The Darkest Hour

Firestar flicked his ears. “What do you think? He led the dog pack to us—do you think he’d bother about a little thing like ignoring the will of StarClan?”

“StarClan?” Whitestorm snorted. “Tigerstar behaves as if he’s never heard of StarClan.” He paused, and then asked, “What about the two young apprentices—Tigerstar’s kits? Do you want to take them with you?”

Firestar shook his head. “Not in a hundred moons. You know what’s going to happen, don’t you? Tigerstar wants those kits. At the last Gathering, he gave Bluestar one moon to decide whether to hand them over. That time’s up now. If Bramblepaw and Tawnypaw are there, I wouldn’t put it past Tigerstar to try taking them from the Gathering.”

“Nor would I.” Whitestorm rumbled in agreement. “You think we should keep them, then?”

Firestar was startled. “Don’t you?” He had assumed that ThunderClan would insist on their right to keep the two apprentices, but if his deputy thought that they should give the young cats to their father, Firestar would consider his opinion carefully.

But Whitestorm was nodding. “There’s no question that they’re ThunderClan kits. Their mother is ThunderClan, and so was their father at the time they were born. Tigerstar going to ShadowClan doesn’t alter that. But if we want to keep them, we’ll have to fight for them.”

“T h en we fight,” Firestar meowed determined l y. “Besides,” he added, “if we meekly hand them over, Tigerstar will see that as a sign of weakness. He’d be making more demands before you could say ‘mouse.’”

“True.”

Firestar took another bite of squirrel, his eyes narrowing as his thoughts moved to the approaching Gathering. “You know, Whitestorm,” he began, “Tigerstar won’t have it all his own way. I’ve got news for the Gathering, too. How do you think the other Clans will react when I tell them how Tigerstar tried to use the dog pack to destroy us? Not even Broken tail was as ruthless as that. Even Tigerstar’s own Clan will turn against him. They might even drive him from the forest, and then we’ll be rid of him.”

Whitestorm’s ears twitched; to Firestar’s surprise the white warrior didn’t look as optimistic as he had expected. “Maybe,” he meowed, “but don’t be surprised if it doesn’t work out like that.”

Firestar stared at him. “You think the warrior code allows a cat to have another Clan torn apart by dogs?”

“No, of course not. But Tigerstar could always deny it. What proof do we have?”

Firestar thought seriously about what his deputy was saying. One cat—Longtail—had seen Tigerstar feed a rabbit to the pack. Several of the Clan had detected Tigerstar’s scent on the trail of rabbits. And Tigerstar had attacked Firestar himself close to the gorge, to make sure that the dog pack caught him and pulled him down. Only Bluestar’s sudden appearance had saved him.

True, Mistyfoot and Stonefur had witnessed Tigerstar’s presence by the river that day, but they were already having problems within their own Clan. If they spoke up against Tigerstar their Clan mates might not believe them. It would be wrong, Firestar realized, to add to their troubles.

And all the rest of his evidence rested on the word of ThunderClan cats alone. Both WindClan and RiverClan knew there had been a serious rift between Tigerstar and his birth Clan that had driven the former deputy to lea v e. Tigerstar could try to make it seem as if the ThunderClan cats were lying.

“Then we’ll see who they believe,” Firestar insisted angrily. “Not every cat thinks that Tigerstar is StarClan’s gift to the forest. He won’t have it all his own way.”

“Let’s hope not.” Whitestorm got to his paws and stretched. “You’re going to have a lively time tonight, Firestar. I’ll go and tell the warriors you’ve chosen to be ready.”

As he padded away, Firestar crouched down beside the nettles and finished his squirrel. There was going to be trouble at this Gathering. Tigerstar was certain to claim his kits again, and Firestar suspected that he would take this opportunity to reveal Bluestar’s secret as well and denounce Mistyfoot and Stonefur as half-Clan cats.

But I’ve got plenty to say, too, he thought, pushing aside the doubts Whitestorm had raised. When I’ve finished, no cat in the forest—not even his own Clan—will trust Tigerstar again.

Chapter 12

Firestar paused at the top of the hollow before leading his cats down to the Gathering. The night was still. Clouds were building up on the horizon, so that Firestar had begun to wonder if StarClan was going to hide the moon to show that it was not their will for the Gathering to take place.

But for now the moon rose high above the clouds, and the scent of cats drifted up to Firestar from the hollow below.

“Only WindClan so far,” murmured Graystripe, who was crouched at Firestar’s shoulder. “What’s keeping the others?”