Firestar’s Quest

Firestar glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, of course I will.”

“But they might not believe it unless you stop behaving like an apprentice,” Graystripe warned, flicking Brambleclaw’s ear with his tail.

Firestar could already hear the sound of many cats ahead, and he picked out the scents of WindClan, RiverClan, and ShadowClan on the warm breeze. He quickened his pace. His dreams were still haunted by unfamiliar voices raised in mis-ery, and it would be good to spend time among cats he knew well. He wanted to deal with problems he had met before, instead of struggling to find out what the strange cats wanted from him.

But as he climbed the last slope to the edge of the hollow, he came to an abrupt stop. For a couple of heartbeats he was convinced that cats were rushing toward him, many cats, a whole Clanful. He blinked, and saw nothing but shadows.

But the scent he had tasted in his dreams flowed around him, stronger now. Behind his eyes he had an impression of flattened ears and ruffled fur, as if the cats were fleeing from a Gathering that had broken up in disorder.

A moment later the sensation vanished, and Firestar was aware of Dustpelt bumping into him from behind.

“For StarClan’s sake,” the brown tabby warrior grumbled, “do you have to stop dead like that? Any cat would think you’d forgotten the way.”

“Sorry,” Firestar mewed.

His paws still tingling, he took the last few paces that brought him to the top of the hollow. In front of him the four great oaks rustled their branches, sending shifting patterns of light and shadow over the cats in the clearing. He paused for a few heartbeats longer than usual, searching for any other traces of the strange cats. But there was nothing to tell him who they were, and no trace of the pale warrior whose reflection he had seen in the puddle. Forcing himself to concentrate on the Gathering, he raised his tail to signal to his Clan and plunged into the bushes.

When Firestar reached the clearing, Brambleclaw raced past him and stopped in front of a tortoiseshell she-cat sitting a few tail-lengths away. “Tawnypaw!” he panted. “Guess what?”

His sister stared back at him. “Tawnypaw? Who’s she? I’m Tawny pelt now, if you don’t mind.”

Brambleclaw’s tail curled up in delight. “You are? That’s great! So am I—I mean, I’m a warrior too. My name’s Brambleclaw.”

Tawnypelt purred and twined her tail with her brother’s.

“Congratulations!”

Just beyond them, Graystripe was greeting his son and daughter, Stormfur and Feathertail, whose new warrior names had been announced by Leopardstar, the RiverClan leader, at the previous Gathering. Stormfur was a muscular gray tomcat, very like his father, while Feathertail had the beautiful light gray pelt of her mother, Silverstream.

Sandstorm headed straight for Mistyfoot, the RiverClan deputy, who was sitting near the Great Rock. The two she-cats had become friends when Mistyfoot had been driven out of her own Clan by Tigerstar, and had spent some time in ThunderClan.

Seeing that the rest of his warriors were also greeting friends from other Clans, Firestar headed for the Great Rock, where Leopardstar, Blackstar, and Tallstar were waiting.

Tallstar stepped forward as Firestar sprang up to join them. “Greetings, Firestar. Now that we’re all here, the Gathering can start.”

Firestar dipped his head to the other three leaders while Blackstar let out a yowl, signaling for the cats in the clearing below to be quiet. “I will begin by speaking for ShadowClan,” he announced, narrowing his eyes at the other leaders as if they might challenge his right to make his report first.

None of the other leaders tried to argue with him, though Tallstar shot a glance at Firestar, and Leopardstar irritably twitched the tip of her tail.

“The prey is running well in ShadowClan,” Blackstar began. “And we have made a new warrior, Tawnypelt.”

A chorus of yowls broke out as the cats of all four Clans congratulated Tawnypelt and called out her name. Firestar glanced down to see the young tortoiseshell warrior sitting beside her brother, her eyes shining proudly. But he couldn’t help noticing that a few of her own Clanmates—the deputy, Russetfur, for one—kept silent, giving Tawnypelt suspicious stares. Firestar bit back a sigh. Some ShadowClan cats clearly mistrusted her because she had been born in ThunderClan.

“We have seen more Twolegs in our territory,” Blackstar went on. “They stride around yowling at one another, and sometimes they let their monsters leave the Thunderpath and crash through the woods.”

“Leave the Thunderpath?” Mistyfoot called out from below. “Why? Are they chasing your cats, Blackstar?”

“No,” the ShadowClan leader replied. “I don’t think they even know we’re there. They’ll be no trouble so long as we stay away from them.”

“They must frighten the prey, though,” Tallstar muttered to Firestar. “I wouldn’t want any more of them on my territory; that’s for sure.”

“ShadowClan cats are better than most of us at hiding,” Firestar pointed out under his breath.