Firestar’s Quest

Determined to be gone before Smudge’s Twolegs found him in their garden, Firestar bounded across the grass and leaped to the top of the fence.

“Good-bye, Firestar!” It was Hattie’s voice; Firestar spotted her in the next garden, balanced on a low branch of the scratching tree. He waved his tail to her in farewell. “Come and see us again!” she called as he sprang down from the fence and plunged back into the shadow of the trees.

Once he was out of sight of the Twoleg nests he slowed his pace. For once the forest seemed strange to him. He felt oddly detached from it, as if it weren’t real anymore. Instead, he kept thinking of the moorland, and the wails of fleeing cats. Was he really meant to be following in their pawsteps?

After the damp night, the sun had risen into a clear blue sky. Every bush was draped with glittering cobwebs, and dew sparkled on every blade of grass, soaking Firestar’s fur as he brushed through. He halted, his paws tingling when he picked up the scent of approaching cats, only to relax as Thornclaw pushed through a clump of ferns, closely followed by Sootpaw, Sootpaw’s mother, Willowpelt, and Ashfur.

Firestar gave his pelt an annoyed shake. Of course, this was the dawn patrol! Was his mind so full of SkyClan that he couldn’t recognize the scent of his own Clanmates?

“Hi, Firestar.” Thornclaw padded up to him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes—everything’s fine.” Firestar wasn’t about to explain why he had spent the night away from camp.

Thornclaw exchanged a swift glance with Willowpelt, then turned back to his Clan leader. “Graystripe suggested I should take Sootpaw out with me today,” he meowed, resting the tip of his tail on the apprentice’s shoulder. “Longtail can’t mentor him when his eyes are so bad.”

“Good idea.” A pang of guilt stabbed Firestar like a claw; he should have thought about Sootpaw’s training as soon as his mentor, Longtail, had his accident. His dreams of SkyClan were distracting him from his duty to his Clan. “In fact,” he went on, “I think you should take over as Sootpaw’s mentor until Longtail is fit again.” If he ever is. Firestar didn’t dare say it out loud. He was reluctant to admit, even to himself, that Cinderpelt wouldn’t be able to save Longtail from blindness.

Thornclaw’s eyes gleamed. He was a young warrior, and so far he hadn’t had an apprentice. “Thanks, Firestar!” he meowed.

“I’ll announce it later today,” Firestar promised.

“Providing Longtail agrees.”

“I’m sure he will,” Sootpaw put in. “I’ve been taking him fresh-kill and fixing his bedding, and I can still do that.”

“Good.” Firestar gave him an approving nod. Needing to plunge himself back into the life of his Clan, he added, “I’ll join you on patrol, and Sootpaw, you can show me your tracking skills.”

The apprentice’s eyes shone with excitement at the thought of training with his Clan leader. As Thornclaw led the way along the border toward the Thunderpath, Sootpaw kept his nose to the ground, pausing to scent the air every few pawsteps.

“What can you smell?” Firestar meowed.

“The Thunderpath,” Sootpaw replied promptly. “And vole. And a Twoleg with a dog has been along here. No—two dogs.”

“How long ago?” Willowpelt asked.

“Not today,” Sootpaw mewed. “The scent is stale. Maybe yesterday.”

“That’s what I think, too,” Firestar meowed, while

Willowpelt let out a purr of satisfaction. “Okay, carry on.

Sootpaw, tell me if you scent anything else.”

They were so close to the Thunderpath that Firestar could hear the growling of the monsters as they rushed up and down. Soon they emerged from the undergrowth at the edge of the smooth black surface.

Sootpaw wrinkled his nose. “It’s really yucky,” he complained. “It hides all the other scents.”

“Right,” meowed Thornclaw. “That means you have to be extra careful.”

With the rest of the patrol following, he picked his way along the edge of the Thunderpath, keeping well away from the huge black paws of the monsters. Firestar felt his fur buffeted by the wind as they passed by.

He helped Thornclaw, Ashfur, and Willowpelt renew the border scent markings, and watched Sootpaw as the apprentice went on practicing his scenting skills. Suddenly the young black cat veered away from the border.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Thornclaw called.

Sootpaw glanced back, eyes alight with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. “I’ve found a really weird scent,” he explained.

“Well, you can’t follow it now,” Thornclaw told him. “This isn’t a hunting patrol.”

“What sort of weird?” Firestar asked. The reek of the Thunderpath was still blocking out most other scents.

“Strong,” Sootpaw replied. “I’ve never smelled it before.”

Firestar exchanged a glance with Thornclaw. “Okay, let’s follow it.”

This time Sootpaw led the way deeper into the undergrowth, and as they left the Thunderpath behind, Firestar began to pick up the new scent. He halted, his fur prickling.

“Badger!”

“Oh, no!” Willowpelt protested.

Thornclaw snorted. “Just what we need.” Ashfur remained silent, but his blue eyes widened.