Fire and Ice (Warriors 3)

The bedraggled group struggled back to the camp. Brindleface was waiting outside the gorse tunnel. Bluestar stood beside her, her eyes narrowed against the driving snow. As soon as they spotted Fireheart’s party, they rushed forward to help. Bluestar scooped up Cloudkit and Brindleface grabbed the other

kit; then they turned and raced into the shelter of the camp with Fireheart and Sandstorm hurrying behind.

Once in the clearing, the three cats dropped their frozen bundles onto the ground. Fireheart shook the snow from his fur and looked down at Cloudkit, who was still stubbornly clinging to his catch.

Bluestar glared at the three kits. “What did you think you were doing out there? You know it’s against the warrior code for kits to hunt!”

Brindleface’s two kits shrank under their leader’s angry gaze, but Cloudkit looked back at her with round blue eyes. He dropped his vole and mewed, “The Clan needed fresh-kill, so we decided to catch some.”

Fireheart flinched at his boldness.

“Whose idea was it?” Bluestar demanded.

“Mine,” Cloudkit announced, his head still unbowed.

Bluestar fixed her eyes on the defiant little kit and yowled,

“You could have frozen to death out there!”

Cloudkit was startled by the anger in her voice and dropped into a crouch. “We did it for the Clan,” he mewed defensively.

Fireheart held his breath as he waited to see what Bluestar would do next. Cloudkit had broken the warrior code. Would Bluestar change her mind about letting him stay?

“Your intention,” Bluestar meowed slowly, “was good. But it was a foolish thing to do.” Fireheart felt a flicker of hope. Then he cringed as Cloudkit piped up again.

“I caught something, though.”

“I can see that,” replied Bluestar coldly. She gazed at all three kits. “I shall leave it to your mother to decide what to do with you. But I don’t want to find you doing anything like this again. Do you understand?”

Fireheart relaxed a little as Cloudkit nodded with the others. “Cloudkit, you may add your catch to the fresh-kill pile,” Bluestar added. “Then all three of you go straight to the nursery and get yourselves dry and warm.” Fireheart felt surprised. Was that a motherly tone he detected in the ThunderClan leader’s voice?

Brindleface’s kits stumbled toward the nursery, followed by their mother, while Cloudkit picked up his vole and trotted off toward the pile of fresh-kill. The proud tilt of his head made Fireheart’s paws prickle with worry, but as Bluestar watched him go, Fireheart thought he detected a glint of admiration in his leader’s eyes.

“Well done, you two,” she meowed, turning her attention to Sandstorm and Fireheart. “I’ll send Longtail out to retrieve the other search party. You should go to your den and try to warm up too!”

“Yes, Bluestar,” Fireheart answered. He turned to leave with Sandstorm but Bluestar called him back. “Fireheart,” she meowed, “I want to talk to you.” Her tone made Fireheart feel apprehensive. Perhaps he’d relaxed too soon.

“Cloudkit showed some fine hunting skills today,” Bluestar began. “But all the skill in the world is worthless if he can’t learn to obey the warrior code. It may be for his own safety now, but in the future the safety of the whole Clan will depend on it.”

Fireheart stared down at the ground. He knew Bluestar was right, but he couldn’t help feeling that she was expecting too much of the young kit. Cloudkit was still very young, and he’d been with the Clan only a short time. Fireheart swallowed a pang of resentment as he thought of how shamelessly Graystripe, a Clanborn cat, was disobeying the warrior code. He looked up at the Clan leader. “Yes, Bluestar,” he meowed. “I’ll make sure he learns.”

“Good.” Bluestar sounded satisfied. She turned away and padded to her den.

Fireheart made his way to the warriors’ den even though he no longer felt cold. Bluestar’s words had made him burn. He pushed his way inside, settled into his nest, and began to wash. He stayed in his nest all afternoon, brooding about Graystripe and Cloudkit. He knew that Bluestar was right. The pride and defiance he’d seen in the white kit’s eyes made Fireheart wonder if he really would be able to adjust to Clan life.

As evening came, hunger drew Fireheart from the den. He picked a thrush from the pile of fresh-kill and settled down by the nettle clump to eat it. It was dark now, and the snow had eased. Once his eyes had adjusted to the night, Fireheart could see the camp entrance clearly.

He spotted Graystripe as soon as he appeared, and watched him walk to the pile of fresh-kill. The gray warrior was carrying prey. Perhaps he’d just been hunting after all.

Graystripe dropped most of his catch onto the pile. He kept a large mouse for himself and took it to a sheltered spot near the camp wall. Fireheart’s brief hope faded. The distracted look in Graystripe’s eyes told him that his suspicions were right—Graystripe had been with Silverstream.

Fireheart got to his paws and padded into the den. He had no trouble falling into a deep sleep. And as he slept, he dreamed again.

The snowy forest spread out around him, glowing white beneath the cold moon. Fireheart stood on a tall, jagged rock. Beside him stood Cloudkit—a fully grown warrior, his thick white pelt rippling in the wind. Frost sparkled on the stone beneath their paws.

