Firestar's Quest (11 page)

“I'm not sure,” Firestar replied. “But I know that SkyClan need help that only I can give.”

“And what if that help means sharing ThunderClan territory with them?”

“It won't. The SkyClan cat said there would be a place for them to live.”

Sandstorm didn't look reassured. “What if he's wrong?”

Meeting the challenge in his mate's green eyes, Firestar realized he couldn't answer.

 

The gorge came to an end, and the cliffs sloped down to rejoin the river as shallow, sandy banks once more. Firestar breathed a sigh of relief when they crossed the border scent markings and left WindClan territory behind. Soon after, the moor gave way to farmland, small fields divided by Twoleg paths and hedges; Firestar led the way down a narrow track between a hedge and a field of wheat.

“Smell those mice!” Sandstorm exclaimed. “I'm starving!”

She plunged in among the crackling stems, and, with a quick look around for dogs or Twolegs, Firestar followed. He caught one mouse with a swift blow of his paw as it ran along a furrow, and a second only heartbeats later. Carrying his prey to the edge of the field he found Sandstorm already there, crouching down to eat.

Firestar joined her, water flooding his jaws at the warm scent of food. Neither of them would take prey from another Clan's territory, so they hadn't eaten since they left ThunderClan that morning. When the last bite was gone, Firestar swiped his tongue around his jaws and arched his back in a long stretch. “Let's rest for a bit,” he suggested. “If we wait until sunset, there won't be so many Twolegs about.”

Sandstorm yawned, murmured agreement, and curled up in a patch of sunlight. Settling down beside her, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his fur and the comfortable fullness of
his belly, Firestar tried to imagine how SkyClan had felt when they came this way. They must have been terrified, driven out of their home with no clear idea of where they were going. And so many cats—a whole Clan!—would be terribly vulnerable to dogs or foxes. He looked around, searching the shadowy places under the hedge for a familiar pale pelt, and strained his ears to catch the sound of the lost Clan's wailing. But all he could hear was the rustle of wind in the wheat and birdsong high in the sky. He blinked drowsily, rasped his tongue a few times over Sandstorm's ear, and slept.

Loud voices broke into his dreams. Not the yowls of the fleeing cats of SkyClan, but real, and closer, and getting even louder. Firestar scrambled to his paws to see Sandstorm standing rigid beside him, her pelt bristling as she stared up the line of the hedge. Coming toward them were two young Twolegs and a brown-and-white dog. The dog ran a little way ahead of its Twolegs, then bounced back to them, letting out a flurry of high-pitched yaps.

“Into the hedge!” Firestar ordered.

Thorns tearing at his pelt, he flattened his belly to the ground and crept into the middle of the hedge. Then he began to claw his way up the trunk of a hawthorn bush, forcing the spiny branches to let him through.

Sandstorm was scrabbling her way up another bush, but the branches crisscrossed so thickly that she came to a stop, unable to go any farther. Her green gaze, full of terror and frustration, met Firestar's.

The dog was whining alongside the hedge. Firestar caught
a glimpse of it trying to thrust its way through a gap, its tongue lolling and its white teeth gleaming.

“It's found our scent,” Sandstorm whispered.

Firestar searched for a way to reach her and drag her higher, but they were separated by too many prickly branches. The dog's forepaws tore at the earth as it tried to force its way through the gap to reach the cats. Its jaws were no more than a tail-length away from Sandstorm's hind paws.

Then Firestar heard a Twoleg yowling. A Twoleg paw appeared in the gap, grabbed the dog's collar, and dragged it out again. The dog let out a bark of protest. Firestar waited, hardly daring to breathe, as the sounds died away and the scents of dog and Twolegs gradually faded.

“I think they've gone,” he murmured. “Stay there while I check.”

Leaving tufts of his flame-colored fur on the thorns, he crept to the edge of the bushes and looked out warily. The wheatfield was empty, the rays of the setting sun pouring over it like honey.

“It's okay,” Firestar meowed, glancing back to where Sandstorm still clung to her branch.

He padded a little farther out, taking deep breaths as he tried to control his trembling. It was Sandstorm's danger, not his own, that had turned his blood to ice. Would it have been easier to have made this journey on his own, with no other cat to worry about? But when Sandstorm joined him, shaken but unhurt, he kept the disloyal thought to himself.

 

They padded through the night, under the light of the half-moon. This was the best time to travel without being seen, and they kept going until both cats were too weary to take another pawstep. They found a place to sleep in a hollow among the roots of a beech tree.

