Firestar’s Quest

“Why not? The ancestors of the forest Clans drove them out, and we know how wrong that was. Maybe now we’re supposed to bring them back.”

Sandstorm turned her head to smooth a piece of fur sticking up on her shoulder. “I suppose it could work,” she meowed. “They would have to split up and join the other four Clans, though. Now that the Twolegplace has been built, there isn’t room in the forest for a fifth Clan—that’s what caused all the trouble in the first place.”

“They won’t want to split up now,” Firestar warned.

“Somehow we would have to find a way of dividing the territory along new boundary lines.”

Sandstorm’s tail lashed. “There isn’t a way. You saw that for yourself when Scourge tried to move in with BloodClan.

SkyClan’s territory was lost when the Twolegs built their Twolegplace. The forest won’t support an extra Clan now.”

Firestar knew she was right, but guilt filled him up like rain filling an upturned leaf. Was he agreeing just because in his heart he didn’t want to give up any of his Clan’s territory?

Did that make him as bad as the original Clans who had driven SkyClan into exile?

Sandstorm pressed her muzzle against his. “There’s no point working yourself up,” she mewed. “SkyClan don’t want to go back to the forest. This is where they feel at home. You know,” she added, with a flick of her tail, “you’re only saying this because you’re afraid of leading them to their deaths. You need to trust their warrior ancestor who told you to come here and rebuild the Clan. He won’t let the rats wipe SkyClan out.”

“I suppose—” Firestar stopped talking, distracted by movement in the shadowy gorge below. Gazing down, he spotted Echosong climbing to the top of the Rockpile and making her way across to the other side of the river.

“Where is she going?” he wondered out loud.

He set off after her, but by the time he reached the bottom of the gorge, Echosong had disappeared. He tracked her by her scent across the Rockpile as far as the path that led beneath the rocks to the Whispering Cave. Quietly he slipped in after her, along the narrow ledge with the water gliding along just below his paws. Dawn light gleamed on the surface, fading behind him as he went further underground.

He found Echosong sitting by the water’s edge in the Whispering Cave, her paws tucked under her and her gaze fixed on the river as it silently slid by, green-black in the eerie half-light. At the sound of his approach she looked up. The pale light of the moss glimmered on her pelt and was reflected in her beautiful eyes.

“Echosong… ,” Firestar began.

“Tinykit just told me about hearing the voices,” she explained. Her eyes sparkled. “And it’s true, Firestar! I can hear them, too quiet to make out what they’re speaking, but they are all around me, welcoming me. Our warrior ancestors are here, just out of reach. When they are ready, they will come to me.”

Chapter 31

“Rats! Rats!”

Firestar struggled awake as the terrified yowl split the silence of the night. Darkness filled the warriors’ den, and for a few heartbeats he couldn’t work out where the entrance was. Guided by the movement of air against his whiskers, he headed outside, only to blunder over another warrior.

“Fox dung!” the other cat spat; Firestar identified Sharpclaw’s scent. “Get out of the way.”

He scrambled past Firestar and out of the cave. Firestar followed; in the entrance he brushed against another cat’s pelt, and Sandstorm’s scent wreathed around him. The yowling was drawing closer, and now Firestar could recognize Cherrypaw’s voice.

It was the night after he had discovered Echosong in the Whispering Cave. Rain had fallen all night, and clouds still covered the sky, blotting out the stars and the thin sliver of moon. Firestar’s paws slipped on the wet rock, and he saw himself plummeting into the gorge below. For a heartbeat his paws froze to the ledge; then as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness he could just make out the trail leading upward, and a cat pelting toward him.

“It’s the rats!” Cherrypaw gasped. “So many rats! They came over the cliff top…”

Firestar looked up. Where the trail met the edge of the gorge, a dark mass was flowing down toward him like water.

He couldn’t make out individual creatures, but a strong reek rolled ahead of them, and he knew Cherrypaw was right. The rats were attacking at last.

His belly clenched, but his voice was surprisingly steady when he spoke. “Sandstorm, go and make sure that the queens in the nursery know what’s happening. Then warn Echosong and Patchfoot. Stay down there and help them.”

“I’m on my way.” He felt Sandstorm’s tail tip brush his ear; then she was gone.

“Cherrypaw.” Firestar rested his tail on the panting tortoiseshell’s shoulder. “Sparrowpaw will be in your cave. Go and warn him. Then fight where you can do most good.”

“Right.” The apprentice squeezed past him and vanished down the trail.

“Sharpclaw, are you still there?”

A snarl came out of the darkness just ahead. “I’m over here. What are we waiting for?”