The Darkest Hour

Firestar felt Graystripe stiffen beside him, and put out a warning paw for his friend not to give them away. Graystripe’s ears twitched but he stayed still and silent, watching.

The reeds parted again. This time Firestar knew at once the cat who stepped into the clearing, his fur sleek and his head raised proudly. It was Darkstripe. Traitor! Firestar thought, his belly clenching in anger.

More movement in the reeds heralded the arrival of another ShadowClan warrior who was shepherding two smaller cats, one a silver-gray tabby and the other with thick, gray fur. They were as thin as Stonefur, their steps unsteady as they staggered into the clearing. Huddling together in the shadow of the Bonehill, they looked around them with wide, scared eyes.

An icy chill gripped Firestar’s muscles. The two young cats were Graystripe’s kits, Featherpaw and Stormpaw.

Chapter 15

Graystripe growled deep in his thro a t and gathered himself to spring.

“No!” Firestar gasped, leaping on his friend before he could leave the shadow of the reeds. “If Tigerstar sees us, we’re crowfood!”

On Graystripe’s other side Ravenpaw grabbed him by one shoulder. “Firestar’s right,” he hissed. “What chance would we have against all these cats?”

Graystripe writhed desperately, as if he hadn’t heard. “Let me go!” he snarled. “I’ll flay that piece of fox dung! I’ll rip his heart out!”

“No!” Firestar repeated in an agonized whisper. “We’ll be slaughtered if we show ourselves now. We won’t leave your kits, Graystripe, I promise we won’t, but we’ve got to wait for the right moment to rescue them.”

Graystripe went on struggling for a moment longer, then subsided with a grunt of agreement. Firestar let him go, nodding to Ravenpaw to do the same.

“Listen,” he murmured. “Let’s find out what’s going on.”

While they had been holding Graystripe down, Tigerstar had begun to speak, his voice drowning the noise of their scuffle among the reeds.

“Cats of TigerClan,” he began, “you all know the hardships that we have to face. The cold of leaf-bare threatens us. Twolegs threaten us. The other two Clans in the forest, who have not yet realized the wisdom of joining with TigerClan, are a threat to us.”

Firestar’s tail-tip twitched in anger and he flashed a look at Graystripe. Tigerstar was the threat! All that ThunderClan and WindClan wanted was to get on with their lives in peace, according to the ancient traditions of StarClan and the warrior code.

But Graystripe’s burning gaze was fixed on his two kits, cowering at the base of the Bonehill; he was unaware of Firestar’s glance.

“Surrounded as we are by enemies,” Tigerstar went on, “we must be sure of the loyalty of our own warriors. There is no room in TigerClan for the halfhearted. No room for cats who might waver in battle, or worse still, turn on their own Clan mates. TigerClan will not tolerate traitors!”

Except the traitor who leads it, Firestar thought. Or Darkstripe,

who would have watched his own Clan be devoured by dogs.

The cats in the clearing broke out into yowls of agreement. Tigerstar allowed the clamor to continue for a moment before signaling with his tail for silence. The noise died and he began to speak again.

“Especially we will not tolerate the abomination of half-Clan cats. No loyal warrior would ever take a mate from another Clan, diluting the pure blood that our warrior ancestors decreed for us. Bluestar and Graystripe of ThunderClan both flouted the warrior code when they took mates from RiverClan. The kits of such a union, like the ones you see in front of you now, can never be trusted.”

He paused, and his deputy Blackfoot yowled out, “Filth! Filth!”

Darkstripe took up the cry, and a chorus of yowls and screeches echoed his words. This time Tigerstar let them fall quiet in their own time, gazing out over the cats below him with a look of calm satisfaction.

He and Blackfoot must have rehearsed all this, Firestar realized in horror.

He noticed that it was the ShadowClan warriors who yowled the loudest. The RiverClan cats joined in less enthusiastically; Firestar guessed they might not all fully agree with the ShadowClan leader, but they did not dare stay silent.

The two half-Clan apprentices flattened themselves close to the ground, as if they were afraid of being swept away in the gale of the Clan’s fury. Stonefur crouched over them as if he could protect them, gazing around with defiance in his eyes.

Where is Mistyfoot? Firestar wondered. Tigerstar knows she’s half-Clan too. What has he done with her?