The Darkest Hour
Instead of making Firestar afraid, the knowledge exhilarated him. Let him try! he thought.
“Greetings, Tigerstar,” he meowed coolly. “You came, then. Not still looking for those prisoners you lost from RiverClan territory?”
Tigerstar let out a snarl. “You’ll regret that day’s work, Firestar.”
“Try and make me,” Firestar retorted.
The TigerClan leader did not reply, but waited as more of his followers appeared through the bushes. They were a formidable group, Firestar realized, though some of them bore wounds and claw marks from the raid on WindClan the previous day. His heart began to thump painfully as he realized that the battle he had feared for so long might be unleashed any moment.
Tigerstar took a pace forward, his head raised challengingly. “Have you thought about my offer? I’m giving you the choice: Join with me now and accept my leadership, or be destroyed.”
Firestar exchanged a single glance with Tallstar. There was no need for words. They had already decided what their response must be.
Firestar spoke for them both. “We reject your offer. The forest was never meant to be ruled by one Clan, especially not one led by a dishonorable murderer.”
“But it will be.” Tigerstar’s voice was soft; he didn’t even try to defend himself against Firestar’s accusation. “With you or without you, Firestar, it will be. By sunset today, the time of four Clans will be over.”
“The answer is still no,” Firestar meowed. “ThunderClan will never submit.”
“Nor will WindClan,” added Tallstar.
“Then your courage is matched only by your stupidity,” growled Tigerstar.
He paused, his gaze raking the warriors of WindClan and ThunderClan. Firestar heard snarls from the TigerClan warriors behind their leader and forced himself not to flinch away from their glittering eyes and bristling fur. For a few heartbeats not a cat moved, and Firestar braced himself for Tigerstar’s order to attack.
Then he heard a choking sound behind him, and a single word gasped out: “Tawnypaw!”
Bramblepaw was standing rigid at Firestar’s shoulder, staring into the ranks of their enemies. Following his gaze, Firestar spotted the young she-cat standing close beside Oakfur, a ShadowClan warrior.
“What is she doing there?” That was Brackenfur, thrusting himself forward to stand at Firestar’s other side. “Tigerstar did steal her!”
“Steal her?” There was a purr in Tigerstar’s voice. “Not at all. Tawnypaw came to us willingly.”
Firestar didn’t know whether to believe him or not. Tawnypaw was looking down at the ground as if she didn’t w ant to meet the eyes of her brother and her former mentor. He had to admit that she didn’t look like a prisoner; instead she just looked uncomfortable at being the center of attention.
“Tawnypaw!” Bramblepaw called. “What are you doing? You’re a ThunderClan cat—come back to us!”
Firestar winced at the pain in the young cat’s voice. He remembered the agony of losing Graystripe when his friend chose to leave and join RiverClan.
Tawnypaw said nothing.
“No, Bramblepaw,” Tigerstar meowed. “You come to us. Your sister made the right choice. TigerClan will rule over the whole forest, and you can share our power.”
Firestar saw Bramblepaw’s muscles tense. At last, after all the doubts and suspicions Firestar had felt about him, the young cat was faced with a simple choice. Would he follow his father or stay loyal to his Clan?
“What do you say?” Tigerstar prompted. “ThunderClan is finished. There is nothing there for you.”
“Join you?” Bramblepaw growled. He paused, swallowing as he fought to control his anger. When he spoke again his words rang out clearly so that every cat in the clearing could hear him.
“Join you?” he repeated. “After everything you’ve done? I’d rather die!”
A murmur of approval broke out among the ThunderClan cats.
Tigerstar’s amber eyes smoldered with rage. “Are you sure?” he hissed. “I won’t make the offer twice. Join me now, or you will die.”
“Then at least I’ll go to StarClan as a loyal ThunderClan cat,” Bramblepaw retorted, his head high.
Firestar felt pride thrilling through him from nose to tail-tip. There could be no greater challenge to Tigerstar’s power than for his own son to reject him in favor of the Clan his father despised.
“Fool!” Tigerstar spat. “Stay, then, and die with these other fools.”
