River Of Fire

Instantly Twigpaw’s pelt grew hot with shame. Even though she hadn’t put her ungenerous thoughts into words, her face must have given her away. If Finpaw wasn’t upset, when the new warriors were his littermates, then she had no business griping either.

I chose this, she reminded herself. I will be a ThunderClan warrior, one day.

“It’s fine,” she murmured, giving Finpaw a grateful lick around the ear.

Meanwhile Mistystar had come forward, balancing gracefully on the end of a branch, to give news of RiverClan.

“We thank you all for the help you gave us in escaping the fire,” she meowed, “and for the shelter you offered when our camp was destroyed. We are now ready to return and take part in the full life of the Clans, and we’ll be grateful for any help you can give us in rebuilding our camp.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Twigpaw exclaimed. “They really are coming back for good.”

Sparkpelt let out a skeptical snort; Twigpaw could tell that her mentor didn’t share her excitement. Then Crowfeather, the WindClan deputy, rose to his paws from where he sat on the oak roots with the other deputies.

“That’s all very well, Mistystar,” he began, his voice harsh, and an irritated look in his eyes. “But it’s beginning to feel like you’re using the other Clans. You wanted nothing to do with us until we came and saved your tails, and now that you need help, you want to be a Clan again.”

“Yeah, what a coincidence!” Scorchfur called out from SkyClan.

Mistystar didn’t seem angry at Crowfeather’s challenge. Instead she gave him a respectful dip of her head. “There’s some truth in what you say, Crowfeather,” she meowed. “The timing is awkward, I admit. But before the fire we had already made the decision to rejoin the rest of you.”

“Yeah, right!” Sparkpelt muttered.

Twigpaw cast an impatient glance at her mentor. There’s too much arguing at this Gathering already, she thought. You don’t have to make it worse!

“After the damage inflicted on us by Darktail and his Kin, we needed time to turn inward and strengthen ourselves,” Mistystar continued, apparently having not heard Sparkpelt’s comment, or having decided to ignore it. “But now we’re ready to contribute again. And the time alone has reminded us of how important it is to be part of something bigger than one Clan.”

The RiverClan leader’s measured words evidently impressed Crowfeather, who gave her a nod and sat down again. But the hostile muttering still went on.

“What if we don’t want you back?” a former ShadowClan cat called out, his words followed by a scattered chorus of agreement.

Twigpaw could understand why some cats were annoyed by RiverClan’s withdrawal and sudden return, but she thought it was mouse-brained even to consider not letting them back in.

StarClan wants there to be five Clans—every cat knows that, she thought. So why can’t the other Clans let it go?

Bramblestar stepped forward again and raised his tail for silence, but the unrest in the clearing didn’t die down. Twigpaw glanced up at the moon, half expecting StarClan to show their anger by covering it with cloud, but it still sailed serenely above the trees.

Then the angry murmuring turned to surprise; Twigpaw turned her head to see Tree rising to his paws. “The timing is awkward,” he began, completely confident in addressing the whole Gathering of cats, some of whom hardly knew him. “But would the rest of you rather not have RiverClan back at all? Doesn’t StarClan want all the Clans to work together? And someday, when the other Clans need them, RiverClan will return the favor.”

“We will indeed,” Mistystar agreed.

Many of the cats had fallen silent; Twigpaw couldn’t tell whether they saw sense in what Tree said, or whether they were too shocked by his sudden intervention to respond.

But there were still others who weren’t impressed at all.

“Who is this cat?” Breezepelt of WindClan demanded. “Wasn’t he a rogue?”

“He was. And he isn’t even a real Clan cat now!” Thornclaw added. “Who is he to tell us what to do?”

Twigpaw saw Violetshine leap to her paws as if she was about to plunge into the argument, but before she could speak, Leafstar raised her voice from her place in the Great Oak.

“Tree is not exactly a rogue,” she explained, “or even a loner. He has been living with SkyClan for more than a moon now. Remember how he helped ShadowClan’s cats speak with their dead Clanmates?” She took a deep breath, her gaze raking around the clearing, and the remaining cats grew quiet under her authority.

“Now I have more news. Tree and I have discussed his staying with us in SkyClan, and creating a new Clan role,” she continued. “He will be a mediator—just as the medicine cats cure wounds and illnesses, Tree’s job will be to cure disagreements.”

The brief silence in the clearing broke up again into confused questioning.