Forest Of Secrets

Fireheart craned his neck and saw the white kit crouching beneath a small, dark-leaved bush that pushed its way up between two rocks. Bright scarlet berries grew close to the stems.

“They look tasty,” Cloudkit mewed as the two cats drew nearer. He stretched his jaws wide to take a hungry mouthful.

At the same moment a gasp came from Cinderpaw. To Fireheart’s amazement she shot forward, propelling herself over the snow as fast as her injured leg would allow. “No, Cloudkit!” she yowled.

She barreled into the kit, bowling him over. Cloudkit squealed in shock and the two cats scuffled together on the ground. Fireheart bounded over, anxious that Cloudkit might hurt the injured Cinderpaw, but as he reached them she pushed the kit off her and sat up, panting. “Did you touch one?” she demanded.

“N-No,” Cloudkit stammered, puzzled. “I was only—”

“Look.” Cinderpaw shoved him around until his nose was a mouse-length from the bush. Fireheart had never heard her sound so fierce. “Look but don’t touch. That’s yew. The berries are so poisonous they are called deathberries. Even one could kill you.”

Cloudkit’s eyes were round as the full moon. Speechless for once, he gazed, horrified, at Cinderpaw.

“All right,” she mewed more gently, giving his shoulder a couple of comforting licks. “It didn’t happen this time. But take a good look now, so you don’t make that mistake again. And never—do you hear me, never—eat anything if you don’t know what it is.”

“Yes, Cinderpaw,” Cloudkit promised.

“Go on looking for berries, then.” Cinderpaw nudged the kit to his paws. “And call me as soon as you find anything.”

Cloudkit padded off, glancing back over his shoulder once or twice as he went. Fireheart couldn’t remember seeing him so subdued. Bold as the kit was, he had received a real shock. “It’s a good thing you were here, Cinderpaw,” he meowed, feeling a pang of guilt that he hadn’t known enough to warn Cloudkit. “You’ve learned such a lot from Yellowfang.”

“She’s a good teacher,” Cinderpaw replied. She shook several clumps of snow off her fur and began padding up the hollow after Cloudkit. Fireheart walked beside her, once more slowing his pace to match hers.

This time Cinderpaw noticed. “You know, my leg has healed as much as it ever will,” she meowed quietly. “I’ll be sorry to leave Yellowfang’s den, but I can’t stay there forever.” She turned to look at Fireheart. All the mischief had faded from her eyes; instead, there was pain and uncertainty in the blue depths. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Fireheart stretched over to her and rubbed his face comfortingly against hers. “Bluestar will know.”

“Maybe.” Cinderpaw shrugged. “Ever since I was a tiny kit, I wanted to be just like Bluestar. She’s so noble, and she’s given her whole life to the Clan. But Fireheart, what can I give now?”

“I don’t know,” Fireheart admitted.

The life of a cat could be followed clearly through the Clan, from kit to apprentice to warrior, sometimes to queen, and then retired to an honorable old age among the elders. Fireheart had no idea what happened to a cat who was injured too badly for the warrior life, for the long patrols, the hunting and fighting that were required of a warrior. Even the queens who cared for the kits in the nursery had all been warriors once, with skills that enabled them to feed and defend their little ones.

Cinderpaw was brave and intelligent, and before her accident she had shown endless energy and commitment to the Clan. Surely that couldn’t all be thrown away? This is Tigerclaw’s fault, Fireheart thought darkly. He laid the trail that led to her accident. “You should go to Bluestar,” he suggested out loud. “Ask her what she thinks.”

“Perhaps I will.” Cinderpaw shrugged.

“Cinderpaw!” A shrill meow from Cloudkit interrupted them. “Come and see what I’ve found!”

“Coming, Cloudkit!” Cinderpaw limped away, mewing good-humoredly to Fireheart as she went, “Maybe it’s deadly nightshade this time.”

Fireheart watched her go. He hoped that Bluestar would be able to find a way to give Cinderpaw a worthwhile life within the Clan. Cinderpaw was right: Bluestar was a great leader, and not just in battle. She truly cared for all her cats.

Knowing that, Fireheart felt even more confused when he remembered her reaction to Graypool’s news. Why had Bluestar acted so strangely when he told her that two RiverClan warriors had been ThunderClan kits? The story had outraged her so much that she was closing her eyes to the danger from Tigerclaw.

Fireheart shook his head as he padded slowly after Cinderpaw. There was a deeply buried mystery surrounding those cats, and he was beginning to feel that it might be beyond his power to ever understand it.

Chapter 8

Fireheart crouched in the nursery, watching a litter of kits suckling their mother. For a moment he was filled with excitement to see the tiny creatures who were the future of the Clan.