Firestar braced himself as he waited for his enemy to launch the attack, convinced that battle was upon them. Instead, to his surprise, Blackfoot raised his tail in a signal.
The bushes on the opposite slope rustled, and Firestar’s eyes widened in shock as more cats emerged into the clearing. He had never seen any of them before. They were skinny, their fur ragged, but he sensed strength in their wiry limbs. The stench of crowfood and the Thunderpath rolled off them. These were no forest cats.
The warriors of ThunderClan and WindClan stared in disbelief as more and more of the strangers padded into the clearing. They fanned out into a semicircle around TigerClan, row after row of them, more cats than Firestar could remember seeing all together in the forest, even at a Gathering.
“Well?” Tigerstar demanded silkily. “Are you still sure that you want to stand and fight?”
CHAPTER 22
Dismay kept Firestar’s paws rooted to the ground as he watched the newcomers approach. He noticed that some of them were wearing collars.
“Collars?” Ashpaw spat behind him, echoing his thoughts. The apprentice’s voice was sharp with disgust. “Look at them—they’re kittypets! We won’t have any trouble beating them.”
“Keep quiet,” his mentor, Dustpelt, warned quietly, “until we have the full measure of our enemy. We don’t know anything about these cats yet.”
Firestar remained silent until all the strange cats had moved into the clearing and gathered around TigerClan. A huge black-and-white tom stepped out of their ranks and went to stand beside Tigerstar. Firestar presumed this was the leader of the new comers. He was almost as big as Tigerstar himself, and he was muscular and battle-scarred. Even though they wore collars, Firestar knew these cats were far from being pampered kittypets.
Behind the black-and-white warrior appeared a much smaller black cat, who stalked light-footed through the grass to stand on Tigerstar’s other side. Firestar could not imagine who he was; he looked more like a medicine cat than a warrior.
Firestar could feel every hair in his pelt tingling, and the air tasted thick, as if a storm were about to break. “So, Tigerstar,” he meowed, forcing his voice to remain steady. “Do you want to tell us who your new friends are?”
“This is BloodClan,” Tigerstar announced. “They come from Twolegplace. I have brought them to the forest to persuade you foolish cats to join with me. I knew you wouldn’t have the sense to agree on your own.”
A hiss of outrage rippled through ThunderClan and WindClan. Firestar heard Thornclaw whisper, “Remember those rogues we scented the day I was made a warrior? I bet they came from BloodClan.”
He could well be right, Firestar thought. A patrol of these rogues from Twolegplace, checking out the forest to see what Tigerstar had to offer them. And what exactly had he offered? To share the forest in return for their help in battle?
“You see, Firestar?” Tigerstar’s voice was exultant. “I am even more powerful than StarClan, for I have changed the Clans in the forest from four to two. TigerClan and BloodClan will rule together.”
Firestar stared at his enemy in alarm. There was no possibility of reasoning with Tigerstar now. His hunger for power had twisted him so that in his mind his own huge figure dominated everything, blotting out even the light of StarClan.
“No, Tigerstar,” he answered quietly. “If you want to fight, let us fight. StarClan will show who is more powerful.”
“You mouse-brained fool!” Tigerstar spat. “I was prepared to come here and talk with you t
oday. Just remember that it was you who drove us to this. And when your Clan mates are dying around you, they will blame you with their last breath.” He swung around to face the mass of cats ranged behind him. “BloodClan, attack!”
Not a cat moved.
Tigerstar’s amber eyes widened and he screeched, “Attack, I order you!”
Still none of the warriors moved, except for the small black cat who took a pace forward. He glanced toward Firestar. “I am Scourge, the leader of BloodClan,” he meowed, his voice cold and quiet. “Tigerstar, my warriors are not yours to command. They will attack when I tell them, and not before.”
The look Tigerstar gave him was incredulous and glittered with all the hatred he had ever shown to Firestar, as if he couldn’t believe that this scrap of a cat was defying him. Firestar seized his opportunity. He paced forward until he stood right in front of the two leaders. Behind him, he heard Graystripe hiss, “Firestar, be careful!”
But this was no time for being careful. The very future of the forest was at stake, balanced on the breadth of a hair between Tigerstar’s bloodthirsty quest for power, and the whims of the unknown BloodClan.
