Firestar’s Quest

Then Sky drew in a deep breath and sat down again. “This is a time of truce. I will not seek revenge while the moon is full for the wrongs done to my ancestors.”

Firestar was beginning to feel alarmed. What was wrong with the gorge that meant SkyClan hadn’t been able to stay there? With some prey at least, freshwater and shelter, and little threat from Twolegs, the cliffside camp seemed to be a perfect refuge for cats.

“What happened?” he prompted. “Why did they all leave?”

Sky turned his head away. A low keening came from his throat, as if he were mourning for all the cats of SkyClan, driven out, lost, or dead.

Sandstorm padded forward and gently touched his shoulder with her tail. “Tell us why you’re called Sky,” she urged.

The old cat looked up at her. “My mother gave me that name,” he rasped, “so that I would never forget my ancestors.

And I never have. That’s why I come here every full moon.”

“That must get very lonely sometimes,” Sandstorm murmured.

Sighing, Sky looked up at the glitter of Silverpelt. “I don’t know if my warrior ancestors listen to me, but I will keep the way of the warrior alive until my last breath.”

“We know you stay in one of the caves on the night of the full moon,” Firestar began hesitantly, not wanting to upset the old cat any more. “Sandstorm and I have been sleeping there. I hope you don’t mind.”

Sky let out a disgusted snort. “Then you’ve met those two kittypets. That’s how you knew the stupid name they gave me.”

“Yes, we’ve seen them,” meowed Sandstorm.

“They live in a Twoleg nest and eat pap!” the old cat exclaimed. “And they say I’m mad!”

Firestar caught a glance from Sandstorm, as if she were trying to warn him not to mention that he had once been a kittypet. He certainly didn’t intend to; Sky’s opinion of him was low enough without that.

“We scared them away,” he told Sky. “You shouldn’t have any more trouble with them.”

Sky twitched his ears; for a moment Firestar thought he looked almost disappointed. “Did you notice anything…

unusual about them?” he asked.

Firestar cast his mind back to the encounter with the kittypets. He couldn’t remember anything distinctive, except for their rudeness, and he didn’t think Sky meant that. Then he pictured the two of them as they ran back to the Twoleg nest. “Cherry jumped into a tree,” he recalled. “Is that what you mean?”

Sky nodded. “I think those two kittypets are descended from SkyClan cats.”

Sandstorm’s ears pricked with surprise. “Those two mouse-brains?”

“When the Clan was forced out of the gorge,” Sky explained, “most of the cats, including my mother’s mother, became rogues or loners. But some of them, those who were too old or too young to hunt, went to live with Twolegs.” He stared across the scrubland to where the harsh orange lights of the Twolegplace stained the sky. “Strange… ,” he murmured. “So many of those cats must share my blood, yet none of them knows who I really am.” He bowed his head again.

“What happened?” Firestar asked. “Why did SkyClan have to leave the gorge?”

The old cat did not reply; Firestar wasn’t even sure if he had heard the question.

“You look tired,” Sandstorm mewed. “Would you like me to hunt for you?”

Sky tensed; Firestar was afraid that Sandstorm’s offer had offended him. Then he looked up, blinking gratefully. “Thank you. It’s been a long night.”

Immediately Sandstorm leaped across the rift and disappeared down the trail into the gorge. Firestar followed more slowly with Sky. He was ready to help the old cat cross the gap, but leaping down from the rock was easier than leaping up, and Sky landed with all four paws firmly on the trail.

Firestar let him take the lead to the cave.

As he padded behind, Firestar realized that Sky reminded him of Yellowfang. He had the same proud reserve as the former medicine cat; he was clearly uncomfortable and prickly around other cats, yet he shared Yellowfang’s strength and her deep commitment to her Clan. Sky had all the qualities of a true warrior: courage, faith, and loyalty to his Clan. Yet everything he was had been based only on tales told to him by his mother. SkyClan from his nose to the tip of his tail, he had never been part of a real Clan.

Sky clambered up to the mouth of the cave and paused, whiskers twitching. Firestar was nervous that he would feel insulted that he and Sandstorm had brought in bedding, when he must have slept on the bare sandy floor. The old cat let out a faint snort, then padded over to one of the hollows and curled up without any comment in a nest of ferns and feathers.

He was barely settled when Sandstorm appeared in the entrance, a mouse dangling from her jaws. She crossed the cave to Sky and laid it down in front of him.

The gray cat reached out one paw and prodded it. “A bit skinny, isn’t it?” Before Sandstorm could defend her catch, he dragged the mouse closer and began devouring it in rapid gulps.

Sandstorm glanced at Firestar, her eyes glimmering with laughter, and mouthed, Yellowfang!