Firestar's Quest

  “We’re coming to the edge of ShadowClan territory,” Deerleap mewed. “Can you smell our scent markers?”

  Yellowpaw sniffed and nodded. She felt proud that the ShadowClan scent was so strong. That warns other Clans not to mess with us!

  “Over in that direction,” Deerleap went on, angling her ears toward the ominous shapes, “is Twolegplace. We don’t go there. It’s a place for dogs and kittypets, not warriors. Those are the dens where Twolegs live.”

  Yellowpaw gazed at the unnaturally straight walls with square holes dotted across their sides, some high up and some closer to the ground. Low wooden barriers surrounded each den, rather like the thorns that surrounded ShadowClan’s camp. As Yellowpaw watched, a kittypet appeared, balancing carefully on the top of the wooden wall before jumping down to the other side.

  “That cat was wearing something around its neck,” she observed.

  Deerleap nodded. “A collar. Most kittypets have them. It signifies that they belong to Twolegs, and can never be free. Just be thankful you’ll never have to wear one.”

  Yellowpaw watched for a little longer, but the kittypet didn’t reappear. She wondered what it would be like to live in the Twolegplace. It looked cold and hard and empty, and she was glad when Deerleap moved on again, through another belt of woodland where pines were mixed with other trees. The bare branches creaked over Yellowpaw’s head.

  Yellowpaw soon became aware of an acrid stench in the air, and a dull roaring that grew and died away again. “Is that thunder?” she mewed.

  “You’ll see what it is in a few heartbeats,” Deerleap told her.

  When Yellowpaw came to the edge of the trees she stumbled to a halt. In front of her lay a narrow stretch of ground that led away in both directions as far as she could see. The snow that lay upon it had been churned up in straight lines, leaving dirty brown ridges. Underneath, Yellowpaw could make out a hard, black surface. The acrid stench rose from it in waves, smothering all the other scents of the forest.

  “What’s that?” Yellowpaw gasped. She stretched out a paw to touch the surface.

  Immediately Deerleap flicked her tail in front of Yellowpaw. “Keep back,” she warned.

  At the same moment the weird roaring sound began again. Yellowpaw tensed as a small creature appeared at the far end of the path; it grew bigger as the roaring grew louder. Soon she could make it out more clearly: It was an unnatural glittering scarlet, and it had round black paws that seemed to eat up the ground. Heartbeats later it swept past, spattering Yellowpaw with dirty, half-melted snow. For a moment its bellowing and vile reek filled the air; then it was gone, dwindling into the distance as the sound died away.

  “It didn’t spot us!” Yellowpaw mewed in relief.

  “Mostly they don’t,” Deerleap responded. “They keep to the Thunderpath, and don’t bother us provided we stay away from it. But cats have died trying to cross, so don’t even think about it.”

  “That’s the Thunderpath?” Yellowpaw asked. “Then that must have been a monster! Brackenfoot told us about them when we were in the nursery. He said the monsters have Twolegs in their bellies, but I thought that was just a tale for kits.”

  “No, it’s true,” Deerleap meowed.

  “Those things eat Twolegs?”

  “Not exactly.” Deerleap sounded puzzled. “The Twolegs get out of them again, and they seem okay. I don’t know what it’s all about, but then, Twolegs are strange.”

  The stink of the monster was dying away, and as she tasted the air Yellowpaw could pick up another scent she didn’t recognize. It was the scent of cats, but harsher than the warm, comforting ShadowClan scent she was used to.

  “What’s that yucky smell?”

  “That’s ThunderClan,” Deerleap explained, waving her tail toward the trees on the other side of the Thunderpath. “Their territory is over there.”

  “Really?” The scent marks seemed so close; Yellowpaw imagined a patrol of hostile ThunderClan cats charging across the Thunderpath, invading her territory. Her neck fur started to bristle and she dug her claws into the ground.

  They’d better not try it!

  But there was no movement among the trees on the opposite side of the Thunderpath, nothing to suggest an enemy patrol was lurking there. Feeling slightly disappointed, Yellowpaw turned away.

  “Where do we go next?”

  “Follow me.” Deerleap led the way alongside the Thunderpath and stopped at a point where the ground fell away into a deep cleft that became a tunnel leading into darkness. The sides were lined with squared-off stones.

