The Darkest Hour
When they came to the top of the hollow, everything was silent. The breeze was blowing away from them, toward ShadowClan territory, and Firestar felt his pelt prickle with dread. Their scent would be carried to the waiting BloodClan, while they themselves had no idea where their enemies might be.
“Graystripe, Mousefur,” he whispered. “Scout around the hollow. Don’t show yourselves. If you see any cats, come back and tell me.”
The two cats slid off in opposite directions, barely visible shadows in the gray light. Firestar waited, trying to appear calm and confident, thankful for the presence of Whitestorm and Sandstorm close beside him. He had barely time to think about what might happen next when Graystripe returned with another cat close behind him. It was Tallstar.
“Greetings, Firestar,” he murmured. “WindClan are here. All our warriors—and your friends, Barley and Ravenpaw.”
The loners came up as the WindClan leader spoke their names. “We came to help as we promised,” Ravenpaw meowed, twining his tail with Firestar’s in greeting. “We’ll fight alongside you, if you’ll have us.”
“If we’ll have you?” Firestar echoed, a purr of gratitude swelling up inside him. “You’re welcome; you know that.”
“We’re proud to fight with you,” Barley mewed. Sandstorm came up to greet her former Clan mate, and the two loners took positions beside her.
“Do you know where BloodClan is?” Firestar asked Tallstar.
Tallstar’s eyes were bleak as he gazed across the hollow to the ShadowClan territory. “Somewhere out there, watching us, I’d guess.”
His voice was steady, and Firestar began to envy his calm, unshaking courage, until he caught the WindClan leader’s fear-scent and heard him mutter under his breath, “StarClan help us! Show us an enemy we can fight!”
Somehow the knowledge that Tallstar was as afraid as he was himself only increased Firestar’s respect for the older and more experienced leader. Tallstar would never show fear in front of his Clan. He would put aside his own feelings to do his duty as leader; Firestar only hoped that he could do the same.
He peered into the shadows, looking for a sign that Mousefur was on her way back. Almost at once he caught sight of her bounding toward him, and in the same heartbeat there was movement in the clearing below. Dark shapes appeared from the bushes at the foot of the opposite slope as BloodClan advanced in a single menacing line. Firestar’s belly clenched in fear when the small figure of Scourge stepped out.
“I know you’re there!” the BloodClan leader called. “Come and give me your answer.”
Firestar paused for a heartbeat, and glanced at the cats behind him. Though he knew how terrified they must be, he could see nothing but fierce determination in their faces. LionClan was ready for battle.
“Go on, Firestar,” Leopardstar mewed quietly. Her fur was bristling and her ears lay flat against her head in a mixture of fear and defiance. “Lead us.”
Firestar looked at Tallstar, who nodded. “You spoke for us before,” he meowed. “You’re the one who should lead us now. We all trust you.”
Firestar led the united Clans down into the clearing. Scourge was waiting for him near the base of the Great Rock. His black pelt was neatly groomed and he sat with his paws tucked under him. His eyes were chips of ice, and the rising sun glinted on the teeth that studded his kittypet collar.
“Greetings,” he meowed. He swiped his tongue around his jaws as if he were tasting a succulent piece of prey. “Have you decided to leave? Or do you presume you can fight against BloodClan?”
“We don’t have to fight,” Firestar replied steadily. To his surprise he felt icily calm. “We will let you go back to Twolegplace in peace.”
Scourge let out a cold mrrow of laughter. “Go back? Do you really think we’re such cowards? No, this is our home now.”
Feeling the last spark of hope drain out of his paws, Firestar looked past Scourge at the ranks of his BloodClan warriors. These were lean, tough cats, most of them wearing collars studded with teeth like Scourge, the trophies of earlier battles. Some were flexing claws strengthened with dogs’ teeth, and Firestar remembered the way Scourge’s claws had ripped through Tigerstar’s belly. Their eyes glittered as they waited for the order to attack.
“The forest is ours,” Firestar told the black cat. “We rule here by the will of StarClan.”
“StarClan!” Scourge sneered. “Tales for kits. Forest fool, StarClan won’t help you now.” He sprang to his paws, his fur suddenly bristling out so that he looked twice his size. “Attack!” he snarled.
The line of BloodClan warriors surged forward.
