Firestar’s Quest

Brambleclaw nodded; according to tradition a new warrior had to keep his vigil in silence. He was obviously bursting with pride, and taking his new responsibilities very seriously.

“Good,” mewed Firestar. “Don’t hesitate to fetch me if there’s trouble.”

Brambleclaw nodded again, and fixed his gaze on the entrance to the thorn tunnel. Firestar left him there and returned to his den. He curled up in his nest, but the moment he closed his eyes he found himself back on the mist-covered moorland, with the wails of cats shivering in his ears. No! He could not spend another night listening helplessly to their terror.

Struggling back to wakefulness, Firestar stumbled out into the clearing again. Brambleclaw still sat in solitary vigil, while Sandstorm was heading across the clearing toward the warriors’ den. As soon as she spotted Firestar she veered aside to join him.

“Is anything the matter?” she asked. “Can’t you sleep?”

“I feel restless, that’s all,” Firestar replied, reluctant to tell even Sandstorm about the dream. “I’m going for a walk.”

Suddenly longing for the warmth of her company, he added, “Do you want to come with me?”

He was sure his desperation must have shown in his eyes, but Sandstorm just nodded. She crossed the camp beside him and followed him out through the gorse tunnel. Without consciously deciding, Firestar turned his paws toward Sunningrocks, the tumble of smooth gray boulders beside the river that divided ThunderClan territory from RiverClan.

They climbed one of the rocks and sat side by side, watching the water whisper past, dappled with starlight.

After a moment, Sandstorm broke the silence. “Are you worried about Brambleclaw? About whether you were right to make him a warrior?”

Her question surprised Firestar. Did his Clanmates think he still distrusted Brambleclaw because of who his father was? The surprise was followed by a sense of guilt that they were so close to being right.

“No,” he answered, trying to make his voice firm.

“Brambleclaw is not the same cat as his father.”

To his relief, Sandstorm didn’t push him to tell her what was really on his mind. She just leaned her head on his shoulder; her scent wreathed around him as they gazed together at the river of reflected starlight.

Firestar knew that her touch should have comforted him, but he couldn’t get the wailing of terrified cats out of his head, or forget the reflection he had seen in the puddle. He stared down at the river, at the ruffled water spilling around half-covered rocks… no, they weren’t rocks, he realized, his pelt bristling with fear. They were cats, desperately swimming cats, churning the water with their paws, their drenched bodies dragged by the swirling current.

He blinked, and the vision was gone. All he could see was the river sliding past on its endless journey, with the shivering starlight trapped in its depths.

Great StarClan! he thought. What’s happening to me?

Chapter 3

Though Firestar didn’t dream again that night, he slept badly, and he still felt tired when he emerged from his den the next morning. He blinked in the strong sunlight to see Ashfur padding across the clearing toward Brambleclaw. “Your vigil’s over,” Firestar heard him meow. “Come on; I’ll find you somewhere to sleep.”

They disappeared into the warriors’ den while Firestar crossed the clearing and slipped down the fern tunnel that led to Cinderpelt’s den.

The gray-furred medicine cat was sitting outside the cleft in the rock, turning over some herbs with one paw.

Brightheart sat beside her and bent her head forward to give the leaves an interested sniff.

“This is borage,” Cinderpelt explained. “You should start eating some now, so when your kits come you’ll have plenty of milk.”

Brightheart licked the herbs up, making a face as she swallowed them. “They taste as bitter as mouse bile. But I don’t mind,” she added hastily. “I want to do my best for my kits.”

“You’ll be fine,” Cinderpelt assured her. “Come back every morning for some more herbs, and call me right away if you think the kits are coming. I don’t think it’ll be long now.”

“Thanks, Cinderpelt.” Brightheart dipped her head to the medicine cat and padded across the clearing, passing Firestar at the end of the tunnel.

“Make sure you get plenty of rest,” he meowed as she made her way back into the main camp.

Cinderpelt dusted a few scraps of borage from her paws and limped into the clearing to meet Firestar. Once she had been his apprentice, but an accident beside the Thunderpath had injured her leg and made it impossible for her to be a warrior. Firestar knew how hard it had been for her to give up the future she had always dreamed of; he still blamed himself for not taking better care of her.

“Cinderpelt, I have to talk to you,” he began.

Before the medicine cat could reply, a wail sounded from behind Firestar. “Cinderpelt! Look at my paw!”

“Great StarClan, what now?” the medicine cat muttered.