  “Did Twolegs make that?” Yellowpaw mewed.

  “They did.” Deerleap sounded pleased and a little surprised that Yellowpaw had guessed right. “Don’t ask me why. It leads under the Thunderpath and up on the other side.”

  “Into ThunderClan territory? They could come right through it and attack us!”

  “No, it’s still our territory on the other side, all the way to the hollow at Fourtrees. It’s the way we go for Gatherings.”

  Yellowpaw’s paws tingled. Now that I’m an apprentice, I’ll get to go to Gatherings! When she was three moons old, she had begged and begged to go to a Gathering. Silverflame had promised to tell her everything that happened, and the day after, she had kept her promise.

  She made it sound so exciting … I hope she’ll be better by the next full moon, so we can go together.

  She was dragged abruptly out of her memories as Deerleap flicked her on the shoulder with her tail-tip. “Wake up!” her mentor chided. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”

  They walked on, sticking close to the Thunderpath with the Twoleg dens fading into the trees behind them. “Over there,” Deerleap continued, “is another tunnel. That one leads straight into WindClan territory. What do you think that means?”

  “Trouble!” Yellowpaw exclaimed.

  “Right. So what should we do about it?”

  “Patrol really carefully?” Yellowpaw suggested. “And … er … put really strong scent markers around our end?”

  Deerleap nodded. “Exactly. Good thinking, Yellowpaw.”

  A few fox-lengths farther on, Yellowpaw spotted Rowanpaw trotting toward them with her mentor, Finchflight.

  Rowanpaw waved her tail. “Isn’t this great?” she called. “Our territory is awesome!”

  Yellowpaw mewed agreement, but there wasn’t time to stop and chat. Deerleap was forging ahead, and Yellowpaw had to scurry to keep up. By now the sun was starting to go down, staining the snow as red as blood. Shadows began to gather under the trees, and the monsters that swept past on the Thunderpath had glaring yellow eyes that cut through the darkness.

  Eventually Deerleap veered away from the Thunderpath and headed back to the trees. Darker shadows loomed ahead, and Yellowpaw tried to hide her nervousness as Deerleap plunged into them. Finally her mentor stopped.

  “What can you smell?” she asked.

  Yellowpaw parted her jaws and tasted the air. “Very strong ShadowClan scent,” she reported. “Are we near the border again?”

  “We are. But is there anything else?”

  Yellowpaw took in another breath, trying to distinguish other scents beneath the overpowering scent of ShadowClan.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Something really nasty! Is it another Clan?”

  “No, that’s the Carrionplace.” Deerleap flicked her tail toward the shadows.

  Peering more closely, Yellowpaw made out huge heaps of evil-smelling stuff. Weird shapes that gleamed in the half-light poked out of a mountain of sludge and debris. A shiny fence, like a thick, regular cobweb, surrounded them. “What’s that stuff?” she mewed. “How did it get there?”

  “Twolegs bring it in yellow monsters,” Deerleap replied with a look of disgust. “It’s Twoleg crow-food. And before you ask, I don’t know why they dump it there.”

  “Yuck!” Yellowpaw passed her tongue around her jaws. “I can almost taste it from here.”

  “Stay away from it,” Deerl
eap warned her. “More rats than you can imagine live in those heaps, and even experienced warriors think twice before messing with them.”

  “There’s no way I’d want to go there,” Yellowpaw assured her. She was happy to leave the Carrionplace behind and head back into the forest. Night had fallen, and the first warriors of StarClan were appearing in the sky. The snow gleamed eerily beneath the trees.

  “What’s over there?” Yellowpaw curled her tail to where the pine trees stretched on and on until they melted into shadow.

  “More forest,” Deerleap replied. “No cats go that way. We have enough territory without it.”

  Yellowpaw felt a stab of relief that they didn’t have to go any farther. Her paws were frozen and starting to feel sore. I’ve never walked so far, she thought.

  “We’re almost back at the camp,” Deerleap announced. “You can pick out a piece of fresh-kill and then find yourself a nest in the apprentices’ den.”

  Yellowpaw blinked; she hadn’t considered that she wouldn’t be sleeping in the nursery anymore, and she wondered if Raggedpaw and Scorchpaw would welcome her and her littermates. But she pushed that thought to the back of her mind. There was something more important that she had to do first.

