Forest of Secrets (Warriors 6)

He slowed down to a walk as the patrol approached the edge of the forest. Ahead of him he could hear the sound of the river, free at last from its bonds of ice. “We’re almost at the border,” he meowed quietly. “From here on we have to keep alert. There may be RiverClan cats about.”

Graystripe stopped and opened his jaws to drink in scent from the breeze. “I can’t smell any,” he reported. Fireheart wondered if he was disappointed that Silverstream wasn’t nearby. “Besides, they’ll have plenty of prey now that the river’s unfrozen,” Graystripe added. “Why should they come and steal ours?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past RiverClan,” growled Runningwind. “They’d steal the fur off your back if you didn’t keep an eye on them.”

Fireheart saw Graystripe beginning to bristle. “Come on, then,” he meowed hastily, trying to distract his friend before he said something that gave away his divided loyalties. “Let’s go.” He raced away through the last of the trees and burst out onto open ground. What he saw there brought him skidding to a halt, and the memory of his dream crashed into his mind like a thunderclap.

In front of the cats, the land sloped gently down to the river—or what had been the river. Swelled by the melting snow, the fast-flowing water had burst the banks and risen until it lapped the grass barely a rabbit-length from Fireheart’s paws. The tips of reeds just showed above it; farther upstream, the Sunningrocks were gray islands in the midst of a shimmering silver lake.

The thaw had certainly come, but now the river was in full flood.

CHAPTER 11

“Great StarClan!” breathed Sandstorm.

The other two cats grunted in agreement, but Fireheart was speechless with horror. He had instantly recognized the shining expanse of water, and now he recalled Spottedleaf’s ominous words: “Water can quench fire.”

Fear chilled him as he struggled to understand how this flood could threaten his Clan, so that he was hardly aware of Graystripe trying to attract his attention until the big gray cat pressed up close to his side. Panic flared in Graystripe’s amber eyes, and Fireheart didn’t need to ask why. His friend was afraid for Silverstream.

The land was lower on the RiverClan bank, so the floodwaters could spread much farther. As for the camp on the island…Fireheart wondered how much of that was underwater. He had grown to like Silverstream in spite of his concerns, and he felt a grudging respect for Mistyfoot and Graypool, too. He didn’t want to imagine them driven out of their camp, or worse, drowned.

Runningwind had padded right to the water’s edge and was gazing out across the river. “RiverClan isn’t going to like this,” he remarked. “And a good thing, too. It’ll keep them off our territory.”

Fireheart felt Graystripe tense at the note of satisfaction in Runningwind’s voice. He shot his friend a warning glance. “Well, we can’t patrol the border now,” he pointed out. “We’d better get back to camp and report this. Come on, Graystripe,” he added firmly, seeing the warrior look once more with anguish across the swollen river.

As soon as Bluestar heard the news she leaped to the top of the Highrock and gave the familiar call: “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting.”

At once cats began to pour out of their dens and into the clearing. Fireheart took his place at the front of the crowd, noticing with a prickle of annoyance that Cloudkit had come bouncing along after Brindleface, although he was too young to attend the meeting. He saw Yellowfang and Cinderpaw listening from the mouth of the fern tunnel. Even Brokentail emerged from his den, nudged along by Mousefur.

The bright morning was coming to an end. Clouds were massing to cover the face of the sun, and the gentle breeze had strengthened until a stiff wind blew across the clearing, flattening the fur of the cats who crouched around the Highrock. Fireheart shivered, and didn’t know whether it was from cold or apprehension.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” meowed Bluestar. “Our camp may be in danger. The snow has gone, but the river has burst its banks. Part of our territory is already flooded.”

A chorus of dismay rose from the Clan, but Bluestar raised her voice above the yowls. “Fireheart, tell the Clan what you have seen.”

Fireheart stood up and described how the river had overflowed near the Sunningrocks.

