Firestar’s Quest

“That’s good,” Graystripe meowed. His shock had faded; he had a resolute look in his eyes, and Firestar realized all over again what a good friend he was, and what a worthy deputy of ThunderClan. “Cinderpelt and I will take care of the Clan for you,” he promised. His whiskers twitched. “I always knew you had a destiny that stretched beyond our territory. Perhaps it’s time for fire to save another Clan.”

“We swear by StarClan, we will keep ThunderClan safe for you,” Cinderpelt meowed.

“Thank you,” Firestar replied, feeling very humble. The leaves rustled above his head and he looked up, half expecting to see the pale-furred SkyClan leader looking down at him from a branch. He saw nothing, but in the whispering breeze he seemed to hear his words repeated.

Thank you…

Chapter 10

Firestar padded through Cinderpelt’s fern tunnel, swiping his tongue around his jaws to clear the bitter taste of the traveling herbs.

Behind him, he could hear Sandstorm talking to the medicine cat.

“Let me make sure I’ve got this straight. Cobweb to stop bleeding, marigold for infection, yarrow to get rid of poison…”

“That’s right,” Cinderpelt replied. “And if you get belly-ache, watermint or juniper berries are good.”

Sandstorm began repeating the remedies under her breath. In the two days since Firestar had asked her to come with him, she had spent most of her time learning what she could from Cinderpelt. “It’ll be dangerous, going off without a medicine cat,” she had explained to Firestar. “At least I can learn what the most useful herbs are.”

Firestar emerged from the ferns and bounded across to the Highrock. His cats parted in silence to let him through; their gazes followed him as he sprang up onto the Highrock.

“They don’t want you to go,” Sandstorm murmured, joining him a few moments later.

“I know.” Firestar suppressed a sigh. Apart from leading 1 1 3

his warriors into battle against BloodClan, this was the hardest thing he had ever had to do as Clan leader.

He looked down to meet the puzzled eyes of his Clan. It broke his heart that they seemed hurt by his reluctance to tell them about his journey; yet how could he tell them where he was going, when he didn’t know himself? He had to let them think it was StarClan sending him away, not a Clan they’d never heard of, with no place left in the forest.

Graystripe stood at the base of the rock with the Clan warriors around him. Firestar spotted Sootpaw with Thornclaw, and Sorrelpaw with her new mentor, Dustpelt. Rainpaw and Cloudtail sat next to them; Firestar was glad to see the three apprentices beginning to get over the shock of their mother’s death, enough to return to training. Brambleclaw was sitting with Ashfur and Mousefur. Speckletail was glaring up at Firestar as if he were an apprentice who had scratched her while searching for ticks. Dappletail and One-eye sat close together, whispering and casting swift glances up at the cats on the rock.

Cinderpelt guided Longtail out of her clearing and brought him to sit nearby. Outside the nursery Ferncloud sat with Brightheart; instead of playing, Ferncloud’s two kits crouched close to their mother, as if even they understood how troubled the Clan was.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” Firestar began. “It’s time for us to leave—”

“And what for, that’s what I want to know,” Mousefur interrupted, the tip of her tail twitching. “StarClan are supposed to look after the forest. Not send a Clan leader gallivanting off who knows where.”

“What can be more important than caring for your Clan?”

Thornclaw added.

Firestar couldn’t answer. His warriors were right. But they hadn’t heard the cats wailing in the mist; they hadn’t seen how desperate the SkyClan leader was to find his lost Clan.

“And what about my kits?” Ferncloud fretted. Her claws worked on the dusty ground. “There’s a badger somewhere in the territory. Have you thought about that?”

“Yes, of course I have,” Firestar replied, finding his voice.

“But ThunderClan has a deputy. I trust him to look after the Clan just as well as I do. And you have Cinderpelt to take care of any injuries and interpret the signs of StarClan. No Clan could have a better medicine cat.”

Cinderpelt bowed her head; Graystripe’s eyes glowed, while a murmur of agreement rose from the rest of the Clan.

“Firestar wouldn’t leave us unless he had to.” It was Brightheart, stepping forward from where she had been sitting next to Ferncloud. “If StarClan has told him he must go, then we must trust our warrior ancestors to take care of him and bring him safely back. They have never let us down before—why would they take our leader from us now if it wasn’t the right thing to do?”

Firestar’s pelt crawled as the other cats agreed; they were obviously comforted by the thought that there were good, wise cats watching over them, always making the right decisions and fighting for truth and honor. But if their faith meant they would let him go…