“LionClan, attack!” Firestar yowled.
He sprang toward Scourge, but the BloodClan leader dodged nimbly to one side. A huge tabby tom leaped into his place, hitting Firestar in the flank, knocking him off his paws. The clearing was silent no longer. As Firestar battered with his hind paws at the BloodClan warrior, he heard cats crashing through the undergrowth all around the hollow. Leopardstar bounded out of the bushes with Tallstar; Blackfoot raced forward at the head of a tight knot of ShadowClan warriors; and Whitestorm ran at the lead of the cats of ThunderClan, as all four forest Clans poured into the clearing and fell snarling on their enemies.
Firestar managed to throw off the BloodClan cat and scrambled to his paws. Scourge had vanished. Firestar was surrounded by a heaving mass of cats; he was amazed at how swiftly chaos had descended. He spotted Graystripe battling bravely with a huge black tom, and Willowpelt rolling on the ground, her teeth locked in the shoulder of a BloodClan tortoiseshell. Longtail was nearby, too, squirming helplessly under the weight of two BloodClan warriors. Firestar hurled himself into combat and dragged one of the cats away, feeling the strength of the muscular body as the enemy warrior turned on him. He felt claws slash into his shoulder, and raked his own claws across the warrior’s face. Blood welled out of a gash on its forehead, dripping into its eyes; blinded, the cat lost its grip on Firestar, and he aimed a final blow before lea ping back and whirling around in search of Longtail.
The pale tabby had driven off his other adversary, but he was bleeding deeply from his shoulder and flank. Firestar saw Cinderpelt limp rapidly out of the bushes; she nudged Longtail to his feet and helped him, staggering away from the thick of the fighting.
Firestar sprang back into the battle. Onewhisker flashed past him, pursuing a BloodClan warrior, and he caught a glimpse of Mistyfoot fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with Featherpaw and Stormpaw. Brightheart was weaving in front of a BloodClan tabby twice her size, her new fighting techniques already confusing the huge tomcat. Cloudtail fought beside her. Brightheart dodged beneath her enemy’s outstretched paws, raking her claws down his nose. The tabby turned and fled. Cloudtail let out a yowl of triumph, and the two cats wheeled around as one and flung themselves back into the whirling mob of cats.
Not far away, Barley and Ravenpaw were battling side by side against a pair of identical gray tomcats, lean warriors whose collars bristled with teeth. “I know you!” one of them spat at Barley. “You didn’t have the courage to stay with Scourge.”
“At least I had the courage to leave,” Barley hissed back at him, rearing up to swipe both forepaws at the gray warrior’s ears. “It’s your turn to run. You don’t belong here.”
Ravenpaw pressed forward beside him, and the two BloodClan warriors were gradually forced back into the bushes. A white BloodClan warrior burst into the open just beside them, with Morningflower slashing fiercely at his haunches as he fled from her. “Gorsepaw! Gorsepaw!” she yowled, giving voice to all her grief for her dead son. She leaped on the warrior and brought him down, clawing out pawfuls of white fur.
Firestar looked for Scourge. There could be no victory until the BloodClan leader was dead, and in a moment’s breathing space Firestar reflected how strange it was that the final battle for the forest would not be with Tigerstar, but with Tigerstar’s murderer.
But the BloodClan leader was nowhere to be seen. Fighting h
is way toward the base of the Great Rock, lashing out with teeth and claws, Firestar came face-to-face with a skinny gray she-cat. Her green eyes glinted with hatred as she launched herself at him, her teeth and claws digging deep into his shoulder. Firestar felt her tooth-studded collar crushing his face as she bit down. He twisted, tearing his neck fur free of the BloodClan warrior’s teeth and launching himself at her unprotected belly, to score his claws down it. The she-cat sprang back and fled into the bushes.
Firestar stood panting, blood welling from his shoulder. How long could he keep this up, he wondered, before he grew too weak to carry on? There seemed as many BloodClan warriors as ever in the hollow, all strong and healthy and skilled in combat. Would the battle never end?
A BloodClan tortoiseshell loomed up in front of him, its face distorted with a screech of hatred. In the same heartbeat a dark shape shot out of the bushes, barreling into the tortoise shell’s side and shoving her away from Firestar. Astonished, Firestar recognized Darkstripe. Ha d the dark warrior decided at last that his loyalties belonged to ThunderClan?
