Firestar’s Quest

As he paced the clearing, he heard a murmuring sound coming from Cinderpelt’s den, and brushed through the fern tunnel to find out what it was. Longtail lay in the ferns outside the split rock. His eyes were closed, but he looked too tense to be asleep. Sticky tears seeped from beneath his eye-lids.

Cinderpelt sat beside him, stroking his forehead lightly with the tip of her tail, murmuring to him words of comfort that a mother might use to soothe an injured kit. She glanced up as Firestar appeared.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asked.

Her blue eyes glinted in the moonlight. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Firestar shrugged and went to sit beside her. “I couldn’t sleep. How’s Longtail?”

“I’m not sure.” Cinderpelt dabbed up a pawful of chewed-up herbs from a leaf beside her and patted them gently onto Longtail’s eyes. Firestar recognized the sharp scent of marigold. “The bleeding has stopped, thank StarClan,” the medicine cat went on, “but his eyes are still very swollen.”

“Firestar.” Longtail raised his head, though he kept his eyes shut tight. “What will happen to me if I go blind? If I can’t be a warrior anymore?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Firestar mewed firmly.

“Whatever happens, there’ll always be a place for you in ThunderClan.”

Longtail let out a long sigh and lowered his head again.

Firestar thought he had relaxed a little, and hoped he would be able to sleep.

“Listen, Firestar.” Cinderpelt dabbed some more of the marigold poultice onto Longtail’s eyes as she spoke. “As your medicine cat, I’m telling you to get some rest.” More quietly, she added, “Your dream isn’t going to go away; you know that as well as I do. You need to find out what it means, and the only way to do that is to dream it over and over until you figure it out.”

Firestar hesitated; he wasn’t sure he agreed. Dreaming hadn’t told him much so far. “All right,” he mewed reluctantly.

“But if StarClan are trying to tell me something, I wish they would make it clearer.”

Obeying Cinderpelt, he padded back to his den. But this time he slept without dreaming at all.

Early the next morning he went back to the medicine cat’s den, taking her a squirrel from the fresh-kill pile. He found Cinderpelt still sitting beside Longtail, who was curled up asleep.

“Have you been here all night?” Firestar asked, dropping the squirrel at Cinderpelt’s side.

“Where else would I be? Longtail needs me. Don’t worry; I’m not tired.” She contradicted herself by stretching her jaws in an enormous yawn.

“Last night you told me to get some sleep,” Firestar pointed out. “Now, as your Clan leader, I’m telling you. It won’t do Longtail any good if our medicine cat gets ill.”

“But I’m worried about him.” Cinderpelt lowered her voice, even though Longtail was asleep. “I think his eyes are infected. The rabbit’s claws must have been dirty.”

Firestar peered at Longtail’s closed eyes. He couldn’t see much difference from the night before: they were still red and swollen, with sticky fluid and marigold pulp crusted around them.

“That’s bad news,” he mewed. “All the same, I think you should eat that fresh-kill and then get some rest. I’ll send Rainpaw to you again,” he added persuasively. “He can keep an eye on things and call you if Longtail wakes up.”

Cinderpelt rose to her paws and arched her back in a long stretch. “Okay,” she agreed. “But will you tell Rainpaw to fetch some more marigold first? There’s plenty near the top of the ravine.”

“Provided I see you eating that squirrel.”

Cinderpelt crouched down beside the squirrel, only to look up at Firestar again before she started to eat. “I’m so scared that I won’t be able to save Longtail’s sight,” she confessed.

Firestar gently touched his nose to her ear. “Every cat in the Clan knows you’re doing your best. Longtail knows it most of all.”

“What if my best isn’t good enough?”

“It will be. ThunderClan couldn’t have a better medicine cat.”

Cinderpelt sighed and shook her head before beginning to gulp down the squirrel. Firestar knew that he was wasting his breath trying to reassure her. If Longtail did go blind, Cinderpelt would blame herself, just as she had done when Graystripe’s mate, Silverstream, died bearing their kits.

Resting his tail briefly on the medicine cat’s shoulder, he went to look for Rainpaw.

Firestar led the way up the slope toward Fourtrees. Rain had fallen earlier that day, and drops clung to his pelt as he brushed through the long grass. But now the clouds had vanished and the full moon floated in a clear sky, surrounded by the glitter of Silverpelt.

The warriors Firestar had chosen to attend the Gathering followed hard on his paws. Brambleclaw was bounding along at his shoulder, his eyes gleaming as if he could hardly stop himself from taking the lead and racing up the slope.

“Calm down,” Graystripe meowed to him. “It’s not like this is your first Gathering.”

“No, but I was always an apprentice before,” Brambleclaw pointed out. “Graystripe, do you think Firestar will tell all the Clans that I’ve been made a warrior?”