Rising Storm (Warriors 5)

Ravenpaw’s tail fluffed up with sudden fear. “What do you mean? On the loose?”

Sandstorm shot Fireheart a wry look.

“Come on,” Fireheart meowed to the black cat. “I’ll explain as we go. The sooner we get moving, the better.”

“You’re not going without me,” Sandstorm told him. “It’s a mouse-brained journey, but you’ll need all the help you can get if you bump into Tigerclaw or a WindClan patrol!”

Fireheart felt a surge of joy at Sandstorm’s words. He glanced gratefully at her and turned to face Brightpaw. “Will you go back to the camp and tell Whitestorm where we’ve gone?” he asked the apprentice. “He knows Ravenpaw.”

Brightpaw’s eyes flashed with alarm, but she blinked it away and dipped her head. “Of course.”

“Go straight back home, and keep your ears low,” Fireheart ordered her, feeling a twinge of worry at leaving the young cat to travel alone.

“I’ll take care,” Brightpaw promised him earnestly. She turned and vanished into the undergrowth.

Fireheart pushed away his anxiety about the apprentice and began to trek through the ferns. Sandstorm and Ravenpaw fell into step beside him, and he was reminded of all the times he had hunted in the forest with Ravenpaw and Graystripe. But as the stifling forest air pressed down on him and his fur prickled with anticipation of the journey ahead, he couldn’t help wondering if he was leading them all into disaster.

The three cats raced through Fourtrees and climbed into WindClan territory. Fireheart remembered the last time he had been here, with Bluestar. They would be following the same route, straight across the uplands to the Twoleg farmland that lay between WindClan territory and Highstones. At least there was no breeze this time to carry their scents across the moor. The air on the uplands was unnaturally still, and so dry that Fireheart felt his fur crackle as it brushed through the heather.

He chose a trail that kept them as far as possible from the camp that lay at the heart of WindClan’s territory. The ground up here was usually peaty and wet, but now it had dried to a hard crust and the heather was browning in places, shriveled by the sun.

“So what’s happened to Tigerclaw?” Ravenpaw broke the silence without slowing his pace.

Fireheart had often looked forward to telling Ravenpaw that his old tormentor had been exposed at last. But now it seemed there was only darkness in the news about Tigerclaw’s treachery and banishment, and, since he had killed Runningwind, Fireheart stumbled over the story with a heart that ached with bitterness and regret.

Ravenpaw stopped dead in his tracks. “He killed Runningwind?”

Fireheart stopped too and nodded heavily. “Tigerclaw leads a band of rogues now, and he’s sworn to kill us all.”

“But who would follow such a leader?”

“Some of them are Brokentail’s old friends, who were exiled with him when we drove him out of ShadowClan.” Fireheart paused, forcing himself to revisit the scene of the recent battle in his mind. “But there were other cats that I hadn’t seen before. I don’t know where they’ve come from.”

“So Tigerclaw is more powerful than ever,” Ravenpaw mewed darkly.

“No!” Fireheart spat. “He’s an outcast now, not a warrior. He has no Clan. StarClan must oppose him as long as he breaks the warrior code. Without a Clan or the warrior code to support him, there’s no way Tigerclaw can defeat ThunderClan.” Fireheart fell silent, realizing that he had spoken with a conviction he had hardly been aware of until now. Sandstorm was staring proudly at him.

“I hope you’re right,” Ravenpaw meowed.

Me too, thought Fireheart. He began to pad onward once more, narrowing his eyes against the glaring sun.

“Of course he’s right,” Sandstorm insisted, following.

Ravenpaw fell into step beside Sandstorm. “Well, I’m just glad I’m out of it.”

She glanced at him accusingly. “Don’t you miss Clan life at all?”

“I did in the beginning,” Ravenpaw admitted. “But now I have a new home, and I like it there. I’ve got Barley for company if I want, and that’s plenty for me. I’d rather have that than Tigerclaw any day.”

Sandstorm’s eyes glittered. “How do you know he won’t come looking for you?”

Ravenpaw’s ears twitched.

“Tigerclaw has no idea where you are,” Fireheart told him quickly. He flashed a warning glance at Sandstorm. “Come on; let’s get out of WindClan’s territory.”

He quickened the pace until they were racing through the heather too fast to speak. He avoided the swathe of gorse where he and Bluestar had met Mudclaw, and instead led them in a broad circle across the open moor. The barren hillside offered no protection from the sun, and Fireheart felt as if his pelt were on fire by the time they reached the slope that led down to Twoleg territory. The valley stretched out below them, patched with meadows and paths and Twoleg nests like the dappled coat of a tortoiseshell.

“The WindClan cats must have been keeping out of the heat in their camp,” he meowed, puffing as they ran down the hillside. “Let’s hope the rest of the journey is this easy.”

