Forest Of Secrets

“Good idea,” agreed Bluestar. She raised her voice again to address the whole Clan. “The meeting is over. Go to your duties.” She leaped down lightly from the Highrock and padded across to talk with Patchpelt and the other elders.

Fireheart was waiting to see if Tigerclaw would choose him for a patrol when he noticed Graystripe edging away from the circle of cats. Fireheart headed after him, and caught up just as he broke for the gorse tunnel. “Where do you think you’re going?” he hissed in the gray warrior’s ear. “Bluestar just said that no cat should go out alone.”

Graystripe turned a panicky look on him. “Fireheart, I have to see Silverstream,” he protested. “I have to be sure she’s okay.”

Fireheart let out a long sigh of exasperation. He understood how his friend was feeling, but he could hardly have chosen a worse time to go visiting his mate. “How will you get across the river?” he asked.

“I’ll manage,” Graystripe promised grimly. “It’s only water.”

“Don’t be such a mouse-brain!” Fireheart spat, remembering the time Graystripe had fallen through the ice, when Silverstream had rescued him. “You nearly drowned once before. Wasn’t that enough for you?”

Graystripe didn’t answer; he just swung around and made for the tunnel again.

Fireheart glanced over his shoulder. The other cats in the clearing were breaking up into small groups under Tigerclaw’s direction, ready to go out on patrol. “Stop, Graystripe!” he hissed, halting his friend at the entrance to the tunnel. “Wait there.”

Once he was sure Graystripe had done as he asked, he bounded across the clearing toward the deputy. “Hey, Tigerclaw,” he meowed. “Graystripe and I are ready to go. We’ll check the RiverClan boundary downstream of the Sunningrocks, all right?”

Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased that Fireheart had taken it upon himself to choose which area he was going to patrol. But he had no reason to refuse, especially with Bluestar in earshot. “All right,” he growled. “Try to bring some prey back, as well.”

“Yes, Tigerclaw,” Fireheart replied, dipping his head before turning to race back to Graystripe. “Okay,” he panted. “We’re on patrol, so at least no cat will wonder where we’ve gone.”

“But you—” Graystripe began to protest.

“I know you have to go,” Fireheart meowed. “But I’m coming with you.”

He felt a prickle of guilt as he spoke. Even on patrol, he and Graystripe wouldn’t be expected to cross Clan boundaries. Bluestar would be furious if she knew that two of her warriors were risking their lives to go into enemy territory when their own Clan needed them so badly. But Fireheart couldn’t just stand there and let Graystripe go alone. His friend could be swept away in the floods and never return.

“Thanks, Fireheart,” murmured Graystripe as they left the tunnel. “I won’t forget this.”

Side by side, the two warriors scrambled up the steep, rocky slope. As they headed into the forest, retracing the steps of their earlier patrol, Fireheart noticed how muddy the ground was underpaw. The melted snow had soaked the earth like the heaviest rainfall, even without the deadly spread of floodwater from the river.

When they reached the edge of the trees Fireheart realized that the water had risen even farther. The Sunningrocks were almost submerged now, and the current swirled around them in tight circles. “We’ll never make it across there,” he meowed.

“Let’s head downstream,” Graystripe suggested. “We might be able to use the stepping stones.”

“We can try,” Fireheart mewed uncertainly. He was about to follow his friend when he thought he heard something—a thin, wailing sound, above the wind and the rushing of the torrent. “Wait,” he called. “Did you hear that?”

Graystripe looked back, and both cats stood, ears pricked, straining to catch the sound. Then Fireheart heard it again—the panic-stricken mewing of kits in distress.

“Where are they?” he meowed, looking all around and up into the trees. “I can’t see them!”

“There.” Graystripe flicked his tail in the direction of the Sunningrocks. “Fireheart, they’ll drown!”

Fireheart saw that the current had driven a mat of twigs and debris up against the Sunningrocks. Two kits balanced precariously on it, their tiny mouths stretched wide as they wailed for help. Even as Fireheart watched, the current tugged at the mat, threatening to sweep it away. “Come on,” he yowled to Graystripe. “We’ve got to reach them somehow.”

Taking a deep breath, he waded into the flood. The water soaked into his fur at once, and a paralyzing, icy chill crept up his legs. The tug of the current made it harder to stay on his paws with every step he took.

Graystripe splashed in behind him, but when the water reached his belly fur he stopped. “Fireheart…” he choked out.

Fireheart twisted around to give him a comforting nod. He could understand how the river might terrify Graystripe, after his near-drowning a few moons ago. “Stay there,” he meowed. “I’ll try to push the mat over to you.”