Rising Storm

Chapter 5

The ThunderClan leader had reached the top of the ravine by the time Fireheart caught up with her. She paused to sniff the air before padding into the forest. Fireheart noticed with relief how relaxed she seemed now that they were out of the camp, nosing her way through the undergrowth toward the RiverClan border.

Fireheart glanced in surprise at the she-cat. This wasn’t the quickest route to Fourtrees and the uplands beyond, but he didn’t question her. He couldn’t help feeling excited at the thought that he might catch a glimpse of Graystripe across the river.

The two cats met the RiverClan border above Sunningrocks and followed the scent markers upriver. A warm breeze carried the faint heather scent of the moor down to them. Fireheart could hear the river flowing past on the other side of the ferns. He craned his neck and saw the water glimmering in the dappled light under the trees. Above his head the leaves glowed green and flashed at the edges where the sunlight pierced the thick roof of the forest. Even in the shade, Fireheart felt hot. He wished he could plunge into the water like a RiverClan cat, to cool himself down.

Finally the river bent away, deeper into RiverClan territory, and Bluestar carried straight on, following the markers along the border between ThunderClan and RiverClan. Fireheart couldn’t stop glancing across the scentline, searching the woods beyond for any sign of RiverClan cats, wary of being spotted by a patrol but ever hopeful of seeing his old friend. Bluestar was leading them recklessly close to the border, even crossing it occasionally as they weaved through the undergrowth. Fireheart had no idea how RiverClan would react if they found them here. The two Clans had nearly come to conflict over Silverstream’s kits, and battle was averted only when Graystripe took his kits back to their mother’s Clan.

Suddenly Bluestar stopped and lifted her muzzle, opening her mouth to taste the air. She dropped into a crouch, and Fireheart, trusting Bluestar’s warrior instincts, flattened himself too, ducking behind a patch of nettles.

“RiverClan warriors,” Bluestar warned in a whisper.

Fireheart could smell them now. He felt his hackles rising as the scent grew stronger and he heard the swish of fur disturbing the undergrowth ahead of them. He raised his head very slowly and peered through the trees, his heart thumping as he searched for a familiar gray pelt. Beside him, Bluestar’s eyes were wide and her flanks barely moved as she took silent, shallow breaths. Was she hoping to see Graystripe too? Fireheart wondered. It hadn’t occurred to him before now that Bluestar might also want to run into some RiverClan cats. It would certainly explain why she had come this way.

But Fireheart couldn’t believe that it was Graystripe she wanted to see. Yesterday, in her confusion, she’d forgotten that the gray warrior had left the Clan, and Fireheart sensed that Bluestar’s mind was spinning with other thoughts. Then it hit him like a fledgling dropping into his paws: her kits. Many moons ago, the ThunderClan leader had given birth to two kits that had been raised in RiverClan. She’d entrusted them to their RiverClan father when they were barely old enough to leave their nest. Bluestar’s ambition and loyalty to her Clan had made it impossible for her to raise the kits herself. Now they lived as RiverClan warriors, unaware that their real mother came from ThunderClan. But Bluestar had never forgotten them, although only Fireheart knew her secret. It must be Stonefur and Mistyfoot that Bluestar was scanning the undergrowth for.

A glimpse of tawny mottled fur in the distance made Fireheart duck down again. That wasn’t Graystripe, or either of Bluestar’s offspring. A vaguely familiar scent confirmed to Fireheart the identity of the warrior. It was Leopardfur, the RiverClan deputy.

Fireheart glanced at Bluestar; she still had her head up, peering through the trees. The rustling of ferns warned Fireheart that Leopardfur was getting nearer. He felt his breath quicken. What would happen if she saw the ThunderClan leader so close to the RiverClan border?

Fireheart froze as the rustling in the bushes grew louder. He heard the RiverClan deputy stop, and her silence told him she had detected something. Staring desperately at Bluestar he was about to signal to her with his tail when she dropped her head and hissed in his ear, “Come on; we’d better head deeper into our own territory.”

