A Dangerous Path

  “I don’t believe you!” Stonefur drew his lips back in a vicious snarl. “It’s a trick.”

  “No, wait,” mewed Mistyfoot. “Fireheart doesn’t lie.”

  “How would you know?” her brother demanded. “He’s a ThunderClan cat. Why should we trust him?”

  He advanced on Fireheart, claws out, and the ThunderClan warrior braced himself for the attack, but before Stonefur could spring, Bluestar slipped out from behind him and faced the two RiverClan cats.

  “My kits, oh, my kits…” Bluestar’s voice was warm, and when she turned her head Fireheart saw that her eyes were blazing with admiration. “You’re such fine warriors now. I’m so proud of you.”

  Stonefur glanced at Mistyfoot, uncertainty showing in his twitching ears.

  “Leave Bluestar alone,” Fireheart urged quietly.

  A sudden yowling interrupted him. “Fireheart! Watch out!” The voice was Graystripe’s.

  Fireheart looked up in time to see Leopardstar plunging down the rock toward him. Graystripe’s warning gave him just enough time to scramble backward, so that her outstretched claws only raked his shoulder. Spitting, she flung herself at him, driving the breath out of his body as she hurled him to the ground.

  Fireheart gripped the RiverClan leader’s neck with his front paws and felt her powerful hind paws raking at his belly. Pain stabbed through him, and he slashed out blindly, feeling his claws score through fur. For a few heartbeats all he could see was Leopardstar’s spotted pelt; his face was pressed into it, half smothering him, and he struggled to breathe.

  Suddenly Leopardstar jerked her head back, and Fireheart lost his hold on her neck. Her stifling weight was lifted off him. Scrambling to his paws, he backed against the rock, ready for her to spring at him again. His head whirled with exhaustion, and he could feel blood pulsing out of a wound on his leg. Suddenly he wasn’t sure that this was a battle he could win.

  He looked around for Bluestar, but she had disappeared, and so had Mistyfoot and Stonefur. The RiverClan leader crouched on the ground in front of him, breathing hard, bleeding from her neck and side. To Fireheart’s astonishment, Graystripe stood over her, pinning her down with his front paws.

  “I had him,” Leopardstar panted, almost incoherent with fury. “I heard you just now. You warned him.”

  Graystripe released his leader so she could stagger to her paws again. “I’m sorry, Leopardstar, but Fireheart’s my friend.”

  Leopardstar shook drops of blood from her golden tabby fur and glared at the gray warrior. “I was right about you all along,” she hissed. “You were never loyal to RiverClan. All right, you’ve got a choice. Attack your friend for me now, or leave my Clan for good.”

  Graystripe stared at her in dismay. Fireheart’s breath caught in his chest. Was Leopardstar going to force him to fight his former Clan mate? He knew that he didn’t have the strength to beat a cat who was still relatively fresh—and much more than that, how could he lift a claw against his best friend?

  “Well?” snarled Leopardstar. “What are you waiting for?”

  Graystripe glanced at Fireheart, his amber eyes filled with anguish. Then he bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Leopardstar. I can’t do it. Punish me if you want.”

  “Punish you?” Leopardstar’s face was contorted in fury. “I’ll claw your eyes out; I’ll set you loose in the forest for the foxes to track down. Traitor! I’ll—”

  A chorus of yowling drowned her threats. Fireheart looked up, almost despairing at the thought of more enemies to fight. He could hardly believe what he saw. A wave of ThunderClan cats was streaming over the rock and down into the gully. He spotted Mousefur, Darkstripe, Sandstorm, and Dustpelt, and Swiftpaw leading the other apprentices. His message had gotten through, and help had come at last!

  Leopardstar took one look and fled. The ThunderClan warriors gave chase at once with furious yowls. Fireheart and Graystripe were left looking at each other.

  “Thank you,” Fireheart mewed after a few moments.

  Graystripe shrugged and padded over to him. He was limping slightly, and his fur was torn and thick with dust. “There was no choice,” he whispered. “I couldn’t hurt you, could I?”

  Fireheart drew himself up. As his head cleared, he realized that the sounds of battle were fading and a heavy silence was gathering over Sunningrocks, filled with the reek of blood. “Come on. I’ve got to see what’s happening.”

