Rising Storm

Chapter 19

“Ravenpaw!” Fireheart sprang forward to give his old friend a welcoming nuzzle.

“It’s so good to see you, Fireheart!” Ravenpaw nudged him in return and turned his eyes to Sandstorm. “And can this really be Sandpaw?”

“Sandstorm!” the ginger she-cat corrected him sharply.

“Of course. The last time I saw you, you were half the size!” The black tom’s eyes narrowed. “How’s Dustpaw?”

Fireheart understood Ravenpaw’s wary tone. Sandstorm and Dustpelt had trained at the same time as him, and had viewed Ravenpaw more as a rival than a denmate. When Ravenpaw had fled from his mentor, Tigerclaw, and gone to live in the Twoleg territory beyond the uplands, Dustpaw and Sandpaw had not been sad to see him go. Fireheart doubted that Ravenpaw had missed them either.

“Dustpelt’s fine.” Sandstorm shrugged. “He has his own apprentice now.”

“And is this one your apprentice?” Ravenpaw asked, looking at Brightpaw.

Fireheart felt his ears twitch as Sandstorm answered curtly, “I don’t have an apprentice yet. This is Whitestorm’s. Her name is Brightpaw.”

The warm breeze ruffled the leaves at the tops of the trees. Fireheart glanced up at the noise. This unexpected meeting had disarmed him, and he’d let his guard slip. He scanned the undergrowth warily as he remembered the threat of Tigerclaw and his band of rogues. “What are you doing here, Ravenpaw?” he asked urgently.

Ravenpaw, who had been studying Sandstorm with a curious expression in his amber eyes, turned his head. “Looking for you.”

“Really? Why?” Fireheart knew it had to be important for Ravenpaw to come back to the forest. The young black cat had lived in constant fear after he had accidentally witnessed Tigerclaw killing Redtail, the ThunderClan deputy. When Tigerclaw had tried to kill Ravenpaw too, to keep him quiet, Fireheart and Graystripe had helped their friend escape. Ravenpaw now lived on a Twoleg farm with Barley, another loner—a cat who wasn’t a kittypet, nor part of a forest Clan. Ravenpaw must have a very good reason for returning to his old enemy’s territory now. After all, he had no way of knowing that Tigerclaw’s treachery had been revealed and he had been driven out of ThunderClan. As far as Ravenpaw knew, Tigerclaw was still the deputy.

Ravenpaw flicked his tail uneasily. “A cat has come to live on the edge of my territory,” he began.

Fireheart stared at him, confused, and Ravenpaw tried to explain. “I found him while I was out hunting. He was scared and lost. He didn’t say much, but he smelled of ThunderClan.”

“ThunderClan?” Fireheart echoed.

“I asked him if he had come over the uplands, but he didn’t seem to have any idea where he was. So I took him back to the Twoleg nest where he said he was living.”

“So he was a kittypet?” Sandstorm was staring intently at the black cat. “Are you sure it was ThunderClan you smelled on him?”

“I wouldn’t forget the scent I was born to,” Ravenpaw retorted. “And he didn’t seem like the usual sort of kittypet. In fact he didn’t seem at all pleased to be back with his Twolegs.”

A glimmer of excitement sparked in Fireheart’s belly, but he forced himself to stay silent until Ravenpaw had finished his story.

“I couldn’t get his scent out of my mind. I went back to the Twoleg nest to speak to him again, but he was shut in. I tried to talk to him through a window, but the Twoleg chased me away.”

“What color was this cat?” Fireheart felt Sandstorm glance sharply at him.

“White,” replied Ravenpaw. “He had a fluffy white pelt.”

“But…that sounds like Cloudpaw!” It was Brightpaw who spoke.

“Then you know him?” Ravenpaw meowed. “Was I right? Is he a ThunderClan cat?”

Fireheart hardly heard Ravenpaw’s words. Cloudpaw was safe! He began to circle his old friend, his paws tingling with joy and relief. “Was he okay? What did he say?”