For the next two days they continued to follow the river through fields of wheat that stretched as far as they could see on either side. On the third day they left the fields and slid through a gap in the hedge onto a stretch of rough grass that sloped gently down to the river. Rushes thickly fringed the bank. Hot gusts of wind rattled them together; as Firestar drew closer he picked up the scents of voles and waterbirds, and heard small creatures rustling among the stems. The sun was going down, turning the river to flame.

Before they had gone far along the bank, Firestar heard the roaring of monsters in the distance. Tasting the air, he picked up a familiar harsh tang. “There's a Thunderpath up ahead.”

“Then we'll have to cross it.” Sandstorm's tail twitched. “There might not be so many monsters out now.”

Soon Firestar made out a line of trees, black against the scarlet sky. The setting sun glinted on the bright, unnatural colors of swift-pawed monsters. Rounding a bend in the river, he caught sight of a Twoleg bridge made of stone, with monsters hurtling across it.

“The Thunderpath goes over the river. We'll be safe underneath.” Sandstorm sounded pleased.

But Firestar felt uneasy as they approached the bridge. It
cast a dark shadow over the path, and as the daylight died the monsters shot brilliant beams of light from their eyes, sweeping across the riverbank. He froze as one beam picked them out, and heard a gasp from Sandstorm, but the monster snarled and rushed on.

Firestar let out a sigh of relief. “It didn't spot us.”

“I don't like this,” Sandstorm meowed. “Let's get out of here.”

Firestar let her take the lead as they ran under the bridge. The stones were damp, and water dripped from the arch into the river. From the depths of the shadows Firestar saw the light beams of another monster, approaching fast along the Thunderpath above their heads. Suddenly its roar was all around them, echoing and reechoing from stone and water. Firestar froze, imagining the creature's huge jaws parted to swallow them.

Sandstorm let out a panic-stricken yowl. “Run!”

Terror crashed through Firestar; his legs propelled him forward until he was racing along the riverbank. He fled along the edge of the reed beds until the bridge was left far behind and he couldn't hear the monsters above the rasping of his own breath.

Only exhaustion slowed him down. He stood panting on the bank, his paws stinging and every hair on his pelt bristling. Sandstorm crouched beside him, looking back the way they had come, her tail lashing.

“Are you okay?” she asked when she had caught her breath.

Firestar tried to make his pelt lie flat. “I thought we were
crow-food for sure. And I feel I've lost every scrap of skin from my pads. I don't know if we'll be able to go much farther tonight.”

Sandstorm's eyes gleamed in the gathering darkness, and she parted her jaws to taste the air. “Wait there,” she instructed, and vanished through the reeds toward the water's edge.

“What—” Firestar broke off as he realized she had gone. Collapsing onto one side, he licked his stinging pads until his mate reappeared, carrying a bunch of broad leaves in her jaws.

“Dock,” she announced, dropping the leaves beside Firestar. “Rub it on your pads. Cinderpelt said there's nothing better for soreness.”

“Thanks.” Firestar blinked gratefully at her and rubbed his pads against the surface of the leaf. The cool juices soothed the discomfort, and he stretched his jaws in a yawn; it would be good to sleep, but there was still light in the sky, and he knew they should go on for as long as they could.

The river chattered swiftly through the rushes, narrower than where it flowed through the forest. Looking back the way they had come, Firestar saw a single warrior of StarClan shining in the sky. Just below it, hills stood up like jagged teeth, and Firestar realized that he was gazing back at Highstones; that last glimpse of the world he had known made him feel lonelier and more lost than ever.

He shook his head and stood up. “The dock leaves worked fine,” he meowed. “Come on. We'd better try to get a bit farther.”

Sandstorm gave her pads a last rub on the leaves and got up to follow him. Instead of being comforted by her presence, Firestar wondered if she really understood what was driving him to make this journey, and if she was wishing that she had stayed at home in ThunderClan.

The breeze dropped; although the sun had gone, the night was hot and sticky. Clouds gathered in the sky, spreading until they covered the moon and stars.

“I can't see my paws in front of me,” Firestar muttered. “At this rate, we'll end up in the river.”

“We'd better stop for the night,” mewed Sandstorm. Firestar could just make out her pale ginger shape in the gloom, her head raised as she tasted the air. “There's a strong scent of vole,” she went on. “Suppose I hunt, while you find us a place to sleep.”

“Fine.” Firestar knew his mate was the best hunter in ThunderClan. “Don't go too far, though.”

