The Darkest Hour

Glancing toward the RiverClan shore, Firestar saw Ravenpaw urging Featherpaw onto the next stone, getting his own paws wet to leave her space to stand on the driest part.

Behind them, the pursuing cats had reached the first stone. Blackfoot was in the lead, flanked by Jaggedtooth and three or four others—too many to fight, Firestar realized.

“Come on!” he yowled. “Hurry!” He nudged the shivering Stormpaw. “Keep going—follow Mistyfoot!”

Blackfoot crouched, ready to spring, his eyes fixed on the stepping-stone where Ravenpaw had put himself between Featherpaw and the ShadowClan warrior. Firestar’s belly clenched. The loner was brave, but his training days were far behind him and he would be no match for a seasoned warrior like Tigerstar’s deputy.

Graystripe began swimming back toward Ravenpaw. A wild screech split the air as the rest of the ShadowClan warriors spread along the bank in a menacing line.

“Keep going!” Firestar gasped to Mistyfoot. “Take Stormpaw with you. I’m going back.”

But before he could move, a fierce battle yowl went up from the forest on the ThunderClan side of the river. Firestar saw three shapes streaking out of the undergrowth: Cloudtail, with Sandstorm and Thornclaw just behind him.

“Thank StarClan—” he began, breaking off as Cloudtail leaped toward the river, eyes blazing and claws extended. He was heading straight for Mistyfoot, who was just jumping from the last stone onto the bank.

Firestar raced across the remaining stones to intercept the white warrior, barrelling into his side and knocking him off his paws. “Mouse-brain!” he snapped. “The enemy is back there.”

He jerked his head toward the middle of the river, where Ravenpaw and Graystripe were tussling with Blackfoot on the central stone. Stormpaw was nerving himself for the last leap onto the bank, while Featherpaw huddled two or three stones farther back. Sandstorm and Thornclaw launched themselves across the stones to face the ShadowClan warriors, the two apprentices cowering at the edge of their stones to let them pass.

Muttering “Sorry” to Mistyfoot, Cloudtail sprang after them. Firestar bunched his muscles to follow, but before he leaped he saw Blackfoot slip off the stone to be swept away in the current. He ducked briefly below the surface of the water, then reappeared swimming clumsily back toward the RiverClan side, his ears flat against his head. The three ThunderClan warriors stood crowded together on one stone, digging in their claws and growling fiercely at the remaining pursuers.

“You’ll come no farther if you want to stay alive,” snarled Sandstorm.

The ShadowClan warriors milled about uncertainly on the first two or three stones. Unused to the river, they were unsteady on their paws and clearly unwilling to join battle with the furious ThunderClan cats.

“Get back!” Blackfoot yowled as he clambered onto the bank, his fur streaming. “Let them escape; they’re only half-Clan crowfood.”

His warriors seemed happy to obey, and within moments all the ShadowClan cats had vanished into the reeds.

Firestar concentrated on helping the two apprentices finish crossing. Graystripe and Ravenpaw followed closely behind. Checking his cats for wounds, Firestar saw that Graystripe had lost a clump of fur from one shoulder, and Ravenpaw’s left ear was bleeding, but otherwise they seemed unhurt.

“Well done, all of you,” he meowed, turning to the other ThunderClan warriors. “I was never so glad to see any cats as when you three came out of the forest. What brought you her e?”

“You did,” Cloudtail panted. “You ordered extra patrols to watch the border. Lucky for you that we came along w h en we did.”

Firestar felt his legs go weak with relief. StarClan had sent the patrol at just the right moment. “Okay,” he meowed, “we’d better get back to camp. These three cats need to rest. Ravenpaw, you’d better come too and let Cinderpelt look at that ear.”

Firestar stayed at the rear in case the ShadowClan warriors decided to cross the river after all, but behind them every thing was quiet. After a few moments, Sandstorm dropped back to join him.

“What happened?” she asked. “What are these RiverClan cats doing here?”

Firestar paused to give her ear a quick lick. “They were prisoners,” he explained. “If we’d left them there, Tigerstar would have killed them.”

Sandstorm turned her green gaze on him, horrified. “Why?”

“Because their parents came from different Clans,” Firestar explained. “Tigerstar says half-Clan cats aren’t fit to live in any Clan.”

“But his own kits are half-Clan!” Sandstorm protested.

Firestar shook his head. “No, because Tigerstar was a ThunderClan cat when they were born. At least, that would be his excuse. You don’t think that the great Tigerstar would father anything but pure-blooded kits, do you?”

The shock and disgust in Sandstorm’s eyes deepened, then turned to sympathy as she looked at the RiverClan cats. “Poor things,” she murmured. “Will you let them stay in ThunderClan?”

Firestar nodded. “What else can we do?”