Fireheart splashed toward him. The deputy, with Longtail beside him, was standing at the edge of the stream. A branch was lodged in front of them, swept into place by the current so that it stretched from one bank to the other.

“Just what we need,” Tigerclaw grunted in satisfaction. “Fireheart, check that it’s safe, will you?”

Fireheart gazed doubtfully at the branch. It was much thinner than the fallen tree that he had used to cross to RiverClan’s territory. Twigs poked out in all directions, still with dead leaves dangling from them. Every few moments the whole branch gave a slight jerk, as if the current wanted to sweep it away again.

With any other senior warrior, or even Bluestar, Fireheart would have discussed how safe the branch was before he set paw on it. But no cat questioned an order from Tigerclaw.

“Scared, kittypet?” Longtail taunted him.

Determination burned in Fireheart’s belly. He would not show fear in front of these cats and let them have the pleasure of reporting it to the rest of the Clan. Gritting his teeth, he stepped onto the end of the branch.

Immediately it sagged under his paws, and he dug his claws in hard, fighting for balance. He could see brown water racing a mouse-length below, and for a few heartbeats he thought he would plunge straight into it.

Then he steadied himself. He began to move forward cautiously, placing his paws in a straight line one after the other. The slender branch bounced under his weight with every step. Twigs caught in his fur, threatening his balance. We’ll never get to the Gathering like this, Fireheart thought.

Gradually he drew closer to the middle of the stream, where the current was strongest. The branch tapered until it was barely as thick as his tail, making it harder to find a pawhold. Pausing, Fireheart measured the distance left; was he close enough to leap safely yet?

Then the branch lurched under him. Instinctively he gripped tighter with his claws. He heard Tigerclaw yowl, “Fireheart! Get back!”

For a heartbeat Fireheart swayed precariously. Then the branch lurched again and suddenly it was free, racing along with the surging water. Fireheart slipped sideways, and thought he heard Tigerclaw yowl once more as the waves closed over his head.

CHAPTER 17

As he plunged into the stream Fireheart managed to keep one clawhold on the branch. He felt as if he were fighting a spiky wooden enemy, twigs that lashed at him and raked through his fur while his breath bubbled into the dark water. His head broke the surface briefly, but before he could gasp in air the branch twisted and rolled him under again.

Terror made him strangely calm, as if time had slowed down. Part of Fireheart’s mind told him to let go of the branch and fight his way to the surface, but he knew that if he did that he would risk his life; the current was far too strong for him to swim. The force of the water meant there was nothing he could do but dig his claws in and endure. StarClan help me! he thought frantically.

His senses were just beginning to ebb into a tempting darkness when the branch rolled over again and brought him back to the surface. Choking and spitting he clung to it, with water churning along on either side of him. He could not see the bank. He tried to haul himself farther out of the water, but his sodden fur was too heavy and his limbs were growing stiff with cold. He did not know how long he could hold on.

Just as he felt that he was about to let go, something brought the branch to a jarring stop. It shuddered along its whole length, almost throwing Fireheart off. As he clung on desperately, he heard a cat screech his name. Twisting his head, he saw that the other end of the branch was jammed against a rock that jutted out into the stream.

Longtail was crouched on the rock, leaning down toward him. “Move, kittypet!” he growled.

With his last drop of energy, Fireheart scrambled along the length of the branch. Twigs whipped across his face. He felt the branch lurch again and flung himself at the rock, his front paws scraping at it while his hind legs thrust through the water. His paws had barely touched stone when the branch was swept away from underneath him.

For a heartbeat Fireheart thought he would follow it. The rock was smooth; there was no purchase for his paws. Then Longtail reached down and Fireheart felt his teeth meet in the scruff of his neck. With the other cat’s help he managed to claw his way upward until he was crouching on the top of the rock. Shivering, he coughed up several mouthfuls of stream water before he looked up. “Thanks, Longtail,” he gasped.

The warrior’s face was expressionless. “It was nothing.”

Tigerclaw padded up from behind the rock. “Are you hurt?” he demanded. “Can you walk?”