  I need to know how Silverflame is.

  She followed Deerleap through the thorn tunnel and into the clearing.

  “Did you enjoy seeing the territory?” Deerleap prompted.

  “Yes, it was great, thanks,” Yellowpaw responded, her paws itching to carry her toward the elders’ den.

  “Off with you, then.” Deerleap flicked her ears. “I’ll see you at dawn tomorrow. We’ll start your training with hunting practice.”

  Yellowpaw knew she should feel excited about that, but her anxiety about Silverflame was growing stronger with every heartbeat. She ducked her head to her mentor and bounded across the clearing to the elders’ den. Just as she reached it, Brightflower emerged.

  “How is Silverflame?” Yellowpaw demanded.

  “Growing weaker,” Brightflower replied. Her face was solemn. “Be brave, little one. We have to accept that it’s time for her to walk with StarClan.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “No!” Yellowpaw gasped. “She can’t leave us!”

  “I’m sorry, but she has to.” Brightflower bent her head to touch Yellowpaw’s ear with her nose.

  Yellowpaw could see the desperate anxiety in Brightflower’s eyes. I know how I’d feel if Brightflower was dying. She must feel the same now that it’s her mother who’s going to join StarClan.

  “I want to see her!” she choked out.

  Brightflower nodded. “You can, but you must be very quiet.” She stepped back and allowed Yellowpaw to slide underneath the branches into the elders’ den.

  Silverflame was lying on her side, her legs splayed out as if she were running. Her eyes were half-closed and her chest heaved with rasping breaths. Sagewhisker crouched over her while Littlebird and Lizardfang watched from the corner, their eyes gleaming in the darkness.

  Yellowpaw felt as though her pelt were on fire as she drew closer to the old, sick cat. She reeled back, blinking. “She’s so thirsty!” she whispered to Sagewhisker. “Why don’t you give her something to drink? Why aren’t you treating her pain?”

  Sagewhisker looked up, her eyes full of grief. “There’s nothing more I can do,” she murmured.

  “There must be!” Yellowpaw wailed.

  “Yellowpaw.” Littlebird rose to her paws and gave Yellowpaw a gentle nudge. “Come with me.”

  “No!” Yellowpaw felt as if her whole world was full of pain and her grief for Silverflame. “I want to stay with her.”

  “You can’t help her now,” Littlebird mewed softly. “Come away.”

  Yellowpaw let herself be urged toward the entrance. Before she ducked under the branches, she looked back. “Good-bye, Silverflame,” she whispered.

  There was no sign that Silverflame had heard her. She drew a breath that rattled in her throat. As Yellowpaw climbed out of the den, she strained her ears for the next breath. It didn’t come.

  “She’s dead, isn’t she?” Yellowpaw whispered.

  Littlebird nodded. “She hunts with StarClan now.”

  Yellowpaw dug her claws into the ground. “She shouldn’t be dead. Why didn’t Sagewhisker save her?”

  “It wasn’t—”

  Yellowpaw cut off Littlebird’s words with a yowl of rage. “She should have saved her! What good is a medicine cat if she can’t do that?”

  “Come for a walk with me,” Littlebird meowed gently.

  “Yes, go with Littlebird.” Brightflower, who had waited outside the den, touched her nose to Yellowpaw’s ear.

  Her eyes blurred by sadness, Yellowpaw followed the small ginger tabby out of the camp. She realized that Littlebird was heading for the marshes Deerleap had shown her earlier. It felt as though the tour of the territory had happened in another life.

  “Medicine cats can only do their best with the knowledge that they have,” Littlebird told her. “StarClan wanted Silverflame to walk with them. Look,” she added, pausing beside a shrub with a few pale green leaves clinging to its spindly branches, “there’s the juniper bush that Sagewhisker used to help Silverflame’s pain. And in newleaf there’s also coltsfoot for shortness of breath—”

  “But none of it did any good,” Yellowpaw snarled. “Sagewhisker should have found something better.” She lashed her tail. “What’s the use of being a medicine cat if you can’t heal your Clanmates?”

  “Death is part of life,” Littlebird meowed, resting her tail on Yellowpaw’s shoulder. “Every good warrior goes to StarClan, and that’s a glorious place to end up.” She raised one paw and pointed at a star that was shining above their heads. “Look, Silverflame is watching over us now.”

