A Dangerous Path (Warriors 4)

But it seemed that luck—or the favor of StarClan—was on Fireheart’s side. With their jaws full of prey, the WindClan cats were unable to pick up his ThunderClan scent, and they passed within a couple of tail-lengths of him. Then Gorsepaw, who was struggling with a rabbit almost as big as he was, stopped to adjust his grip on it and fell behind the others.

Fireheart spotted his chance. “Gorsepaw!”

The young cat raised his head, ears pricked.

“Over here, in the bracken.”

Gorsepaw turned, and his eyes stretched wide when he saw Fireheart poking his head out from the rusty fronds. His mouth opened, but Fireheart urgently signaled to him to keep silent.

“Listen, Gorsepaw,” he mewed. “I want you to tell Onewhisker I’m here, but don’t let Mudclaw know, okay?” The apprentice hesitated, looking troubled, and Fireheart added urgently, “I have to talk to him. It’s important for both our Clans. You’ve got to trust me.”

The desperation in his tone reached Gorsepaw, who paused a moment longer and then gave a quick nod. “All right, Fireheart. Wait here.”

He picked up his rabbit again and hurried to catch up to the two warriors. Fireheart crept deeper into the bracken and crouched there, waiting. Before long he heard another cat approach his hiding place and murmur, “Fireheart? Is that you?”

To his relief, Fireheart recognized Onewhisker’s voice. He peered warily out of the shelter of the bracken, and straightened up when he saw that his friend was alone.

“Thank StarClan!” he exclaimed. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“This had better be good, Fireheart,” Onewhisker meowed. He gave Fireheart a hard stare, with no trace of his usual friendliness. “It took me a while to get rid of Mudclaw. If he knew you were on our territory, you’d be crowfood, and you know it.” He padded up to Fireheart. “I’m sticking my neck out for you,” he growled. “I hope it’s worth it.”

“It is, I promise. I’ve come to tell you something. I’ve got to speak to Tallstar. It’s important,” he added, as Onewhisker went on staring at him.

For a few heartbeats he was afraid that his friend was going to refuse, or even attack him and drive him off WindClan territory.

Then Onewhisker spoke, and to Fireheart’s relief he sounded less hostile, as if he were beginning to realize the urgency of Fireheart’s request. “What’s it all about? Tallstar will have my fur off if I take a ThunderClan cat into camp without a very good reason.”

“I can’t tell you, Onewhisker. I can’t tell any cat except Tallstar. But believe me, it’s for the good of both our Clans.”

Once again Onewhisker hesitated. “I wouldn’t do this for any cat but you, Fireheart,” he meowed at last. Spinning around, he beckoned with his tail and bounded off across the moor.

Fireheart sprang after him. Onewhisker halted at the top of the slope, looking down into the WindClan camp. The rays of the dying sun cast long shadows over the gorse bushes that lined the sides of the hollow. As Fireheart and Onewhisker stood there, a patrol slipped past them. Fireheart was conscious of their stares, where curiosity mingled with antagonism.

“Come on,” meowed Onewhisker. He led the way through the tough stems of gorse until they came to a sandy clearing in the middle of the bushes.

As he emerged through a narrow gap in the thorns, Fireheart saw Tallstar crouched at one side of the clearing near a pile of fresh-kill. More WindClan warriors clustered around him. It was the Clan deputy, Deadfoot, who looked up first and then nudged his leader, mewing something rapidly into his ear.

Tallstar rose and padded across the clearing to where Fireheart and Onewhisker waited. Deadfoot hovered at his shoulder, and other cats followed close behind. Fireheart recognized Barkface, the WindClan medicine cat, and Mudclaw, his lips drawn back in a snarl.

“Well, Onewhisker.” Tallstar’s voice was level, giving nothing away. “Why have you brought Fireheart here?”

Onewhisker dipped his head. “He says he has to talk to you.”

“And that means he can just stroll into our camp?” Mudclaw spat. “He’s from an enemy Clan!”

