The Darkest Hour (Warriors 2)

“Hey, Firestar!” A weak voice made Firestar turn to see his old friend Onewhisker. The brown tabby warrior was lying on his side with deep wounds to his throat and shoulder. Barkface, the WindClan medicine cat, was pressing cobwebs to them, but the blood still oozed out sluggishly.

“Onewhisker…” Firestar trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Onewhisker’s eyes were bright with pain. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” He grunted. “You should have seen the other cat.”

“I wish we’d come in time,” Firestar meowed.

“I wish you had, too. Look over there.”

Onewhisker turned his head, and Barkface snapped, “Keep still!”

Firestar followed the injured warrior’s gaze. Morningflower, the tortoiseshell queen who had been wailing aloud, was crouched over the motionless body of another cat. A small body, with torn ginger-and-white fur.

“No…” Firestar’s throat closed so he had to choke out the words. “Not Gorsepaw.”

“Tigerstar killed him.” Onewhisker’s voice was tight with rage. “He pinned him down in the center of the clearing, with his warriors around him so none of us could get close enough to stop him. He…he said he was going to kill him to show the rest of us what we could expect if we refused to join him.”

Firestar closed his eyes, unable to bear the bloodstained scene in front of him, yet all he could see was an image of the massive leader of TigerClan, paws holding down the helpless apprentice while he challenged the WindClan warriors. A shiver ran through him. He thought back to the time that he and Graystripe had traveled to find WindClan and bring them home after ShadowClan had driven them into exile. Firestar had carried Gorsepaw, then a tiny kit, back across the Thunderpath.

All of that was wasted now, thanks to Tigerstar. Firestar could not help wondering if Tigerstar had deliberately chosen Gorsepaw because he knew of Firestar’s bond with the young apprentice.

Opening his eyes, Firestar left Onewhisker and padded softly over to Morningflower, touching her shoulder with his nose to draw her attention.

She looked up, her beautiful eyes dulled with grief. “Firestar,” she whispered. “I didn’t ever think you’d saved my son for this. What have StarClan done to us?”

Firestar crouched down beside Morningflower, pressing himself against her side to comfort her, and touched his nose to Gorsepaw’s fur. “He was growing into a fine warrior,” he murmured.

The sound of another cat roused him; he looked up to see Graystripe. His friend bowed his head, too, and touched Gorsepaw’s fur, mewing a few words of comfort to Morningflower.

“Firestar, what do you want us to do?” he asked, raising his head again. “We can’t just leave them like this.”

With a last gentle lick of Morningflower’s ear, Firestar stood up and moved away with his friend. “Take two or three cats on a patrol,” he ordered. “One or two of WindClan, too, if any of them are fit. They’ll know their boundaries better than us. Check to make sure that there are no TigerClan warriors still lurking around. If you find any, you know what to do—chase them off, or kill them if you have to. And bring back as much fresh-kill as you can. WindClan need to eat, and they’re not capable of hunting for themselves.”

“Right,” meowed Graystripe. He called Sandstorm, Cloudtail, and Dustpelt, and checked with Tallstar for permission to patrol in his territory. Tallstar agreed gratefully, and ordered Webfoot, who had escaped with torn fur and scratches, to go with them and show them the best places for prey.

“We need to talk,” the WindClan leader mewed to Firestar as he watched the patrol leave. “Tigerstar left a message for you.”

Firestar pricked his ears. “A message?”

“He wants both of us to meet him tomorrow at Fourtrees, at sunhigh,” Tallstar replied. “He says he’s tired of waiting. He wants our decision about whether we’ll join TigerClan or not…and he’s shown us what he’ll do if we refuse.”

He flicked his tail toward the wounded warriors and the limp body of the dead apprentice, all his grief contained in the simple gesture.

Firestar met his gaze, and the two leaders shared a long look of understanding.

“I’d rather die than join Tigerstar’s Clan,” Firestar declared at last.

“So would I,” agreed Tallstar. “And I’m glad to hear you say that. Bluestar was right about you all along. Many cats thought you were too young and inexperienced when she made you her deputy, but you’re showing your quality now. The forest needs cats like you.”