Fireheart sighed with relief as the ThunderClan leader crept silently away. Keeping his ears flat and his belly to the ground, Fireheart followed her away from the scent markers and into the safety of ThunderClan’s woods.

“That Leopardfur moves so loudly, I should think even ShadowClan heard her coming,” remarked Bluestar once they were away from the border. Fireheart’s whiskers quivered with surprise. He had begun to wonder if Bluestar had forgotten how fiercely the Clans defended their boundaries, especially in these difficult times.

“She’s a good warrior, but too easily distracted,” Bluestar went on calmly. “She was more interested in that rabbit upwind than looking for enemy warriors.”

Fireheart couldn’t help feeling cheered by his leader’s confidence. Now that he thought about it, there had been the scent of rabbit on the breeze, but he’d been too worried about Leopardfur to take any notice of it.

“This reminds me of the days I used to take you for training,” purred Bluestar as she padded through the sun-dappled woods.

Fireheart ran to catch up with her. “Me too,” he replied.

“You were a fast learner. I chose well when I invited you into my Clan,” Bluestar murmured. She looked back over her shoulder at Fireheart, and he saw pride in her eyes. He blinked gratefully at her.

“All the Clans have much to thank you for,” Bluestar continued. “You drove Brokentail out of ShadowClan, brought WindClan home from exile, helped RiverClan when they were flooded, and saved ThunderClan from Tigerclaw.” Fireheart began to feel a little overwhelmed by her praise as she went on: “No other warrior has your sense of fairness or loyalty or courage…”

Fireheart’s fur pricked uneasily. “But all the ThunderClan cats respect the warrior code as I do,” he pointed out. “Every one of them would sacrifice themselves to protect you and the Clan.”

Bluestar stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Fireheart. “You are the only cat who dared oppose Tigerclaw,” she reminded him.

“But I was the only one who knew that he killed Redtail!” Fireheart had still been an apprentice when he had found out that the ThunderClan warrior had been responsible for the death of Bluestar’s loyal deputy. But he had been unable to prove Tigerclaw’s murderous secret until the traitor had led the rogue cats against his own Clan.

A fiery resentment flashed in Bluestar’s eyes. “Graystripe knew too. It was only you who saved me!”

Fireheart looked away, lost for words. His ears twitched uncomfortably. It looked as if Bluestar didn’t trust any of her warriors except him and maybe Whitestorm. Fireheart realized that Tigerclaw had done more damage than any of the Clan could possibly imagine. The dark warrior had poisoned their leader’s judgment and drained away all her confidence in her warriors.

“Come on!” snapped Bluestar.

Fireheart watched the gray she-cat stalk away through the forest, her shoulders stiff and her tail fluffed up. He shivered. Although the sky was still bright overhead, he felt as if a black cloud had blotted out the sun and cast an ominous shadow over their journey.

They reached Fourtrees as the sun broke through the leaves at the top of the trees. Fireheart followed Bluestar down the slope into the valley, where the four great oaks stood, guarding the place where the Clans met each full moon under a single night’s truce. The two cats passed the Great Rock where the leaders of each Clan stood to address the Gathering, and headed up the far side of the valley.

As the grassy hill turned steeper and rockier, Fireheart noticed that Bluestar was struggling to keep up the pace. She grunted each time she jumped onto the next rock, and Fireheart had to slow down so that he didn’t pass her.

At the top of the slope, Bluestar stopped and sat down, wheezing.

“Are you okay?” Fireheart asked.

“Not so young…” panted Bluestar.

Fireheart felt a pang of worry. He had assumed that her physical injuries from the battle had healed. Where had this sudden weakness come from? It made her seem older and more vulnerable than ever. Perhaps it’s just climbing in this heat, he thought hopefully. After all, her pelt is thicker than mine.

While Bluestar caught her breath, Fireheart peered nervously across the stunted gorse and heather that covered the uplands. This was WindClan territory, stretching away from them under the cloudless sky. He felt even uneasier here than on the RiverClan border. WindClan was still angry with ThunderClan because they had given sanctuary to the former ShadowClan leader, and it was Bluestar herself who had decided to take in the blinded Brokentail. What would a WindClan patrol do if they found the ThunderClan leader on their territory, with only one warrior to guard her? Fireheart wasn’t sure if he could protect his leader against a whole patrol.

