Forest of Secrets (Warriors 6)

Mistyfoot stood her ground; Fireheart couldn’t help feeling daunted by the look of blank hostility in her eyes. Had he been stupid to think that RiverClan would help him?

“I kept your secret about him,” Mistyfoot reminded Silverstream, jerking her chin at Graystripe. “But I’m not going to keep quiet if you start bringing the whole of ThunderClan here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Silverstream retorted.

“It’s all right, Mistyfoot,” Fireheart put in quickly. “We haven’t taken any of your prey, and we’re not here to spy. We need to speak to a cat who fought in the battle at Sunningrocks, where Oakheart died.”

“Why?” Mistyfoot narrowed her eyes.

“It’s…hard to explain,” Fireheart mewed. “But it’s nothing that could harm RiverClan. I swear that by StarClan,” he added.

The young queen seemed to relax, and this time she let Silverstream urge her forward until she was sitting beside Fireheart.

Graystripe stood up, ducking his head to avoid the low-hanging branches. “If you two are going to talk, Silverstream and I will leave you to it.”

Fireheart opened his mouth to protest, alarmed at the idea of being left alone in enemy territory. But Graystripe and Silverstream were already slipping out of the bushes.

Just before they vanished among the tough hawthorn branches, Graystripe looked back. “Oh, Fireheart,” he meowed quietly, “before you go back, make sure you roll in something strong, to hide the RiverClan scent.” He blinked in embarrassment. “Fox dung is good.”

“Wait, Graystripe—” Fireheart jumped to his paws. But it was no use. Graystripe and Silverstream were gone.

“Don’t worry,” meowed Mistyfoot behind him. “I won’t eat you. You’d give me bellyache.” Fireheart turned back to see her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re Fireheart, aren’t you?” she went on. “I’ve seen you at Gatherings. They say you used to be a kittypet.” Her voice was cool, with thinly veiled suspicion.

“That’s true,” Fireheart admitted heavily, feeling the familiar sting at the contempt of Clanborn cats for his past. “But I’m a warrior now.”

Mistyfoot licked her paw and drew it slowly over one ear, keeping her eyes fixed on his face. “All right,” she meowed at last. “I fought in the battle. What do you want to know?”

Fireheart paused for a moment, putting his thoughts in order. He would have only one chance to find out the truth; he mustn’t make any mistakes.

“Get on with it,” growled Mistyfoot. “I’ve left my kits to come and talk to you.”

“It won’t take long,” Fireheart promised. “What can you tell me about the way Oakheart died?”

“Oakheart?” Mistyfoot looked down at her paws. After a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to Fireheart again. “Oakheart was my father; did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t,” mewed Fireheart. “I’m sorry. I never met him, but they say he was a brave warrior.”

“He was the best and the bravest,” Mistyfoot agreed. “And he should never have died. It was an accident.”

Fireheart felt his heart begin to race. This was exactly what he needed to know! “Are you sure?” he asked. “No cat killed him?”

“He was wounded in the battle, but not enough to kill him,” meowed Mistyfoot. “Afterward, we found his body under some fallen rocks. Our medicine cat said that was what killed him.”

“So no cat was responsible…” Fireheart muttered. “Ravenpaw was right.”

“What?” The blue-gray queen frowned.

“Nothing,” Fireheart meowed hastily. “Nothing important. Thank you, Mistyfoot. That’s just what I wanted to know.”

“Then if that’s all—”

“No, Mistyfoot, wait! There’s one more thing. In the battle, one of our cats heard Oakheart say that no ThunderClan cat should harm Stonefur. Do you know what he meant by that?”

The RiverClan queen was silent for a while, her blue eyes gazing into the distance. Then she shook her head firmly, as if she were flicking water off it. “Stonefur is my brother,” she mewed.

“Then Oakheart was his father, too,” Fireheart realized. “Is that why he wanted to protect him from ThunderClan cats?”

“No!” Mistyfoot’s eyes flashed blue fire. “Oakheart never tried to protect either of us. He wanted us to be warriors like him, and bring honor to the Clan.”

“Then why…?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded as if she was genuinely puzzled.

Fireheart tried not to feel disappointed. At least he knew for certain now how Oakheart had died. But he couldn’t shake off the feeling that what Oakheart had said about Stonefur was important, if only he could understand it.

“My mother might know,” Mistyfoot meowed unexpectedly. Fireheart turned back to her, his ears pricked. “Graypool,” she added. “If she can’t explain it, no cat can.”

“Could you ask her?”

“Maybe…” Mistyfoot’s expression was still guarded, but Fireheart guessed that she was as curious about the meaning of Oakheart’s words as he was himself. “But it might be better for you to speak to her yourself.”

Fireheart blinked in surprise that Mistyfoot should suggest such a thing, when she had seemed so hostile at first. “Can I?” he asked. “Now?”

“No,” Mistyfoot decided after a pause. “It’s too risky for you to stay here any longer. Leopardfur’s patrol will be back soon. Besides, Graypool is an elder now, and hardly ever leaves the camp. She’ll take some persuading before she’ll come out. But don’t worry; I’ll think of a reason.”

Fireheart bowed his head in reluctant agreement. Part of him was wildly impatient to he

ar what Graypool had to say, but the rest of him knew that Mistyfoot was right. “How will I know where to meet her?”

“I’ll send a message with Silverstream,” Mistyfoot promised. “Now go. If Leopardfur finds you here, I won’t be able to help you.”

Fireheart blinked at her. He would have liked to give the young queen a lick of gratitude, but he was afraid of getting a clawed ear in return. Mistyfoot seemed to have gotten over the worst of her hostility, but she wasn’t going to let him forget that they came from two different Clans.

“Thank you, Mistyfoot,” he meowed. “I won’t forget this. And if ever I can do anything for you—”

“Just go!” Mistyfoot hissed. As Fireheart slipped past her toward the gap in the bushes, she added with a purr of amusement, “And don’t forget the fox dung.”

CHAPTER 5

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Fireheart muttered as he pushed through the gorse tunnel into his own camp.

He had found some fresh fox dung in the forest, and rolled in it until he reeked. No cat would ever guess he had been into RiverClan territory now. Whether they would let him into the warriors’ den was another matter. At least he had managed to catch a squirrel on his way back, so he wasn’t returning empty-pawed.

As he emerged from the gorse tunnel, Fireheart saw Bluestar standing on top of the Highrock. He realized he had just missed hearing her call the Clan together, because other cats were appearing from their dens to gather below her.

Fireheart left his squirrel on the pile of fresh-kill and padded over to join them. Across the clearing, Brindleface’s kits tumbled out of the nursery, followed by Brindleface herself. Fireheart could easily pick out his sister’s son, Cloudkit, by his gleaming white fur. Princess, Fireheart’s sister who still lived in Twolegplace, had no wish to leave the comfortable life of a kittypet, but Fireheart’s tales of Clan life had captivated her, and she had given her eldest son to the Clan.