“I won't.” Sandstorm slipped away into the darkness.

More by scent than sight, Firestar located a clump of reeds and circled in the middle of them, trampling them down until he had created a makeshift nest. He sighed as he remembered the comfort of his den under the Highrock.

Before he had finished, Sandstorm reappeared with two voles hanging from her jaws. She dropped them and pushed one over to Firestar. “We won't starve, at least,” she meowed. “There's plenty of prey, and they act like they've never seen a cat before.”

So SkyClan doesn't hunt around here,
Firestar thought as he
gulped down his vole.
There's still a long way to go
.

He curled up, wrapping his tail over his nose, and tried to sleep in the stifling darkness. Though Sandstorm lay close enough for her pelt to touch his, he felt as if she were farther away than the hidden stars.

Raucous quacking sounded in Firestar's ear.
He jumped up, staring around wildly until he spotted a duck in the water beside the reed bed. As he watched, it took off, speeding low over the river with whirring wings. At the same moment, Firestar felt the ground begin to shake with the heavy tramp of Twoleg feet.

Sandstorm looked up. “What—”

Firestar slapped the end of his tail over her mouth. “Ssshh! Twolegs.”

Peering out of the reeds, he saw three male Twolegs walking up the riverbank toward him. All of them carried the long, thin sticks that Twolegs held over the water to catch fish. To his relief there was no sign of a dog.

Firestar stayed very still while the Twolegs passed his hiding place and disappeared downstream. Then he beckoned Sandstorm with his tail. “Let's get out of here.”

With his mate just behind him he ran lightly along the bank in the shadow of the reeds until the Twoleg scent faded. Then he paused to catch his breath, anxiously scanning the sky. Thick cloud still covered it, yellowish gray and seeming
low enough to touch the tops of the trees. The air was hotter than the night before, and utterly still.

“There's a storm coming,” Sandstorm meowed. “It'll break before nightfall.”

Firestar nodded. “Then we'd better get moving, as fast as we can.”

They set off again, side by side, at a steady, loping pace. In spite of what he said about needing to hurry, when he thought about what might be happening back in the forest Firestar's courage seemed to be draining out through his paws, and it was hard not to turn around and go racing home to his Clan. What if the badger had come back? How would the other Clans react when they discovered he had gone? Only a few moons ago, they had all been united against BloodClan. But how long would that alliance survive? Leopardstar would steal back the Sunningrocks if she thought she could get away with it, while Blackstar would take any opportunity to extend ShadowClan's territory. Firestar suddenly felt scared and exposed; he had left the forest and the warrior code far behind him, and he wasn't sure any longer that he knew why.

He wanted to share his fears with Sandstorm, but every time he glanced at her, padding alongside, her green gaze fixed intently on the path ahead, the words died in his throat. He didn't dare ask her if she thought he had made the wrong decision, in case she said yes.

As they continued along the riverbank, the air seemed to grow hotter and more oppressive. Firestar panted with thirst,
which the river water quenched for only a few heartbeats. Sandstorm surprised a vole slipping from a hole in the bank into the water, tossed it into the air, and killed it as it hit the ground again.

“Great catch!” Firestar exclaimed.

Sandstorm's eyes shone with pride as she dragged the fresh-kill over to him so that they could share it. For a few moments Firestar was warmed by a sense of their old companionship, but he still didn't feel he could share his worries with his mate. What if she insisted on going back to the forest?

They had hardly moved off again after eating when Firestar picked up a strong scent of dog from ahead, and heard the sound of Twoleg voices. Sandstorm had heard them too. Flicking her tail to beckon him, she raced away from the river to a clump of elder bushes growing a few fox-lengths farther up the bank. Firestar followed, clawing his way up the trunk and crouching beside Sandstorm on the lowest branch.

Through the leaves he could see a couple of Twolegs walking past, with two dogs bouncing around them. One of them suddenly took off for the trees, barking loudly.

“It's scented us,” Firestar mewed.

He felt Sandstorm tense; her lips drew back in the beginnings of a snarl and her claws scraped on the branch.

Then one of the Twolegs yowled loudly. The dog skidded to a halt, then turned and trotted back, glancing once or twice over its shoulder as it went.

“Good riddance,” Sandstorm muttered.

Waiting until the Twolegs and their dogs were well away, Firestar looked out from his perch to get a better view of what lay upriver. “Twoleg nests,” he meowed.

Sandstorm gave a disgusted sniff. “I suppose our luck couldn't last. Wherever there are Twolegs, there's trouble.”

