The Darkest Hour (Warriors 2)

He found himself in a long, narrow passage carved out of the sandy soil. Thick darkness engulfed him after the first few tail-lengths. There was a lingering scent of fox, but it was faint and stale, as if the original occupant of the hole were long gone. Stronger by far was the fear scent rising from the darkness, the scent of cats who had given up all hope.

The passage led steadily downward. Before he reached the end of it, Firestar heard the sound of scuffling and surprised mews. One of the apprentices called out, “Father? Is it really you?”

A moment later Firestar could no longer feel his fur brushing the passage walls on either side. His next step brought him up against a cat’s haunches; he recognized Graystripe by his scent. The scent of the two apprentices was stronger than ever, and with a jolt of relief Firestar recognized another cat.

“Mistyfoot!” he exclaimed. “Thank StarClan we’ve found you.”

“Is that Firestar?” Mistyfoot’s voice was hoarse, close to his ear. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story,” Firestar replied. “I’ll tell you everything, but first we have to get out of here. Graystripe, are you ready?”

A tense mew of agreement came from his friend. Though Firestar couldn’t see him, he could picture him huddled close to Featherpaw and Stormpaw.

“Let’s go,” Firestar meowed, turning with difficulty in the narrow mouth of the underground den. “Mistyfoot, we’re going to take you all back to ThunderClan with us.” Remembering how weak Stonefur and the apprentices had looked, he added, “Can you make it that far?”

“Once I’m out of this hole I can make it anywhere,” Mistyfoot mewed determinedly.

“So can we,” added Featherpaw.

“That’s great. Mistyfoot, I’m so sorry, but we couldn’t rescue Stonefur…” Firestar began, looking for words to tell the she-cat about her brother’s death.

“I already know,” meowed Mistyfoot, her voice ragged with grief. “The apprentices told me. They say he died bravely.”

“Very bravely. All StarClan will honor him.” Firestar pushed his muzzle into Mistyfoot’s fur, a gesture of comfort. “Come on. We’ll make sure he didn’t die for nothing. Tigerstar will not hurt you as well.”

His heart thudding with fear, Firestar scrabbled his way back up the tunnel. At the top he paused to check that it was safe to emerge, then led the way into the open. He felt as if the rancid stench of the prison would cling to his fur forever. Ravenpaw took his place at the back of the group, keeping a lookout as they crept down the slope.

Silent as shadows, the cats followed the path through the reeds until they came to the clearing again. It was empty, the Bonehill casting its ominous shadow as far as the body of Stonefur lying still in the moonlight.

Mistyfoot went over to her brother and bent her head to nose his fur. Outside the darkness of her prison, Firestar saw that she was as skinny and unkempt as the dead warrior, every rib showing, her fur matted and her eyes dull with suffering.

“St o n e f u r, St o n e f u r,” she murmured. “What will I do without you?”

Firestar’s fur bristled with tension as he listened for the sound of approaching cats, but he forced himself to give Mistyfoot time to mourn. They could not take Stonefur’s body with them for the proper warrior’s vigil; this was Mistyfoot’s last farewell.

Stormpaw, who had been Stonefur’s apprentice, approached as well. He touched his nose to his mentor’s head before padding back to stand beside his father.

Firestar could not help remembering Bluestar, and how much she had loved her lost kits. Had she been here, he wondered, to lead her son to StarClan? She and Stonefur had both died bravely, their cruel deaths caused by Tigerstar’s evil ambition. Every hair on Firestar’s pelt pricked with his longing to confront the dark tabby warrior and make him pay for his crimes.

“Firestar, we have to go,” Graystripe hissed, the whites of his eyes bright in the half-light.

His words roused Mistyfoot. Before Firestar could reply, she raised her head, gave Stonefur one last, loving look, and padded over to where the others were waiting for her.

Firestar set a brisk pace back toward the river, feeling himself relax as the stench of the Bonehill and the scattered prey began to fade. Graystripe helped the two apprentices along, encouraging them with gentle nudges and mews. Mistyfoot kept up bravely, limping on paws cracked and sore after her imprisonment, while Ravenpaw stayed at the rear, his ears tilted back for the sounds of pursuit.

The night was silent except for the murmur of water, and by the time the river came in sight they had not encountered any other cats. Turning downstream toward the stepping-stones, Firestar dared to hope that they would escape undetected.

Then a distant yowling sounded through the reeds and the six cats froze in their tracks.

“The prisoners have escaped!”

CHAPTER 17

“Quick—the stepping-stones!” Firestar hissed.

Alone, the ThunderClan cats could have raced easily out of danger, but none of them would abandon the prisoners. Graystripe fell back to join Ravenpaw as rearguard, while Firestar tried to urge on the RiverClan cats.

“You’ll have to leave us!” Mistyfoot gasped. “There’s no sense in all of us being captured.”

