Fire And Ice

“ShadowClan isn’t to blame for this!” cried Yellowfang. “This is Brokenstar and his old warrior friends. I was ShadowClan’s medicine cat. I was there at their kitting. I know their scents as well as I know my own.” She paused. “You must find Tigerclaw and stop him. He will be making a terrible mistake if he attacks them!”

The blood roared in Fireheart’s ears, making him dizzy. What should he do? “But I’m the only warrior left!” he meowed breathlessly to Yellowfang. “What if Brokenstar attacks the camp while I’m gone? He’s done it before. He might have left the bones as a trap so that our camp was left unguarded.”

“You must tell Tigerclaw before he—” Yellowfang pleaded, but Fireheart shook his head.

“I can’t leave you all alone.”

“Then I shall go!” Yellowfang hissed.

“No! I’ll go!” meowed Sandpaw.

Fireheart looked from one cat to the other. He couldn’t afford to send either—their strength and training were needed here to protect the Clan. But Yellowfang was right; innocent blood couldn’t be shed. Brokenstar was the invader here; ThunderClan had no quarrel with ShadowClan. He would have to send another cat. He closed his eyes and thought hard. The answer came in a moment. “Brackenpaw!” Fireheart hissed, opening his eyes wide. He called the apprentice’s name out loud.

The young cat pushed his way out of his den and padded across the clearing toward Fireheart. “What is it?” he asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

“I have an urgent mission for you,” Fireheart told him.

Brackenpaw shook himself and stood taller. “Yes, Fireheart,” he mewed.

“You must find Tigerclaw. He’s taken a raiding party to attack a ShadowClan patrol. Stop him and tell him that it was Brokenstar who has been invading our territory!” Brackenpaw’s eyes widened with alarm, but Fireheart went on: “You might have to cross the Thunderpath. I know you haven’t been trained…” Images of Cinderpaw’s broken body flashed in Fireheart’s mind, but he forced them away. He looked deep into Brackenpaw’s eyes. “You must find Tigerclaw,” he repeated, “or there will be a war between the Clans for no reason!”

Brackenpaw nodded, his eyes calm and filled with purpose. “I’ll find him,” the tabby apprentice promised.

“May StarClan go with you,” Fireheart murmured, reaching forward to touch Brackenpaw’s flank with his nose.

Brackenpaw turned and sprinted out through the gorse tunnel. Fireheart watched him go, struggling to keep calm. Cinderpaw…the Thunderpath…the images kept flashing back. Fireheart shook his head to clear it. There was no time to worry now. If Brokenstar was in ThunderClan territory, the camp had to prepare for an attack.

“What’s happening?” Dustpaw had emerged from the apprentices’ den. Fireheart glanced at him, ran to the head of the clearing, and scrambled up onto the Highrock. The clearing seemed a long way below his trembling legs. He swallowed hard and began the customary call. “Let all cats old enough to…” But the words were taking too long! “The camp is in danger. Come here now!” he yowled urgently.

The elders and queens rushed from their dens, followed by their kits. They looked bewildered when they saw Fireheart on top of the Highrock. Cinderpaw limped out of the fern tunnel and looked up at Fireheart with a strong, bright gaze. When Fireheart saw her, the camp suddenly stopped swaying beneath him.

“What’s going on?” demanded One-eye, the oldest ThunderClan cat. “What do you think you’re doing up there?”

Fireheart didn’t hesitate. “Brokenstar is back. He might be in ThunderClan territory right now. All our other warriors are out of the camp. If Brokenstar attacks, we must be ready. Kits and elders stay in the nursery. The rest of you must be ready to fight—”

A menacing yowl from the camp entrance cut short Fireheart’s speech. A lean dark brown tabby with matted fur and torn ears strode into the camp. His bristling tail was bent in the middle like a broken branch.

“Brokenstar!” Fireheart gasped, instinctively unsheathing his claws as every hair on his body stood on end.

Four mangy warriors prowled in behind their leader, their eyes glittering with hatred.

“So you’re the only warrior left!” Brokenstar hissed, his lips drawn back in a snarl. “This will be easier than I thought!”

Chapter 26

Yellowfang, Dustpaw, and Sandpaw rushed forward in a defensive row, and the queens lined up behind them. Fireheart saw Cinderpaw hobbling to join them, but Dustpaw spat angrily at the small gray cat as she neared, and Cinderpaw scrabbled clumsily away, ears flat, back into Yellowfang’s den.

The elders grabbed the kits, bundled them into the nursery, and squeezed inside after them. Brindleface picked up Cloudkit in her jaws and pushed him in last. She tugged at the brambles with her paws, ignoring the thorns, and covered the entrance before turning to join the rest of her Clan in the clearing.