Firestar could see only the tops of the Twoleg nests from the elder bush, but when he and Sandstorm continued upstream the first one soon came into full view, very close to the edge of the river.

“Look at it!” Sandstorm halted, swishing her tail in disgust. “It's
swarming
with Twolegs.”

Firestar stopped beside her, puzzled. Most Twoleg nests held only a Twoleg and his mate, and maybe their kits. But there were far more than that outside this nest, too many to count. Most of the adults were sitting around, eating Twoleg food, while their kits ran shrieking down to the river to throw stones in the water. Some of the Twolegs yowled at them, but the kits didn't take any notice.

“Don't they ever apprentice their young?” Sandstorm asked with a sigh.

“If we stay on the riverbank we'll have to go right through the middle of them,” Firestar meowed. “We'd be spotted for sure. We'll have to go around.”

A white wooden fence enclosed the nest and the Twolegs, leading down to the river. Skirting it, Firestar led the way up the bank and around the back of the nest. Close to the nest wall, where he would have expected to find a garden, was a wide space covered with the same hard black stuff as a
Thunderpath. Several monsters were crouching there.

“Are they asleep?” Sandstorm whispered.

As if in answer to her question, one of the monsters broke into a throaty roar and began to creep slowly away from the others and through a gap in the fence onto a small Thunderpath. Then it leaped forward and dashed away, passing two other monsters on their way in.

Firestar felt his pelt bristle. Crossing a Thunderpath was bad enough, but here he felt as if the crouching monsters were watching him, ready to spring as soon as he ventured onto the hard surface.

Setting down his paws as lightly as if he were stalking a mouse, his belly fur brushing the grass, he crept up to the edge of the Thunderpath. There were shrubs for cover on the other side, but he didn't dare dart across yet. He could hear the growling of another monster, and a few heartbeats later it sped down the Thunderpath, slowed at the gap in the fence, then went to sleep beside the others near the nest. A couple of Twolegs emerged from its belly.

“Run when I say ‘now,'” he murmured to Sandstorm.

“Get on with it, then,” she replied edgily.

Firestar's gaze flicked from the nest to the Thunderpath and back again. Everything was still. “Okay, now!”

He sprang forward with Sandstorm beside him. At the same moment, the snarl of a waking monster broke out near the nest. Firestar flung himself forward and hurtled into the bushes, where he squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to stop shaking.

“It spotted us!” Sandstorm gasped, thrusting her way into cover beside him. “But it can't follow us in here.”

Firestar hoped she was right. When he opened his eyes and peered through the leaves he could make out the monster's gleaming color as it prowled onto the Thunderpath and paused. Was it trying to scent them? Surely it would be hard for a monster to scent anything except its own harsh reek. All the same, Firestar's breathing didn't slow until the monster gave up and went on, its roar dying away into the distance.

“Okay, let's go,” he mewed. He would have liked to rest for a bit longer, but he hated this weird nest crammed with Twolegs, and their monsters that seemed to have learned how to hunt.

Sandstorm muttered agreement; both cats pushed their way through the shrubs until they reached the river. Firestar's pelt didn't lie flat until they had rounded a bend and left the Twoleg nest far behind.

By the time the next Twoleg nest came into sight, Firestar guessed that sunhigh was long past, though there was no sun to be seen. The clouds had darkened and a sharp wind had picked up, bringing the scent of rain. White-flecked ripples appeared on the river; in the distance Firestar heard the rumble of thunder. The storm would break soon.

Sandstorm stopped to taste the air. “Mice!” she exclaimed. “The scent's coming from that nest.”

“Are you sure?” Firestar asked.

He broke off at Sandstorm's scathing look. Without bothering to reply, she stalked toward the nest.

“Hey, wait!” Firestar broke into a run to catch up with her. “You don't know what's in there.”

“I know what
isn't
. There's no Twoleg scent, no dogs.” Sandstorm sighed. “Do you want fresh-kill, Firestar, or don't you?”

Firestar had to admit that his belly was yowling with hunger. All day so far they had done nothing but avoid Twolegs. There had been no chance to hunt. “Okay, but…”

Ignoring him, Sandstorm prowled closer to the nest. Following her, Firestar realized that she was right about the scent: lots of mice, but no trace of Twolegs or dogs. The nest looked abandoned. The door sagged open, and the square holes in the walls were dark and empty. There had been a wooden fence around the garden once, but most of it was broken down and rotting, while the garden itself was overgrown.