  He turned and padded along the gully, aware that Graystripe was following close behind. Coming to the open ground beyond the rocks, he saw the RiverClan warriors retreating down the slope that led to the river. At the head of the patrol, Blackclaw launched himself into the river and began swimming toward the opposite bank.

  Brackenfur and Sandstorm stood nearby, and more ThunderClan cats crouched on top of Sunningrocks, watching their enemies depart. Cloudpaw raised his head and let out a yowl of pure triumph.

  Bluestar padded after the retreating cats as far as the RiverClan border, her ears pricked with determination. Fireheart saw with a twinge of distress that she was following Mistyfoot and Stonefur. “Now that you know the truth, we must talk,” she called after them. “You will be welcome in the ThunderClan camp. I will tell my warriors to bring you to my den whenever you want to see me.”

  But both warriors turned away from her and stalked down to the edge of the water. Stonefur glanced back before he waded out into the river. “Leave us alone,” he growled. “You’re no mother of ours, whatever you say.”

  Leopardstar was the last cat to retreat across the border. “Look there!” she snapped at her warriors, flicking her tail toward Graystripe, who was standing beside Fireheart. “If it weren’t for that traitor, Sunningrocks would be ours again. He’s no longer a member of RiverClan. If you catch him on our territory, kill him.”

  Without waiting for any response, she spun around and limped rapidly toward the river.

  Graystripe said nothing. He stood as motionless as the rocks behind him, with his head hanging.

  Sandstorm padded across to Fireheart. “What happened?” she asked. She was bleeding from a scratch on her shoulder, but her eyes were clear and questioning.

  Fireheart longed to go back to camp and curl up in the warriors’ den to share tongues with her, but he knew he had too much to do. “Graystripe saved my life,” he explained. “He pulled Leopardstar off me.”

  “So that’s why he can’t go back.” The pale ginger she-cat turned her head to watch the last of the RiverClan cats plunging into the river. Then she looked back at Graystripe, her eyes huge with concern. “What is he going to do, then?” she murmured.

  Sudden joy stabbed through Fireheart. Whatever Graystripe felt for his kits, if he could not go back to RiverClan, he could come home. Then the joy faded and anxiety twisted Fireheart’s belly. That decision wasn’t his to make. Would Bluestar now allow the gray warrior to come back to the Clan he had left? And how would the other warriors react?

  Looking around for his leader, Fireheart saw her padding wearily up the slope, and went to meet her. “Bluestar…”

  She raised her head, and he saw that her eyes were puzzled. “They hate me, Fireheart.”

  Sorrow flooded over Fireheart. With his own worries about Graystripe, he had almost forgotten what his leader must be suffering. “I’m sorry, Bluestar,” he murmured. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have told them. But I couldn’t think of what else to do.”

  “That’s all right, Fireheart.” To his amazement Bluestar reached out and gave his shoulder a swift lick. “I always wanted them to know. But I didn’t think they would hate me for what I did.” She let out a long sigh. “Let’s go back to camp.”

  She showed no sense of triumph that ThunderClan had succeeded in defending their claim to Sunningrocks. When she reached the place where her warriors were gathered, she said nothing about the victory, not even to congratulate them for fighting so well. Her mind still seemed fixed on her kits.

  Fireheart fell in beside his leader as she p
added up the slope. “Well done,” he meowed to Cloudpaw as his apprentice leaped off the rock and landed neatly at his side. “You fought like a warrior. So did all of you,” he added, raising his voice as he glanced around, hoping to make up for their leader’s indifference. “Bluestar and I are both proud of you.”

  “Thank StarClan we managed to beat RiverClan off,” mewed Brackenfur.

  “No, thank us,” Cloudpaw put in. “We did all the fighting. I didn’t notice any StarClan warriors on our side.”

  Bluestar turned her head at that and fixed an intent gaze on the white apprentice, her eyes narrowed. Fireheart expected her to rebuke him, but her expression showed interest rather than anger. She gave a little nod but said nothing.

  As the warriors began to move off toward their camp, Fireheart went to stand beside Graystripe. “Bluestar,” he mewed nervously, “Graystripe’s here.”

  Bluestar’s gaze flickered vaguely over the gray warrior. For a moment Fireheart was afraid that her mind was drifting again, and she wouldn’t even remember that Graystripe had ever left ThunderClan.