They reached a copse of trees, and Fireheart welcomed the cool shade and the familiar woodland smells. High above them two buzzards circled with high-pitched calls, and he could hear the rumbling of a Twoleg monster in the distance. His aching legs tempted him to lie down and rest for a while, but his longing to find Cloudpaw drove him on.

As they padded through the trees, Sandstorm stared around with her whiskers trembling. Fireheart realized that she had traveled this far from ThunderClan territory only once before, when she had accompanied Bluestar to the Moonstone as an apprentice. It was a journey all cats had to make before they became warriors. Fireheart had been here several times, not just to visit Highstones, but to see Ravenpaw and to lead WindClan out of exile. But it was Ravenpaw who was most at home in these woods.

“We can’t hang around here,” the black cat warned. “Especially not this time of day. Twolegs like to walk their dogs here.”

Fireheart could smell the scent of dog nearby. He flattened his ears and followed Ravenpaw in silence as the black tom led them out of the copse.

Ravenpaw squeezed through the hedge first. Fireheart waited for Sandstorm to go next, then pushed his way through the thickly tangled leaves. He recognized the red dirt track on the other side. He had crossed it with Graystripe on their journey to find the exiled WindClan. Ravenpaw looked both ways before racing across and disappearing into the far hedgerow at the other side. Sandstorm glanced at Fireheart, and he nodded encouragingly. She darted forward, and Fireheart followed at her heels.

The barley in the field beyond the hedge stretched high above their heads. Instead of skirting the edge, Ravenpaw headed straight into the forest of crackling stems. Fireheart and Sandstorm weaved after him, hurrying so they didn’t lose sight of the black cat’s tail flicking ahead of them. Fireheart felt a ripple of unease as he realized he could never find his way out alone. He had lost all sense of direction, with nothing to see but the endless golden stems and a strip of clear blue sky above. He was very relieved when they finally emerged and sat down to rest under the hedge on the far side of the field. They were making good progress. The sun was only halfway down the sky and the uplands were already far behind them.

Fireheart smelled a familiar scent on the hedge beside him. “Your marker,” he commented to Ravenpaw.

“This is where my territory begins.” Ravenpaw swung his head around, signaling that the wide sweep of fields ahead of them was where he lived and hunted.

“Then Cloudpaw is near here?” asked Sandstorm, sniffing warily.

“There’s a dip on the other side of that rise,” Ravenpaw told her, pointing with his nose. “The Twoleg nest is there.”

Fireheart suddenly felt the

fur on his spine tingle. What was that smell? He froze and opened his mouth to let the scent reach the glands inside.

Beside him Ravenpaw had lifted his nose, his black ears pricked and his tail flicking nervously. His eyes widened in alarm. “Dogs!” he hissed.

CHAPTER 20

Fireheart heard grass swishing behind the hedge and tensed his shoulders as the strong odor filled the air. A loud bark made his tail fluff out, and a heartbeat later he saw the quivering nose of a dog thrusting through the hedge.

“Run!” he yowled, spinning around. Another rustle and a yelp of excitement told him that a second dog was following the first.

Fireheart fled. Sandstorm raced beside him, her fur brushing his as they pelted along the hedgerow with the dogs at their heels. The drumming of the dogs’ paws made the ground tremble, and Fireheart could feel their breath hot on his neck. He glanced over his shoulder. Two massive dogs loomed behind them, their soft flesh rippling, their eyes glaring, and their tongues lolling. With a jolt, Fireheart realized that Ravenpaw was nowhere to be seen.

“Keep running,” he hissed to Sandstorm. “They won’t be able to keep this pace up for long.” Sandstorm managed to nod, her paws pounding faster.

He was right. When he turned his head again, he saw that the dogs had begun to fall behind. Fireheart sized up an ash tree in the hedgerow ahead of them. It was some way off, but if they could put enough distance between themselves and the dogs, they might be able to scramble up it to safety.

“See that ash?” he meowed to Sandstorm, panting. “Climb it as quickly as you can. I’ll follow.”

Sandstorm grunted in agreement, her breath coming in ragged gasps. They raced on toward the tree. Fireheart yowled to Sandstorm and she shot up the trunk, clawing her way to safety.

Before he leaped for the tree, Fireheart looked over his shoulder once more to see how far away the dogs were. His fur shot up when he saw huge teeth barely a rabbitlength from his face. With a vicious snarl the dog lunged at him. Fireheart whipped around and lashed out with his forepaws, his claws sharp as blackthorns. He felt the flesh rip on the dog’s swaying jowls and heard it yelp in pain. He slashed once more, then turned and scrambled up the tree, as fast as a squirrel. He stopped on the lowest branch and looked down. Below him the dog yowled in frustration while the other joined it, throwing its huge head back and bellowing angrily.