Tallstar waved his tail at Mudclaw, a sign for silence, while his eyes looked deep into Fireheart’s. “I’m here,” he mewed simply. “Talk.”

Fireheart glanced around him. The crowd was growing larger, as more WindClan cats heard about the intruder in their midst and came out to see what was going on. “What I have to say is not for all ears, Tallstar,” he stammered.

For a heartbeat he thought he heard a faint growl in Tallstar’s throat, but then the WindClan leader nodded slowly. “Very well. We will go to my den. Deadfoot, you come with us—and you, Onewhisker.” Turning, he stalked toward the rock at the far end of the clearing, his long tail held high, while the two warriors herded Fireheart after him.

The WindClan leader’s den was sheltered under a deep overhang in the rock, on the side away from the main camp. Tallstar entered and made himself comfortable in a nest of heather, facing Fireheart. “Well?” he meowed.

Shadows were gathering in the den, and Fireheart could feel rather than see the shapes of the cats who guarded him. Tension crackled between them, as if they were waiting for the tiniest excuse to attack him. During his journey across the moor he had thought hard about what he would say, but he still didn’t know whether he would manage to convince Tallstar that there was a way to avoid Bluestar’s attack.

“You know that Bluestar is unhappy about the loss of prey,” Fireheart began.

Instantly the fur on the WindClan leader’s shoulders began to bristle. “WindClan did not steal prey from ThunderClan!” he snapped.

“We’ve found scattered remains too,” Deadfoot asserted, limping forward and thrusting his muzzle close to Fireheart’s. “Are you sure ThunderClan haven’t been stealing prey from us?”

Fireheart forced himself not to flinch. “No!” he protested. “I don’t believe any cats have stolen prey.”

“What happened to it, then?” Onewhisker asked.

“I think there’s a dog living in the forest. We’ve smelled it, and found its dung.”

“A dog!” Onewhisker echoed. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “What, loose from its Twolegs?”

“I’m certain of it,” Fireheart meowed.

“Could be…” mewed Tallstar. To Fireheart’s relief, the fur on his shoulders was lying flat again. “We’ve certainly scented dog in our territory recently, but then, they’re always up here with their Twolegs.” Sounding more confident, he went on: “Yes, it could be a dog killing the rabbits. I’ll see that our patrols keep a lookout.”

“But you didn’t come all this way to tell us that,” Deadfoot meowed. “So what’s on your mind, Fireheart?”

Fireheart took a deep breath. He didn’t want to betray Bluestar by telling Tallstar of her plans to attack—but he wanted to suggest to the WindClan leader that future battle could be avoided if he would just talk to Bluestar about the prey theft.

“I can’t convince Bluestar about the dog,” he explained. “She feels threatened by WindClan, and sooner or later this will all end in battle unless we can do something.” He could not tell the WindClan warriors how much sooner the battle would take place if he failed now. “Cats will be injured—killed, even—for nothing.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?” Tallstar asked testily. “She’s your leader, Fireheart. This is your problem.”

Fireheart dared to take a couple of steps toward the WindClan leader. “I’ve come to ask you to hold a meeting with Bluestar. If you could discuss things in private, you might be able to make peace.”

“Bluestar wants a meeting?” It was Deadfoot who spoke, sounding disbelieving. “Last time we saw her, she looked as if she would like to claw our throats out.”

“This isn’t Bluestar’s idea—it’s mine,” Fireheart confessed.

All three WindClan cats stared at him. Finally it was Onewhisker who broke the silence. “Does that mean you’re going behind your leader

’s back?”

“It’s for the good of both our Clans,” he insisted.

He half expected to be chased out of the camp, but to his relief Tallstar was looking thoughtful. “I’d certainly rather talk than fight,” the leader meowed, “but how are we going to arrange it? How willing to listen will she be if she knows that you have talked to us first, without her knowledge?” Not waiting for Fireheart to reply, he went on: “Perhaps it would be best if I sent a messenger to ask her to meet me at Fourtrees—but can you guarantee the safety of a WindClan cat on ThunderClan territory?”

Fireheart was silent, which was answer in itself.