“W-well,” stammered Ravenpaw, turning his head to follow Fireheart as he padded around him. “Like I said, the first time I met him he seemed utterly lost.”

“That’s not surprising. He’s never been outside ThunderClan territory before.” Fireheart weaved impatiently around Sandstorm and Brightpaw. “He hasn’t made his journey to Highstones yet. There’s no way he’d know he was so close to home.”

Sandstorm nodded, and Ravenpaw remarked, “That would explain why he was so upset. He must have thought—”

“Upset?” Fireheart stopped pacing. “Why? Was he hurt?”

“No, no,” Ravenpaw mewed quickly. “He just seemed really miserable. I thought he’d cheer up when I showed him the way back to his Twoleg nest, but he still seemed unhappy. That’s why I came to find you.”

Fireheart looked down at his paws, hardly knowing what to think. He realized that he had been hoping that Cloudpaw would be happy in his new life, even if Fireheart never saw him again.

Ravenpaw blinked uncertainly. “Did I do the right thing in coming here?” he meowed. “Has this…er…Cloudpaw been banished from the Clan?”

Fireheart gravely met Ravenpaw’s gaze. The black cat had risked his life coming here; he deserved an explanation. “Cloudpaw was stolen from the forest by Twolegs,” Fireheart began. “He was my apprentice, and my sister’s son. He’s been missing for a quarter moon. I…I was beginning to think I’d never see him again.”

Sandstorm glanced quizzically at Fireheart. “What makes you think you are going to see him again? He’s living in Ravenpaw’s territory with Twolegs.”

“I’m going to go and get him!” Fireheart declared.

“Go and get him? Why?”

“You heard Ravenpaw. He’s not happy!”

“Are you sure he wants rescuing?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Fireheart countered.

“I wouldn’t need rescuing. I wouldn’t have been taking food from Twolegs in the first place,” Sandstorm pointed out sharply.

There was a startled grunt from Ravenpaw, but the black cat said nothing.

“It would be good to have him back in the den,” Brightpaw put in, but Fireheart hardly heard her. He stared back at Sandstorm, the fur on his neck bristling with anger.

“You think Cloudpaw deserves to be left there, unhappy and alone?” he spat. “Just because he made a stupid mistake?”

Sandstorm snorted impatiently. “That’s not what I’m saying. You don’t even know for sure if he wants to come back.”

“Ravenpaw said he looked miserable,” Fireheart insisted. But even as he spoke, doubt flickered through his mind. What if Cloudpaw had gotten used to kittypet life by now?

“Ravenpaw only spoke to him once.” Sandstorm turned to Ravenpaw. “Did he look upset when you saw him through the Twoleg window?”

Ravenpaw’s whiskers twitched uncomfortably. “It’s hard to say. He was eating.”

Sandstorm whipped her head back to Fireheart. “He’s got a home, he’s got food, and you still think he needs rescuing. What about the Clan? They need you. Cloudpaw sounds like he’s safe. I say leave him there.”

Fireheart stared at Sandstorm. The fur across her shoulders was bristling, and her eyes glittered with determination. With a sinking feeling, Fireheart realized that she was right. How could he leave the Clan now, even for a short while, with Bluestar so weak and Tigerclaw and his band of rogues threatening them? All for the sake of a cat who had already proved to be a lazy, greedy apprentice.

But still, his heart told him he had to try. He couldn’t give up on his belief that Cloudpaw would make a great warrior one day, and the Clan needed all the warriors it could get right now.

“I have to go,” he meowed simply.

“And what if you do manage to bring him back?” Sandstorm argued. “Will he be safe in the forest?”

Fireheart felt a cold shiver run along his spine. Could he bear to bring Cloudpaw home, only to see him slaughtered by Tigerclaw? But even as uncertainty prickled in his paws, he knew what he was going to do. “I’ll be back by sunhigh tomorrow,” he meowed. “Tell Whitestorm where I’ve gone.”

