Forest of Secrets (Warriors 6)

With Graystripe at his side, he made his way to the front of the crowd, just below the Highrock. Cloudkit was there, sitting up very straight and importantly beside Brindleface. Tigerclaw was seated close by, a thundercloud of disapproval on his face. Fireheart wondered what had happened now to send the deputy back into his usual bad temper.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” Bluestar began from on top of the Highrock. “I’ve called you here for two reasons, one good and one bad. To begin with the bad, you all know what happened a few days ago, when Silverstream of RiverClan died, and we gave shelter to her kits by Graystripe.”

A hostile mutter swept through the crowd of cats. Graystripe crouched down, flinching, and Fireheart pressed comfortingly against him.

“Many cats have asked me what Graystripe’s punishment will be,” Bluestar went on. “I have thought carefully on this, and I have decided that Silverstream’s death is punishment enough. What could any cat do to him that is worse than what he has already suffered?”

Her challenge led to outraged meows of protest. Longtail called out, “We don’t want him in the Clan! He’s a traitor!”

“If you become Clan leader, Longtail, these decisions will be yours,” Bluestar meowed coldly. “Until then, you will respect mine. I say there will be no punishment. However, Graystripe, for three moons you will not attend Gatherings. This is not to punish you, but to make sure there is no risk to you from angry RiverClan cats who might be tempted to break the truce because of what you have done.”

Graystripe bowed his head. “I understand, Bluestar. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” meowed the Clan leader. “But work hard and fight well for your Clan from now on. One day you will be a fine mentor for those kits.”

Fireheart saw that Graystripe brightened a little at that, as if he suddenly saw something to hope for. Tigerclaw, however, scowled even more fiercely, and Fireheart guessed that he had wanted a harsh punishment for the warrior.

“Now I can turn to a happier duty,” meowed Bluestar. “Cloudkit has reached his sixth moon, and he is ready to become an apprentice.” She leaped down from the rock and beckoned Cloudkit to her with a flick of her tail. Cloudkit bounced over to her. He was quivering with excitement, his tail stuck straight in the air and his whiskers twitching. His blue eyes sparkled like twin stars.

“Fireheart,” Bluestar meowed, “you are ready for another apprentice, and Cloudpaw is your sister’s kit. You will be his mentor.”

Fireheart stood up, but before he could walk over to the Highrock Cloudkit scampered to meet him and lifted his head to touch noses.

“Not yet!” Fireheart muttered to him through his teeth.

“Fireheart, you know what it is to be one of us, yet born outside the Clan,” Bluestar continued, ignoring Cloudkit’s impulsiveness. “I rely on you to pass on all you have learned to Cloudpaw, and help him to become a warrior the Clan will be proud of.”

“Yes, Bluestar.” Fireheart dipped his head respectfully, and at last allowed Cloudpaw to touch noses with him.

“Cloudpaw!” the new apprentice mewed triumphantly. “I’m Cloudpaw!”

“Cloudpaw!” Fireheart felt a surge of pride in his sister’s kit as the members of the Clan pressed around to congratulate the new apprentice. The elders, Fireheart noticed, were making a special fuss over him.

But Fireheart also noticed that some of the Clan held back. Tigerclaw never moved from where he sat at the base of the rock, and Longtail stalked over to sit beside him. As Fireheart stood back to let the other cats reach his new apprentice, Darkstripe shouldered past him on his way to the warriors’ den.

Fireheart heard his disgusted, deliberately loud meow. “Traitors and kittypets! Is there no decent cat left in this Clan?”

CHAPTER 25

Fireheart paused at the edge of the trees. “Wait,” he warned Cloudpaw. “We’re near Twolegplace, so we have to be careful. What can you smell?”

Cloudpaw raised his nose obediently and sniffed. He and Fireheart had just been on the first long expedition of his apprenticeship, tracing the Clan boundaries and renewing the scent marks. Now they were near Fireheart’s old kittypet home, outside the garden where Cloudpaw’s mother Princess lived.

“I can smell lots of cats,” Cloudpaw mewed. “I don’t recognize any of them, though.”

