Fire And Ice

Cautiously, the two friends approached the spot where the WindClan cats had vanished. As they neared, they saw a hole in the earth. Like their resting place on the previous night, the entrance was round and lined with stone, sloping away into utter blackness.

Fireheart led the way, all his senses alert for a WindClan patrol. The floor beneath his paws felt wet and slimy, and the sound of trickling water echoed around them. As the tunnel leveled out, Fireheart pricked his ears and opened his mouth. The damp air smelled rank and bitter—worse than the tunnel they had slept in. Here the Thunderpath fumes mingled with the fear-scent of WindClan cats.

It was too dark to see anything, but after a few paces Fireheart’s whiskers sensed a turning in the tunnel. Fireheart flicked his tail, touching Graystripe lightly with its tip. He couldn’t see his friend in the blackness, but Graystripe must have felt the signal, because he stopped beside Fireheart and together they peered around the corner.

Ahead of them, the tunnel was lit by a narrow hole in the ceiling that led to the wasteland above. Fireheart could see many cats huddled together in the gray light—warriors and elders, queens and kits, all pitifully thin. A cold breeze blew relentlessly through the hole in the roof, stirring the thin fur on the skinny bodies. Fireheart shuddered, for the breeze carried to him the stench of sickness and crowfood.

Suddenly the tunnel shook as a monster roared overhead. Graystripe and Fireheart, already tense, jumped, but the WindClan cats didn’t react. They simply huddled with half-closed eyes, numb to their surroundings.

The noise died away. Fireheart took a deep breath and stepped around the corner, out into the thin light.

A gray WindClan tom spun around, his fur standing on end as he yowled an alarm to the rest of the Clan. In one smooth movement, the WindClan warriors formed a line across the tunnel in front of the queens and elders, their backs arched, hissing fiercely.

With a feeling of dread, Fireheart saw the glint of unsheathed claws and thorn-sharp fangs. These half-starved cats were about to attack.

Chapter 6

Fireheart pressed his body warningly against Graystripe, who had padded out to join him. They had to show no threat if they were to survive.

The WindClan warriors stood their ground without moving a muscle. They’re waiting for a signal from their leader! Fireheart realized. They still follow the warrior code, even though they have to live like this.

From behind the line of warriors, a black-and-white tom weaved his way to the front. With a jolt, Fireheart recognized the long-tailed cat from his dream. This must be Tallstar, leader of WindClan.

Tallstar sniffed the air, but Fireheart and Graystripe were downwind, their scents carried away by the steady breeze. As the black-and-white cat walked toward them, Fireheart breathed in the rank odor of crowfood that hung on his coat. Like Graystripe, he remained perfectly still, his eyes down, as Tallstar circled them, sniffing their fur closely.

Finally Tallstar returned to his warriors. Fireheart heard him murmur, “ThunderClan.” The warriors flattened their fur, but remained in a defensive line, shielding the rest of the cats.

Tallstar turned to face his visitors and sat down, curling his tail carefully around his paws. “I was expecting ShadowClan,” he growled. His eyes burned with hostility. “Why are you here?”

“We came to find you,” Fireheart meowed, feeling his voice crack with tension. “Bluestar and the other Clan leaders want you to return to your home.”

The WindClan leader’s voice was still wary. “That land is not safe for my Clan anymore,” he meowed. There was a hunted look in Tallstar’s eye that sent a pang of sorrow through Fireheart.

“ShadowClan has driven out Brokenstar,” he meowed. “He is no longer a threat.”

The warriors behind Tallstar turned and looked at one another. Murmurs of surprise rippled back through the Clan.

“You must return as soon as possible,” Fireheart urged. “ShadowClan and RiverClan are starting to hunt in the uplands. We saw a RiverClan hunting patrol near the old badger set while we were on our way here.”

Tallstar bristled angrily.

“But they are poor rabbit hunters,” Graystripe added. “I think they went home with empty bellies.”

Tallstar and his warriors purred with satisfaction. Their good spirits encouraged Fireheart, but he could see how weak they were. This Clan would find the journey back to the uplands long and hard. “May we travel with you?” he suggested respectfully.

Tallstar’s eyes flashed. He knew the question was a tactful offer of help. He looked steadily at Fireheart. “Yes,” he replied at last. “Thank you.”

Fireheart realized he hadn’t introduced himself. “This is Graystripe,” he meowed, dipping his head. “And I am Fireheart. We are warriors of ThunderClan.”