Shakily, Fireheart pushed himself to his paws. Water streamed off his coat as he shook himself. “I-I’m fine, Tigerclaw,” he stammered.

Tigerclaw stepped backward to avoid the spinning droplets from Fireheart’s fur. “Watch it; we’re all wet enough already.” Approaching Fireheart again he gave a rapid sniff down the length of his body. “Back to camp for you,” he ordered. “In fact, we’ll all go back. No cat can get across that water; you’ve proved that, if nothing else.”

Fireheart nodded and wordlessly followed the deputy back into the forest. Colder and more tired than he could ever remember being before, he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep in a patch of sunlight.

But while his limbs felt like waterlogged stone, his mind was a whirlpool of fear and suspicion. Tigerclaw had sent him out onto the branch, when any cat could see it was dangerous. Fireheart couldn’t help wondering if Tigerclaw had deliberately dislodged it, to make sure that he was flung into the swollen stream.

Not if Longtail was watching, he decided. After all, Longtail had rescued him; much as Fireheart disliked Longtail, he had to admit that the pale tabby would stick rigidly to the Clan code when another warrior needed his help.

Even so, Tigerclaw could have shifted the branch without letting Longtail see, or perhaps Longtail hadn’t understood what was happening. Fireheart would have liked to ask him, but he knew that if he did the question would be reported to Tigerclaw.

Then he glanced at Tigerclaw, and saw the deputy glaring at him with unmasked hatred. As Fireheart met the amber stare, he saw Tigerclaw’s eyes narrow as if with an unspoken threat. And in that moment Fireheart knew that somehow Tigerclaw had tried to murder him. This time he had failed. But what about next time? Fireheart’s tired brain shied away from what was all too obvious. Next time, Tigerclaw would make sure he did not fail.

By the time he reached the camp, the warm newleaf sun had dried Fireheart’s fur, but he was so exhausted he could scarcely put one paw in front of another.

Sandstorm, who was sunning herself outside the warriors’ den, sprang up as soon as she saw him and bounded over to his side. “Fireheart!” she exclaimed. “You look awful! What happened?”

“Nothing much,” Fireheart mumbled. “I was—”

“Fireheart went for a swim, that’s all,” Tigerclaw interrupted. He looked down at the young warrior. “Come on. We need to report to Bluestar.” He strode across to the Highrock with Longtail at his heels. As Fireheart staggered after them, Sandstorm padded close beside him, pressing her warm body against his for support.

“Well?” Bluestar asked when the cats stood in front of her. “Did you find somewhere to cross?”

Tigerclaw shook his massive head. “It’s impossible. The water’s too high.”

“But every Clan should attend the Gathering,” Bluestar pointed out. “StarClan will be angry if we don’t try to find a dry route. Tigerclaw, tell me exactly where you went.”

Tigerclaw began to describe the events of the morning in more detail, including Fireheart’s attempt to cross by the branch. “It was brave but foolish,” he growled. “I thought he’d paid with his life.”

Sandstorm looked around, impressed, but Fireheart knew as well as Tigerclaw that he had had no choice about getting onto the branch.

“Be more careful in the future, Fireheart,” Bluestar warned. “You’d better see Y

ellowfang in case you’ve caught a chill.”

“I’m fine,” Fireheart told her. “I just need to sleep, that’s all.”

Bluestar’s eyes narrowed. “That was an order, Fireheart.”

Stifling a yawn, Fireheart bowed his head respectfully. “Yes, Bluestar.”

“Come to the den when you’ve finished,” meowed Sandstorm, giving him a lick. “I’ll fetch you some fresh-kill.”

Fireheart mewed his thanks and stumbled unsteadily to Yellowfang’s den. The clearing was empty, but when he called Yellowfang’s name the old medicine cat poked her head out of the gap in the rock.

“Fireheart? Great StarClan, you look like a squirrel that’s fallen out of its tree! What happened to you?”

She padded toward him as he explained. Cinderpaw limped out behind her and sat beside Fireheart, her blue eyes wide as she heard how he had nearly drowned.

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