Rising Storm

Tallstar’s eyes glittered back at him; then he gave a tiny nod. “Spoken like a true warrior. Having traveled with you, I wasn’t surprised when Bluestar made you her deputy.” The WindClan leader glanced around the clearing and added, “There are those who thought such a young cat would never carry off such a great responsibility. I was not among them.”

Fireheart was taken aback. He hadn’t expected such a compliment from the leader of WindClan. He stifled a delighted purr, and nodded his thanks.

“Where is Bluestar?” asked Tallstar. “I can’t see her among your cats.” His voice was casual but his eyes betrayed a keen interest.

“She’s not feeling well enough to travel yet,” Fireheart answered lightly.

“Was she injured in the fire?”

“Nothing she won’t recover from,” Fireheart meowed, hoping with all his heart that he was telling the truth.

Beside him, Onewhisker looked up sharply. Fireheart followed his gaze to the slope on the other side of the valley. Three ShadowClan cats were charging into the clearing, Runningnose at the head. Fireheart felt a glimmer of relief as he recognized one of the two warriors behind the gray-and-white medicine cat. It was Littlecloud, clearly recovered from the sickness—thanks to Cinderpelt.

The other Clan cats backed away from the ShadowClan warriors as they skidded to a halt in front of the Great Rock. News of their disease had obviously spread through the forest.

“It’s all right,” Runningnose meowed, panting, as if he could read their minds. “ShadowClan is free of the sickness. I have been sent ahead to tell you to wait before you begin the meeting. ShadowClan’s leader is on his way.”

“What makes Nightstar so late?” called Tallstar from Fireheart’s side.

“Nightstar is dead,” answered Runningnose bluntly.

A stunned ripple spread through the other cats like a breeze through trees, and Fireheart blinked. How could the ShadowClan leader be dead? He had only recently received his nine lives. What a terrible sickness! No wonder Littlecloud and Whitethroat had been so afraid to return to their camp.

“Is Cinderfur coming instead?” Whitestorm called, referring to the ShadowClan deputy.

Runningnose looked at his paws. “Cinderfur was one of the first to die of the sickness.”

“Then who is your new leader?” demanded Crookedstar, emerging from the shadows on the other side of the Great Rock.

Runningnose glanced at the RiverClan leader. “You’ll see for yourselves soon enough,” he promised. “He’ll be here shortly.”

“Excuse me,” Fireheart murmured to Tallstar and Onewhisker. “There is something I must share with Runningnose.”

Fireheart padded to where the ShadowClan medicine cat stood, surrounded by warriors and apprentices, all anxious to discover who ShadowClan’s new leader was. He wondered how the old cat would react to hearing about Yellowfang’s death. Runningnose had seen so much death lately that perhaps it wouldn’t mean much to him anymore, but Fireheart felt he should break it to him privately, before he made an announcement from the Great Rock. After all, Yellowfang had trained Runningnose when she had been ShadowClan’s medicine cat. The bond between the two cats must once have been very close, if only for the short time before Brokentail drove Yellowfang out of her Clan.

Fireheart signaled with his tail to the ShadowClan medicine cat. Runningnose looked relieved to be leaving the circle of inquiring faces as he followed Fireheart to a quieter spot beneath one of the oaks. “What is it?” he asked.

“Yellowfang’s dead,” Fireheart meowed gently, feeling a fresh thorn of sorrow drive itself into his heart.

Runningnose’s eyes clouded with grief. The gray-and-white tom bowed his head as Fireheart went on: “She died trying to save a Clanmate from the fire. StarClan will honor her bravery.”

Runningnose didn’t reply, just swung his head slowly from side to side. Fireheart felt his own throat tighten with sadness, but he couldn’t afford to let grief overwhelm him here. He touched the tom’s head with his nose and padded quickly away.

The rest of the cats were beginning to weave anxiously around one another, their mews growing louder. “We can’t wait any longer!” Fireheart heard a RiverClan warrior mutter to his neighbor. “The moon will be setting soon.”

“If this new leader is going to be late, that’s his problem,” Mousefur agreed. Fireheart knew the real reason for her keenness to get on with the meeting and return to camp. With Tigerclaw loose in the forest, none of the Clans were safe.

He saw a flash of white fur at the center of the clearing as Tallstar leaped onto the Great Rock. He had obviously decided to start the meeting without ShadowClan’s leader. Crookedstar started toward the rock. Fireheart braced himself, ready for his first Gathering at the head of his Clan, and desperate to warn the other cats about the threat that lurked in the woods.