Rising Storm

Fireheart’s chest ached with pride. He stared at the lithe shape, silhouetted against the trees on the other shore, and could hardly stop himself from leaping into the water and swimming to her side. But he had to see the rest of the Clan across first, and he forced himself to watch his Clanmates as they began to plunge headlong into the river.

Dustpelt and Cloudpaw dragged Patchpelt’s body to the water’s edge. Dustpelt looked down at it, then gazed across the river, his expression bleak at the impossibility of carrying the dead cat to the other side when it would be difficult enough to swim alone.

Fireheart padded to the warrior’s side. “Leave him here,” he murmured, even though the prospect of leaving another cat behind tore at his heart. “We can come back and bury him when the fire has passed.”

Dustpelt nodded and waded into the river with Cloudpaw. The apprentice was almost unrecognizable under the smoke stains, and Fireheart touched his nose to the young cat’s flank as he passed, hoping Cloudpaw could sense how proud his mentor was of his quiet courage.

When Fireheart lifted his head he saw Smallear hesitating at the river’s edge. On the far side, Sandstorm was standing belly-deep in water, helping the cats as they struggled to the shore. She called encouragingly to the old gray tom, but Smallear backed away as another bolt of lightning lit up the sky. Fireheart dashed toward the trembling elder, grabbed him by the scruff, and plunged into the river. Smallear wailed and floundered as Fireheart struggled to keep his head above the surface. The water felt icy after the heat of the flames, and Fireheart found himself gasping for breath, but he plowed on, trying to remember how easily Graystripe had swum this same channel.

Suddenly a swift current dragged him and Smallear off course. Fireheart flailed with his paws, feeling panic rise in his chest as he saw the gently sloping bank slip past and a steep wall of mud loom in its place. How would he climb out here, especially with Smallear? The elderly tom had stopped struggling now, and hung like a deadweight in Fireheart’s jaws. Only his rasping breaths in Fireheart’s ears showed that he was still alive, and might yet survive the crossing. Fireheart floundered in the water, trying to fight the current and keep Smallear’s muzzle above the water.

Without warning, a mottled head reached down from the bank and grabbed Smallear from him. It was Leopardfur, the RiverClan deputy! Scrabbling in the mud for a pawhold, she dragged Smallear out, dropped him on the ground, and reached down again for Fireheart. He felt her teeth sharp in his scruff as she hauled him up the slippery bank. He felt a wave of relief as his paws sank into dry ground.

“Is that everyone?” Leopardfur demanded.

Fireheart looked around him. RiverClan cats were weaving among the ThunderClan cats as they crouched, drenched and shocked on the pebbles. Graystripe was one of them.

“I—I think so,” Fireheart stammered. He could see Bluestar lying under some trailing willow branches. She looked small and frail with her soaked fur flattened against her scrawny flanks.

“What about that one?” Leopardfur pointed with her nose to the unmoving black-and-white shape on the far shore.

Fireheart turned to look. The ferns on the other side were burning now, sending sparks flying into the river and illuminating the trees with flickering light. “He’s dead,” Fireheart whispered.

Without a word Leopardfur slipped into the river and swam to the other side. With her golden fur flickering in the light from the flames, she snatched up Patchpelt’s body and paddled strongly back, her front paws churning through the black water. A clap of thunder exploded overhead, making Fireheart flinch, but the RiverClan deputy didn’t stop swimming.

“Fireheart!” Graystripe raced over to Fireheart and pressed himself against his friend, his flank warm and soft against Fireheart’s drenched body. “Are you okay?”

Fireheart nodded, dazed, as Leopardfur hauled Patchpelt’s body onto the shore. She laid it at Fireheart’s paws and meowed, “Come on. We’ll bury him back at camp.”

“The…the RiverClan camp?”

“Unless you prefer to return to your own,” answered Leopardfur coldly. She turned and led the way up the slope, away from the river and the flames. As the ThunderClan cats heaved themselves to their paws and began to follow, heavy drops of rain began to fall through the canopy above. Fireheart twitched his ear. Had the rain come soon enough for the burning forest? More exhausted than he could ever remember being, he watched Graystripe lift Patchpelt’s drenched body easily in his strong jaws. The rain began to fall more heavily, pounding the forest as Fireheart fell in behind the other cats, his paws stumbling over the smooth pebbles.