The Darkest Hour

“What is there to decide?” snarled Sandstorm. The light of battle shone in her green eyes. “We fight, of course—until we’ve driven that piece of crowfood out of the forest for good.”

Firestar nodded. Though he said nothing, he couldn’t help thinking of Bluestar’s prophecy during his dream at the Moonstone.

Four will become two. Lion and Tiger will meet in battle.

“Tiger” must mean the new TigerClan, but who or what is “Lion”? Firestar pushed the question aside as he remembered Bluestar’s ominous parting words.

Blood will rule the forest.

Chapter 13

The squall was soon over. Firestar led his cats home through a forest where every twig and fern dripped water under a clearing sky. Silverpelt glittered brightly, and Firestar raised his eyes to utter a silent prayer: Great StarClan, show me what to do.

He began to worry about whether Tigerstar had sent warriors to attack the camp while Firestar and the others were away. It would be one way to weaken ThunderClan so that Firestar had no choice but to ally his surviving cats with TigerClan. Relief flooded over him as he emerged from the gorse tunnel to see that everything was peaceful.

Whitestorm got up from sentry duty outside the warriors’ den and padded over. “You’re back early. I wondered if those stormclouds would cover the moon.”

“Yes, but it was worse than that,” Firestar replied.

“Worse?” Whitestorm’s eyes widened in astonishment as Firestar told him what had happened at the Gathering just before thunder and lightning prevented his revealing words. More cats joined them, and Firestar was aware of shocked mews as his Clan learned what Tigerstar was planning.

“When the storm broke,” Firestar finished, “Tigerstar said it was a sign from StarClan that he had their favor. He and Leopardstar left, so the Gathering broke up.”

“It might well have been a sign,” mewed Whitestorm thoughtfully. “But one that shows StarClan are angry with Tigerstar.”

“Cinderpelt, what do you think?” Firestar asked the medicine cat, who had listened to the story with deep foreboding in her blue eyes.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “If it was a sign, it would mean StarClan stopped you from telling the truth about Tigerstar, and I find that hard to believe.” She shrugged. “There are times when a storm is just a storm.”

“It was an unlucky one for ThunderClan, then,” muttered Longtail.

“I wish I’d been there,” Cloudtail growled. “I’d have torn Tigerstar’s throat out. No more problem.”

“In that case, it’s a good thing you weren’t there,” Firestar retorted. “Attacking a Clan leader at a Gathering? That would have made StarClan angry.”

Cloudtail narrowed his eyes at Firestar, the challenge clear in his blue gaze. “Why don’t StarClan do something to help us, then, if they’re so powerful?”

“Maybe they will,” Brightheart suggested gently.

“So what are we going to do?” asked Mousefur. She was shifting from paw to paw as if she wanted to race out of camp and confront her enemies right away. “You’re not thinking of joining this…TigerClan, are you?”

“Never,” Firestar assured her. “But we need time to think, and rest.” He yawned and stretched. “For now, we’ll need extra patrols. Any volunteers to go out at dawn?”

“I will,” Mousefur offered instantly.

“Thanks,” meowed Firestar. “Keep a lookout along the border with ShadowClan. And if you come across any of Tigerstar’s warriors, you know what to do.”

“Oh, yes.” Cloudtail lashed his tail eagerly. “I’ll come with you, Mousefur. I could do with some ShadowClan fur to line my nest.”

Firestar didn’t try to check the young warrior’s hostility. No cat could doubt Cloudtail’s loyalty to ThunderClan, however scornful he was about StarClan and the warrior code.

Whitestorm named Brackenfur and Thornclaw to join the patrol as well, and all four cats padded off to get some rest before dawn. One by one, the other Clan cats headed for their dens. Firestar was aware of their shock, and the fear they did not quite succeed in hiding.

Eventually he was left alone with only Cinderpelt by his side. He let out a long sigh. “Will there ever be any end to this?” he murmured.

Cinderpelt pressed her muzzle comfortingly against his. “I don’t know. It’s in the paws of StarClan.” She narrowed her eyes. “But sometimes I don’t believe there’ll be any peace in the forest until Tigerstar is dead.”

“Right,” Firestar meowed. “Attack me.”

A few foxlengths away, Bramblepaw crouched on the floor of the hollow. Firestar waited as the apprentice began to creep toward him, his amber eyes darting from side to side as if he was choosing the best place to strike.