“Never!” snarled Graystripe. “We’re all in this together.”

By now they were bounding alongside the river, the RiverClan cats stumbling in their efforts to keep up. Firestar could already see the ripples in the water where the current was broken by the stepping-stones. But the yowling behind them grew louder, and when he turned his head to draw in a rapid gulp of air he could taste the scent of ShadowClan.

“Great StarClan!” he whispered. “They’re catching up.”

None of the pursuing cats had appeared yet by the time they reached the stepping-stones. Firestar leaped onto the first stone, then the second, and gestured with his tail for Mistyfoot to follow.

“Hurry!” he urged.

Mistyfoot bent her hind legs and leaped, staggering as her paws hit the slippery surface, but managing to keep her balance. The two apprentices came next. Firestar stopped when he was halfway across and waited, the river water lapping his paws, while the other cats leaped out behind him.

Because the RiverClan cats were so weak they were agonizingly slow, bracing themselves for each leap. Mistyfoot reached him first, and Firestar edged to the side of the stone to let her go past. The two apprentices were still some way behind. Firestar’s claws scraped the rough stone in his impatience, though he tried to stay calm. When the first dark shapes of pursuing cats slipped out of the reeds he forced himself to say nothing. Stormpaw was just nerving himself to leap; Firestar locked his gaze with the younger cat’s. “Come on,” he mewed steadily. “You’re doing fine.”

But as her brother gathered himself, Featherpaw, a couple of stones behind him, spotted the ShadowClan warriors racing along the riverbank. “They’re coming!” she yowled.

Caught off balance, Stormpaw misjudged the distance and fell short. His forepaws landed on the stone, but his hindquarters splashed into the river. The current bubbled around him, dragging at his thick fur as he scrabbled to pull himself to safety.

“I’m slipping!” He gasped. “I can’t hold on!”

Firestar jumped back onto the previous stone, barely managing to balance in the space left by Stormpaw’s clawing forepaws. He fastened his teeth in the apprentice’s scruff just as the younger cat lost his grip and slid backward into the river. For a few heartbeats Firestar felt his own paws sliding on the smooth rock under Stormpaw’s weight and the force of the current.

Then he spotted Graystripe swimming up behind his son, paws thrusting strongly through the icy water. The gray warrior shoved his shoulder underneath Stormpaw and heaved him upward. Firestar managed to haul the apprentice out to crouch shivering on the rock.

Glancing toward the RiverClan shore, Firestar saw Ravenpaw urging Featherpaw onto the next stone, getting his own paws wet to

leave her space to stand on the driest part.

Behind them, the pursuing cats had reached the first stone. Blackfoot was in the lead, flanked by Jaggedtooth and three or four others—too many to fight, Firestar realized.

“Come on!” he yowled. “Hurry!” He nudged the shivering Stormpaw. “Keep going—follow Mistyfoot!”

Blackfoot crouched, ready to spring, his eyes fixed on the stepping-stone where Ravenpaw had put himself between Featherpaw and the ShadowClan warrior. Firestar’s belly clenched. The loner was brave, but his training days were far behind him and he would be no match for a seasoned warrior like Tigerstar’s deputy.

Graystripe began swimming back toward Ravenpaw. A wild screech split the air as the rest of the ShadowClan warriors spread along the bank in a menacing line.

“Keep going!” Firestar gasped to Mistyfoot. “Take Stormpaw with you. I’m going back.”

But before he could move, a fierce battle yowl went up from the forest on the ThunderClan side of the river. Firestar saw three shapes streaking out of the undergrowth: Cloudtail, with Sandstorm and Thornclaw just behind him.

“Thank StarClan—” he began, breaking off as Cloudtail leaped toward the river, eyes blazing and claws extended. He was heading straight for Mistyfoot, who was just jumping from the last stone onto the bank.

Firestar raced across the remaining stones to intercept the white warrior, barrelling into his side and knocking him off his paws. “Mouse-brain!” he snapped. “The enemy is back there.”

He jerked his head toward the middle of the river, where Ravenpaw and Graystripe were tussling with Blackfoot on the central stone. Stormpaw was nerving himself for the last leap onto the bank, while Featherpaw huddled two or three stones farther back. Sandstorm and Thornclaw launched themselves across the stones to face the ShadowClan warriors, the two apprentices cowering at the edge of their stones to let them pass.

Muttering “Sorry” to Mistyfoot, Cloudtail sprang after them. Firestar bunched his muscles to follow, but before he leaped he saw Blackfoot slip off the stone to be swept away in the current. He ducked briefly below the surface of the water, then reappeared swimming clumsily back toward the RiverClan side, his ears flat against his head. The three ThunderClan warriors stood crowded together on one stone, digging in their claws and growling fiercely at the remaining pursuers.