“We must be careful not to be spotted,” he whispered.

“What did you say?” called Bluestar. The breeze was stronger up here, and even though it did nothing to ease the sun’s burning heat, it carried Fireheart’s words away.

“We must be careful they don’t see us!” Fireheart reluctantly raised his voice.

“Why?” Bluestar demanded. “We’re traveling to the Moonstone. StarClan has granted us the right to travel safely!”

Fireheart realized it would be a waste of time to argue. “I’ll lead the way,” he offered.

He knew the uplands well, better than most ThunderClan cats. He’d been here many times before, but he’d never felt as exposed and vulnerable as he did now. Quickly he led Bluestar into the sea of heather, praying that StarClan had as much belief in their right to travel here as Bluestar did, and that their warrior ancestors would protect them from any passing WindClan patrols. He also hoped that Bluestar had enough sense to keep her ears and tail low.

The sun was reaching its highest point as they neared the swathe of gorse at the heart of WindClan’s territory. Fourtrees was far behind them, but there was still a long way to go before they reached the slope at the edge of the moor that ran down into Twoleg farmland. Fireheart paused. A hot breeze was blowing toward him, as stifling as the breath of a sick cat, and he knew their scent would be carried back through WindClan territory. He just hoped the perfume of the honey-rich heather would mask it. Beside him, Bluestar signaled with a flick of her tail and vanished into the gorse.

An angry yowl sounded from behind them. Fireheart spun around and backed away, wincing as the gorse pricked his haunches. Three WindClan cats faced him, their fur bristling and their ears flattened.

“Intruders. Why are you here?” hissed a mottled dark brown tabby. Fireheart recognized Mudclaw, one of the senior warriors. A gray tabby warrior called Tornear was beside him, his back arched and his claws unsheathed. Fireheart had grown to know and respect these cats when he had escorted WindClan back from their exile in Twoleg territory, but all traces of their former alliance had vanished now. He didn’t recognize the smallest cat—an apprentice, perhaps, but every bit as fierce-looking and wiry as his Clanmates.

The fur rose along Fireheart’s spine and his heart began to pound, but he tried to stay calm. “We’re just traveling through—” he began.

“You are on our land,” spat Mudclaw. His eyes shone angrily as he stared at Fireheart.

Where was Bluestar? Fireheart thought desperately, half wanting her support, half hoping she hadn’t heard Mudclaw’s yowl and was heading safely through the gorse toward Twoleg territory.

A snarl at his side told him she had returned for him. He glanced quickly to see Bluestar standing at the edge of the gorse with her head held high and her eyes blazing with fury. “We are traveling to Highstones. StarClan grants us safe passage. You have no right to stop us!”

Mudclaw didn’t flinch. “You gave up your rights to StarClan’s protection when you took Brokentail into your Clan!” he retorted.

Fireheart could understand the WindClan cats’ anger. He had seen for himself the misery they had endured when they were driven out by Brokentail’s Clan warriors. With a surge of pity he remembered the tiny WindClan kit he’d helped to carry home—it had been the only one of its litter to survive. The former ShadowClan leader had nearly destroyed the Clan with his cruelty.

Fireheart stared into Mudclaw’s fierce gaze. “Brokentail is dead,” he told him.

Mudclaw’s eyes glittered. “You killed him?” he demanded.

As Fireheart hesitated, Bluestar growled menacingly from his side. “Of course we didn’t kill him. ThunderClan aren’t murderers.”

“No,” Mudclaw spat back. “You just protect them!” The WindClan warrior arched his back aggressively.

Disappointed, Fireheart felt his mind whirl as he tried to think of another way to convince WindClan.

“You will let us pass!” Bluestar hissed. Fireheart froze as he saw his leader flexing her claws and raising her hackles, ready to attack.