“Yes, thanks,” Fireheart replied.
Graystripe didn’t look up.
“Bluestar said you could go to the Gathering,” Fireheart told Graystripe.
“I know,” Graystripe answered, still chewing.
“Are you going?” Fireheart turned to Runningwind.
“You bet! I wouldn’t miss this one for anything!”
Fireheart padded on and found a quiet spot at the edge of the clearing. Longtail’s words echoed in his head. Would the Clan ever accept the little white kit? Fireheart closed his eyes and began to wash himself.
As he turned to lick his side, his whiskers brushed against something. He opened his eyes to find Sandpaw standing beside him. Her orange pelt glowed silver beneath the rising moon. “Thought you might like some company,” she mewed. She sat down and began to wash Fireheart’s back with long, soothing strokes.
Through half-closed eyes, Fireheart caught a glimpse of Dustpaw staring from outside the apprentices’ den, unable to disguise his envy and amazement. Dustpaw wasn’t the only one surprised by Sandpaw’s gesture—Fireheart hadn’t expected such friendliness from the fiery young she-cat, but her warmth was welcome, and he wasn’t going to question it. “Are you going to the Gathering?” he asked.
Sandpaw paused. “Yes. You?”
“Yes. I think Bluestar’s going to challenge Crookedstar and Nightstar about their hunting.” He waited for Sandpaw to reply, but she was staring up at the darkening sky.
“I wish I were going as a warrior,” she murmured. Fireheart tensed, but for once there was no hint of jealousy or bitterness in her mew.
Fireheart felt awkward. He knew his training had started after Sandpaw’s, and he had been a warrior for more than two moons already. “It can’t be long till Bluestar gives you your warrior name,” he meowed, trying to sound encouraging.
“Why do you think it’s taking so long?” Sandpaw asked, turning her pale green eyes on Fireheart.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Bluestar’s been ill, and there’s RiverClan and ShadowClan causing trouble. I guess she’s got other things on her mind.”
“You’d think she’d need warriors more than ever!” meowed Sandpaw.
Fireheart felt a stab of sympathy. “I suppose she’s just waiting for the…the right time.” He knew it didn’t sound very helpful, but it was all he could think to say.
“Maybe by newleaf.” Sandpaw sighed. “When do you think you’ll get a new apprentice?”
“Bluestar hasn’t said anything yet.”
“Perhaps she’ll give you Cloudkit when he’s old enough.”
“I hope so.” Fireheart stared across the clearing at the nursery, wondering if Yellowfang had finished treating Cloudkit. “If he makes it that far.”
“Of course he’ll make it!” Sandpaw meowed confidently.
“But he has a fever.” Fireheart let his shoulders sag with worry.
“All kits get fevers!” Sandpaw retorted. “With his thick fur, he’ll recover in no time. That coat’s going to be handy in leaf-bare, perfect for hunting in the snow. The prey’ll never see him coming, and he’ll be able to stay out twice as long as thin-pelts like Longtail!”
Fireheart purred and felt himself relax. Sandpaw had lifted his spirits again. He stood up and gave her a brisk lick on the head. “Come on,” he meowed. “Bluestar is calling the cats for the Gathering.”
They joined the other cats beside the camp entrance, a silent, purposeful group.
Bluestar signaled to them with a flick of her tail, then led them through the gorse tunnel and out of the ravine. The forest glistened in the cold moonlight as they sprinted toward Fourtrees. Clouds of breath billowed from Fireheart’s muzzle, and the forest floor felt frozen beneath his paws.
For the first time since Fireheart had joined the Clan, Bluestar didn’t hesitate at the ridge above Fourtrees to prepare herself for the meeting. Instead her cats followed their leader wordlessly as she plunged straight down the slope into the clearing.
CHAPTER 23
RiverClan and ShadowClan had not yet arrived, but WindClan was already there. Tallstar greeted Bluestar with a respectful nod.
Fireheart spotted Onewhisker and bounded over to meet him. “Hi!” he meowed. It had been over two moons since he’d last seen the small brown tabby warrior who had battled beside him at the gorge. For the first time in ages, Fireheart recalled Whiteclaw’s death and felt the familiar bristle of horror as he pictured the RiverClan warrior disappearing beneath the rushing river.
