The Darkest Hour

“About me and Stonefur?” Mistyfoot replied, guessing his thoughts. She hesitated. “Stonefur told the Clan the truth about Bluestar,” she meowed at last. “Some of them didn’t like it. One or two of them won’t talk to us at all now, and most of them are a bit uneasy with us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Firestar mewed. “What about Leopardstar? Has she said anything?”

“I could tell she wasn’t pleased. She supported us in front of the Clan, but I think she has an eye on us all the same, to make sure we’re still loyal.”

“Of course you’re loyal!” Firestar exclaimed.

“Yes, and the rest of the Clan will realize it sooner or later. Besides…” Mistyfoot paused again, and then went on. “That isn’t the worst of our problems.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tigerstar.” Mistyfoot shivered. “He visits Leopardstar regularly, and I can’t work out why. I’m sure they’re planning something.”

A jolt of fear shot through Firestar. “Planning what?”

Mistyfoot twitched her ears. “I’ve no idea. Leopardstar hasn’t told Stonefur, even though he’s her deputy. But there are a couple of ShadowClan warriors stationed permanently in our camp.”

“What? That shouldn’t happen! It must be against the warrior code!”

Mistyfoot shrugged, looking defeated. “Try telling that to Leopardstar.”

“But what are they doing there?”

“Leopardstar says that they’re staying with us so the Clans can exchange training methods and fighting techniques, but I don’t see much sign of it. All they do is watch… It’s like they’re learning all about us, all our secrets and weaknesses.” Mistyfoot’s fur bristled as if she saw her enemies in front of her. “That’s why I came over here, to get away from them for a bit.”

“That’s terrible,” Firestar meowed. “What is Leopardstar thinking?”

“You want my opinion? She wants to do the best for her Clan and she thinks Tigerstar is the strongest leader in the forest, so she’s set out to be his ally.”

“I’m not sure Tigerstar has allies,” Firestar warned her. “Only followers.”

Mistyfoot nodded. “I know.” She sat down, licked one paw, and drew it two or three times over her ear.

Firestar wondered if she was regretting saying so much to a warrior of another Clan. “How is the prey running?” he asked, hoping to distract her. “At least the river hasn’t frozen yet.”

“Not yet. Prey’s scarce, but that’s nothing new.” Mistyfoot flicked her ears dismissively. “It’s leaf-bare, after all. And those two warriors of Tigerclaw’s don’t help,” she added. “They sit there in camp stuffing their faces, but they never bring back much fresh-kill.”

She broke off at the sound of Graystripe’s voice yowling her name. Firestar turned to see his friend bounding down the bank toward them with Thornclaw just behind him.

“Hi, Mistyfoot,” panted Graystripe as he came up. “How are Featherpaw and Stormpaw?”

“They’re fine, Graystripe,” replied Mistyfoot, with a purr of welcome for her former Clan mate. Though Graystripe’s stay in RiverClan had been short, the two cats had become good friends, and Mistyfoot was always willing to give Graystripe news of his kits. “Featherpaw is turning into a great fighter. ThunderClan will have to watch out when she’s made a warrior.”

Graystripe let out a purr. “Well, she couldn’t have a better mentor.”

Firestar backed away while Graystripe and Mistyfoot discussed the two apprentices. Thornclaw padded up to him and meowed, “We’ve renewed the scent markings, Firestar. There’s no fresh RiverClan scent around the rocks.”

“That’s good,” Firestar responded, though his thoughts were only half on what the young warrior was telling him. Mistyfoot’s news deeply disturbed him. It sounded as if RiverClan and ShadowClan were allied more closely than ever before. And if Tigerstar decided to go to war, ThunderClan would be trapped between them.

Oh, StarClan, Firestar murmured to himself. Show me what I should do now.

After his talk with Mistyfoot, Firestar ordered ex t r a patrols, but no cat reported anything unusual. The days slipped past peacefully until the time of the next Gathering approached.

As the sun went down behind the thorn hedge, Firestar sat with Whitestorm beside the nettle patch, sharing fresh-kill before the journey.

“Who will you take to the Gathering?” the white warrior asked.

Firestar swallowed a mouthful of squirrel. “Not you, I think,” he replied. “I’m certain Tigerstar is going to make a move of some sort, and I want you to guard the camp. I’ll leave you some strong warriors, too.”

“I think you’re right.” Whitestorm swiped his tongue around his mouth as he finished his vole. “Tigerstar may have failed with the dog pack but he’s bound to try something else.”

“I’ll take Fernpaw and Ashpaw,” Firestar decided. “And Thornclaw. He’ll be looking forward to his first Gathering as a warrior. And Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Frostfur. That should leave you with enough fighting strength if Tigerstar sends warriors to attack.”

“You think he’ll break the truce?” inquired Whitestorm.