Firestar’s Quest

“I’ve seen that old cat a few times,” the rogue meowed when Firestar recounted his meeting with Sky. “I’ve never spoken to him, though. He looks mad to me.”

“He’s not mad. He knows more about the lost Clan than any cat alive.” Firestar explained what Sky had told them.

“The Clan lived here many moons ago, in the caves near the rocks where the river pours out. They’re all gone now, but Sky believes that I can find their descendants and rebuild the Clan.”

Firestar was suddenly aware of how foolish he sounded. “I know it’s a big decision for any cat… ,” he went on.

“Not for me.” Clover looked up, her ears pricked. “I’d come and live in your Clan in a heartbeat. My kits’ father went away before they were born, and it’s hard bringing them up on my own.” She drew her tail more closely around her kits; by now they had finished suckling, and lay sleeping in a tricolored puddle of warm fur. “Suppose that fox comes back when you’ve gone?”

“I could look after you,” the rogue tom reminded her. “I turned up in time today, didn’t I?”

“But you hardly ever come this far up the gorge,” Clover retorted. “How often have we spoken to each other before now?” Ignoring his hiss of annoyance, she turned back to Firestar. “I’ll join the new Clan. We’ll all come back to the caves with you today.”

Firestar felt his paws tingle with excitement. A nursing queen and three kits was a valuable addition to any Clan.

“Well, that’s great. We can go now. What about you?” he added with a glance at the ginger tom. “Will you join us too?”

“I manage fine by myself, thanks.”

Firestar’s pelt prickled with disappointment. This proud, strong, intelligent cat would make a good warrior.

“Mind you,” the rogue went on, before Firestar could think of a way to persuade him, “I like the idea of training cats to defend themselves. And I liked the fighting moves you used to drive the fox away.”

“Come with us and we’ll teach you,” Firestar offered.

The ginger rogue blinked at him. “You’d really teach me everything you know?” He sounded as if he couldn’t believe cats would share battle secrets that would make them easier to fight.

“Of course,” mewed Firestar. “Clanmates don’t fight one another, except for training.”

“That could be a good way to live,” the rogue meowed.

“Then you’ll come?” Sandstorm asked eagerly.

The rogue hesitated, then dipped his head. “I’ll give it a try. But I’m not promising to stay for good.”

“We won’t ask you to decide that yet,” mewed Firestar.

“Just come to the caves for a while, and find out more about what it means to live in a Clan.”

“And tell us your name, please,” Sandstorm added.

For a few heartbeats the ginger tom was silent, staring into the distance. “Living alone, a cat doesn’t need a name, but now… A long time ago, I think my mother called me Scratch.”

The waning moon floated above the gorge, shedding pale light over the Skyrock. Firestar jumped over the cleft and stood back to wait for Sandstorm.

“Well?” he asked when his mate had landed by his side.

“What do you think? Have we got the makings of a new Clan?”

Sandstorm sat down and gave her chest fur a few quick licks.

“It’s a start,” she mewed, “but there’s a long way to go yet.”

“I know,” Firestar replied. “I’m afraid Scratch will decide not to stay. He didn’t want to sleep in the warriors’ cave with us tonight. He’s still thinking like a rogue.”

“Give him time. What worries me,” Sandstorm went on, drawing one paw over her ear, “is the way Clover wants to be looked after the whole time. I tried to tell her that the proper place for her and her kits is in the nursery—I even offered to collect the moss and bracken for her—but would she listen?

She insists on sleeping in the warriors’ cave, in case the fox finds her.”

“She needs time too,” Firestar comforted her, resting his tail tip on her shoulder. “She had a nasty fright today. She’ll soon learn fighting skills, and then she’ll realize she can look after her kits herself.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sandstorm meowed.

Firestar heard the sound of pawsteps on the trail leading up to the Skyrock. He glanced down, half prepared to see Scratch, but to his surprise the cat who came into sight was Sky.

“What’s he doing here?” he murmured to Sandstorm.

“The moon isn’t full.”

Moonlight turned the old cat’s gray pelt to silver; he walked with his head raised proudly, like a true warrior of SkyClan. As he approached the Skyrock, he quickened his pace, and leaped across without hesitation to land on the smooth surface.

“Greetings, Sky.” Firestar and Sandstorm dipped their heads to him.

The old cat returned their greeting with a brief nod. “I saw more cats arrive today.”

“That’s right.” Firestar expected Sky to sound more pleased, but there was a wary glitter in his eyes. “I think we might be on the way to rebuilding SkyClan.”

A low growl rumbled in Sky’s throat. “That ginger rogue would tear your throat out as soon as look at you. And as for those kittypets! I don’t know why you’re wasting your time with them.”