A moment later he realized how wrong he was. Darkstripe whirled to face him, hissing, “You’re mine, kittypet. It’s time for you to die.”
Firestar braced himself for the attack. “So now you’re fighting on the side of Tigerstar’s murderer?” he taunted Darkstripe. “Have you no loyalty in you?”
“Not anymore,” Darkstripe snarled. “Every cat in the forest can turn to crowfood for all I care. All I want is to see you dead.”
Firestar slipped to one side as Darkstripe leaped toward him, but one of the dark warrior’s paws caught him on the side of the head and he lost his footing. Darkstripe landed on top of him and pinned him down. Firestar twisted, trying to free his hind paws. He scrabbled furiously at Darkstripe’s belly but could not shake him off. The warrior bared his teeth, aiming for Firestar’s neck. Firestar braced himself for a last desperate effort.
Suddenly Darkstripe’s body rolled off him. Firestar got to his paws to see Graystripe struggling with his old Clan mate in a screeching knot of fur and claws. Graystripe’s pelt was torn and his shoulder glistened with blood from an earlier wound, but before Firestar could move to help him he flung Darkstripe to the ground and landed on top of him, panting.
“Traitor!” he hissed.
Darkstripe writhed violently, scoring deep gouges in the earth, but he couldn’t throw off the gray warrior. “Fox dung!” he spat. He twisted his head, trying to sink his teeth into Graystripe’s neck.
Graystripe lashed out with one forepaw. His claws pierced Darkstripe’s throat and blood gushed out. The dark tabby gave one convulsive shudder. His jaws parted as he fought for breath. “There’s nothing left…” he choked out. “It’s all dark—everything’s gone….”
Firestar saw his eyes glazing, a terrible emptiness in them. His struggles faded and his body went limp.
Spitting contemptuously, Graystripe scrambled off him. “One less traitor in the forest,” he snarled.
Firestar touched his nose to Graystripe’s shoulder. Suddenly Graystripe went rigid, staring past his leader. “Firestar…” he rasped.
Firestar whirled around to see Sandstorm and Dustpelt fighting side by side at the edge of the battle. They didn’t seem to need his help, and at first he couldn’t understand what had distressed Graystripe. Then the mass of cats parted briefly to reveal Bone, the huge BloodClan deputy, crouched over another cat who moved feebly beneath him. So much blood clotted the victim’s fur that Firestar could hardly make out its color, and it took him a couple of heartbeats to recognize Whitestorm.
“No!” he yowled, and he hurled himself at Bone with Graystripe hard on his paws.
Bone sprang backward, only to cannon into Bramblepaw and Ashpaw, who came charging across the clearing at the same moment. Firestar saw his apprentice leap onto the huge deputy’s back, while Ashpaw bit down into his hind leg.
Confident that Bone would be distracted for a while, Firestar crouched beside Whitestorm, almost oblivious to the battle that surged around them. Recognition glimmered in the white warrior’s eyes when he saw Firestar, and the tip of his tail twitched. “Good-bye, Firestar,” he rasped.
“Whitestorm, no!” Firestar felt a wail of agony building up inside him. He should never have brought his deputy into this battle, when all along the white warrior had seemed to know that it would be his last. “Graystripe, find Cinderpelt.”
“Too late,” Whitestorm breathed. “I go to hunt with StarClan.”
“You can’t—the Clan needs you! I need you!”
“You will find others….” The white warrior’s gaze, growing rapidly dimmer, flickered to Graystripe and back again. “Trust your heart, Firestar. You have always known that Graystripe is the cat StarClan destined to be your deputy.”
Letting out a long sigh, he closed his eyes.
“Whitestorm…” Firestar wanted to mewl his grief like a tiny kit. For a heartbeat he pushed his nose into his deputy’s blood-soaked fur, the only mourning ritual that the battle allowed.
Then he turned to Graystripe, who was staring in shock at the old warrior’s body. “You heard what he said,” Firestar meowed. “He chose you.” Rising to his paws, he lifted his voice above the tumult of battle. “I say these words before the body of Whitestorm, that his spirit may hear and approve my choice. Graystripe will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”
A yowl of agreement from behind startled him, and Firestar turned to see Sandstorm and Dustpelt pausing to nod briefly at Graystripe before dashing back into the battle again.
