Firestar’s Quest

“I wish you would.” Sandstorm brushed her muzzle against Sky’s shoulder; the old cat tensed, but didn’t protest.

“There’s so much you can tell us.”

Sky hesitated, then flicked his ears. “I’m not welcome here.

Those kittypets… I’ve been driven out, just like my ancestors.”

“I’m sorry—” Firestar began.

“Don’t feel sorry for me!” Sky’s blue eyes flashed. “I’ve got a perfectly good den of my own. I don’t need anything.”

His voice ached with a loneliness that contradicted his words.

Sandstorm padded across to the small fresh-kill pile she and Firestar had made, and picked out a plump vole, which she carried over to Sky. “Please eat,” she mewed.

The old cat’s eyes glinted with surprise, but he crouched down to devour the vole. Sandstorm fetched a starling for herself, while Firestar used Sky’s moss to line their nests. It was paler than the moss that grew in the forest, and he was still puzzled about where Sky had found it. There hadn’t been time for the old cat to go far.

By the time Firestar settled down to eat, Sky was swallowing the last scraps of fresh-kill. “Thanks.” He grunted. “I’ve eaten worse.”

Sandstorm dipped her head. “Please, will you show us where you found the moss?” she asked. “And maybe some of the other places you remember from when you were young?”

Firestar gave Sandstorm an appreciative glance. It was a good idea to nudge the old cat along the path of his memories; he must want to share them, after being so long alone.

Sky rose to his paws and padded over to the cave entrance.

His gaze fell on the scratch marks on the stone trunk; Firestar thought he flinched before he turned to look out at the hazy sky. “I’ll show you the moss,” he meowed, “and the other places my mother used to take me. But we should go now. It’s going to be a hot day, so we’ll need to be back before sunhigh.”

Firestar gulped down the rest of his sparrow and stood up.

“I’m ready,” he mewed to Sky. “Lead the way.”

The elderly cat took the stony trail that led to the bottom of the gorge, then leaped up to the top of the pile of boulders where the river appeared. His movements were stiff, but Firestar was impressed by how agile he was, in spite of his age.

Sky’s flanks were heaving with effort by the time he reached the top, but as he turned back to watch Firestar and Sandstorm scrambling up after him, Firestar thought he could detect a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“This was called the Rockpile,” he announced once

Firestar and Sandstorm were standing beside him, panting.

“The SkyClan leader stood up here when he wanted to call a Clan meeting. The rest of the Clan gathered around the pool.” He flicked his tail toward the jutting rock high overhead, behind them. “You already know the Skyrock; that’s where the Clan gathered at the full moon.”

“Why did SkyClan hold Gatherings when there weren’t any other Clans?” Firestar asked.

The old cat’s eyes clouded. “Because that is the way of the warrior. The Clan would gather there to be closer to the stars.” He turned away from the jutting rock. “Up there were the dens,” he went on, pointing to the caves with his tail.

“The warriors used the one where we’ve been sleeping. Below that was the elders’ den, and—”

“Oh, we thought the lowest den would be where the elders lived,” Sandstorm interrupted. “Because—” She broke off, giving her chest fur a few quick licks to cover her embarrassment.

“Because old cats are too stiff to climb?” Sky growled, though Firestar was sure that his eyes were warm. “No—SkyClan cats never lost the power to jump. That lowest den was the medicine cat’s, close to the water and where the herbs grow.”

He went on to point out the nursery—which was the cave with the tiny claw marks Firestar and Sandstorm had picked out—the apprentices’ den, and the Clan leader’s, a little way away from the others, next to the trail that led up to the Skyrock.

“Did the river ever flood?” Sandstorm asked.

“Yes, but never as high as the warriors’ cave,” Sky replied.

“The whole Clan used to shelter there in the worst storms, so my mother said.”

He gazed up at the caves for a heartbeat longer, as if he were imagining the trails busy with cats. Then he gave himself a brisk shake. “Come on. I’ll show you the moss.”

He jumped down from the highest boulder and picked his way down the pile on the opposite side of the river. Firestar wondered where he was going. They were uncomfortably near the black water where it appeared from among the rocks; did Sky expect them to swim?

Instead, the old cat veered around the lowest boulder and vanished. Firestar blinked. Where had he gone? Then he spotted a narrow ledge leading into the cave just above the level of the blue-green water.

A voice came from the darkness. “Are you coming or not?”

Firestar swallowed, exchanging a glance with Sandstorm.

His mate shrugged. “We can’t not,” she mewed.