Fire And Ice

Fireheart waited anxiously. The kit’s cries grew louder. It could smell Brindleface’s milk and began to squirm blindly toward her soft belly. It nuzzled its way between Brindleface’s other two kits. Brindleface looked down as it wriggled forward, following her milk-scent. She watched, without resisting, as he latched onto her belly and began to suckle. Fireheart ached with relief and gratitude as he saw Brindleface’s eyes soften and the white kittypet began to purr, kneading her swollen stomach with tiny paws.

Frostfur nodded. “Thank you, Brindleface. Can I tell Bluestar that you will care for the kit?”

“Yes,” replied Brindleface quietly, not taking her eyes off the white kit. She nudged him closer to her belly with one hind paw.

Fireheart purred and bent his head to nose her shoulder. “Thank you. I promise I’ll bring you extra fresh-kill every day.”

“I’ll go and tell Bluestar,” meowed Frostfur.

Fireheart looked up at the white queen, stirred by her kindness. “Thank you,” he mewed.

“No kit deserves to starve, Clanborn or not.” Frostfur turned and pushed her way out of the brambles.

“You can go now,” Brindleface murmured to Fireheart. “Your kit will be safe with me.”

Fireheart nodded and followed Frostfur out into the rain. He thought about returning to his den, but until he’d heard Bluestar’s decision about the kit, he knew he could not settle.

As he paced around the clearing, his fur matting into wet clumps, he saw Frostfur slip out of Bluestar’s den and hurry back to the nursery.

Willowpelt was preparing to lead evening patrol out of the camp when Bluestar finally came out of her den. Fireheart stopped, his heart pounding so fast he thought his legs would give way under him. Bluestar leaped onto the Highrock and began the familiar summons. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather below the Highrock.”

The patrol turned away from the camp entrance and padded after Willowpelt, back toward the Highrock. The rest of the Clan began to leave their dry nests, grumbling about the rain. Tigerclaw leaped onto the rock beside Bluestar, his face grim.

They’re going to make me take him back, thought Fireheart. His breath began to come in shallow gasps. Darker thoughts pushed their way into Fireheart’s mind. What if Bluestar asks Tigerclaw to abandon him in the forest? He’ll never survive. Oh, StarClan, what am I going to say to Princess?

When all the cats were settled, Bluestar spoke. “Cats of ThunderClan, no cat can deny that we need warriors. We have lost one cat to greencough already, and there are many moons until newleaf. Cinderpaw has been gravely injured, and she will never be a warrior. As Graystripe rightly pointed out…”

Fireheart heard Dustpaw whispering nearby, “Graystripe’s turning into a kittypet himself these days!” He turned his head sharply, but a warning hiss from one of the elders silenced Dustpaw before Fireheart could say anything.

“As Graystripe pointed out,” Bluestar repeated, “this kittypet carries Fireheart’s blood. There is every chance the kit will make a fine warrior.” Some of the Clan glanced at Fireheart, who had barely heard Bluestar’s compliment. Hope was surging in his chest, making him dizzy.

Bluestar paused for a moment to survey the cats in front of her. “I have decided we will take this kit into the Clan,” she declared.

No cat made a sound. Fireheart wanted to yowl his thanks to StarClan, but he held his tongue. He took his first deep breath since sunhigh. His own kin was going to be part of ThunderClan!

“Brindleface has offered to nurse it,” Bluestar went on, “so Fireheart will take on the duty of providing for her.” The Clan leader met Fireheart’s eyes, but he couldn’t read her expression. “Finally, the kit should have a name. It shall be known as Cloudkit.”

“Will there be a naming ceremony?” Mousefur called from the crowd.

Fireheart looked eagerly up at the Highrock. Would his sister’s kit be granted this privilege, as he had been when the Clan had formally accepted him?

Bluestar looked down at Mousefur, her eyes cold. “No,” she answered.

Chapter 22

The days leading up to the next full moon dragged by slowly for Fireheart. It already seemed ages since the last Gathering. Rain clouds had kept the moon covered the last time, and the Clans had stayed away from Fourtrees. Meanwhile patrol after patrol reported scenting RiverClan warriors at Sunningrocks, and ShadowClan scent had been discovered again by the Owl Tree.