The Darkest Hour

Chapter 11

Firestar emerged from the forest near Sunningrocks and paused to taste the air. The sun was rising behind him, sending long shadows from the forest toward the river. Several days had passed since Darkstripe had left ThunderClan, and so far the patrols had not brought any news of him, nor of ShadowClan cats in the territory. But the memory of Firestar’s dream was still too sharp for him to believe that the threat from the territory beyond the Thunderpath was over.

Graystripe and Thornclaw padded out of the trees behind him. “Smell anything?” Graystripe asked.

Firestar shrugged. “Only RiverClan cats. No more than I’d expect, this close to the border. But I want to make sure that they haven’t been near Sunningrocks.”

“We’ll renew the scent markings,” meowed Graystripe. “Come on, Thornclaw.”

While his friends disappeared into the gullies among the rocks, Firestar remained where he was, carefully drawing the air over his scent glands. Though he was worried about ShadowClan, he had not forgotten RiverClan or their ambitious leader, Leopardstar. She had tried to retake Sunning-rocks not long before, and Firestar would not be surprised if she decided to try again.

Not many moments passed before he detected fresh RiverClan scent. Instantly suspicious, he padded around the base of the rocks, only to relax a few moments later as he caught sight of Mistyfoot. She was alone, crouched at the very edge of the river, and as Firestar watched she scooped a fish out of the water and killed it with one blow of her paw.

“Well done!” Firestar called.

Mistyfoot turned, saw him, and padded up the gently sloping bank as far as the border. Firestar went to meet her there, glad to see that she still looked friendly in spite of the way she had left the ThunderClan camp. But he noticed with alarm that Mistyfoot was much thinner than when he had last seen her, and he wondered if something bad had happened following the revelation that Bluestar had been her mother.

“How are you, Mistyfoot?” he meowed. “I hope there hasn’t been any trouble.”

“About me and Stonefur?” Mistyfoot replied, guessing his thoughts. She hesitated. “Stonefur told the Clan the truth about Bluestar,” she meowed at last. “Some of them didn’t like it. One or two of them won’t talk to us at all now, and most of them are a bit uneasy with us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Firestar mewed. “What about Leopardstar? Has she said anything?”

“I could tell she wasn’t pleased. She supported us in front of the Clan, but I think she has an eye on us all the same, to make sure we’re still loyal.”

“Of course you’re loyal!” Firestar exclaimed.

“Yes, and the rest of the Clan will realize it sooner or later. Besides…” Mistyfoot paused again, and then went on. “That isn’t the worst of our problems.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tigerstar.” Mistyfoot shivered. “He visits Leopardstar regularly, and I can’t work out why. I’m sure they’re planning something.”

A jolt of fear shot through Firestar. “Planning what?”

Mistyfoot twitched her ears. “I’ve no idea. Leopardstar hasn’t told Stonefur, even though he’s her deputy. But there are a couple of ShadowClan warriors stationed permanently in our camp.”

“What? That shouldn’t happen! It must be against the warrior code!”

Mistyfoot shrugged, looking defeated. “Try telling that to Leopardstar.”

“But what are they doing there?”

“Leopardstar says that they’re staying with us so the Clans can exchange training methods and fighting techniques, but I don’t see much sign of it. All they do is watch… It’s like they’re learning all about us, all our secrets and weaknesses.” Mistyfoot’s fur bristled as if she saw her enemies in front of her. “That’s why I came over here, to get away from them for a bit.”

“That’s terrible,” Firestar meowed. “What is Leopardstar thinking?”

“You want my opinion? She wants to do the best for her Clan and she thinks Tigerstar is the strongest leader in the forest, so she’s set out to be his ally.”

“I’m not sure Tigerstar has allies,” Firestar warned her. “Only followers.”

Mistyfoot nodded. “I know.” She sat down, licked one paw, and drew it two or three times over her ear.

Firestar wondered if she was regretting saying so much to a warrior of another Clan. “How is the prey running?” he asked, hoping to distract her. “At least the river hasn’t frozen yet.”

“Not yet. Prey’s scarce, but that’s nothing new.” Mistyfoot flicked her ears dismissively. “It’s leaf-bare, after all. And those two warriors of Tigerclaw’s don’t help,” she added. “They sit there in camp stuffing their faces, but they never bring back much fresh-kill.”

She broke off at the sound of Graystripe’s voice yowling her name. Firestar turned to see his friend bounding down the bank toward them with Thornclaw just behind him.

“Hi, Mistyfoot,” panted Graystripe as he came up. “How are Featherpaw and Stormpaw?”

“They’re fine, Graystripe,” replied Mistyfoot, with a purr of welcome for her former Clan mate. Though Graystripe’s stay in RiverClan had been short, the two cats had become good friends, and Mistyfoot was always willing to give Graystripe news of his kits. “Featherpaw is turning into a great fighter. ThunderClan will have to watch out when she’s made a warrior.”

Graystripe let out a purr. “Well, she couldn’t have a better mentor.”

Firestar backed away while Graystripe and Mistyfoot discussed the two apprentices. Thornclaw padded up to him and meowed, “We’ve renewed the scent markings, Firestar. There’s no fresh RiverClan scent around the rocks.”