  “But I want her back in the Clan,” Yellowpaw whispered. The star was too far away to mean anything, and how could any cat know that it was Silverflame?

  “Every cat has to leave sometime,” Littlebird murmured. “Until then, all we can do is try our hardest to be the best for our Clan.”

  As leaf-bare dragged on, the hard frost made the grass sharp enough to pierce a cat’s pads like thorns, and prey stayed deep inside their holes. Yellowpaw felt as if her belly was flapping, it was so empty, but Deerleap kept her on a grueling training regime.

  “I have to get up before any of you,” Yellowpaw grumbled to Nutpaw as she licked a paw and tried to rub sleep out of her eyes. “Some mornings we’re even out before the dawn patrol! And it’s never enough if I catch one piece of prey. Oh, no—we can’t come back to camp until I’ve caught two or three.”

  “You’re doing great,” Nutpaw muttered. He was still curled up in the moss of the apprentices’ den, and he sounded half-asleep. “Deerleap is a fantastic mentor.”

  Yellowpaw snorted, though she was pleased that she had managed to impress her brother. I’m trying really hard, she thought. Surely I’m going to be a good warrior with all this training?

  “Yellowpaw!”

  “Uh-oh.” Yellowpaw flinched at the sound of her mentor’s voice. “Coming!” she called as she scrambled out of the den.

  Deerleap was standing a fox-length away, impatiently flexing her claws. The first faint light of dawn was creeping into the sky; Yellowpaw could barely see the outlines of the trees. Stonetooth was emerging from the warriors’ den. He arched his back in a long stretch and his jaws parted in a yawn.

  Yellowpaw blinked and tried to look alert. “Where are we going today?”

  “I thought we might try near the big ash tree,” Deerleap replied. “No cat has hunted there for a day or two.”

  Yellowpaw’s sleepiness vanished as she headed into the forest after her mentor. The air was crisp and cold; her paws pattered on the hard ground, and she made a conscious effort to walk softly. The dawn light was strengthening as the ash tree came into sight. Deerleap gestured with her tail for Yellowpaw to take cover behind some brambles.

  “Keep per
fectly still,” she instructed. “Look, listen, and scent. What can you pick up?”

  Yellowpaw drew herself up, her whiskers quivering with concentration, and tried to focus all her senses at once. At first she could hear nothing but the breeze in the bare branches of the ash, and the soft sound of her own breath. Then a familiar scent wafted into her jaws and she pricked her ears.

  Blackbird!

  She poked her head out from behind the brambles and spotted the bird pecking among the roots of the ash tree. Remembering to check the direction of the breeze, she worked her way around the outside of the thicket and dropped into her hunter’s crouch to creep up on the bird from the other direction. Stealthily, paw step by paw step, Yellowpaw edged forward, her gaze fixed on her quarry. She was aware of Deerleap watching her, which made her even more determined. I’ve got to make a good catch!

  But before Yellowpaw came within pouncing distance, she accidentally stepped on a dead leaf. It crackled under her paw, and the blackbird, alerted by the tiny sound, fluttered up onto a low branch.

  “Mouse dung!” Yellowpaw hissed.

  She padded back to Deerleap, who was still in cover behind the brambles.

  “Okay,” her mentor mewed. “What did you do wrong?”

  “I stepped on a leaf.” Duh!

  “And why did you step on a leaf?”

  “I wasn’t aware of everything around me,” Yellowpaw admitted. “I was so focused on the blackbird that I didn’t think about where I was putting my paws.”

  Deerleap gave her an approving nod. “Good. You’ll remember next time, won’t you?” Glancing out from the thicket, she added, “And now you get another chance.”

  Yellowpaw poked her head out and saw that the bird was back among the tree roots, pecking away as if it had forgotten the threat.

  I’ll get you this time!

  Checking the wind direction again, she crept forward; this time she looked down at the ground in front of her, assessing everything that lay between her and her prey. She avoided a fallen twig, and used a clump of frostbitten grass for extra cover. At last she was close enough to pounce; bunching her muscles, she shot forward in an enormous leap, and sank her claws into the bird before it realized she was there. Once the limp body was securely in her jaws, she trotted back to her mentor.