Firestar’s Quest

“Of course. What move was Sandstorm trying to teach you?”

“She showed us how to leap on top of our enemies. That way, she said, it’s harder for them to get at you.”

“True.” Firestar lashed his tail. “Okay—come and get me.”

He had hardly finished speaking when Shortwhisker leaped at him, snarling. Firestar sidestepped; Shortwhisker hit the ground beside him, but managed to rake his paws down Firestar’s side before he could scramble out of range.

“Good!” Firestar exclaimed.

“I missed you, though,” Shortwhisker mewed ruefully.

Firestar gritted his teeth. Was this cat determined to see the bad side of everything? “But you still got a blow in,” he pointed out. “Try again, and this time keep fighting until I tell you to stop.”

He crouched, waiting for Shortwhisker’s leap. For a moment he relaxed as the tabby’s gaze drifted to a butterfly fluttering past; the leap when it came took him by surprise.

“Sneaky!” He grunted as Shortwhisker landed on top of him, driving the breath from his body. He heard a snarl of satisfaction as Shortwhisker gripped his shoulders with his paws and bit down into his neck fur. Rolling over onto his back, Firestar twisted his haunches, trying to land a blow on Shortwhisker’s belly with his hind paws. Shortwhisker lost his grip, all four paws flailing wildly as he tried to claw Firestar again.

“Okay, that’ll do,” Firestar panted.

Shortwhisker scrambled to his paws. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Firestar’s flank was stinging, but he shook his head. “That was great. You’ve got the makings of a really dangerous fighter.”

Shortwhisker’s eyes glowed with the praise. “Really?”

“Really. There’s no need for you to feel ashamed in front of other cats.”

The tabby tom shrugged. “I’ll get used to it sooner or later, I guess.” He dipped his head to Firestar. “I’ll just practice the moves on my own for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine.”

Firestar padded back down the gorge to find that the training session was breaking up, with the other cats heading toward the camp. Sandstorm was sitting in the middle of the training space, grooming sand out of her fur.

“I had a talk with Shortwhisker,” Firestar began, telling her what had happened.

“I’ll make sure he gets the chance to train on his own,” Sandstorm promised. She finished her grooming and stood up. “I’m less worried about him than about Clovertail. She hasn’t been to a single training session yet.”

“She’s still taking care of her kits.”

Sandstorm’s whiskers twitched. “Her kits are old enough to be left for a short while. They could come and watch, for StarClan’s sake!”

“Don’t worry.” Firestar brushed his tail against her shoulder. “The kits will be apprenticed soon, and then Clovertail will see that she has to join in. Remember, she hasn’t been a Clan cat for long.”

Sandstorm sniffed. “When she was made a warrior, she promised to protect and defend the Clan. How does she expect to keep her promise if she never learns to fight?”

“Give her time,” Firestar urged. “She doesn’t understand what the promise means yet. One day she will.”

“And the sooner the better,” Sandstorm muttered.

Together the two cats strolled back to camp. Without conscious decision, their paws led them to the top of the Rockpile. Sandstorm lay down on one side, closing her eyes to slits as the sun beat down on her. Firestar sat beside her, looking down to where the river poured out. Patchfoot was sitting on a rock by the waterside, stretching down to lap. A couple of tail-lengths away, Cherrypaw and Sparrowpaw were play-fighting, while their mentors looked on and offered advice. Clovertail and her kits had crossed the river, and the kits were exploring the rocks near the water on that side.

“You know, this reminds me of Sunningrocks,” Sandstorm murmured. “The warm rock, the sound of the river… I wonder what the others are doing back home?”

“Graystripe will keep the Clan safe,” Firestar mewed. “I trust him more than any cat.”

Homesickness flooded over him. Even though he believed Skywatcher’s promise that ThunderClan was safe, he wanted to see his Clan deputy and his best friend more than anything.

Sandstorm stroked his shoulder gently with her tail tip. “I wonder how Sorrelpaw is getting on with Dustpelt.” She let out a soft mrrow of amusement. “I’d love to watch one of their training sessions!”

Firestar echoed her mrrow. “Let’s hope Dustpelt survives—”

He broke off at the sound of a terrified shriek from below.

Springing up, he saw Clovertail standing at the edge of the river, her fur fluffed out so that she looked twice her size.

For a heartbeat he couldn’t locate the kits. Then he spotted Bouncekit, struggling frantically as he was carried along in the surge of water as it flowed out of the cave. He scrabbled with his front paws, letting out a wail of terror that was cut off as his head went under.

By then Firestar was bounding down the rocks with Sandstorm hard on his paws. But Clovertail was faster.