Forest Of Secrets

Chapter 17

As he plunged into the stream Fireheart managed to keep one clawhold on the branch. He felt as if he were fighting a spiky wooden enemy, twigs that lashed at him and raked through his fur while his breath bubbled into the dark water. His head broke the surface briefly, but before he could gasp in air the branch twisted and rolled him under again.

Terror made him strangely calm, as if time had slowed down. Part of Fireheart’s mind told him to let go of the branch and fight his way to the surface, but he knew that if he did that he would risk his life; the current was far too strong for him to swim. The force of the water meant there was nothing he could do but dig his claws in and endure. StarClan help me! he thought frantically.

His senses were just beginning to ebb into a tempting darkness when the branch rolled over again and brought him back to the surface. Choking and spitting he clung to it, with water churning along on either side of him. He could not see the bank. He tried to haul himself farther out of the water, but his sodden fur was too heavy and his limbs were growing stiff with cold. He did not know how long he could hold on.

Just as he felt that he was about to let go, something brought the branch to a jarring stop. It shuddered along its whole length, almost throwing Fireheart off. As he clung on desperately, he heard a cat screech his name. Twisting his head, he saw that the other end of the branch was jammed against a rock that jutted out into the stream.

Longtail was crouched on the rock, leaning down toward him. “Move, kittypet!” he growled.

With his last drop of energy, Fireheart scrambled along the length of the branch. Twigs whipped across his face. He felt the branch lurch again and flung himself at the rock, his front paws scraping at it while his hind legs thrust through the water. His paws had barely touched stone when the branch was swept away from underneath him.

For a heartbeat Fireheart thought he would follow it. The rock was smooth; there was no purchase for his paws. Then Longtail reached down and Fireheart felt his teeth meet in the scruff of his neck. With the other cat’s help he managed to claw his way upward until he was crouching on the top of the rock. Shivering, he coughed up several mouthfuls of stream water before he looked up. “Thanks, Longtail,” he gasped.

The warrior’s face was expressionless. “It was nothing.”

Tigerclaw padded up from behind the rock. “Are you hurt?” he demanded. “Can you walk?”

Shakily, Fireheart pushed himself to his paws. Water streamed off his coat as he shook himself. “I-I’m fine, Tigerclaw,” he stammered.

Tigerclaw stepped backward to avoid the spinning droplets from Fireheart’s fur. “Watch it; we’re all wet enough already.” Approaching Fireheart again he gave a rapid sniff down the length of his body. “Back to camp for you,” he ordered. “In fact, we’ll all go back. No cat can get across that water; you’ve proved that, if nothing else.”

Fireheart nodded and wordlessly followed the deputy back into the forest. Colder and more tired than he could ever remember being before, he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep in a patch of sunlight.

But while his limbs felt like waterlogged stone, his mind was a whirlpool of fear and suspicion. Tigerclaw had sent him out onto the branch, when any cat could see it was dangerous. Fireheart couldn’t help wondering if Tigerclaw had deliberately dislodged it, to make sure that he was flung into the swollen stream.

Not if Longtail was watching, he decided. After all, Longtail had rescued him; much as Fireheart disliked Longtail, he had to admit that the pale tabby would stick rigidly to the Clan code when another warrior needed his help.

Even so, Tigerclaw could have shifted the branch without letting Longtail see, or perhaps Longtail hadn’t understood what was happening. Fireheart would have liked to ask him, but he knew that if he did the question would be reported to Tigerclaw.

Then he glanced at Tigerclaw, and saw the deputy glaring at him with unmasked hatred. As Fireheart met the amber stare, he saw Tigerclaw’s eyes narrow as if with an unspoken threat. And in that moment Fireheart knew that somehow Tigerclaw had tried to murder him. This time he had failed. But what about next time? Fireheart’s tired brain shied away from what was all too obvious. Next time, Tigerclaw would make sure he did not fail.

By the time he reached the camp, the warm newleaf sun had dried Fireheart’s fur, but he was so exhausted he could scarcely put one paw in front of another.

Sandstorm, who was sunning herself outside the warriors’ den, sprang up as soon as she saw him and bounded over to his side. “Fireheart!” she exclaimed. “You look awful! What happened?”

“Nothing much,” Fireheart mumbled. “I was—”

“Fireheart went for a swim, that’s all,” Tigerclaw interrupted. He looked down at the young warrior. “Come on. We need to report to Bluestar.” He strode across to the Highrock with Longtail at his heels. As Fireheart staggered after them, Sandstorm padded close beside him, pressing her warm body against his for support.

“Well?” Bluestar asked when the cats stood in front of her. “Did you find somewhere to cross?”

Tigerclaw shook his massive head. “It’s impossible. The water’s too high.”

“But every Clan should attend the Gathering,” Bluestar pointed out. “StarClan will be angry if we don’t try to find a dry route. Tigerclaw, tell me exactly where you went.”

Tigerclaw began to describe the events of the morning in more detail, including Fireheart’s attempt to cross by the branch. “It was brave but foolish,” he growled. “I thought he’d paid with his life.”

Sandstorm looked around, impressed, but Fireheart knew as well as Tigerclaw that he had had no choice about getting onto the branch.

“Be more careful in the future, Fireheart,” Bluestar warned. “You’d better see Yellowfang in case you’ve caught a chill.”

“I’m fine,” Fireheart told her. “I just need to sleep, that’s all.”

