Forest of Secrets (Warriors 6)

“What next?” Fireheart prompted gently.

“Redtail spat at Oakheart. He asked him if RiverClan warriors were unable to fight their own battles. Redtail was brave,” Ravenpaw added. “The RiverClan deputy was twice his size. And then…then Oakheart said a strange thing. He told Redtail, ‘No ThunderClan cat will ever harm that warrior.’”

“What?” Graystripe narrowed his eyes until they were yellow slits. “That doesn’t make sense. Are you sure you heard him right?”

“Positive,” insisted Ravenpaw.

“But the Clans fight all the time,” meowed Fireheart. “What’s so special about Stonefur?”

“I don’t know.” Ravenpaw shrugged, shying away from their searching questions.

“So what did Redtail do after Oakheart said that?” asked Graystripe.

Ravenpaw’s ears pricked up and his eyes widened. “He flew at Oakheart. He bowled him right off his paws and underneath a rocky overhang. I…I couldn’t see them, though I could hear them snarling. And then I heard a rumbling sound, and the rock collapsed on top of them!” He stopped, shivering.

“Please go on,” Fireheart mewed. He hated putting Ravenpaw through this, but he had to know the truth.

“I heard a screech from Oakheart and I saw his tail sticking out from under the rocks.” Ravenpaw closed his eyes, as if he wanted to shut out the sight, and then opened them again. “Just then I heard Tigerclaw behind me. He ordered me to go back to the camp, but I’d only gone a little way when I realized I had no idea if Redtail was okay after the rockfall. So I crept back, past all the RiverClan warriors that were running away. And when I got to the rocks, Redtail was charging out of the dust. His tail was straight up and his fur stood on end, but he was all right, not a scratch on him that I could see. And he ran straight into Tigerclaw, who was in the shadows.”

“And was that when—” Graystripe began.

“Yes.” Ravenpaw’s claws flexed as if he was imagining himself back in the battle. “Tigerclaw grabbed Redtail and pinned him down. Redtail struggled, but he couldn’t break free. And…” Ravenpaw swallowed, and stared at the floor. “Tigerclaw sank his teeth into Redtail’s throat, and it was all over.” He dropped his chin onto his paws.

Fireheart moved closer to him, and pressed his body against Ravenpaw’s flank. “So Oakheart died when the rocks fell on him. It was an accident,” he murmured. “No cat killed him.”

“That still doesn’t prove that Tigerclaw killed Redtail,” Graystripe pointed out. “I don’t see that any of this helps us at all.”

For a heartbeat Fireheart stared at him, discouraged. Then his eyes widened and he sat up, paws tingling with excitement. “Yes, it does. If we can prove the rockfall story, it shows that Tigerclaw was lying when he said Oakheart killed Redtail, and when he claimed to have killed Oakheart in revenge.”

“Just a minute,” Graystripe interrupted. “Ravenpaw, at the Gathering you didn’t say anything about falling rocks. You made it sound as if Redtail killed Oakheart.”

“Did I?” Ravenpaw blinked, and struggled to focus on Graystripe. “I didn’t mean to. This is what really happened, I promise.”

“And that’s why Bluestar wouldn’t listen to us,” Fireheart went on excitedly. “She couldn’t believe that Redtail would have killed another deputy. But Redtail didn’t kill him. Bluestar will have to take us seriously now!”

Fireheart’s brain was whirling with everything they had discovered. He wanted to ask Ravenpaw more questions, but he could smell the fear-scent on his friend, and saw the old haunted look in his eyes, as if telling his story had brought back all his unhappy memories of ThunderClan. “Is there any more you can tell us, Ravenpaw?” he mewed gently.

Ravenpaw shook his head.

“This means so much to the Clan,” Fireheart told him. “Hopefully now we stand a chance of convincing Bluestar that Tigerclaw is dangerous.”

“If she listens,” Graystripe pointed out. “It’s a pity you told her Ravenpaw’s first story,” he added to Fireheart. “Now he’s changed everything, she won’t know what to believe.”

“But he hasn’t changed everything,” Fireheart protested, as Ravenpaw flinched at Graystripe’s irritable tone. “We misunderstood, that’s all. I’ll convince Bluestar somehow,” he added. “At least we know the truth now.”