  Then Darkstripe shouldered his way forward. “Get off our territory!” he spat at Graystripe, adding to Bluestar, “I’ll drive him off, if you want.”

  “Wait,” Bluestar ordered with a touch of her old authority. “Fireheart, explain what’s going on.”

  He told her how Graystripe had warned him about Leopardstar’s attack and pulled her away when Fireheart was losing their fight. “He brought me to help you when Mistyfoot and Stonefur were attacking you,” he explained. “And I owe him my life. Bluestar, please let him come back into ThunderClan.”

  Graystripe looked at his former leader with a glimmer of hope in his amber eyes. But before Bluestar could reply, Darkstripe broke in roughly. “He left ThunderClan of his own free will. Why should we let him come crawling back now?”

  “I’m not crawling to you or any cat,” Graystripe retorted. He turned to face the gray she-cat again. “But I’d like to come back, if you’ll have me, Bluestar.”

  “You can’t take back a traitor!” Darkstripe spat. “He just betrayed his leader—how do you know he won’t betray you the first chance he gets?”

  “He did it for Fireheart!” Sandstorm protested.

  Darkstripe snorted contemptuously.

  Bluestar fixed a cold look on him. “If Graystripe is a traitor,” she meowed, with all the ice of leaf-bare in her voice, “then he’s just the same as the rest of you. The Clan is full of traitors, so one more won’t make any difference.” She whirled on Fireheart, power and strength seeming to flow back into her body. “You should have let Mistyfoot and Stonefur kill me!” she spat. “Better a quick death at the claws of noble warriors than a life dragged out in a Clan I can’t trust—a Clan doomed to destruction by StarClan!”

  There were gasps from the other cats as she spoke, and Fireheart realized that few of the Clan had any idea how distrustful and despairing Bluestar had become. He knew there was no point in trying to argue with her now. “Does that mean Graystripe can stay?” he asked.

  “Stay or go, whatever he likes,” Bluestar responded indifferently. Her flash of strength ebbed, leaving her looking more exhausted than ever. Slowly, not meeting the troubled gazes of any of her warriors, she padded away in the direction of the camp.

  CHAPTER 18

  As Fireheart wearily pushed his way through the entrance to the camp he spotted Bramblekit dashing toward him, almost falling over his paws in his eagerness to greet the returning warriors. “Did we win?” he asked. He stopped and stared round-eyed at Graystripe. “Who’s this? Is he a prisoner?”

  “No, he’s a ThunderClan cat,” Fireheart replied. “It’s a long story, Bramblekit, and I’m too tired to explain now. Get your mother to tell you.”

  Bramblekit took a step back, looking slightly crestfallen. Though he wouldn’t remember it, Fireheart reflected, he had suckled side by side with Graystripe’s two kits. Goldenflower had cared for them in the few days they had spent in ThunderClan after Silverstream’s death.

  The dark tabby kit eyed Graystripe suspiciously as the two warriors padded past him, and then turned to Tawnykit as she came bounding up. “Look!” he mewed. “There’s a new cat in the Clan.”

  “Who is he?” Tawnykit wondered.

  “A traitor,” Darkstripe spat as he stalked past on his way to the warriors’ den. “But then, we’re all traitors, according to Bluestar.”

  The two kits stared at him with total bewilderment in their faces. Fireheart fought down his fury; there was no time to start an argument with Darkstripe, but the warrior had no business letting his anger spill over onto the kits. Feeling an unusual pang of sympathy for Bramblekit, he turned back and meowed, “Yes, we did win. We keep Sunningrocks.”

  Bramblekit gave a little joyous bounce. “Great! I’m going to tell the elders.” He scurried off with Tawnykit hard on his paws.

  “Those are Tigerstar’s kits, aren’t they?” asked Graystripe curiously, watching them go.

  “Yes.” Fireheart didn’t want to discuss them now. “Let’s go see Cinderpelt and get patched up.”

  Graystripe looked around as the two warriors crossed the burned-out clearing. “It’s never going to be the same,” he muttered despondently.

  “Next newleaf, you’ll see,” Fireheart replied, trying to cheer him up. He hoped Graystripe was only referring to the damage caused by the fire, and not a sense that he could never recover his old place within the Clan. “Everything will grow back stronger than before.”