Graystripe had not moved, his yellow eyes fixed on Firestar. “Are you…are you sure?”
“Never surer,” Firestar growled. “Now, Graystripe!”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the BloodClan deputy struggling free from Bramblepaw and Ashpaw. Before Firestar could spring at him, a screech of defiance sounded above the noise of battle and several more apprentices hurtled across the clearing. Bone was barely visible under the writhing heap of furious young cats. Bramblepaw and Ashpaw were there, with Featherpaw and Stormpaw and, yes, Tawnypaw, fighting beside her brother. Within a few heartbeats Bone had stopped trying to defend himself; his body went into a series of spasms, ending in his twitching tail, and as Firestar watched the twitching stopped. Ashpaw let out a hoarse cry of triumph.
At the same instant Jaggedtooth appeared out of nowhere. Firestar felt his fur stand on end. Once a rogue, then a member of ShadowClan, and now part of the insult to the warrior code that was BloodClan. The massive warrior flung himself on the apprentices and fastened his teeth in the nearest—Bramblepaw—dragging him off Bone’s body. At once Tawnypaw launched herself at the rogue cat. “Let go of my brother!” she spat. The rest of the apprentices sprang forward with her, and Jaggedtooth abruptly dropped Bramblepaw, turning tail and fleeing across the clearing with all the apprentices in pursuit.
Breathing hard, Firestar glanced around, and his stomach turned over as he tried to judge how the battle was going. Though Darkstripe and Bone were dead, and Jaggedtooth had been driven off, the clearing still seemed full of BloodClan warriors, and yet more were racing down the slope. ThunderClan had lost Whitestorm, and between the battling cats Firestar caught a glimpse of Torn ear from WindClan lying motionless. Brackenfur and Mousefur fought on side by side, but Brackenfur was limping and Mousefur had deep claw marks stretching all along one side. At the edge of the clearing Frostfur was dragging herself into the bushes, with Fernpaw helping her, and not far away Runningnose, the ShadowClan medicine cat, was pressing cobwebs on a wound in Blackfoot’s shoulder, until the ShadowClan deputy shook him off and threw himself back into the fray. Leopard star appeared briefly, yowling hoarse encouragement to her warriors, before she vanished again in a surge of BloodClan cats.
We’re losing, Firestar thought, fighting panic. I must find Scourge!
With the BloodClan leader’s death, he knew the battle would be over. The cats from Twolegplace had no sense of traditio
n or loyalty to the warrior code. Scourge held them together, and without him they would be nothing.
Firestar felt his fur begin to bristle as his gaze found Scourge at last. The small black cat was crouched at the base of the Great Rock, his claws slicing at a warrior he had trapped there. Firestar’s belly lurched as he recognized Onewhisker.
With a yowl of defiance he leaped across the clearing. Scourge whipped around, leaving Onewhisker to crawl away, bleeding.
The BloodClan leader bared his teeth in a snarl. “Firestar!”
Without warning, he leaped. Firestar rolled with the impact and landed on top of the smaller cat, planting one paw on his neck. But before he could bite down, Scourge wriggled away with the speed of a snake. The dogs’ teeth on his claws flashed as he raked them across Firestar’s shoulder.
Excruciating pain lanced through Firestar’s body. He forced himself not to flinch but leaped forward again, sending Scourge flying back against the Great Rock. Briefly the black tom was stunned, and Firestar managed to bite down on his foreleg. Pain like fire seared through him again with another blow from the BloodClan leader’s claws, and in the shock of it Firestar lost his grip on Scourge.
The BloodClan leader reared back, his paw raised for the death blow. Firestar scrabbled to get away, but he was not fast enough. Agony exploded in his head as the reinforced claws struck down. flame washed over his eyes, fading to leave nothing but darkness. A soft, black tide was rising to engulf him; he made one final effort to get up, but his paws would not support him, and he fell back into nothingness.
CHAPTER 29
Firestar opened his eyes. He was lying on the grass of Fourtrees with moonlight washing around him and the rustle of leaves above his head. For a few heartbeats he relaxed, reveling in the warm air of greenleaf.