Forest Of Secrets

Cloudkit’s eyes gleamed at her praise. He seems to have gotten over finding out he was a kittypet, Fireheart thought. But he’s arrogant, and he barely knows what the warrior code is, let alone respects it. Did I do the right thing, to bring him here? he wondered yet again. Mentoring him wouldn’t be easy, he knew.

“I’ll call the meeting,” Bluestar meowed, heading for the Highrock. With a glance at Fireheart, Cloudkit bounced after her, and the rest of the kits tumbled along behind.

“Fireheart,” meowed Brindleface, “there’s something I want to ask you.”

Fireheart suppressed a sigh. “What is it?” Obviously he wasn’t going to have time to eat his vole before Cloudkit’s ceremony.

“It’s about Graystripe. I know what he’s been through, but he’s never out of the nursery, watching over those two kits. It’s as if he thinks Goldenflower can’t look after them properly. He’s getting in the way of all of us.”

“Have you told him?”

“We’ve tried dropping hints. Speckletail even asked him if he thought he was expecting kits himself. He doesn’t take any notice.”

Fireheart gave the vole a last regretful glance. “I’ll talk to him, Brindleface. Is he there now?”

“Yes, he’s been there all morning.”

“I’ll fetch him out for the meeting.” Fireheart padded across the clearing; as he reached the nursery he heard Bluestar summoning the Clan from the top of the Highrock.

As he entered the nursery he felt a jolt of surprise to meet Tigerclaw coming out. He stepped aside to let the deputy pass him, wondering what he had been doing in the nursery, until he remembered that one of Goldenflower’s kits was a dark tabby; Tigerclaw must be their father.

The nursery was warm, and full of comforting milky smells. Goldenflower lay in her nest with Graystripe crouching over her, sniffing at the bundle of kits.

“Are they getting enough milk?” he meowed anxiously. “They’re so small.”

“That’s because they’re young,” Goldenflower replied patiently. “They’ll grow.”

Fireheart went over to watch the four kits suckling busily in the warmth of their mother’s body. The little dark tabby certainly looked just like Tigerclaw. Graystripe’s two were smaller, but now that their coats had dried and fluffed out they looked just like any other healthy kits. One was the same dark gray as Graystripe, while the other had their mother’s silvery coat.

“They’re beautiful,” Fireheart whispered.

“Better than he deserves,” snorted Speckletail, pushing past on her way to answer Bluestar’s summons.

“Don’t listen to Speckletail,” mewed Goldenflower when the older queen had gone. She bent over the kits and touched the silvery one with her nose. “She’ll be as beautiful as her mother, Graystripe.”

“But what if they die?” Graystripe blurted out.

“They’re not going to die,” Fireheart insisted. “Goldenflower is looking after them.”

Goldenflower was gazing at all four kits with equal love and admiration, but Fireheart couldn’t help thinking that she was looking tired and strained. Perhaps four kits were too much for her to manage. He pushed the thought away. The bond between a mother and her own kits was strong, he reflected, but Clan loyalty was strong too, and Goldenflower would give the best she could to these kits because they were half ThunderClan, and she had a kind heart.

“Come on.” Fireheart gave Graystripe a nudge. “Bluestar has called a meeting. She’s going to make Cloudkit an apprentice.”

For a heartbeat Graystripe hesitated, and Fireheart thought he was going to refuse to come. Then he pushed himself up and let Fireheart herd him toward the entrance, looking back all the while at his kits.

Outside in the clearing the rest of the Clan had already gathered. Fireheart heard Willowpelt announce happily to Mousefur and Runningwind, “I’ll have to move into the nursery soon. I’m expecting kits.”

Runningwind murmured his congratulations, while Mousefur gave her friend’s ears a joyful lick. Fireheart couldn’t help wondering who had fathered these kits, and as he glanced around he noticed Whitestorm watching proudly from a distance. The news of Willowpelt’s kits reassured Fireheart. No matter what disasters they had to face, Clan life went on.

With Graystripe at his side, he made his way to the front of the crowd, just below the Highrock. Cloudkit was there, sitting up very straight and importantly beside Brindleface. Tigerclaw was seated close by, a thundercloud of disapproval on his face. Fireheart wondered what had happened now to send the deputy back into his usual bad temper.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” Bluestar began from on top of the Highrock. “I’ve called you here for two reasons, one good and one bad. To begin with the bad, you all know what happened a few days ago, when Silverstream of RiverClan died, and we gave shelter to her kits by Graystripe.”

A hostile mutter swept through the crowd of cats. Graystripe crouched down, flinching, and Fireheart pressed comfortingly against him.