  Graystripe didn’t reply. He didn’t look as happy as Fireheart had expected him to be, as if he were beginning to doubt that the rest of his birth Clan would accept him. And Fireheart could see pain in his eyes that suggested he was already beginning to miss the kits he had given up. After all, he hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye.

  The returning warriors were gathering in Cinderpelt’s clearing. As Fireheart and Graystripe approached, the medicine cat looked up from pressing cobwebs against a wound in Cloudpaw’s side. “Here’s Fireheart now,” she mewed, and added, “Great StarClan, you look as if you’ve been fighting monsters on the Thunderpath.”

  “It feels like it.” Fireheart grunted. Settling down to wait for Cinderpelt to check him over, he realized how much his wounds hurt. The one in the leg that Leopardstar had given him was still bleeding, and he bent his head to lick it.

  “What are you thinking, bringing him back again?” Fireheart looked up to see Dustpelt glaring at Graystripe. “We don’t want him here.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?” Fireheart asked, gritting his teeth. “I think he belongs here—and so does Sandstorm, and—” He broke off as Dustpelt pointedly turned his back.

  Graystripe shot an apologetic look at Fireheart. “They won’t accept me,” he mewed. “It’s true; I left the Clan, and now…”

  “Give it time,” Fireheart tried to encourage him. “They’ll come around.”

  Privately, he wished he could believe it. Thanks to Bluestar’s indifference, some of the ThunderClan cats would have no qualms about objecting to Graystripe’s return. One more problem, Fireheart thought, to add to his worries about what was really going on in the forest. How could the Clan hope to survive the destruction StarClan had prophesied, unless they were united?

  Fireheart wondered if Graystripe knew about the dark threat in the forest from RiverClan’s medicine cat the “pack” that StarClan had warned them of. Though Fireheart’s fur prickled with dread, there was some comfort in knowing that Graystripe was back, and he would have his friend to rely on, whatever lay ahead. Fireheart began to lick his wound again, wishing that he could just enjoy the gray warrior’s return for a few moments.

  “That’s right, get it clean,” Cinderpelt meowed as she came up to him. She sniffed at the leg wound and then rapidly checked his other injuries. “You’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “I’ll give you some cobwebs for the bleeding, but apart from that you just need to rest.”

 
“Have you seen Bluestar?” Fireheart asked as Cinderpelt brought the cobwebs and laid them over the wound. “Is she badly hurt?”

  “A bite on her shoulder,” replied the medicine cat. “I gave her a poultice of herbs, and she went back to her den.”

  Fireheart struggled to his paws. “I’d better go and see her.”

  “Okay, but if she’s asleep, don’t wake her. Clan business, whatever it is, can wait. And while Fireheart does that,” she added to Graystripe, “I’ll have a look at you.” She gave his ear a quick lick. “It’s good to have you back.”

  At least some cats would welcome Graystripe, Fireheart told himself as he padded across the clearing. The others would change their minds; Graystripe just needed time to prove that he would to be a loyal member of ThunderClan again.

  “Fireheart!” Sandstorm hailed him as he approached Bluestar’s den. “Mousefur and I are going out to hunt.”

  “Thanks,” Fireheart mewed gratefully.

  “Are you all right?” Sandstorm drew closer, her eyes narrowing. “I thought you’d be pleased—we won the battle, and Graystripe has come home.”

  Fireheart pressed his muzzle briefly against her flank. He felt a pang of relief that the ginger she-cat seemed to have forgiven him for going behind Bluestar’s back to arrange the talk with WindClan. “I know—but I’m not sure that all the cats will accept Graystripe. They’ll find it hard to forget that he loved a cat from another Clan, and then left us altogether.”

  Sandstorm shrugged. “That’s in the past. He’s here now, isn’t he? They’ll just have to put up with it.”

  “That’s not the point!” Pain and weariness made Fireheart more irritable than he intended. “We can’t afford quarrels just now. Can’t you see that?”

  Sandstorm stared at him, anger flaring in her pale green eyes. “Sorry, I’m sure,” she spat. “I was only trying to help.”

  “Sandstorm, don’t…” Fireheart began, realizing too late that he’d said the wrong thing. But Sandstorm had already turned away and was stalking back toward the warriors’ den, where Mousefur was waiting for her.