Firestar’s Quest

“Sure.” Boris scraped the ground with his paw. “The other cats say we’re showing off, but it’s just something we’ve always been able to do.”

“Well, it’s a good skill,” Firestar meowed. “And if you both have it, it must mean that your ancestors could jump like that too. If they can see you now, I’m sure they’re very proud.”

Boris was looking puzzled. “Yeah, but they can’t see us, can they?”

Firestar wondered if this was the time to tell the young cats about SkyClan, but he felt it was too soon. “Eat the squirrel if you like,” he encouraged them, changing the sub-ject. “You haven’t got a hungry Clan to feed.”

“It smells yummy,” Boris mewed. “Do you want some?”

Water was flooding Firestar’s jaws at the warm aroma of the fresh-kill. His belly yowled with hunger after the long day with Sky, but he wouldn’t take another cat’s prey. Besides, he had fresh-kill of his own to share with Sandstorm when he returned to the cave.

“No, thanks,” he replied. “You and Cherry share it.”

The two young cats glanced at each other uncertainly.

“The thing is,” Cherry began, “our housefolk get worried if we don’t eat their food. And if we’re stuffed full of squirrel, well…”

“They might give us less next time!” Boris meowed worriedly.

Firestar, who had seen cats starving for lack of prey, couldn’t really sympathize. But some cat had to eat the squirrel. Left lying there, it would only attract foxes.

“You know what?” Cherry put in before he could speak. “It smells so good, I don’t care! We can always catch another if our housefolk don’t feed us enough.”

She crouched down beside the squirrel and began to tear into it. A heartbeat later Boris joined her, ravenously gulping down the fresh-kill. Hiding his amusement, Firestar wished them good-bye and went to collect his own prey.

The sun was going down and the caves were in shadow by the time he returned to the SkyClan camp. Sandstorm was sitting at the entrance of the warriors’ cave, gazing across the gorge.

“You had good hunting,” she commented as Firestar dropped his fresh-kill at her paws.

“Yes, and I came across those two kittypets again.” He told her about the hunting lesson, and how Cherry and Boris had caught the squirrel. He said nothing to her about his odd sensation of being watched by hostile eyes before the kittypets arrived; he might have imagined it, and he didn’t want to worry her for nothing.

“They’ve got the makings of good warriors,” Sandstorm commented when he had finished. “Did you ask them if they wanted to join SkyClan?”

“No—”

“Why not?” Sandstorm twitched the tip of her tail. “You have to start somewhere.”

“I haven’t decided whether I want to start at all.”

She tipped her head to one side. “So you’re going to let Sky down?”

Firestar couldn’t answer. He still felt it was too late to rebuild the lost Clan, but guilt swept over him when he thought of the pain Sky would suffer if he refused to try.

“I think we can do it,” Sandstorm went on. “But we can’t stay here forever. We have Clanmates of our own who need us, so we ought to start collecting the scattered SkyClan cats as soon as we can.”

She knew him so well, putting her paw on the reason for his doubts. How could he reconcile his duty to his own Clan with the task that Sky had set him? Which path must he choose if he was to stay faithful to the warrior code?

“Cherry and Boris are strong-willed cats,” he began. “If they’re going to live by the warrior code, they need to adapt to it of their own accord. At the moment, they see nothing wrong with their lives. They have to choose the warrior code because they really believe it’s the right way to live.”

Sandstorm gave him a doubtful look, clearly wondering if he was just making excuses. Firestar wasn’t sure himself.

“Have some fresh-kill,” he mewed, patting the squirrel toward Sandstorm. “I’ll think about what Sky said. Maybe it will be clearer in the morning.”

StarClan, show me the way! Show me how I can help this Clan!

Chapter 22

“Firestar! Firestar!”

Firestar opened his eyes to see the dark shapes of two cats outlined against the light in the cave entrance. “For StarClan’s sake, what’s the matter?” he grumbled, scrambling to his paws.

As the two cats bounced into the cave he could make them out more clearly: Cherry and Boris, their ears pricked and their eyes bright.

“We want another hunting lesson!” Cherry announced.

“Please,” her brother added, giving her a nudge.

Sandstorm was stirring too, her green eyes no more than slits. She stretched her jaws in a huge yawn. “I thought all kittypets slept until sunhigh,” she grunted, crawling out of her nest and giving herself a shake.

“Sometimes we do,” meowed Boris. “But it was so exciting yesterday, and—”

“We had such fun!” Cherry interrupted. “You will take us with you today, won’t you?”

Their enthusiasm surprised Firestar, but it pleased him too. A sudden pang of homesickness struck him: these two 2 6 9