out to me, but I couldn’t hear what he wanted to say. He was always out of reach.”

Firestar felt his neck fur bristle. “I think you dreamed of the first SkyClan fleeing the forest,” he explained. “I’ve had dreams like that too. The cat who was trying to call to you might have been their leader.”

Echosong brightened momentarily, but then the hope faded from her eyes. “It wasn’t a proper medicine cat dream, then.”

“All dreams can be medicine cat dreams,” Firestar told her.

“I’m not sure anymore that I’m meant to be a medicine cat.” Echosong shook her head, sighing. “Maybe it’s because I was born a kittypet.”

“I was born a kittypet too.” Echosong looked at him in astonishment, and he went on. “But StarClan still chose me to save my Clan and become its leader. Besides, all cats were wild once, even the ancestors of kittypets.”

“Truly?”

“Once there were three Clans of giant cats.” Firestar remembered the legends that he had learned when he first became an apprentice in ThunderClan. “LionClan, TigerClan, and LeopardClan. They roamed the forest freely and they were never owned by Twolegs. And a little of their wildness lives on in the heart of every cat.”

“Even in kittypets?”

“In every cat,” Firestar repeated. “Echosong, don’t give up.

You dreamed of SkyClan’s warrior ancestors before, and you’ll dream of them again. Dreams can’t be summoned.

They’re sent, and you’ll just have to be patient. SkyClan’s ancestors will come to you when they have something to say.”

Echosong murmured agreement, but Firestar wasn’t sure he had convinced her. Giving her a last reassuring lick, he rose to his paws and went to wake Rainfur for the next watch.

On the next night, for all his weariness, Firestar found it hard to sleep. After shifting around in his nest for what felt like several moons, he padded out of the warriors’ cave to sit on the ledge outside and watch pale dawn light growing over the gorge.

After a little while he smelled Sandstorm’s sweet scent and felt her tongue rasping warmly over his ear. “I couldn’t sleep either,” she murmured.

Firestar turned his head to gaze into her eyes. “If we’re going to attack the rats it has to be soon,” he mewed. “But is that the right thing to do? Was I right to tell SkyClan that this is their home and they should fight for it?”

Sandstorm’s whiskers twitched in surprise. “What else are they going to do? Scatter and live as rogues and kittypets again?”

“There is another alternative.” Firestar took a deep breath.

“We could take them back to the forest.”

“What, after everything we’ve done to help them make a home here?”

“Why not? The ancestors of the forest Clans drove them out, and we know how wrong that was. Maybe now we’re supposed to bring them back.”

Sandstorm turned her head to smooth a piece of fur sticking up on her shoulder. “I suppose it could work,” she meowed. “They would have to split up and join the other four Clans, though. Now that the Twolegplace has been built, there isn’t room in the forest for a fifth Clan—that’s what caused all the trouble in the first place.”

“They won’t want to split up now,” Firestar warned.

“Somehow we would have to find a way of dividing the territory along new boundary lines.”

Sandstorm’s tail lashed. “There isn’t a way. You saw that for yourself when Scourge tried to move in with BloodClan.

SkyClan’s territory was lost when the Twolegs built their Twolegplace. The forest won’t support an extra Clan now.”

Firestar knew she was right, but guilt filled him up like rain filling an upturned leaf. Was he agreeing just because in his heart he didn’t want to give up any of his Clan’s territory?

Did that make him as bad as the original Clans who had driven SkyClan into exile?

Sandstorm pressed her muzzle against his. “There’s no point working yourself up,” she mewed. “SkyClan don’t want to go back to the forest. This is where they feel at home. You know,” she added, with a flick of her tail, “you’re only saying this because you’re afraid of leading them to their deaths. You need to trust their warrior ancestor who told you to come here and rebuild the Clan. He won’t let the rats wipe SkyClan out.”

“I suppose—” Firestar stopped talking, distracted by movement in the shadowy gorge below. Gazing down, he spotted Echosong climbing to the top of the Rockpile and making her way across to the other side of the river.

“Where is she going?” he wondered out loud.

He set off after her, but by the time he reached the bottom of the gorge, Echosong had disappeared. He tracked her by her scent across the Rockpile as far as the path that led beneath the rocks to the Whispering Cave. Quietly he slipped in after her, along the narrow ledge with the water gliding along just below his paws. Dawn light gleamed on the surface, fading behind him as he went further underground.

He found Echosong sitting by the water’s edge in the Whispering Cave, her paws tucked under her and her gaze fixed on the river as it silently slid by, green-black in the eerie half-light. At the sound of his approach she looked up. The pale light of the moss glimmered on her pelt and was reflected in her beautiful eyes.

“Echosong… ,” Firestar began.

“Tinykit just told me about hearing the voices,” she explained. Her eyes sparkled. “And it’s true, Firestar! I can hear them, too quiet to make out what they’re speaking, but they are all around me, welcoming me. Our warrior ancestors are here, just out of reach. When they are ready, they will come to me.”