Now Firestar could see that the collar Scourge wore around his neck was studded with teeth—the teeth of dogs, and…cats’ teeth, too. Great StarClan! Did they kill their own kind and wear the teeth as trophies?
Others of the cats were wearing the same grisly ornaments. Firestar’s belly clenched and his mind reeled with a vision of blood flowing down the sides of the hollow, washing around the cats’ paws in a sticky, reeking tide. His terror was not just for himself and his own Clan, but for every cat in the forest, friends and enemies alike.
Would blood truly rule the forest, as Bluestar had prophesied? Had she meant that BloodClan would rule? Firestar shot a scorching glance at Tigerstar, wanting to express all the hatred he felt for the cat who had brought them to this.
But Firestar knew he had to hold on to his self-control if he were to make any impression on the BloodClan cats. Dipping his head toward their leader, he meowed clearly, so all the cats could hear him, “Greetings, Scourge. I am Firestar, leader of ThunderClan. I wish I could say you are welcome in the forest. But you would not believe me if I did, and I have no wish to lie to you. Unlike your supposed ally here, I am a cat of honor.” He flicked his tail toward Tigerstar, trying to put all the contempt he felt into the single gesture. “If you’ve believed any promises he made to you, you’re mistaken.”
“Tigerstar told me he had enemies in the forest.” There was all the cold of leaf-bare in the black cat’s voice. When Firestar looked into his eyes it was like gazing into the deep places of the night, unrelieved by the smallest gleam of light from StarClan. “Why should I believe you instead of him?”
Firestar took a breath. This was the chance he had wanted all along, the chance he had missed at the last Gathering, when thunder and lightning had interrupted the meeting. At last he could stand in front of all the Clans of the forest and bring Tigerstar’s dreadful history into the open. But now it was not just a matter of tarnishing Tigerstar’s reputation, but of saving the whole forest from destruction.
“Cats of all Clans,” Firestar began, “and especially cats of BloodClan, you have no need to believe or disbelieve me. Tigerstar’s crimes speak for themselves. When he was still a warrior of ThunderClan, he murdered our deputy, Redtail, hoping to be made deputy himself. First Lionheart was chosen as deputy, but when that noble warrior died in a fight with ShadowClan, Tigerstar achieved his ambition at last.”
He paused; a grim silence gripped the whole clearing, broken only by a contemptuous rumble from Tigerstar. “Mew away, little kittypet. It won’t change anything.”
Firestar ignored him. “Being deputy wasn’t enough,” he went on. “Tigerstar wanted to be leader of the Clan. He set a trap for Bluestar by the Thunderpath, but my own apprentice strayed into it instead. That’s how Cinderpelt came by her crippled leg.”
A shocked murmur swept through the clearing. Except for BloodClan, they all knew Cinderpelt, and she was popular even with cats of other Clans.
“Then Tigerstar conspired with Brokentail, the former leader of ShadowClan, who was ThunderClan’s prisoner,” Firestar told the listening cats. “He brought a pack of rogues into ThunderClan camp, and tried to murder Bluestar with his own claws. I stopped him, and when ThunderClan had beaten off the attack we drove him into exile. As a rogue, he slaughtered yet another of our warriors, Runningwind. Then before we knew what he was up to, he had made himself leader of ShadowClan.”
Firestar paused and looked around him. He was not sure how BloodClan and their leader Scourge were taking all this, but he could see that he had the horrified attention of every other cat in the clearing. He steadied himself, wanting to be sure they heard the last, most dreadful part of his story.
“But Tigerstar still wanted revenge on ThunderClan. Three moons ago, a pack of dogs got loose in the forest. Tigerstar caught prey for them, then laid a trail of dead rabbits between the dogs’ lair and the ThunderClan camp to lead them to us. He murdered one of our queens, Brindleface, and left her near the camp to give the dogs a taste for cat blood. If we hadn’t found out in time to escape, the whole of ThunderClan would have been torn to pieces.”
“Good riddance,” Tigerstar growled.
“As it was,” Firestar forced himself to go on, “our leader, Bluestar, died the bravest death of any cat, saving me and all her Clan from the pack.”