The black cat looked a little happier, but Fireheart could see that he didn’t want to think about the past anymore. He settled beside Ravenpaw, purring encouragement, and for a short while the three cats shared tongues.

Then Fireheart pushed himself to his paws. “It’s time we were on our way,” he meowed.

“Take care,” Ravenpaw mewed. “And watch out for Tigerclaw.”

“Don’t worry,” Fireheart assured him. “You’ve given us what we need to deal with him.” With Graystripe behind him, he slid under the door and ventured out into the snow.

“It’s freezing out here!” Graystripe grumbled as they bounded down to the fence at the edge of the Twoleg farm. “We should have taken a couple more of those mice to feed the Clan,” he added.

“Yeah, right,” Fireheart retorted. “And what would you tell Tigerclaw when he asked you where you found such fat mice in this weather?”

The moon was close to setting, and soon the sky would begin to pale toward dawn. The chill of the snow soon penetrated Fireheart’s winter-thick fur, even colder after the warmth of the barn. His legs were aching with weariness; it had been a long night, and they still had to cross WindClan’s territory before they could rest in their own camp. Fireheart could not stop thinking about what Ravenpaw had told them. He was sure that his friend was telling the truth, but it would be hard to convince the rest of the Clan. Bluestar had already refused to believe Ravenpaw’s original story.

Yet that was when Fireheart thought Redtail had killed Oakheart. Bluestar could not accept that Redtail would kill another warrior unnecessarily. Now Fireheart understood the real story, that Oakheart had died by accident…. But how could Fireheart accuse Tigerclaw again unless he had something to back up what Ravenpaw had told him?

“The RiverClan cats would know,” he realized aloud, pausing under a rocky outcrop on the moorland slope, where the snow was not so thick.

“What?” meowed Graystripe, padding up to him to share the shelter. “Know what?”

“How Oakheart died,” Fireheart replied. “They must have seen Oakheart’s body. They would be able to tell us whether he died from a rockfall, and not a death blow from a warrior.”

“Yes, the marks on his body would prove it,” agreed Gra

ystripe.

“And they might know what Oakheart meant when he said that no ThunderClan cat should attack Stonefur,” Fireheart added. “We need to speak to a RiverClan warrior who took part in the battle, maybe Stonefur himself.”

“But you can’t just walk into the RiverClan camp and ask,” Graystripe protested. “Think of how tense it was at the Gathering—it’s too soon after the battle.”

“I know one RiverClan warrior who would welcome you,” Fireheart murmured.

“If you mean Silverstream, yes, I could ask her,” Graystripe agreed. “Now, can we please get back to the camp before my paws freeze completely?”

The two cats padded onward, more slowly now as weariness made their limbs heavy. They were within sight of Fourtrees when they spotted three other cats climbing the hillside. The breeze carried the scent of a WindClan patrol to Fireheart. Not wanting to explain their presence in WindClan territory, he looked swiftly around for cover, but the snow stretched smoothly on all sides, with no rocks or bushes nearby. And it was clear that the WindClan cats had already seen them, as they changed direction to meet them.

Fireheart recognized the familiar uneven gait of the Clan deputy, Deadfoot, with the tabby warrior Tornear, and his apprentice, Runningpaw.

“Hello, Fireheart,” called Deadfoot, limping up with a puzzled look in his eyes. “You’re a long way from home.”

“Er…yes,” Fireheart admitted, dipping his head respectfully. “We just…we picked up a ShadowClan scent trail, and it led us up here.”

“ShadowClan on our territory!” Deadfoot’s fur began to bristle.

“I reckon it was an old scent,” Graystripe put in hastily. “Nothing to worry about. We’re sorry we crossed your border.”

“You’re welcome here,” meowed Tornear. “The other Clans would have destroyed us in the last battle if your Clan hadn’t helped. Now we’re sure they’ll keep away. They know they have ThunderClan to reckon with.”

Fireheart felt embarrassed at Tornear’s praise. He and Graystripe had helped the WindClan cats in the past, but this time he was uncomfortable with the thought that any cats from WindClan had seen them on their territory. “We’d best be getting back,” he muttered. “Everything seems quiet enough up here.”