“Where’s Graystripe?” Onewhisker asked. “Is he okay?”
Fireheart could see from the concern in his eyes that the WindClan warrior was thinking about Whiteclaw’s death too. “He’s fine,” Fireheart answered. “He’s over there with the others.” Fireheart remembered the WindClan queen whose kit he’d helped to carry. “How’s Morningflower?”
“Happy to be home,” replied Onewhisker. “Her kit is growing quickly now.” Fireheart purred with pleasure. “The whole Clan is well,” Onewhisker added. He glanced at Fireheart with an amused gleam in his eyes. “It’s great to eat rabbit again. I hope I never have to taste another rat as long as I live!”
Fireheart detected a fresh scent on the night air. RiverClan was coming. He could smell ShadowClan, too. He scanned the ridge that ran around the edge of the hollow. Sure enough, RiverClan cats were streaming down one side. On the opposite ridge, Fireheart saw ShadowClan cats poised at the top, their coats gleaming in the moonlight. The lean figure of Nightstar stood at the head of the group.
“At last,” growled Onewhisker. He’d spotted them as well. “It’s too cold to be hanging around tonight.”
Fireheart nodded absently. He was searching the crowd of RiverClan cats as they entered the clearing, looking for Silverstream. He recognized the pale gray she-cat easily. She skidded to a halt at the bottom of the slope, then followed her father as he exchanged reserved greetings with the warriors from the other Clans.
Nervously Fireheart scanned the growing throng of cats for Graystripe. Would he dare speak to Silverstream tonight? The gray warrior had his back to Silverstream while he talked with a WindClan warrior.
Fireheart was watching Graystripe so closely that he didn’t hear Deadfoot approach. “Good evening, Fireheart,” meowed the WindClan deputy. “How are you?”
Fireheart turned. “Hello,” he meowed. “I’m fine, thank you.”
Deadfoot nodded. “Good,” he meowed, and limped away.
Onewhisker gave Fireheart a friendly nudge. “You’re privileged!” Fireheart felt a small glimmer of pride.
Bluestar’s yowl sounded from the Great Rock. Fireheart turned and looked up, surprised. The leaders didn’t usually call the meeting so soon. Crookedstar and Nightstar were standing close together on the rock. Bluestar waited besid
e Tallstar for the cats to gather beneath them. It was the first time Fireheart had seen the WindClan leader at a Gathering, he realized with a jolt.
Fireheart and Onewhisker followed the other cats as they settled themselves beneath the rock. Fireheart looked up expectantly, waiting for Bluestar to welcome Tallstar and WindClan back, but the ThunderClan leader was clearly in no mood to waste time on friendly words.
“RiverClan has been hunting at Sunningrocks,” she began angrily. “Our patrols have scented your warriors many times, Crookedstar. Sunningrocks belongs to ThunderClan!”
Crookedstar met Bluestar’s gaze steadily. “Have you forgotten how recently one of our warriors was killed defending our territory from ThunderClan?”
“You had no need to defend your territory,” Bluestar answered. “My warriors were not hunting there. They were returning home after finding WindClan. It was a mission we all agreed on! According to the warrior code, they should not have been attacked.”
“You speak of the warrior code?” spat Crookedstar. “What about the ThunderClan warrior who has been spying on our territory since then?”
Bluestar was caught off guard. “Warrior?” she echoed. “Have you seen him?”
“Not yet,” Crookedstar hissed. “But we find his scent so often, it won’t be long before we do.”
Fireheart glanced at Graystripe in alarm. He knew only too well which warrior had been detected in Crookedstar’s territory. Would any of the RiverClan warriors recognize his scent tonight?
Graystripe sat motionless, not taking his eyes off the leaders on the Great Rock.
Tigerclaw’s deep growl sounded from the crowd. “We have scented ShadowClan in our territory as well as RiverClan this past moon. And not just one warrior, but a whole patrol, always the same cats.”
The ShadowClan leader’s eyes flashed indignantly. “ShadowClan has not been in your territory. Clearly your warriors can’t tell the difference in the scents of cats outside their own Clan. You have been smelling the scent of rogue cats. They have been stealing prey from our territory as well!”