Sandstorm crept up to the door and paused to taste the air again before she slipped inside. Firestar followed, the powerful aroma of mouse flooding over him as he entered.

Inside the light was gray and cold, filtering through dusty air. A thick layer of dust and debris covered the floor. On either side, doors to separate dens stood open, while straight ahead an uneven slope led to a higher level. Sandstorm began to climb upward.

“Be careful,” Firestar warned her.

Her tail twitched. “Stay here and keep watch.”

Firestar waited at the bottom of the slope until Sandstorm had vanished. Then, ears pricked for the sound of danger, he
padded through the empty dens. Every tiny movement woke an echo; Firestar found himself remembering what it had been like when he lived with his Twolegs, before he had ever set paw in the forest. Their nest had been warm and cozy, the floors covered with thick padding that muffled every sound. The holes in the walls were filled with shiny stuff like ice, and pelts hung there to be drawn across at night. The Twolegs had slept in a den on the higher level, while he stayed in the…What was the name of the den where they ate food? Yes—the
kitchen
.

The unfamiliar word popped into his mind as he stood in the empty nest. The trickle of memory was becoming a flood; Firestar thought of Hattie and Smudge, living happily with their housefolk. Would he have been as happy if he had stayed, if he had never known the excitement of stalking prey in the rustling shadow of leaves, never curled up in the warriors' den beside his Clanmates, never fought for his Clan or shouldered the burden of being their leader?

No
. Even in the Twoleg nest, he had walked the forest in his dreams. When he joined ThunderClan he knew that he had found the place where he belonged. But if ThunderClan meant so much to him, why had he left to help a Clan who had been driven from the forest so long ago that no Clan remembered them? Was it enough that he felt he was doing the right thing?

He started at the sound of a pawstep behind him and spun around to see Sandstorm padding into the kitchen with the limp body of a mouse in her jaws.

“You look as if you've got a lot on your mind,” she meowed, dropping the fresh-kill. “What's the problem?”

Firestar shook his head. “Nothing important.”

Sandstorm held his gaze for a heartbeat as if she didn't believe him, but she said nothing more.

Crouching side by side, they shared the mouse. Outside the wind had grown stronger, buffeting the nest and hurling sharp rain at the walls and through the holes to spatter in the dust on the floor.

“Maybe we should stay here overnight,” Sandstorm suggested.

Firestar knew she was right. They could catch more prey and sleep full-fed until the storm was over. But the walls of the Twoleg nest seemed to be closing in on him. He couldn't bear to be inside any longer, struggling with old memories. He wasn't a kittypet anymore, and this wasn't where he belonged!

“No,” he mewed. “It's not dark yet. We can't waste the rest of the day.”

Sandstorm opened her jaws to argue, but something in Firestar's face must have stopped her, because she followed him without protest as he led the way out of the nest.

The wind battered Firestar as soon as he emerged. Rain slapped him in the face and soaked his fur within heartbeats. He knew it would be more sensible to go back, but pride wouldn't let him change his mind. Lowering his head, he fought his way into the wind and down to the riverbank.

The river had changed since he and Sandstorm had left it
to enter the nest. The water level had risen much higher, churning with muddy brown waves that slopped against the top of the bank. Wind lashed the reeds, blowing them nearly flat; the stems whipped the cats' fur with stinging blows as they battled through the gloom. The waning moon showed fitfully among the clouds, its faint light useless to guide their pawsteps.

Firestar heard an angry hiss from Sandstorm, and knew she thought they should find shelter, but he also knew that she was too stubborn to ask twice. He was desperate to keep going, whatever the weather, to find SkyClan and reassure himself that he had been right to leave the forest.

Soon the river rose higher still, washing through the reeds and around the cats' paws. On the side away from the river they were hemmed in by bushes, the thorny branches growing too thickly for them to force a way through. Lightning stabbed down from the sky, followed almost at once by a crack of thunder right overhead, as loud as if the sky were splitting into fragments. The cold light turned the driving rain to silver and shone blackly on Firestar's and Sandstorm's drenched pelts, plastered against their bodies.

At the next flash Firestar looked up and thought he caught a glimpse of the SkyClan cat's face in the rolling purple clouds. Before he could be sure, the face changed to Bluestar's. Firestar thought she was gazing down at him with a pleading expression, as if she was terrified for her former Clanmates and wanted them to turn back. Firestar wanted to yowl a question to her, but at that moment lightning split the
sky again and the face vanished.