Firestar’s Quest

He didn’t add that the longer they waited, the more tired the Clan would become. Any cat could see that. The rats probably knew it too; they more were clever than any rats he had ever known. Firestar’s respect for them was growing every day, but that only made him hate them all the more. He would have led a patrol to fight the rats on their own territory, to attack them first and win the advantage of surprise, but for one thing: SkyClan didn’t have a medicine cat to heal their wounds or read the signs from StarClan.

“Let’s keep going,” he muttered.

As they paused in the shelter of the fence that surrounded the first Twoleg gardens, Sparrowpaw peered through a gap with a trace of sadness in his eyes. “That’s where Cherrypaw and I used to live,” he murmured. Defensively he added, “It’s not that I want to go back—”

“I know,” Firestar reassured him. “Twolegs aren’t our enemies, even if they don’t understand the warrior’s way of life.

Now and then I miss my old Twolegs.”

“You do?” Sparrowpaw’s eyes widened.

Firestar nodded. “They were good to me. But I was born for the life of a warrior.”

Sparrowpaw straightened up; pride replaced the sadness in his eyes. “So was I.”

“My Twolegs have a new cat now,” Firestar went on. “Her name’s Hattie. She seems nice—much better suited to living with housefolk than I was.”

For a heartbeat Sparrowpaw looked alarmed at the thought of another cat taking his place. Then he gave his chest fur a couple of quick licks. “I hope my housefolk get another cat, too,” he mewed bravely. “Then they wouldn’t be sad anymore about losing me and Cherrypaw.”

Firestar rested the tip of his tail on the young cat’s shoulder. “Come on. We have a cat to find.”

He felt his bristling pelt relax a little as he and Sparrowpaw slipped down the first alley that led into the heart of the Twolegplace. Twolegs and dogs he had dealt with before, and here among the Twoleg nests they were less likely to encounter the clever, coldhearted rats.

Sparrowpaw, however, looked much less at ease than he had when he and Firestar had last visited the Twolegplace.

His pelt fluffed up at the distant barking of a dog, and when they emerged from the alley onto the edge of a small Thunderpath, he leaped into the air as a glittering monster snarled past. “I guess I’ve forgotten what it’s like around here,” he mewed, giving his shoulder an embarrassed lick.

After carefully checking that no more monsters were around, Firestar led the way down another alley, to be met at once by a powerful scent of cat.

“Well, look who’s here,” a voice drawled.

Sparrowpaw jumped, his pelt bristling again. Firestar looked up to see the black kittypet, Oscar, stretched out on the top of the wall. His jaws gaped in a yawn, showing sharp teeth.

“If it isn’t the mad rogue,” he sneered, with a dismissive twitch of his whiskers at Firestar. “And little Boris! Actually, I’ve been expecting you,” he added. “But I thought you’d come a bit sooner than this.”

Firestar froze. Surely Oscar couldn’t be the medicine cat Skywatcher had told him of?

The black tomcat leaped lightly down from the wall and confronted them. “Crawling back to your housefolk, are you, now the weather’s turning cold?”

“No, I am not!” Sparrowpaw glared at the black tom. “I’m going to be a warrior. And don’t call me Boris. I’m Sparrowpaw now.”

Oscar let out a snort of amusement. “Sparrowpaw! What sort of name is that?”

“It’s my name.” Sparrowpaw slid his claws out. “Do you want to make something of it?”

Hastily Firestar thrust himself between the two bristling toms. “We’re not here to fight,” he meowed, though privately he would have liked to see the battle-trained SkyClan apprentice show Oscar just how much he had learned in the past moon. “We’re looking for a special cat,” he went on to Oscar. “One who has weird dreams. Have you heard about a cat like that?”

Please, Skywatcher, he added silently, don’t let Oscar tell me that he dreams about you!

Oscar’s green eyes widened, gleaming with contempt.

“No,” he replied. “And I haven’t heard about any cats who fly, either.”

“You think you know everything, you—” Sparrowpaw began hotly.

“I think you are looking for me,” another voice interrupted him from behind, clear and young. “My name is Echo.

I dream of cats with stars in their fur.”

Chapter 30

A shiver ran through Firestar from ears to tail tip. A couple of heartbeats passed before he could force his paws to move and let him turn to face the newcomer. He saw a silver-gray tabby she-cat with deep green eyes, small and gracefully built, with tiny dark gray paws. To Firestar she looked almost fragile, and he wondered if she was suited for the tough life of a Clan.

“Greetings,” he meowed. “Have you dreamed of… of a gray-and-white cat?”