Firestar’s Quest

For the next two days they continued to follow the river through fields of wheat that stretched as far as they could see on either side. On the third day they left the fields and slid through a gap in the hedge onto a stretch of rough grass that sloped gently down to the river. Rushes thickly fringed the bank. Hot gusts of wind rattled them together; as Firestar drew closer he picked up the scents of voles and waterbirds, and heard small creatures rustling among the stems. The sun was going down, turning the river to flame.

Before they had gone far along the bank, Firestar heard the roaring of monsters in the distance. Tasting the air, he picked up a familiar harsh tang. “There’s a Thunderpath up ahead.”

“Then we’ll have to cross it.” Sandstorm’s tail twitched.

“There might not be so many monsters out now.”

Soon Firestar made out a line of trees, black against the scarlet sky. The setting sun glinted on the bright, unnatural colors of swift-pawed monsters. Rounding a bend in the river, he caught sight of a Twoleg bridge made of stone, with monsters hurtling across it.

“The Thunderpath goes over the river. We’ll be safe underneath.” Sandstorm sounded pleased.

But Firestar felt uneasy as they approached the bridge. It cast a dark shadow over the path, and as the daylight died the monsters shot brilliant beams of light from their eyes, sweeping across the riverbank. He froze as one beam picked them out, and heard a gasp from Sandstorm, but the monster snarled and rushed on.

Firestar let out a sigh of relief. “It didn’t spot us.”

“I don’t like this,” Sandstorm meowed. “Let’s get out of here.”

Firestar let her take the lead as they ran under the bridge.

The stones were damp, and water dripped from the arch into the river. From the depths of the shadows Firestar saw the light beams of another monster, approaching fast along the Thunderpath above their heads. Suddenly its roar was all around them, echoing and reechoing from stone and water.

Firestar froze, imagining the creature’s huge jaws parted to swallow them.

Sandstorm let out a panic-stricken yowl. “Run!”

Terror crashed through Firestar; his legs propelled him forward until he was racing along the riverbank. He fled along the edge of the reed beds until the bridge was left far behind and he couldn’t hear the monsters above the rasping of his own breath.

Only exhaustion slowed him down. He stood panting on the bank, his paws stinging and every hair on his pelt bristling. Sandstorm crouched beside him, looking back the way they had come, her tail lashing.

“Are you okay?” she asked when she had caught her breath.

Firestar tried to make his pelt lie flat. “I thought we were crow-food for sure. And I feel I’ve lost every scrap of skin from my pads. I don’t know if we’ll be able to go much farther tonight.”

Sandstorm’s eyes gleamed in the gathering darkness, and she parted her jaws to taste the air. “Wait there,” she instructed, and vanished through the reeds toward the water’s edge.

“What—” Firestar broke off as he realized she had gone.

Collapsing onto one side, he licked his stinging pads until his mate reappeared, carrying a bunch of broad leaves in her jaws.

“Dock,” she announced, dropping the leaves beside

Firestar. “Rub it on your pads. Cinderpelt said there’s nothing better for soreness.”

“Thanks.” Firestar blinked gratefully at her and rubbed his pads against the surface of the leaf. The cool juices soothed the discomfort, and he stretched his jaws in a yawn; it would be good to sleep, but there was still light in the sky, and he knew they should go on for as long as they could.

The river chattered swiftly through the rushes, narrower than where it flowed through the forest. Looking back the way they had come, Firestar saw a single warrior of StarClan shining in the sky. Just below it, hills stood up like jagged teeth, and Firestar realized that he was gazing back at Highstones; that last glimpse of the world he had known made him feel lonelier and more lost than ever.

He shook his head and stood up. “The dock leaves worked fine,” he meowed. “Come on. We’d better try to get a bit farther.”

Sandstorm gave her pads a last rub on the leaves and got up to follow him. Instead of being comforted by her presence, Firestar wondered if she really understood what was driving him to make this journey, and if she was wishing that she had stayed at home in ThunderClan.

The breeze dropped; although the sun had gone, the night was hot and sticky. Clouds gathered in the sky, spreading until they covered the moon and stars.

“I can’t see my paws in front of me,” Firestar muttered. “At this rate, we’ll end up in the river.”

“We’d better stop for the night,” mewed Sandstorm.

Firestar could just make out her pale ginger shape in the gloom, her head raised as she tasted the air. “There’s a strong scent of vole,” she went on. “Suppose I hunt, while you find us a place to sleep.”

“Fine.” Firestar knew his mate was the best hunter in ThunderClan. “Don’t go too far, though.”