“That’s good,” Firestar responded, though his thoughts were only half on what the young warrior was telling him. Mistyfoot’s news deeply disturbed him. It sounded as if RiverClan and ShadowClan were allied more closely than ever before. And if Tigerstar decided to go to war, ThunderClan would be trapped between them.

Oh, StarClan, Firestar murmured to himself. Show me what I should do now.

After his talk with Mistyfoot, Firestar ordered ex t r a patrols, but no cat reported anything unusual. The days slipped past peacefully until the time of the next Gathering approached.

As the sun went down behind the thorn hedge, Firestar sat with Whitestorm beside the nettle patch, sharing fresh-kill before the journey.

“Who will you take to the Gathering?” the white warrior asked.

Firestar swallowed a mouthful of squirrel. “Not you, I think,” he replied. “I’m certain Tigerstar is going to make a move of some sort, and I want you to guard the camp. I’ll leave you some strong warriors, too.”

“I think you’re right.” Whitestorm swiped his tongue around his mouth as he finished his vole. “Tigerstar may have failed with the dog pack but he’s bound to try something else.”

“I’ll take Fernpaw and Ashpaw,” Firestar decided. “And Thornclaw. He’ll be looking forward to his first Gathering as a warrior. And Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Frostfur. That should leave you with enough fighting strength if Tigerstar sends warriors to attack.”

“You think he’ll break the truce?” inquired Whitestorm.

Firestar flicked his ears. “What do you think? He led the dog pack to us—do you think he’d bother about a little thing like ignoring the will of StarClan?”

“StarClan?” Whitestorm snorted. “Tigerstar behaves as if he’s never heard of StarClan.” He paused, and then asked, “What about the two young apprentices—Tigerstar’s kits? Do you want to take them with you?”

Firestar shook his head. “Not in a hundred moons. You know what’s going to happen, don’t you? Tigerstar wants those kits. At the last Gathering, he gave Bluestar one moon to decide whether to hand them over. That time’s up now. If Bramblepaw and Tawnypaw are there, I wouldn’t put it past Tigerstar to try taking them from the Gathering.”

“Nor would I.” Whitestorm rumbled in agreement. “You think we should keep them, then?”

Firestar was startled. “Don’t you?” He had assumed that ThunderClan would insist on their right to keep the two apprentices, but if his deputy thought that they should give the young cats to their father, Firestar would consider his opinion carefully.

But Whitestorm was nodding. “There’s no question that they’re ThunderClan kits. Their mother is ThunderClan, and so was their father at the time they were born. Tigerstar going to ShadowClan doesn’t alter that. But if we want to keep them, we’ll have to fight for them.”

“T h en we fight,” Firestar meowed determined l y. “Besides,” he added, “if we meekly hand them over, Tigerstar will see that as a sign of weakness. He’d be making more demands before you could say ‘mouse.’”

“True.”

Firestar took another bite of squirrel, his eyes narrowing as his thoughts moved to the approaching Gathering. “You know, Whitestorm,” he began, “Tigerstar won’t have it all his own way. I’ve got news for the Gathering, too. How do you think the other Clans will react when I tell them how Tigerstar tried to use the dog pack to destroy us? Not even Broken tail was as ruthless as that. Even Tigerstar’s own Clan will turn against him. They might even drive him from the forest, and then we’ll be rid of him.”

Whitestorm’s ears twitched; to Firestar’s surprise the white warrior didn’t look as optimistic as he had expected. “Maybe,” he meowed, “but don’t be surprised if it doesn’t work out like that.”

Firestar stared at him. “You think the warrior code allows a cat to have another Clan torn apart by dogs?”

“No, of course not. But Tigerstar could always deny it. What proof do we have?”

Firestar thought seriously about what his deputy was saying. One cat—Longtail—had seen Tigerstar feed a rabbit to the pack. Several of the Clan had detected Tigerstar’s scent on the trail of rabbits. And Tigerstar had attacked Firestar himself close to the gorge, to make sure that the dog pack caught him and pulled him down. Only Bluestar’s sudden appearance had saved him.

True, Mistyfoot and Stonefur had witnessed Tigerstar’s presence by the river that day, but they were already having problems within their own Clan. If they spoke up against Tigerstar their Clan mates might not believe them. It would be wrong, Firestar realized, to add to their troubles.

And all the rest of his evidence rested on the word of ThunderClan cats alone. Both WindClan and RiverClan knew there had been a serious rift between Tigerstar and his birth Clan that had driven the former deputy to lea v e. Tigerstar could try to make it seem as if the ThunderClan cats were lying.

“Then we’ll see who they believe,” Firestar insisted angrily. “Not every cat thinks that Tigerstar is StarClan’s gift to the forest. He won’t have it all his own way.”

“Let’s hope not.” Whitestorm got to his paws and stretched. “You’re going to have a lively time tonight, Firestar. I’ll go and tell the warriors you’ve chosen to be ready.”

As he padded away, Firestar crouched down beside the nettles and finished his squirrel. There was going to be trouble at this Gathering. Tigerstar was certain to claim his kits again, and Firestar suspected that he would take this opportunity to reveal Bluestar’s secret as well and denounce Mistyfoot and Stonefur as half-Clan cats.

But I’ve got plenty to say, too, he thought, pushing aside the doubts Whitestorm had raised. When I’ve finished, no cat in the forest—not even his own Clan—will trust Tigerstar again.