“It doesn’t sound that dangerous to us,” meowed Darkstripe when he had finished. “We have plenty of territory left for prey. Let RiverClan worry about the floods.”

A murmur of approval broke out, although Fireheart noticed that Tigerclaw stayed silent. He sat at the base of the Highrock, motionless except for the twitching tip of his tail.

“Silence!” spat Bluestar. “The water could spread here before we know it. Something like this is bigger than Clan rivalry. I don’t want to hear that any RiverClan cats have died from these floods.”

Fireheart noticed a hot glow in her eyes as she spoke, as if her words meant more than she had said. Puzzled, he remembered how angry Bluestar had been with him for speaking to RiverClan warriors; yet now her strength of feeling suggested a current of sympathy running deep within her.

Patchpelt spoke up from among the elders. “I remember the last time the river overflowed, many moons ago. Cats from all Clans drowned. Prey drowned, too, and we went hungry even though our paws stayed dry. This is not just RiverClan’s problem.”

“Well said, Patchpelt,” meowed Bluestar. “I remember those days, too, and I hoped I would never have to see such times again. But since it has happened, these are my orders: No cat is to go out alone. Kits and apprentices must not leave the camp without at least one warrior. Patrols will go out to discover how far the floods reach—Tigerclaw, see to it.”

“Yes, Bluestar,” meowed the deputy. “I’ll send out hunting patrols, too. We must build up a stock of prey before the water rises any farther.”

“Good idea,” agreed Bluestar. She raised her voice again to address the whole Clan. “The meeting is over. Go to your duties.” She leaped down lightly from the Highrock and padded across to talk with Patchpelt and the other elders.

Fireheart was waiting to see if Tigerclaw would choose him for a patrol when he noticed Graystripe edging away from the circle of cats. Fireheart headed after him, and caught up just as he broke for the gorse tunnel. “Where do you think you’re going?” he hissed in the gray warrior’s ear. “Bluestar just said that no cat should go out alone.”

Graystripe turned a panicky look on him. “Fireheart, I have to see Silverstream,” he protested. “I have to be sure she’s okay.”

Fireheart let out a long sigh of exasperation. He understood how his friend was feeling, but he could hardly have chosen a worse time to go visiting his mate. “How will you get across the river?” he asked.

“I’ll manage,” Graystripe promised grimly. “It’s only water.”

“Don’t be such a mouse-brain!” Fireheart spat, remembering the time Graystripe had fallen through the ice, when Silverstream had rescued him. “You nearly drowned once before. Wasn’t that enough for you?”

Graystripe didn’t answer; he just swung around and made for the tunnel again.

Fireheart glanced over his shoulder. The other cats in the clearing were breaking up into small groups under Tigerclaw’s direction, ready to go out on patrol. “Stop, Graystripe!” he hissed, halting his friend at the entrance to the tunnel. “Wait there.”

Once he was sure Graystripe had done as he asked, he bounded across the clearing toward the deputy. “Hey, Tigerclaw,” he meowed. “Graystripe and I are ready to go. We’ll check the RiverClan boundary downstream of the Sunningrocks, all right?”

Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased that Fireheart had taken it upon himself to choose which area he was going to patrol. But he had no reason to refuse, especially with Bluestar in earshot. “All right,” he growled. “Try to bring some prey back, as well.”

“Yes, Tigerclaw,” Fireheart replied, dipping his head before turning to race back to

Graystripe. “Okay,” he panted. “We’re on patrol, so at least no cat will wonder where we’ve gone.”

“But you—” Graystripe began to protest.

“I know you have to go,” Fireheart meowed. “But I’m coming with you.”

He felt a prickle of guilt as he spoke. Even on patrol, he and Graystripe wouldn’t be expected to cross Clan boundaries. Bluestar would be furious if she knew that two of her warriors were risking their lives to go into enemy territory when their own Clan needed them so badly. But Fireheart couldn’t just stand there and let Graystripe go alone. His friend could be swept away in the floods and never return.