The Darkest Hour

Chapter 21

Firestar woke to see the den floor washed by the pale light of sunrise. Beside him, Sandstorm still slept, the moss stirred by her breathing. Careful not to wake her, Firestar rose, stretched, and padded out into the chilly morning.

The clearing was deserted, but almost at once Whitestorm appeared from the warriors’ den.

“I’ve sent out the dawn patrol,” he reported. “Brackenfur, Mousefur, and Graystripe. I told them to do a quick sweep up the ShadowClan border and report back to us.”

“Good,” mewed Firestar. “It would be just like Tigerstar to arrange a meeting at Fourtrees and then mount a raid somewhere else. That’s why I’m leaving you in charge of the camp, with as many warriors as I can spare.”

“Take all the strength you need,” Whitestorm meowed. “We’ll be fine. Young Brightheart is shaping up to be a really useful fighter ever since she started training with Cloudtail. And the elders can still raise a few claws, if they’re pushed.”

“They’ll be pushed, before all this is over,” Firestar predicted. “Thanks, Whitestorm. I know I can rely on you.”

The white warrior nodded and disappeared into the den again. Firestar watched him go, then padded across the clearing to the fern tunnel that led to Cinderpelt’s den.

When he reached the medicine cat’s den, he could hear her voice coming from the cleft in the rock.

“Juniper berries, marigold leaves, poppy seeds…”

Looking inside, Firestar saw the small gray she-cat checking the heaps of healing herbs and berries ranged alongside the wall of the den.

“Hi, Cinderpelt,” he mewed. “Everything in order?”

The medicine cat turned to him with a grave look in her blue eyes. “As much as it’ll ever be.”

“You think there will definitely be a battle?” Firestar asked her. “Have StarClan spoken to you?”

Cinderpelt came to join him at the mouth of the den. “No, not a word,” she replied. “But common sense says there’ll be a battle, Firestar. I don’t need an omen from StarClan to tell me that.”

She was right, Firestar knew, and yet her words chilled him. With such a momentous meeting ahead, why had there been no sign from StarClan? Had their warrior ancestors abandoned them in their time of greatest need? Too late, Firestar wondered if he should have traveled to Highstones to share tongues with StarClan.

“Do you know why StarClan are silent?” he asked Cinderpelt out loud.

The medicine cat shook her head. “But I do know something,” she meowed, as if she had read his thoughts. “StarClan haven’t forgotten us. They decreed long ago that there should be four Clans in the forest, and they won’t stand by and let Tigerstar change that forever.”

As Firestar thanked her and turned away to muster his warriors, he wished he shared her faith.

A stiff breeze was blowing as Firestar led his warriors up the slope to Fourtrees, rippling the grass and carrying the scent of many cats. Each gust brought a sting of rain from the gray clouds that pushed each other across the sky.

At the top of the slope, Firestar paused, crouching in the shelter of the bushes to look down into the clearing. Almost at once Cloudtail appeared at his side.

“Why are we standing about?” he demanded. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Not until I know what’s going on,” Firestar told him. “For all we know, we could be walking into an ambush.” Facing his warriors, he raised his voice so that they could all hear him. “You all know why we’re here,” he began. “Tigerstar wants us to join his Clan, and he won’t take no for an answer. I’d like to believe we can get out of this without a fight, but I can’t be sure.”

As he finished speaking, Cloudtail flicked Firestar on the shoulder with his tail and then pointed to the other side of the hollow. Turning, Firestar saw Tallstar approaching from WindClan territory, followed by his warriors.

“Good, WindClan are here,” he mewed. “Let’s go and meet them.”

Firestar led the way along the lip of the hollow until he came face-to-face with the long-tailed black-and-white tom.

The WindClan leader dipped his head in greeting. “Well met, Firestar. This is a black day for the forest.”

“It is indeed,” Firestar agreed. “But our Clans will stand for what is right by the warrior code, whatever happens.”

Firestar was surprised at how many had come with Tallstar. Remembering the wounded and devastated cats in the WindClan camp the day before, he had expected only a small group to come to Fourtrees. Instead practically every warrior must have been there. They still showed the scars of the raid on their camp, but their eyes were bright and determined. Firestar recognized his friend Onewhisker, a long weal showing red along one flank, and Morningflower, her eyes cold with longing to avenge the death of her son.

Tigerstar might have a nasty shock, Firestar reflected, to see how many of WindClan’s warriors were still ready to fight against him. Taking a deep breath, he meowed, “Let’s go.”

Tallstar dipped his head. “Lead on, Firestar.”

Startled at being given such an honor by the older and more experienced leader, Firestar waved his tail to signal to the two united Clans—LionClan, he thought with a rush of pride. This was his destiny.

He stalked down the slope through the bushes, all his senses alert for attack. But he heard nothing except for the rustle of his own warriors following him. The scent of TigerClan was still some way off.