Firestar bowed his head, humbled by the unexpected praise. “So—we’ll meet tomorrow at Fourtrees,” he meowed.

Tallstar nodded gravely. “Take my advice, Firestar, and bring some of your warriors with you. When we refuse to join Tigerstar, I don’t imagine he’ll let us walk away without a fight.”

Firestar felt chilled to the tip of his tail. He could see that the older cat was right. “Then if we have to, we’ll fight together?”

“Together,” Tallstar promised. “Our Clans will join together like a lion to fight the tiger who prowls our forest.”

Firestar stared at him in amazement. Tallstar could not know of Bluestar’s prophecy, nor of Firestar’s vision by the stream. And yet he had echoed the words of the prophecy.

Four will become two; lion and tiger will join in battle. Had StarClan s p o k en to him as well? Firestar knew that the WindClan leader would not say—what passed between a Clan leader and the spirits of their warrior ancestors was for no other ears. But this echo reminded Firestar that they were leaders together, with the power of two mighty Clans behind them.

Gazing steadily at the noble black-and-white cat, Firestar meowed, “I swear by StarClan that my Clan will be the friend of yours, to fight this evil side by side.”

“I swear it too,” Tallstar replied solemnly.

Firestar raised his head, tasting the air, which still carried a faint trace of the raiding cats. He knew that this vow would run through their blood like cold fire until Tigerstar had been driven from the forest—or until they lost their ninth lives trying.

CHAPTER 20

The sun had begun to set over the river, turning the water to a moving sheet of flame and sending a comforting warmth through Firestar’s fur. He stood on the top of Sunningrocks, looking out over RiverClan territory.

“I wonder what tomorrow will bring,” he murmured.

Beside him, Sandstorm shook her head, not replying in words but pressing her warm flank close to him. After their return from the devastated WindClan camp, Firestar had asked the pale ginger warrior to patrol with him. He had felt the need to get away from the rest of his Clan for a while to prepare himself for the meeting with Tigerstar. Yet he had not wanted to be completely alone, and Sandstorm’s presence comforted him.

They had skirted Snakerocks and followed the Thunderpath up to the border with ShadowClan to renew the scent markings as far as Fourtrees; finally they returned along the RiverClan border.

There was no sign of TigerClan intruders. The borders were secure, and yet Firestar knew that if they had to fight TigerClan the battle would be about so much more than borders. It would be the climax of his conflict with Tigerstar, which had lasted almost since he had first set paw in the forest.

Firestar lingered on the rocks, savoring the comfort of being alone with Sandstorm. “Tigerstar is determined to make himself ruler of the whole forest,” he meowed. “We must expect a battle.”

“And ThunderClan will bear the worst of it,” meowed Sandstorm. “How many warriors can WindClan offer us after today?”

Her voice was troubled, but Firestar knew that, with or without WindClan, every cat in ThunderClan would fight beside him bravely.

The fiery light was dying. Firestar turned to gaze across his beloved forest. A single star glittered in the violet sky.

Is that you, Bluestar? Firestar asked silently. Are you still watching over us?

Fervently he hoped that his former leader was still protecting the Clan she

loved. If they survived the next day’s meeting with Tigerstar, and managed to stay free from his quest for absolute power, it would be because StarClan knew that the forest needed four Clans.

Everything was still and silent. There was no breeze to ruffle the cats’ fur, no sound of prey scuffling among the rocks. Firestar felt as if the whole forest were holding its breath, waiting for the coming dawn.

“I love you, Sandstorm,” he murmured, pushing his muzzle against her side.

Sandstorm turned her head to meet his gaze, her green eyes glowing. “I love you, too,” she replied. “And I know that you’ll bring us through tomorrow, whatever happens.”

Firestar wished her could share her conviction. But he let himself be soothed by her trust in him. “We need to go and rest,” he mewed.

The chill of night was gathering by the time they reached the ravine. Frost already sparkled on the grass and the surface of the rocks. As Firestar emerged from the gorse tunnel, a white shape loomed out of the darkness.

“I was starting to worry about you,” Whitestorm meowed. “I thought you might have run into trouble.”

“No, we’re fine,” Firestar replied. “There isn’t even a mouse stirring out there.”