“Watch!” Fireheart hissed to Cloudkit. A wood mouse scuttled around the frozen roots of a tree. Cloudkit followed his gaze and leaped silently from the rock onto the forest floor. Fireheart watched the white tom prowl toward the prey. Suddenly he smelled a scent so warm and familiar, his fur quivered. He felt warm breath on his ear and turned sharply. Spottedleaf was standing beside him.

Her dappled pelt shone in the moonlight as she touched her soft pink nose to his. “Fireheart,” she whispered. “I have a warning for you from StarClan.” Her tone was somber and her eyes burned into his. “A battle is coming, Fireheart. Beware a warrior you cannot trust.”

The squeal of a mouse made Fireheart jump and look around. Cloudkit must have made his kill. He turned back to Spottedleaf but she had disappeared.

Fireheart woke up with a start and turned to the nest beside him. Graystripe was curled up, fast asleep, his nose tucked under his thick tail. Spottedleaf’s words echoed in Fireheart’s mind: “Beware a warrior you cannot trust!”

He shivered. The bitter cold of the forest seemed to cling to his fur even here, and the sweet fragrance of Spottedleaf lingered in his nostrils. Graystripe stirred beside him, muttering in his sleep, and Fireheart flinched. He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep again, but he stayed in his nest and watched his friend sleeping until the dawn light began to shine through the walls of the den.

CHAPTER 29

As the den grew lighter, Willowpelt woke up. Fireheart watched as she rose and stretched, then pushed her way out of the den. He gave a last glance at Graystripe’s sleeping form, and followed her.

“It’s stopped snowing,” he meowed, desperate to break the ghostly silence that enfolded the snowbound camp. His voice echoed around the clearing, and Willowpelt nodded.

A rustling noise accompanied the scent of Tigerclaw and Runningwind as they emerged from the den. They settled themselves beside Willowpelt to wash. Ready for the dawn patrol, Fireheart thought. He wondered if he should offer to join them, since he could do with a run through the woods, but part of him wanted to stay behind and keep an eye on Graystripe. Spottedleaf’s words still lay heavy in his heart. He couldn’t shake off the idea that Graystripe was the warrior he could not trust. Graystripe insisted his relationship with Silverstream didn’t change his loyalty to the Clan, but how could it not? He was breaking the warrior code just by seeing her!

Suddenly Tigerclaw lifted his head as though he had smelled something. Fireheart tensed. His ears twitched—he could hear paws crunching through the snow in the distance, moving fast. The breeze carried the scent of WindClan. The pawsteps grew louder. As one, the warriors stiffened—a cat was rushing toward them through the gorse tunnel. Tigerclaw arched his back and hissed as Onewhisker burst into the clearing.

The WindClan warrior skidded to a halt in front of them, his eyes filled with dread. “ShadowClan and RiverClan!” he gasped. “They’re attacking our camp! We’re outnumbered and fighting for our lives. Tallstar refuses to be driven off this t

ime. You must help or my Clan will be wiped out!”

Bluestar bounded out of her den. All eyes turned from Onewhisker to her. “I heard,” she meowed. Without mounting the Highrock, the ThunderClan leader gave the yowl she used to call the Clan together. Onewhisker’s fear-scent filled the clearing as he watched the cats emerge into the morning light.

As soon as the Clan had gathered, Bluestar began. “There’s no time to waste. It’s as we feared—ShadowClan and RiverClan have joined together, and now they’re attacking the WindClan camp. We must help them.” She paused and looked around at the faces staring back at her in dismay. Onewhisker stood beside her, listening silently with wide, hopeful eyes.

Fireheart was appalled. After the rogue cats had been discovered, he’d thought Nightstar could be trusted. Now it seemed the ShadowClan leader had broken the warrior code after all by uniting with RiverClan to drive WindClan from their home yet again.

“But we are leaf-bare–weak!” protested Patchpelt. “We’ve taken a risk for WindClan once before. Let them take care of themselves this time.” A few murmurs of agreement rose from the elders and queens.

It was Tigerclaw who answered him, stepping forward to stand beside Bluestar. “You’re right to be cautious, Patchpelt. But if ShadowClan and RiverClan have united, it is only a matter of time before they turn on us. It’s better we fight now, with WindClan, than later, alone!”

Bluestar looked at Patchpelt, who closed his eyes and lifted his tail, accepting Tigerclaw’s words.

Yellowfang pushed her way forward and spoke quietly to the leader. “I think you should remain behind in camp, Bluestar. The fever from the greencough may have gone, but you’ll still be weak.” The two cats exchanged a look that Fireheart understood with a jolt. Bluestar was on her ninth and final life. For the sake of the Clan, she could not afford to risk it in battle.

Bluestar nodded briskly. “Tigerclaw, I want you to organize two parties, one to head the attack, one to back it up. We need to get there as fast as we can!”