As Firestar led his cats into the clearing beneath the great oaks, the bushes on the opposite side parted and Tigerstar stepped out to face him. Blackfoot, Darkstripe, and Leopardstar flanked him like vengeful shadows. The massive tabby’s eyes gleamed as he spotted Firestar, and the young ThunderClan leader realized that this war was personal for him too. Tigerstar wanted nothing more than to sink his claws and teeth into Firestar’s pelt and rip him to pieces.

Instead of making Firestar afraid, the knowledge exhilarated him. Let him try! he thought.

“Greetings, Tigerstar,” he meowed coolly. “You came, then. Not still looking for those prisoners you lost from RiverClan territory?”

Tigerstar let out a snarl. “You’ll regret that day’s work, Firestar.”

“Try and make me,” Firestar retorted.

The TigerClan leader did not reply, but waited as more of his followers appeared through the bushes. They were a formidable group, Firestar realized, though some of them bore wounds and claw marks from the raid on WindClan the previous day. His heart began to thump painfully as he realized that the battle he had feared for so long might be unleashed any moment.

Tigerstar took a pace forward, his head raised challengingly. “Have you thought about my offer? I’m giving you the choice: Join with me now and accept my leadership, or be destroyed.”

Firestar exchanged a single glance with Tallstar. There was no need for words. They had already decided what their response must be.

Firestar spoke for them both. “We reject your offer. The forest was never meant to be ruled by one Clan, especially not one led by a dishonorable murderer.”

“But it will be.” Tigerstar’s voice was soft; he didn’t even try to defend himself against Firestar’s accusation. “With you or without you, Firestar, it will be. By sunset today, the time of four Clans will be over.”

“The answer is still no,” Firestar meowed. “ThunderClan will never submit.”

“Nor will WindClan,” added Tallstar.

“Then your courage is matched only by your stupidity,” growled Tigerstar.

He paused, his gaze raking the warriors of WindClan and ThunderClan. Firestar heard snarls from the TigerClan warriors behind their leader and forced himself not to flinch away from their glittering eyes and bristling fur. For a few heartbeats not a cat moved, and Firestar braced himself for Tigerstar’s order to attack.

Then he heard a choking sound behind him, and a single word gasped out: “Tawnypaw!”

Bramblepaw was standing rigid at Firestar’s shoulder, staring into the ranks of their enemies. Following his gaze, Firestar spotted the young she-cat standing close beside Oakfur, a ShadowClan warrior.

“What is she doing there?” That was Brackenfur, thrusting himself forward to stand at Firestar’s other side. “Tigerstar did steal her!”

“Steal her?” There was a purr in Tigerstar’s voice. “Not at all. Tawnypaw came to us willingly.”

Firestar didn’t know whether to believe him or not. Tawnypaw was looking down at the ground as if she didn’t w ant to meet the eyes of her brother and her former mentor. He had to admit that she didn’t look like a prisoner; instead she just looked uncomfortable at being the center of attention.

“Tawnypaw!” Bramblepaw called. “What are you doing? You’re a ThunderClan cat—come back to us!”

Firestar winced at the pain in the young cat’s voice. He remembered the agony of losing Graystripe when his friend chose to leave and join RiverClan.

Tawnypaw said nothing.

“No, Bramblepaw,” Tigerstar meowed. “You come to us. Your sister made the right choice. TigerClan will rule over the whole forest, and you can share our power.”

Firestar saw Bramblepaw’s muscles tense. At last, after all the doubts and suspicions Firestar had felt about him, the young cat was faced with a simple choice. Would he follow his father or stay loyal to his Clan?

“What do you say?” Tigerstar prompted. “ThunderClan is finished. There is nothing there for you.”

“Join you?” Bramblepaw growled. He paused, swallowing as he fought to control his anger. When he spoke again his words rang out clearly so that every cat in the clearing could hear him.

“Join you?” he repeated. “After everything you’ve done? I’d rather die!”

A murmur of approval broke out among the ThunderClan cats.

Tigerstar’s amber eyes smoldered with rage. “Are you sure?” he hissed. “I won’t make the offer twice. Join me now, or you will die.”

“Then at least I’ll go to StarClan as a loyal ThunderClan cat,” Bramblepaw retorted, his head high.

Firestar felt pride thrilling through him from nose to tail-tip. There could be no greater challenge to Tigerstar’s power than for his own son to reject him in favor of the Clan his father despised.

“Fool!” Tigerstar spat. “Stay, then, and die with these other fools.”

Firestar braced himself as he waited for his enemy to launch the attack, convinced that battle was upon them. Instead, to his surprise, Blackfoot raised his tail in a signal.

The bushes on the opposite slope rustled, and Firestar’s eyes widened in shock as more cats emerged into the clearing. He had never seen any of them before. They were skinny, their fur ragged, but he sensed strength in their wiry limbs. The stench of crowfood and the Thunderpath rolled off them. These were no forest cats.

The warriors of ThunderClan and WindClan stared in disbelief as more and more of the strangers padded into the clearing. They fanned out into a semicircle around TigerClan, row after row of them, more cats than Firestar could remember seeing all together in the forest, even at a Gathering.

“Well?” Tigerstar demanded silkily. “Are you still sure that you want to stand and fight?”