Alarm stretched Sandstorm’s eyes wide. “You’re going right now?”

“I’ll need Ravenpaw to show me where he is, and I can’t expect him to hang around in the forest,” he explained. “Not with Tigerclaw on the loose.”

Ravenpaw’s tail fluffed up with sudden fear. “What do you mean? On the loose?”

Sandstorm shot Fireheart a wry look.

“Come on,” Fireheart meowed to the black cat. “I’ll explain as we go. The sooner we get moving, the better.”

“You’re not going without me,” Sandstorm told him. “It’s a mouse-brained journey, but you’ll need all the help you can get if you bump into Tigerclaw or a WindClan patrol!”

Fireheart felt a surge of joy at Sandstorm’s words. He glanced gratefully at her and turned to face Brightpaw. “Will you go back to the camp and tell Whitestorm where we’ve gone?” he asked the apprentice. “He knows Ravenpaw.”

Brightpaw’s eyes flashed with alarm, but she blinked it away and dipped her head. “Of course.”

“Go straight back home, and keep your ears low,” Fireheart ordered her, feeling a twinge of worry at leaving the young cat to travel alone.

“I’ll take care,” Brightpaw promised him earnestly. She turned and vanished into the undergrowth.

Fireheart pushed away his anxiety about the apprentice and began to trek through the ferns. Sandstorm and Ravenpaw fell into step beside him, and he was reminded of all the times he had hunted in the forest with Ravenpaw and Graystripe. But as the stifling forest air pressed down on him and his fur prickled with anticipation of the journey ahead, he couldn’t help wondering if he was leading them all into disaster.

The three cats raced through Fourtrees and climbed into WindClan territory. Fireheart remembered the last time he had been here, with Bluestar. They would be following the same route, straight across the uplands to the Twoleg farmland that lay between WindClan territory and Highstones. At least there was no breeze this time to carry their scents across the moor. The air on the uplands was unnaturally still, and so dry that Fireheart felt his fur crackle as it brushed through the heather.

He chose a trail that kept them as far as possible from the camp that lay at the heart of WindClan’s territory. The ground up here was usually peaty and wet, but now it had dried to a hard crust and the heather was browning in places, shriveled by the sun.

“So what’s happened to Tigerclaw?” Ravenpaw broke the silence without slowing his pace.

Fireheart had often looked forward to telling Ravenpaw that his old tormentor had been exposed at last. But now it seemed there was only darkness in the news about Tigerclaw’s treachery and banishment, and, since he had killed Runningwind, Fireheart stumbled over the story with a heart that ached with bitterness and regret.

Ravenpaw stopped dead in his tracks. “He killed Runningwind?”

Fireheart stopped too and nodded heavily. “Tigerclaw leads a band of rogues now, and he’s sworn to kill us all.”

“But who would follow such a leader?”

“Some of them are Brokentail’s old friends, who were exiled with him when we drove him out of ShadowClan.” Fireheart paused, forcing himself to revisit the scene of the recent battle in his mind. “But there were other cats that I hadn’t seen before. I don’t know where they’ve come from.”

“So Tigerclaw is more powerful than ever,” Ravenpaw mewed darkly.

“No!” Fireheart spat. “He’s an outcast now, not a warrior. He has no Clan. StarClan must oppose him as long as he breaks the warrior code. Without a Clan or the warrior code to support him, there’s no way Tigerclaw can defeat ThunderClan.” Fireheart fell silent, realizing that he had spoken with a conviction he had hardly been aware of until now. Sandstorm was staring proudly at him.

“I hope you’re right,” Ravenpaw meowed.

Me too, thought Fireheart. He began to pad onward once more, narrowing his eyes against the glaring sun.

“Of course he’s right,” Sandstorm insisted, following.

Ravenpaw fell into step beside Sandstorm. “Well, I’m just glad I’m out of it.”