He expected yowls of outrage, but only silence greeted him as his story came to an end. The eyes of every cat were fixed on him, stunned with shock.
Firestar glanced at Leopardstar, still standing with Blackfoot and Darkstripe a little way behind Tigerstar. The River-Clan leader looked horrified. For a few heartbeats Firestar hoped that she might immediately break her agreement with Tigerstar and withdraw her Clan from his leadership, but she remained silent.
“This is Tigerstar’s history,” Firestar meowed urgently, turning back to Scourge. “It all shows one thing—that he’ll do anything for power. If he promised you a share of the forest, don’t believe him. He won’t give up one pawprint, not to you or any cat.”
Scourge’s eyes narrowed; Firestar could see that he was thinking carefully about what he had heard, and hope flared inside him like a tiny flame. “Tigerstar told me what he was planning to do with the dogs when he visited me two moons ago.” The black cat turned his head so that his gaze rested on the leader of ShadowClan. “He did not tell me that his plan failed.”
“None of that matters now,” Tigerstar broke in roughly. “We have an agreement with you, Scourge. Fight beside me now, and you’ll have all I offered you.”
“My Clan and I fight when I choose,” Scourge meowed. To Firestar he added, “I will think about what you have said. There will be no battle today.”
Tigerstar’s fur bristled with rage and his tail lashed from side to side. His muscles bunched as he dropped into a crouch. “Traitor!” he screeched, and leaped at Scourge with claws extended.
Watching with horror, Firestar expected to see the smaller cat torn apart. He knew from bitter experience the strength in Tigerstar’s muscles. But Scourge whipped to one side, avoiding Tigerstar as he landed. When the massive tabby turned to face him, Scourge lashed out with his front paws. The pale leaf-bare sun glinted unnaturally on the tips of each talon. Firestar felt his blood run cold. Scourge’s claws were reinforced with long, sharpened dogs’ teeth.
One blow to his shoulder unbalanced Tigerstar. He fell on his side, exposing his belly, and Scourge’s vicious claws sank into his throat. Blood welled out as the smaller cat ripped him down to the tail with a single slash.
A desperate scream of fury erupted from Tigerstar, then broke off with a ghastly choking sound. His body convulsed, limbs jerking and tail flailing. For a heartbeat a stillness settled over him, and Firestar knew he was falling into the trance of a leader who loses a life, to wake after a little while restored to strength and with
the rest of his lives intact.
But not even StarClan could heal this terrible wound. Scourge stood back and watched coldly as Tigerstar’s body convulsed again. The dark red blood kept on flowing, spreading across the ground in a ceaseless tide. Tigerstar let out another shriek; Firestar wanted to cover his ears so he didn’t have to listen anymore, but he was frozen to the spot.
Again the massive tabby’s body grew still for a heartbeat, but again the wound was too terrible to yield to the healing trance. Another spasm seized Tigerstar’s body. His claws tore up clumps of grass in his agony, while his screeches turned from fury to terror.
He’s dying nine times, Firestar realized. Oh, StarClan, no…
It was a death he would not have wished on any cat, not even Tigerstar, and he thought it would never be over.
When they saw what was happening to the leader they had believed was invincible, horrified yowling came from the warriors of TigerClan. Firestar realized that they were all breaking rank; several cats pushed roughly past him in their mad haste to flee from the clearing. From somewhere behind him he heard Tallstar call out to his own warriors, “Wait! Hold the line!”
Firestar knew he did not have to give his own warriors the same order. They would stand with him to the end.
Tigerstar was panting now, his fight for life exhausting him. Firestar caught a glimpse of his amber eyes, glazed with pain and fear and hatred. Then his body gave one last jerk and lay still.
Tigerstar was dead.
Frozen in disbelief, Firestar stared down at the lifeless body. His oldest enemy, the most dangerous cat in the forest, the cat he had expected to fight to the death—gone, just like that.
Firestar was left facing Scourge. The small black cat looked unmoved. Now Firestar knew not to underestimate him due to his size. He knew he had never faced a cat more dangerous than this, who in a single blow could destroy a leader with nine lives.