Fire and Ice (Warriors 3)

The truth washed over Fireheart like a chill wind—it wasn’t Graystripe he should have been wary of, but Tigerclaw! How could he have suspected his friend, when he knew what Tigerclaw was capable of? Suddenly Fireheart was sure Ravenpaw had been telling the truth, whatever Bluestar had said. Seeing the dark warrior’s performance today, Fireheart realized that Tigerclaw could easily have killed Redtail and walked away without remorse.

“You fought well, Fireheart!” Runningwind interrupted his thoughts. The brown tabby blinked warmly at Fireheart as he promised, “I’ll make sure Bluestar hears about it!”

“Yes,” agreed Willowpelt. “You’re a fine warrior. StarClan will honor you for this.” Fireheart looked at them both, his ears twitching with pleasure. It was a relief to feel part of the Clan again.

Suddenly Fireheart’s fur prickled. Darkstripe was stalking across the clearing toward Tigerclaw. He sat down behind Tallstar and waited until the WindClan leader walked away; then he leaned forward and whispered urgently into Tigerclaw’s ear. The two warriors kept glancing toward Fireheart.

He saw, thought Fireheart, feeling dizzy with horror. He saw me let Silverstream go.

“Are you okay?” asked Willowpelt.

Fireheart realized he’d shivered. “Er, yes, sorry. Just thinking.” Tigerclaw was stalking toward him, his eyes shining with spiteful satisfaction.

“Well, if you’re sure, I’ll go and see to some others,” meowed Willowpelt.

“Yes—fine,” meowed Fireheart. “Thanks.”

Willowpelt picked up her herbs and padded away. Runningwind followed her.

Tigerclaw flattened his ears and drew back his lip in a snarl as he looked down at Fireheart. “Darkstripe says you let a RiverClan she-cat escape!”

Fireheart realized there was nothing he could say. No matter how difficult Graystripe had made things for him, there was no way he was going to betray his friend to this warrior. He longed to yowl back that Tigerclaw had stood and watched while a RiverClan warrior tried to kill him. But who would believe him? Darkstripe padded up to stand beside Tigerclaw. Fireheart longed for the wisdom and fairness of Bluestar, but she was far away, back at the ThunderClan camp.

He took a deep breath, preparing to speak as Tigerclaw stared menacingly down at him. Then it dawned on Fireheart that any disloyalty he had shown on Graystripe’s behalf meant nothing to this great warrior. That wasn’t the real reason for Tigerclaw’s persecution of him. The deputy was still afraid of what Fireheart might have learned from Ravenpaw about Redtail’s death all those moons ago. But unlike Ravenpaw, Fireheart wasn’t going to give in to fear. His eyes challenged the dark deputy, and he growled, “She escaped, yes, like Crookedstar escaped from you. Why? Did you want me to kill her?”

Tigerclaw’s tail lashed the cold ground. “Darkstripe says you didn’t even scratch her.”

Fireheart shrugged. “Perhaps Darkstripe should chase after the she-cat and ask her if it’s true!”

Darkstripe looked ready to spit, but he remained silent as Tigerclaw spoke. “He doesn’t need to. Darkstripe tells me your young gray friend chased after her. Perhaps he’ll be able to tell us how badly she was scratched.”

For the first time since they’d entered the battle Fireheart felt the chill of the wind. The gleam in Tigerclaw’s eye hinted at a veiled threat. Had the dark warrior guessed about Graystripe’s love for Silverstream?

Fireheart was still searching for words when Graystripe appeared, squeezing through the camp entrance.

“Look who’s back,” sneered Tigerclaw. “Do you want to ask him how the she-cat is? No, wait, I can guess his answer. He’ll just tell me he didn’t manage to catch up with her.” Not bothering to disguise the scorn in his eyes, Tigerclaw stalked away with Darkstripe behind him.

Fireheart looked over at Graystripe. His friend’s face was lined with exhaustion and worry. Fireheart padded across the clearing to meet him. Would Graystripe still be resentful of Fireheart’s interference? Would he be angry that Fireheart had tried to attack Silverstream, or grateful that he’d let her go?

Graystripe stood silently, his broad head hanging down. Fireheart reached forward with his nose and gently touched his friend’s cold, gray flank. He felt Graystripe’s rumbling purr and looked up. Graystripe gazed back at him. His eyes were sad, but there was no trace of the anger that Fireheart had seen in them lately.

“Is she okay?” Fireheart asked under his breath.

“Yes,” whispered Graystripe. “And thanks for letting her go.”

Fireheart blinked at him. “I’m glad she wasn’t hurt,” he meowed.

Graystripe held his gaze for a moment, then meowed, “Fireheart, you were right. The battle wasn’t easy. It felt like I was fighting Silverstream’s Clan mates, not enemy warriors.” He lowered his eyes, ashamed. “But I still can’t give her up.”

The gray warrior’s words filled Fireheart with foreboding, but he couldn’t help sympathizing with his friend. “This is something you have to work out by yourself,” he meowed. “It’s not my place to judge you.” Graystripe looked up as Fireheart went on. “Graystripe, whatever you decide to do, I will always be your friend.”

Graystripe stared at him, his eyes clouded with relief and gratitude. Then, without speaking, the two warriors lay down, side to side, in the unfamiliar clearing. For the first time in moons, their fur was pressed together in friendship. Above them, the snow-heavy gorse offered them a brief shelter from the storm that raged over their heads.