Forest Of Secrets

Chapter 27

“Run!” Fireheart ordered his apprentice. “Run like you’ve never run before!”

Already he was pelting through the trees, not waiting to see if Cloudpaw could keep up. There was just a faint hope that he could outpace Tigerclaw and the rogues, and warn the Clan.

He sent out all those patrols this morning, Fireheart thought, fighting back panic. And he told me to follow Cloudpaw. He left the camp with barely a warrior to defend it. He’s been planning this all along!

Fireheart hurtled through the trees, his powerful muscles bunching and stretching as he drove himself on. But when he reached the ravine, he realized that he had not run fast enough. The hindquarters and tails of the last of the rogues were just vanishing into the gorse tunnel.

Launching himself down the steep side of the ravine, with Cloudpaw scrabbling down behind him, Fireheart let out a yowl. “ThunderClan! Enemies! Attack!” He hurled himself into the tunnel and at the same moment he heard another yowl from the camp ahead.

“To me, ThunderClan!”

It was the familiar battle cry, but the voice was Tigerclaw’s. A thought flickered into Fireheart’s shocked mind: What if he had made a mistake? What if the rogues had been chasing Tigerclaw, not following him?

He burst into the clearing just as Tigerclaw whirled on the band of rogues, who scattered, yowling, from his attack. The deputy certainly looked as if he were trying to drive enemies from the camp, but Fireheart was close enough to see that his claws were sheathed. His heart plummeted. Tigerclaw’s brave defense was all a sham. He had brought these enemy cats here, but he was cunning enough to conceal his own treachery.

There was no time for any more thought. However they had come here, the rogue cats were now attacking the camp. Fireheart turned swiftly to Cloudpaw.

“Go and find the patrols and tell them to come back,” he ordered. “Whitestorm is somewhere along the RiverClan boundary, and Sandstorm went to Snakerocks.”

“Yes, Fireheart.” Cloudpaw raced back into the tunnel.

Fireheart sprang at the nearest rogue, a dark mottled tabby, and raked his claws down his side. The rogue snarled and twisted toward him, paws splayed for attack. He tried to pin Fireheart down; Fireheart’s hindpaws pummeled his belly, and the rogue broke away howling.

Fireheart scrambled to his paws and crouched with tail lashing and fur bristling as he looked around for another enemy. Outside the entrance to the nursery, Graystripe was wrestling a rogue with a pale coat, the two of them rolling over and over as they tried to get hold with teeth and claws. Brindleface and Speckletail were fighting against a warrior twice their size. Near the warriors’ den, Mousefur dug her front claws into the shoulder of a huge tabby, while her back claws shredded his flank.

Then Fireheart froze with shock. At the other side of the clearing, Brokentail had pounced on his guard, Dustpelt, fastening his teeth in the younger cat’s throat. Dustpelt was struggling furiously to free himself. Though Brokentail was blind, he was still a formidable fighter, and he hung on. Fireheart realized with dread that he was fighting on the side of his old rogue companions, the cats who had left ShadowClan with him—not for ThunderClan, who had risked so much to defend him when he was injured and alone.

A tiny picture flashed into Fireheart’s mind, of Tigerclaw and Brokentail lying side by side, sharing tongues. That had not been evidence of the deputy’s compassion. Tigerclaw had been planning this with the former ShadowClan tyrant!

There was no time to think about that now. Fireheart plunged across the clearing to help Dustpelt, but before he got halfway he was bowled over by a rogue cat. His flank stung as claws raked down it. Green eyes glared a mouse-length from his own. Fireheart bared his fangs and tried to bite down into the enemy’s shoulder, but the rogue cat batted him away. Claws ripped into his ear. His belly was exposed and he couldn’t twist free. Suddenly his attacker let out a wail and released him. Fireheart caught a glimpse of the young apprentice Thornpaw with his teeth fastened into the rogue’s tail; the rogue dragged him through the dust until Thornpaw released him and the enemy fled.

Panting, Fireheart scrambled to his paws. “Thanks,” he gasped. “Well done.”

Thornpaw nodded briefly before racing off to where Graystripe still battled in front of the nursery. Fireheart looked around again. Dustpelt had vanished and Brokentail was stumbling farther into the clearing, letting out a weird wailing that struck a chill into Fireheart’s heart. Even blind, the former ShadowClan leader possessed a terrifying power that seemed driven by something more than mortal.

The clearing heaved with struggling cats, but as Fireheart poised himself to rejoin the fray he realized something that sent an even colder pang of fear along his spine. Where was Bluestar?

In a heartbeat, Fireheart realized that he couldn’t see Tigerclaw either. Every instinct told him that danger was looming. He dodged around Willowpelt, who was clinging to the back of a much bigger rogue, her teeth fastened in his ear, and made for Bluestar’s den. To his relief, as he approached the entrance he heard Bluestar meow from inside, “We can worry about that later, Tigerclaw. The Clan needs us now.”

For a few heartbeats there was no reply. Then Fireheart heard Bluestar’s voice again, surprised. “Tigerclaw? What are you doing?”

An answering snarl. “Remember me to StarClan, Bluestar.”

“Tigerclaw, what is this?” Bluestar’s meow was sharper now, edged with anger, not fear. “I’m the leader of your Clan, or have you forgotten that?”

“Not for much longer,” Tigerclaw growled. “I’m going to kill you, and kill you again. As many times as it takes for you to join StarClan forever. It’s time for me to lead this Clan!”

Bluestar’s answering protest was suddenly cut short by the sound of paws thudding against the hard floor of the den, followed by a dreadful snarling.