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Fireheart licked his lips. Graystripe lay beside him washing his flank. They had just finished sharing a meal beside the camp clearing. The sun had set and Fireheart could see the moon, almost full now, gleaming in a cold, clear sky. The past few days had been busy. It seemed that every time they lay down for a rest, Tigerclaw sent them out on patrol or a hunting mission. Fireheart had stayed alert, looking for a chance to talk with Bluestar alone, but when he wasn’t on one of Tigerclaw’s missions, the ThunderClan leader always seemed to have her deputy at her side.

Fireheart began to wash his paw, his eyes flicking around the camp, searching hopefully for Bluestar.

“What are you looking for?” meowed Graystripe through a tongueful of fur.

“Bluestar,” Fireheart answered, lowering his paw.

“Why?” Graystripe stopped washing and looked up at his friend. “You’ve had one eye on her ever since our vigil. What are you planning to do?”

“I have to tell her where Ravenpaw is, and warn her about Tigerclaw,” Fireheart meowed.

“You promised Ravenpaw you’d tell them he was dead!” Graystripe sounded amazed.

“I only promised to tell Tigerclaw he was dead. Bluestar should know the whole story. She needs to know what her deputy is capable of.”

Graystripe lowered his voice to an urgent hiss. “But we only have Ravenpaw’s word that Tigerclaw killed Redtail.”

“Don’t you believe him?” Fireheart couldn’t help feeling shocked by his friend’s doubts.

“Look, if Tigerclaw lied about killing Oakheart in revenge for Redtail’s death, that means Redtail must have killed Oakheart himself. And I can’t believe that Redtail would have deliberately killed another Clan deputy in battle. It goes against the warrior code-we fight to prove our strength and defend our territory, not to kill each other.”

“But I’m not trying to make accusations against Redtail!” Fireheart protested. “It’s Tigerclaw who is the problem.” Redtail had been the ThunderClan deputy before Tigerclaw. Fireheart had never met him, but he knew Redtail had been deeply respected by all the Clan.

Graystripe didn’t meet Fireheart’s gaze. “What you are saying has implications for Redtail’s honor. And none of the other cats have a problem with Tigerclaw. It was only Ravenpaw who was scared of him.”

An uneasy shiver ran down Fireheart’s spine. “So you think Ravenpaw made the story up because he didn’t get along with his mentor?” he meowed scornfully.

“No,” mumbled Graystripe. “I just think we should be careful.”

Fireheart looked into his friend’s worried eyes and began to wonder. He supposed Graystripe did have a point-they had been warriors for only a few days, so they were in no position to start hurling accusations at the Clan’s most senior warrior.

“It’s okay,” Fireheart meowed at last. “You can stay out of it.” A twinge of regret flickered in his belly as Graystripe nodded and returned to washing. Fireheart believed that Graystripe was wrong to think it was only Ravenpaw who had a problem with Tigerclaw. Fireheart’s own instincts told him that the ThunderClan deputy should not be trusted. He had to share his suspicions with Bluestar, for her safety and the safety of the Clan.

A glimpse of gray fur on the other side of the clearing told Fireheart that Bluestar had emerged from her den-alone. He scrambled to his paws, but the ThunderClan leader leaped straight up onto the Highrock and called to the Clan. Fireheart lashed his tail impatiently.

Graystripe’s ears flicked excitedly as he heard Bluestar’s call. “A naming ceremony?” he meowed. “It must be Longtail getting his first apprentice. He’s been dropping hints for days.” He bounded over to join the cats gathering at the edge of the clearing, and, still itching with frustration, Fireheart followed.

A small black-and-white kit padded into the clearing. His soft paws made no sound on the hard earth. He walked toward the Highrock with his pale eyes lowered and Fireheart almost expected to see him tremble-there was something in the slope of this kit’s shoulders that made him seem too young and timid to be an apprentice. Longtail won’t be impressed! Fireheart thought, remembering Longtail’s scorn when Fireheart had arrived at the camp for the first time. The warrior had taunted him viciously on his first day with the Clan, mocking his kittypet origins. Fireheart had disliked him ever since.

“From this day forward,” Bluestar meowed, staring down at the kit, “until he has earned his warrior name, this apprentice will be called Swiftpaw.”

There was no flash of determination in the eyes of the black-and-white kit as he looked up at his leader. Instead his amber eyes were wide with anxiety.

Fireheart turned his head as Longtail padded toward his new apprentice.

Bluestar spoke again. “Longtail, you were Darkstripe’s apprentice. He taught you well, and you have become a fierce and loyal warrior. I hope you will pass some of these qualities on to Swiftpaw.”

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