The Darkest Hour

“St o n e f u r, St o n e f u r,” she murmured. “What will I do without you?”

Firestar’s fur bristled with tension as he listened for the sound of approaching cats, but he forced himself to give Mistyfoot time to mourn. They could not take Stonefur’s body with them for the proper warrior’s vigil; this was Mistyfoot’s last farewell.

Stormpaw, who had been Stonefur’s apprentice, approached as well. He touched his nose to his mentor’s head before padding back to stand beside his father.

Firestar could not help remembering Bluestar, and how much she had loved her lost kits. Had she been here, he wondered, to lead her son to StarClan? She and Stonefur had both died bravely, their cruel deaths caused by Tigerstar’s evil ambition. Every hair on Firestar’s pelt pricked with his longing to confront the dark tabby warrior and make him pay for his crimes.

“Firestar, we have to go,” Graystripe hissed, the whites of his eyes bright in the half-light.

His words roused Mistyfoot. Before Firestar could reply, she raised her head, gave Stonefur one last, loving look, and padded over to where the others were waiting for her.

Firestar set a brisk pace back toward the river, feeling himself relax as the stench of the Bonehill and the scattered prey began to fade. Graystripe helped the two apprentices along, encouraging them with gentle nudges and mews. Mistyfoot kept up bravely, limping on paws cracked and sore after her imprisonment, while Ravenpaw stayed at the rear, his ears tilted back for the sounds of pursuit.

The night was silent except for the murmur of water, and by the time the river came in sight they had not encountered any other cats. Turning downstream toward the stepping-stones, Firestar dared to hope that they would escape undetected.

Then a distant yowling sounded through the reeds and the six cats froze in their tracks.

“The prisoners have escaped!”

Chapter 17

“Quick—the stepping-stones!” Firestar hissed.

Alone, the ThunderClan cats could have raced easily out of danger, but none of them would abandon the prisoners. Graystripe fell back to join Ravenpaw as rearguard, while Firestar tried to urge on the RiverClan cats.

“You’ll have to leave us!” Mistyfoot gasped. “There’s no sense in all of us being captured.”

“Never!” snarled Graystripe. “We’re all in this together.”

By now they were bounding alongside the river, the RiverClan cats stumbling in their efforts to keep up. Firestar could already see the ripples in the water where the current was broken by the stepping-stones. But the yowling behind them grew louder, and when he turned his head to draw in a rapid gulp of air he could taste the scent of ShadowClan.

“Great StarClan!” he whispered. “They’re catching up.”

None of the pursuing cats had appeared yet by the time they reached the stepping-stones. Firestar leaped onto the first stone, then the second, and gestured with his tail for Mistyfoot to follow.

“Hurry!” he urged.

Mistyfoot bent her hind legs and leaped, staggering as her paws hit the slippery surface, but managing to keep her balance. The two apprentices came next. Firestar stopped when he was halfway across and waited, the river water lapping his paws, while the other cats leaped out behind him.

Because the RiverClan cats were so weak they were agonizingly slow, bracing themselves for each leap. Mistyfoot reached him first, and Firestar edged to the side of the stone to let her go past. The two apprentices were still some way behind. Firestar’s claws scraped the rough stone in his impatience, though he tried to stay calm. When the first dark shapes of pursuing cats slipped out of the reeds he forced himself to say nothing. Stormpaw was just nerving himself to leap; Firestar locked his gaze with the younger cat’s. “Come on,” he mewed steadily. “You’re doing fine.”

But as her brother gathered himself, Featherpaw, a couple of stones behind him, spotted the ShadowClan warriors racing along the riverbank. “They’re coming!” she yowled.

Caught off balance, Stormpaw misjudged the distance and fell short. His forepaws landed on the stone, but his hindquarters splashed into the river. The current bubbled around him, dragging at his thick fur as he scrabbled to pull himself to safety.

“I’m slipping!” He gasped. “I can’t hold on!”

Firestar jumped back onto the previous stone, barely managing to balance in the space left by Stormpaw’s clawing forepaws. He fastened his teeth in the apprentice’s scruff just as the younger cat lost his grip and slid backward into the river. For a few heartbeats Firestar felt his own paws sliding on the smooth rock under Stormpaw’s weight and the force of the current.

Then he spotted Graystripe swimming up behind his son, paws thrusting strongly through the icy water. The gray warrior shoved his shoulder underneath Stormpaw and heaved him upward. Firestar managed to haul the apprentice out to crouch shivering on the rock.