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Fireheart shuddered as it passed, waiting for the noise to die away so he could call out again to Tigerclaw. Then he noticed something beside the ash, a dark shape on the thin strip of grass. With a sickening jolt, he recognized the small body lying motionless beside the Thunderpath. It was Cinderpaw.

Chapter 17

Fireheart stared in horror. Ahead of him, Tigerclaw had reached the limp body and stood looking down at it, his massive shoulders rigid with shock. Fireheart forced himself nearer. Tentatively he stretched his head forward and sniffed Cinderpaw’s flank. She smelled of Thunderpath. One of her hind legs was twisted and glistening with blood. Fireheart was trembling so much he could hardly stand. Then he saw her side moving. She was still breathing! Speechless with relief, he looked up at Tigerclaw.

“She’s alive,” the deputy growled. He fixed his amber stare on Fireheart. “What was she doing here?”

“She came to find you,” Fireheart whispered.

“You mean you sent her here?”

Fireheart’s eyes widened with surprise. Did Tigerclaw think he would be so stupid? “I told her to stay in camp!” he protested. “She came by herself.” Because I couldn’t make her listen to me! he realized with dismay.

Tigerclaw snorted. “We must get her home.” He bent down with his mouth open, reaching for the small, crumpled body, but Fireheart dipped his head and picked up the apprentice by the scruff of her neck before Tigerclaw could touch her. He began to drag Cinderpaw into the woods as gently as he could, her body hanging limply between his front paws.

Darkstripe came bounding up to them. “I’ve checked Snakerocks again, Tigerclaw. There’s no sign of Shadow–” He broke off when he saw Cinderpaw dangling from Fireheart’s mouth. “What’s happened?”

Fireheart didn’t wait to hear Tigerclaw’s answer. He stumbled away through the trees with his precious burden. He could have prevented this accident! If only he’d made Cinderpaw listen to him, if he’d been a better mentor. Now her body was damaged and bleeding and she made no sound as she dangled from his jaws. Her hind paws scored a shallow trail through the leaves as, carefully, Fireheart carried her home.


Yellowfang was not in her clearing. The two kits with whitecough were curled together in their shelter, fast asleep. Fireheart laid Cinderpaw on the cold ground, then made a nest for her in the bracken by circling around and around. When he had finished, he grasped Cinderpaw’s scruff and gently pulled her inside.

“Fireheart?” Yellowfang meowed from the clearing. Tigerclaw must have told her about Cinderpaw. Fireheart hopped out of the nest. “She’s in here,” he croaked, feeling weak with relief at seeing the medicine cat.

“Let me look,” Yellowfang ordered. She brushed past Fireheart and climbed into the bracken to examine Cinderpaw. Fireheart sat down and waited.

At last Yellowfang jumped out. “She’s hurt very badly,” she meowed, her eyes dark with concern. “But I think I might be able to save her.”

It was a tiny hope, like a single sparkling dewdrop clinging to his pelt. Fireheart felt it glisten for a moment before Yellowfang went on: “I can’t promise anything.” She looked deep into Fireheart’s eyes and murmured, “Bluestar is very sick and I can do no more for her. StarClan must decide her fate now.”

Fireheart felt his eyes cloud with emotion; he could hardly see Yellowfang’s face, but he heard her speak to him again, her voice gentle. “Go and sit with Bluestar,” she meowed. “She was asking for you earlier. I will take care of Cinderpaw.”

Fireheart nodded blindly and turned away. Bluestar had been his mentor, and more than that, there had been a bond between them since their first meeting. But he felt torn. He should be with Cinderpaw, too.

A shadow loomed at the far end of the fern tunnel. Tigerclaw was sitting at the entrance to Yellowfang’s den, his head held high as usual. Fireheart’s shoulders stiffened with anger. Why couldn’t the great warrior show some sign of sorrow? After all, Cinderpaw had come looking for him. And for what? There hadn’t been any evidence of ShadowClan fresh-kill that Fireheart had noticed! He walked past Tigerclaw without a word, and headed across the clearing toward Bluestar’s den.

Longtail was sitting on guard outside. He glanced sideways but didn’t try to stop Fireheart as the young warrior pushed through the lichen.

Goldenflower, one of the queens, was inside. Fireheart could see her eyes shining in the gloom, and the pale fur of Bluestar lying curled in her nest. Goldenflower leaned forward and gently licked Bluestar’s head to cool it, like a mother nursing her kit. Fireheart’s heart ached as he thought of Cinderpaw. Would Frostfur be at her daughter’s side by now?

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