Forest Of Secrets

“No, no,” Fireheart replied quickly. “She was at the Sunningrocks with Graystripe, and the kits started to come. Something was wrong…there was a lot of blood. We did everything we could, but…oh, Mistyfoot, I’m so sorry.”

Pain flooded into Mistyfoot’s eyes as he explained. She let out a long, low wailing sound, her head flung back and her claws digging into the ground. Fireheart moved closer to try to comfort her, and felt every muscle in her body rigid with tension. There were no words he could say that would do any good.

At last the terrible wailing died away and Mistyfoot relaxed a little. “I knew no good could come of it,” she murmured. There was no anger or accusation in her voice, only a weary sadness. “I told her not to meet Graystripe, but would she listen? And now…I can’t believe I’ll never see her again.”

“Graystripe buried her by the Sunningrocks,” Fireheart told her. “If you’ll meet me there one day, I’ll show you the place.”

Mistyfoot nodded. “I’d like that, Fireheart.”

“Her kits are alive,” Fireheart added, in an attempt to ease some of the queen’s grief.

“Her kits?” Mistyfoot sat up, alert again.

“Two kits,” mewed Fireheart. “They’re going to be fine.”

Mistyfoot blinked, suddenly deep in thought. “Will ThunderClan want them, when they’re half RiverClan?”

“One of our queens is suckling them,” Fireheart assured her. “The Clan’s angry with Graystripe, but no cat would take it out on the kits.”

“I see.” Mistyfoot was silent for a while, still thoughtful, and then rose to her paws. “I must get back to camp and tell the Clan. They don’t even know about Graystripe. I can’t imagine what I’m going to say to Silverstream’s father.”

Fireheart knew how she felt. Many warrior fathers did not stay close to their kits, but Crookedstar had maintained a close bond with Silverstream. His grief at her death would be mixed with anger that she had betrayed her Clan by taking Graystripe as a mate.

Mistyfoot gave Fireheart a quick lick on the forehead. “Thank you,” she mewed. “Thank you for coming to tell me.”

Then she was gone, sliding rapidly through the ferns. Fireheart waited until she was out of sight before he padded down the pebbly shore and crossed the stepping stones back to his own territory.

Hunger roused Fireheart from sleep. Peering through the dim light in the warriors’ den, he saw that Graystripe had left his nest already. Oh, no! Fireheart thought irritably. He’s gone off to meet Silverstream again! Then he remembered.

Two dawns had passed since Silverstream’s death. The shock the Clan felt about her affair with Graystripe was beginning to die down, though none of the warriors except Fireheart and Brackenfur would talk to Graystripe or go on patrols with him. Bluestar had still not announced what his punishment would be.

Fireheart stretched and yawned. All night his sleep had been disturbed by Graystripe twitching and whimpering, but the weariness inside him went deeper than that. He couldn’t see how the Clan could possibly recover from the blow that had been struck by the discovery of Graystripe’s disloyalty. There was an atmosphere of uncertainty and distrust that dulled conversation and cut short the familiar rituals of sharing tongues.

With a determined shake, Fireheart slipped out through the branches and padded over to the pile of fresh-kill. The sun was rising, dappling the camp with golden light. As he bent to pick out a plump vole, he heard a voice calling, “Fireheart! Fireheart!”

Fireheart turned. Cloudkit was racing across the clearing toward him from the nursery. Brindleface and the rest of her kits followed more slowly, and to Fireheart’s surprise Bluestar was with them.

“Fireheart!” Cloudkit panted, skidding to a stop in front of him. “I’m going to be an apprentice! I’m going to be an apprentice now!”

Fireheart dropped the vole. He couldn’t help feeling cheered up when he saw the kit’s excitement, along with a twinge of guilt that he had completely forgotten Cloudkit was approaching his sixth moon.

“You’ll mentor him, of course, Fireheart?” Bluestar meowed as she came up. “It’s time you had another apprentice. You did good work with Brackenfur, even though he wasn’t yours.”

“Thank you,” meowed Fireheart, dipping his head to acknowledge her praise. He couldn’t help thinking sadly of Cinderpaw. He would never lose the feeling that he had been partly responsible for her accident, and he resolved to do better with Cloudkit.

“I’ll work harder than any cat!” Cloudkit promised, his eyes wide. “I’ll be the best apprentice there ever was!”

“We’ll see about that,” Bluestar mewed, while Brindleface purred with amusement.

“He’s been pestering me day and night,” she meowed fondly. “I know he’ll do his best. He’s strong and intelligent.”