She glanced at him accusingly. “Don’t you miss Clan life at all?”

“I did in the beginning,” Ravenpaw admitted. “But now I have a new home, and I like it there. I’ve got Barley for company if I want, and that’s plenty for me. I’d rather have that than Tigerclaw any day.”

Sandstorm’s eyes glittered. “How do you know he won’t come looking for you?”

Ravenpaw’s ears twitched.

“Tigerclaw has no idea where you are,” Fireheart told him quickly. He flashed a warning glance at Sandstorm. “Come on; let’s get out of WindClan’s territory.”

He quickened the pace until they were racing through the heather too fast to speak. He avoided the swathe of gorse where he and Bluestar had met Mudclaw, and instead led them in a broad circle across the open moor. The barren hillside offered no protection from the sun, and Fireheart felt as if his pelt were on fire by the time they reached the slope that led down to Twoleg territory. The valley stretched out below them, patched with meadows and paths and Twoleg nests like the dappled coat of a tortoiseshell.

“The WindClan cats must have been keeping out of the heat in their camp,” he meowed, puffing as they ran down the hillside. “Let’s hope the rest of the journey is this easy.”

They reached a copse of trees, and Fireheart welcomed the cool shade and the familiar woodland smells. High above them two buzzards circled with high-pitched calls, and he could hear the rumbling of a Twoleg monster in the distance. His aching legs tempted him to lie down and rest for a while, but his longing to find Cloudpaw drove him on.

As they padded through the trees, Sandstorm stared around with her whiskers trembling. Fireheart realized that she had traveled this far from ThunderClan territory only once before, when she had accompanied Bluestar to the Moonstone as an apprentice. It was a journey all cats had to make before they became warriors. Fireheart had been here several times, not just to visit Highstones, but to see Ravenpaw and to lead WindClan out of exile. But it was Ravenpaw who was most at home in these woods.

“We can’t hang around here,” the black cat warned. “Especially not this time of day. Twolegs like to walk their dogs here.”

Fireheart could smell the scent of dog nearby. He flattened his ears and followed Ravenpaw in silence as the black tom led them out of the copse.

Ravenpaw squeezed through the hedge first. Fireheart waited for Sandstorm to go next, then pushed his way through the thickly tangled leaves. He recognized the red dirt track on the other side. He had crossed it with Graystripe on their journey to find the exiled WindClan. Ravenpaw looked both ways before racing across and disappearing into the far hedgerow at the other side. Sandstorm glanced at Fireheart, and he nodded encouragingly. She darted forward, and Fireheart followed at her heels.

The barley in the field beyond the hedge stretched high above their heads. Instead of skirting the edge, Ravenpaw headed straight into the forest of crackling stems. Fireheart and Sandstorm weaved after him, hurrying so they didn’t lose sight of the black cat’s tail flicking ahead of them. Fireheart felt a ripple of unease as he realized he could never find his way out alone. He had lost all sense of direction, with nothing to see but the endless golden stems and a strip of clear blue sky above. He was very relieved when they finally emerged and sat down to rest under the hedge on the far side of the field. They were making good progress. The sun was only halfway down the sky and the uplands were already far behind them.

Fireheart smelled a familiar scent on the hedge beside him. “Your marker,” he commented to Ravenpaw.

“This is where my territory begins.” Ravenpaw swung his head around, signaling that the wide sweep of fields ahead of them was where he lived and hunted.

“Then Cloudpaw is near here?” asked Sandstorm, sniffing warily.

“There’s a dip on the other side of that rise,” Ravenpaw told her, pointing with his nose. “The Twoleg nest is there.”

Fireheart suddenly felt the fur on his spine tingle. What was that smell? He froze and opened his mouth to let the scent reach the glands inside.

Beside him Ravenpaw had lifted his nose, his black ears pricked and his tail flicking nervously. His eyes widened in alarm. “Dogs!” he hissed.