Bluestar’s eyes narrowed. “That was an order, Fireheart.”

Stifling a yawn, Fireheart bowed his head respectfully. “Yes, Bluestar.”

“Come to the den when you’ve finished,” meowed Sandstorm, giving him a lick. “I’ll fetch you some fresh-kill.”

Fireheart mewed his thanks and stumbled unsteadily to Yellowfang’s den. The clearing was empty, but when he called Yellowfang’s name the old medicine cat poked her head out of the gap in the rock.

“Fireheart? Great StarClan, you look like a squirrel that’s fallen out of its tree! What happened to you?”

She padded toward him as he explained. Cinderpaw limped out behind her and sat beside Fireheart, her blue eyes wide as she heard how he had nearly drowned.

Seeing her, Fireheart could not help remembering how she had been injured beside the Thunderpath—another accident arranged by Tigerclaw? Not to mention the cold-blooded murder of Redtail. His head spinning with fatigue, Fireheart wondered how he could possibly stop Tigerclaw before another cat died for the deputy’s ruthless ambition.

“Right,” rasped Yellowfang, interrupting his troubled thoughts. “You’re a strong cat, and you probably haven’t taken a chill, but we’ll check you to make sure. Cinderpaw, what should we look for when a cat gets a soaking?”

Cinderpaw sat up straight with her tail wrapped around her paws. Eyes fixed on Yellowfang, she recited, “Poor breathing, sickness, leeches in his fur.”

“Good,” grunted Yellowfang. “Off you go, then.”

Very carefully, Cinderpaw sniffed along the length of Fireheart’s body, parting his fur with one paw to make sure that no leeches had fastened themselves onto his skin. “Breathing okay, Fireheart?” she asked gently. “Do you feel sick?”

“No, everything’s fine,” Fireheart mewed. “I just want to sleep for a moon.”

“I think he’s all right, Yellowfang,” Cinderpaw reported. She pressed her cheek against Fireheart’s and gave him a couple of quick licks. “Just don’t go jumping in any more rivers, eh?”

Yellowfang let out a throaty purr. “All right, Fireheart, you can go and sleep now.”

Cinderpaw flicked up her ears in surprise. “Aren’t you going to check him as well? What if I’ve missed something?”

“No need,” meowed Yellowfang. “I trust you, Cinderpaw.” The old cat stretched, arching her skinny back, and then relaxed. “I’ve been meaning to say something to you for a while,” she went on. “I see so many mouse-brained cats around here that it’s a real joy to find one with some sense. You’ve learned quickly, and you’re good with sick cats.”

“Thank you, Yellowfang!” Cinderpaw burst out, her eyes round with surprise at Yellowfang’s praise.

“Be quiet, I haven’t finished. I’m getting old now, and it’s time I started to think about finding an apprentice. Cinderpaw, how would you feel about becoming ThunderClan’s next medicine cat?”

Cinderpaw leaped to her paws. Her eyes were sparkling and she quivered with excitement. “Do you really mean it?” she whispered.

“Of course I mean it,” Yellowfang growled. “I don’t talk for the pleasure of hearing my own voice, unlike some cats.”

“In that case, yes,” Cinderpaw murmured, lifting her head with dignity. “I’d like that better than anything in the whole world!”

Fireheart felt his heart begin to beat faster with happiness. He had worried so much for Cinderpaw, at first when he thought she might die, then when it became clear that her injured leg would stop her from becoming a warrior. He remembered how she had wondered desperately what she could make of her life. And now it looked as if Yellowfang had found the perfect solution. Seeing the young she-cat so happy and excited about the future was more than Fireheart had ever hoped for.

Fireheart went back to the warriors’ den on lighter paws to share fresh-kill with Sandstorm and then to sleep. When he awoke, the light in the den was red from the rays of the setting sun.

Graystripe was nudging him. “Wake up,” his friend meowed. “Bluestar has just called a meeting.”

Fireheart left the den to find Bluestar already standing on the top of the Highrock. Yellowfang was beside her, and when all the cats were assembled it was the old medicine cat who spoke first.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” she rasped, “I have an announcement to make. As you know, I am not a young cat. It’s time I took an apprentice. So I’ve chosen the only cat I can put up with.” Yellowfang let out an amused purr. “And the only cat who can put up with me. Your next medicine cat will be Cinderpaw.”

A chorus of pleased meows broke out. Cinderpaw sat at the foot of the rock, her eyes shining and her fur sleekly groomed. She lowered her head shyly as the Clan congratulated her.

“Cinderpaw.” Bluestar made herself heard above the noise. “Do you accept the post of apprentice to Yellowfang?”

Cinderpaw lifted her head to look up at her leader. “Yes, Bluestar.”

“Then at the half moon you must travel to Mothermouth, to be accepted by StarClan before the other medicine cats. The good wishes of all ThunderClan will go with you.”

Yellowfang half jumped, half slithered down from the rock, and padded up to Cinderpaw to touch noses with her. Then the rest of the Clan gathered around the new apprentice. Fireheart caught sight of Brackenpaw pressing close to his sister, his eyes glowing with pride, and even Tigerclaw went up to her and meowed a few words. It was clear that Cinderpaw was a popular choice for this important position.

As he waited to give Cinderpaw his congratulations, Fireheart could not help wishing that all his own problems could be solved as smoothly.