Fire And Ice

“A burrow?” Graystripe sounded puzzled. “It’s too big for a rabbit. Surely there can’t be a badger set here!”

“Let’s take a look,” Fireheart suggested.

The hole was larger than a badger set, smooth and lined with stone. Fireheart sniffed it, then put his front paws on its rim and peered cautiously inside. A stone tunnel sloped away, down into the ground. “I can feel air flowing through it,” he meowed, his voice echoing away into the shadows. “It must come up somewhere over there.” He ducked back out and pointed his nose toward the tangle of Thunderpaths.

“Is it empty?” Graystripe asked.

“Smells like it.”

“Come on then.” Graystripe led the way into the tunnel. After a few fox lengths, the slope leveled out.

Fireheart halted and sniffed the damp air. He could smell nothing but the fumes of the Thunderpath. A roaring noise rumbled overhead. Fireheart’s paws trembled as the stone floor vibrated. Was the Thunderpath above them? He fluffed out his coat against the relentless draft and felt Graystripe’s fur brush against him—his friend was circling, preparing to settle down to sleep. Fireheart crouched down and huddled beside his friend. He closed his stinging eyes and thought of the gentle forest breezes and the rustling of the leaves. Exhaustion fought briefly with a pang of longing to be at home in his den, before he gave in to the blackness that swam into his mind.

When Fireheart opened his eyes again, gray light was glowing at the end of the tunnel. Dawn must be near. Fireheart’s bones ached from the cold hard ground. He nudged Graystripe, who grunted. “Morning already?”

“Almost,” Fireheart answered, getting to his paws. Graystripe stretched and stood up too.

“I think we should head that way,” Fireheart meowed, craning his neck away from the light. “I think this tunnel leads right under a Thunderpath. It might take us nearer to the…” His voice trailed off; he had no words to describe the tangle of Thunderpaths they had seen last night. Beside him Graystripe nodded, and together they began to pad wordlessly into the darkness.

Before long Fireheart spotted light ahead of them. They quickened their pace until they were racing up a short, steep slope that led them into a world filled with gray dawn light.

They had come up near the edge of a patch of barren, dirty grass. Thunderpaths enclosed it on two sides, and another arched overhead. A fire burned in the middle of the grass. A few Twolegs lay around it. One of them stretched and rolled over, and another grunted angrily in its sleep, but the noise and stench from the Thunderpaths didn’t seem to wake them.

Fireheart watched them warily, then froze as something else caught his eye: dark outlines that flitted back and forth in front of the flames. Cats! Could it be WindClan? Fireheart looked at the fire and the cats, and his mind flooded with the memory of his dream—the noise of the Thunderpath, the sight of the flames and the cats, and Spottedleaf’s voice murmuring, “Fire will save the Clan.”

A surge of emotion made Fireheart’s legs feel weak. Did this mean that ThunderClan’s fate was bound up with the fate of WindClan?

“Fireheart? Fireheart!”

Graystripe’s voice jolted Fireheart back to reality. He breathed deeply to calm himself.

“We must find Tallstar and speak with him,” he meowed.

“Then you think it is WindClan?” asked Graystripe.

“You smelled their marker—who else could it be?” Fireheart replied.

Graystripe looked at him, his eyes shining with triumph. “We found them!”

Fireheart nodded. He didn’t point out that finding WindClan was only half their mission. They still had to convince them that it was safe to return home.

Graystripe braced himself, ready to leap forward. “Let’s go!”

“Hang on,” Fireheart warned. “We don’t want to startle them.”

Just then, one of the Twolegs sat up with a jolt and began shouting at the ragged cats around the fire. The noise roused the other Twolegs, who joined in with rough, angry voices.

The WindClan cats scattered. All caution forgotten, Fireheart and Graystripe raced after them. Fireheart could feel his fur prickle with fear as he and Graystripe ran straight toward the fire and the Twolegs. Every instinct told him to keep away, but he dared not lose sight of the fleeing WindClan cats.

One of the Twolegs staggered to its feet, looming up in front of him. Fireheart skidded, sending up a spray of dust. Something exploded beside him, pelting him with hard-edged splinters, but nothing pierced his thick coat. He glanced backward, checking for Graystripe. He was relieved to see his friend right behind him, his eyes wide with alarm and his fur standing on end.

They charged into the safety of the shadows beneath the soaring Thunderpath. Ahead, Fireheart watched the WindClan cats stop close to one of the Thunderpath’s great stone legs. And then, one by one, the cats disappeared into the ground.

“Where did they go?” meowed Graystripe in amazement.

“Another tunnel?” Fireheart suggested. “Come on, let’s find out.”