“That’s good,” Fireheart told him. “They’re mostly kittypets, and maybe a loner or two. Not Clan cats.” He had caught a trace of Tigerclaw’s scent, too, but he didn’t draw Cloudpaw’s attention to it. He remembered the day long ago, when snow was on the ground, when he had tracked Tigerclaw to this place, and found the deputy’s scent mixed with the scents of many strange cats.

Now Tigerclaw’s scent proved he had been here again. Fireheart still could not tell whether he had met the other cats, or whether their scents just happened to have crossed. But why should Tigerclaw come so close to the Twolegplace, when he despised Twolegs and everything to do with them?

“Fireheart, can we go and see my mother now?” Cloudpaw demanded.

“Can you smell dogs? Or fresh Twoleg scent?”

Cloudpaw sniffed again and shook his head.

“Then let’s go,” mewed Fireheart. Looking carefully around, he stepped out into the open. Cloudpaw followed him with exaggerated caution, as if he wanted to show Fireheart how quickly he could learn.

Since his apprentice ceremony the day before, Cloudpaw had been unusually quiet. He was obviously trying very hard to be a good apprentice, listening to everything Fireheart told him with wide-eyed seriousness. But Fireheart couldn’t help asking himself how long this uncharacteristic humility would last. Instructing Cloudpaw to wait, he leaped onto the fence and looked down into the garden. Lurid-colored flowers grew against the fence, and in the center of the grass some Twoleg pelts hung on a spiky, leafless tree. “Princess?” he called softly. “Princess, are you there?”

Leaves quivered on a shrub close to the house, and the tabby-and-white figure of Princess stepped delicately onto the grass. When she saw him she let out a delighted meow. “Fireheart!”

Bounding over to the fence, she sprang up beside him and pressed her cheek against his. “Fireheart, it’s been such a long time!” she purred. “It’s good to see you.”

“I’ve brought someone else, too,” Fireheart told her. “Look down there.”

Princess peered over the fence to where Cloudpaw sat on the ground below, looking up at her. “Fireheart!” she exclaimed. “That’s couldn’t be Cloudkit! He’s grown so much!”

Without waiting to be told, Cloudpaw leaped for the top of the fence, paws scrabbling madly against the smooth wood. Fireheart leant over and fastened his teeth in his scruff to pull him up the last couple of mouse-lengths so that he could sit on the fence beside his mother.

Cloudpaw looked at Princess with wide blue eyes. “Are you really my mother?” he asked.

“I really am,” Princess purred, looking her son up and down admiringly. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again, Cloudkit.”

“Actually, I’m not Cloudkit,” the fluffy white tom announced proudly. “I’m Cloudpaw now. I’m an apprentice.”

“That’s wonderful!” Princess began to cover her son with licks, purring so hard that she barely had breath enough for words. “Oh, you’re so thin…do you get enough to eat? Have you made friends where you are? I hope you do what Fireheart tells you.”

Cloudpaw didn’t try to answer the flood of questions. He wriggled out from his mother’s caresses and edged away from her along the fence. “I’ll be a warrior soon,” he boasted. “Fireheart’s teaching me to fight.”

Princess closed her eyes for a moment. “You will have to be so brave,” she murmured. For a moment Fireheart thought she was regretting her decision to give her son to the Clan, but then she opened her eyes again and declared, “I’m so proud of both of you!”

Cloudpaw sat even taller as he lapped up her attention. He twisted his head to groom himself with rapid strokes of h

is small pink tongue, and while he was distracted Fireheart whispered, “Princess, do you ever see any strange cats around here?”

“Strange cats?” She looked puzzled, and Fireheart wondered if there was any point in asking the question. Princess wouldn’t know rogues or loners from ordinary ThunderClan cats.

Then Princess shivered. “Yes, I’ve heard them yowling in the night. My Twoleg gets up and shouts at them.”

“You haven’t seen a big, dark tabby?” Fireheart asked, his heart starting to pound. “A tom with a scarred muzzle?”

Princess shook her head, eyes wide. “I’ve only heard them, not seen them.”

“If you do see the dark tabby, stay away from him,” Fireheart warned. He didn’t know what Tigerclaw was up to so far from the camp, if it really was Tigerclaw, but he didn’t want Princess going near the deputy, just in case.