Rising Storm

Chapter 16

Fireheart’s claws felt rooted to the Thunderpath as he stared at the cat that had cast a menacing shadow over his life for so long. There was no need for any pretense of shared Clan loyalty now. Tigerclaw was an outcast, the enemy of all cats who followed the warrior code.

The fiery evening sun bled through the tips of the trees, its orange rays glowing on the dark pelt of the massive tabby. Across the silence of the deserted Thunderpath, Tigerclaw sneered at Fireheart.

“Is chasing puny cats to their deaths the best you can do to defend your territory?”

Fireheart’s mind cleared in a heartbeat, leaving his body pulsing with strength and cold fury. He stared straight into Tigerclaw’s eyes as the thundering of another monster stirred his ear fur. He held his ground as it whipped by him, another roaring at its heels. But Fireheart felt no fear. In the fleeting gap between the two monsters he focused on Tigerclaw and sprang.

Tigerclaw’s eyes widened with surprise as Fireheart crashed into him, claws unsheathed and hissing with rage. They rolled together across the grass into the cover of the trees. Fireheart drew strength from the familiar scents of the forest—his territory now, not Tigerclaw’s—and the pair struggled wildly, flattening the brittle undergrowth and gouging deep scars in the ground with their claws.

Fireheart had gotten a good grip on Tigerclaw in his first pounce. He could feel every one of the tabby’s ribs. Tigerclaw had lost weight, but his muscles felt hard beneath his thick pelt, and Fireheart quickly realized that exile had not diminished the warrior’s strength. Tigerclaw crouched and leaped upward, twisting in midair. Fireheart felt himself being flung from Tigerclaw’s back, felt the impact of the parched ground as he landed on his side. He gasped for the air that had been knocked from his lungs and struggled to his paws. He wasn’t fast enough. Tigerclaw pounced on him, pinning him to the ground with claws that seemed to pierce Fireheart to the bone.

Fireheart yowled in agony, but the massive tom held him down, and he smelled the stench of crowfood as Tigerclaw stretched his neck forward to hiss into Fireheart’s ear, “Are you listening, kittypet? I will kill you, and all your warriors, one by one.”

Even in the heat of battle, his words sent a chill through Fireheart. He knew Tigerclaw meant what he said. He suddenly became aware of new noises and smells around him—the rustle of unfamiliar paws and strange cat scents. They were surrounded. But by whom? Confused by the scents of the Thunderpath, Whitethroat’s blood, and his own fear, Fireheart wondered bleakly if these could be the remaining cats from Brokentail’s band of outcasts, who not long ago had helped Tigerclaw attack the ThunderClan camp. Had Whitethroat chosen to join these rogues rather than return to his own disease-ridden Clan?

In desperation Fireheart pushed up with his hind legs, his claws raking for a hold on Tigerclaw’s belly. His old enemy must have underestimated how strong Fireheart had grown, for his grip loosened and he slithered onto the ground. Fireheart scrabbled away from him, lifting his head in time to see Mousefur and Whitestorm hurl themselves from the undergrowth onto two of the cats that had surrounded them. He glanced back at Tigerclaw, who had sprung to his paws and was rearing onto his hind legs, towering over Fireheart with his teeth bared and his amber eyes gleaming with hatred. He ducked as Tigerclaw lunged, darting forward and turning to swipe the dark warrior on the nose. Beside him he could hear the yowls and hisses of Whitestorm and Mousefur as they battled with the courage of StarClan. But they were badly outnumbered. As Fireheart dodged Tigerclaw once more, he looked around desperately for any means of escape. Claws raked at his hind legs, and he turned to see one of Tigerclaw’s rogues grasping him and snarling viciously. He was skinny and ungroomed like the others, his eyes glittering with spite.

Tigerclaw reared up again with a furious hiss. Fireheart was bracing himself for Tigerclaw’s blow when he saw a blaze of gray. A broad pair of shoulders flashed past, and Fireheart recognized a warrior he had fought alongside many times before.

Graystripe!

The gray warrior lunged at Tigerclaw’s exposed belly, knocking him backward. Fireheart whipped around and bit the shoulder of the cat that clung to his hind leg until he felt his teeth scrape against bone. He released the rogue when he squealed, and spat out the blood that had dripped into his mouth.

Astounded, Fireheart looked at the battle that raged around him. Graystripe must have brought a whole RiverClan patrol, for now it was the rogue cats who were outnumbered as they struggled against the sleek-furred warriors. He turned to see Graystripe twisting free of Tigerclaw’s grasp and sprang to help his friend. Together they reared at Tigerclaw, swiping at him to drive him backward, matched step for step as they had practiced so many times in training. Then, without even exchanging a glance, they lunged as one and forced the massive tabby onto the ground. Tigerclaw let out a muffled hiss as Fireheart pressed his foe’s muzzle into the dirt while Graystripe grasped the tabby’s shoulders and pounded his flank with his hind legs.

Fireheart heard screeches fading into the woods and realized that the rogue cats were fleeing the battle. Tigerclaw took advantage of Fireheart’s lapse of attention and wriggled free. He fled toward the brambles, spitting with fury, and disappeared among the barbed stems.

As the wails of the rogue cats faded away, the warriors shook the dust from their pelts and licked their wounds. Fireheart realized for the first time that Bluestar’s son, Stonefur, was among the RiverClan cats. “Is anyone badly hurt?” he gasped.

The cats shook their heads, even Mousefur, who was still bleeding from the first attack.

“We should return to our own territory,” meowed Stonefur.

“ThunderClan thanks you for your help.” Fireheart dipped his head respectfully.

“Rogue cats threaten all of us,” Stonefur replied. “We couldn’t leave you to fight them alone.”

Whitestorm shook his muzzle, scattering drops of blood. He looked at Graystripe. “It’s good to fight beside you again, friend. What brought you here?”

“He heard Fireheart’s yowl from Fourtrees, where we were patrolling,” Stonefur answered for Graystripe. “He persuaded us to come and help.”

“Thanks,” answered Fireheart warmly. “All of you.”

Stonefur nodded and turned away into the trees. His patrol followed. Fireheart touched Graystripe with his muzzle as he passed, sorry to see him leave, and painfully aware that there was no time to say as much as he wanted. “See you, Graystripe,” he meowed.

He felt Graystripe’s purr rumbling through his thick coat. “See you,” murmured the gray warrior.

Fireheart shivered as the sun finally disappeared from the forest. He could see Mousefur’s eyes shining in the dark, tense with pain. Then he felt a fresh wave of sorrow as he remembered the price that had been paid for the rogue cats’ attack. Runningwind’s body would be growing cold by now. And this was not the only untimely death Tigerclaw had brought to the forest that day.

Fireheart looked at Whitestorm. “Can you and Mousefur get Runningwind back to camp without me?”

The white warrior narrowed his eyes curiously but said nothing and nodded.

Fireheart twitched his ear. “I’ll follow you back soon. There’s something I must do first.”