Forest Of Secrets

“I hope you’re satisfied,” Tigerclaw snarled at Bluestar as he took his place beside her. “Now two Clans are yowling for our blood. We should have thrown out that piece of vermin long ago.”

Fireheart couldn’t help feeling surprised by Tigerclaw’s hostility toward the ThunderClan prisoner. Not long before, he had seen Tigerclaw sharing tongues with Brokentail, as if the deputy were reconciled to the cat staying in the Clan. But maybe it wasn’t so surprising that he had been ruffled—as they all had—by the clash with WindClan and ShadowClan.

“Tigerclaw, this is no place to argue among ourselves,” Bluestar told him quietly. “When we get back to camp—”

“And how do you intend to get back?” It was Nightstar who interrupted, pushing his way past the ThunderClan warriors. “Not the way you came, I hope. If you set one paw on ShadowClan territory, we’ll rip you to pieces.” He turned and slipped away into the shadows without waiting for a reply.

For a moment Bluestar looked confused. There was no other way back to the ThunderClan camp, Fireheart knew, unless they tried to swim the stream. He shivered at the thought of the fierce current that had almost cost him his life. Would they have to stay at Fourtrees until the floodwater went down? Then he caught the scent of RiverClan, and turned to see Crookedstar approaching with some of his warriors.

“I heard that,” the pale tabby tom addressed Bluestar. “Nightstar is wrong. At a time like this, all cats should help one another.” He glanced at Fireheart as he spoke, and Fireheart guessed he was remembering how Fireheart and Graystripe had helped RiverClan by sharing prey. But none of the ThunderClan cats here, except for Bluestar, knew anything about that, and Fireheart heard some uneasy murmurings from the warriors around him.

“I can offer you a way home,” Crookedstar continued. “To get here, we crossed the river by the Twoleg bridge. If you go that way, you can travel through our territory and cross back lower down—there’s a dead tree caught up by the stepping-stones.”

Before Bluestar could speak, Tigerclaw hissed, “And why should we trust RiverClan?”

Crookedstar ignored him, his amber eyes on Bluestar as he waited for her response. She dipped her head respectfully. “Thank you, Crookedstar. We accept your offer.”

The RiverClan leader nodded briefly and turned to escort her out of the clearing. There was still some muttering among the ThunderClan cats as Bluestar led her warriors through the bushes and up the slope out of the hollow. Cats from ShadowClan and WindClan hissed at them, even though RiverClan warriors flanked them protectively on both sides. Fireheart realized with a jolt that the divisions within the forest had shifted in the space of a single Gathering.

He was relieved when they reached the top of the slope and left the hostile Gathering behind them. He noticed Graystripe trying to edge his way closer to Silverstream, but another of the RiverClan queens was in his way, giving Silverstream a lick from time to time.

“You’re sure you’re not tired?” the queen fussed. “It’s a long journey when you’re expecting kits.”

“No, Greenflower, I’m fine,” Silverstream replied patiently, casting a frustrated glance at Graystripe over her friend’s head.

Tigerclaw brought up the rear of the ThunderClan patrol, swinging his huge head aggressively from side to side as if he expected the RiverClan cats to attack at any moment.

Bluestar, on the other hand, seemed to be quite at ease traveling with the other Clan. Once they were away from Fourtrees she let Crookedstar take the lead, while she dropped back to join Mistyfoot. “I hear you have kits,” she meowed, her voice level. “Are they well?”

Mistyfoot looked slightly surprised to be addressed by the ThunderClan leader. “Two…two of them were swept away in the river,” she stammered. “Fireheart and Graystripe saved them.”

“I’m sorry. You must have been frightened for them,” Bluestar murmured, her blue eyes soft with sympathy. “I’m glad ThunderClan warriors were able to help. Did your kits recover?”

“Yes, they’re fine now, Bluestar.” Mistyfoot still seemed bewildered at being questioned so closely by the ThunderClan leader. “They’re all fine. They’ll be apprentices soon.”

“And I’m sure they’ll make fine warriors,” Bluestar mewed warmly.

Watching his leader and the RiverClan queen walking step for step, Fireheart couldn’t help thinking how their blue-gray fur shone almost identically in the moonlight. They had the same neat, compact bodies, and when they had to leap over a log that lay in their path they both flexed their limbs with the same economical ripple of muscles. Stonefur, coming up behind, was a copy of his sister, with a silver sheen to his coat and an enviable deftness of movement.