Rising Storm

Fireheart looked back at her. He had no choice. “I’ll come,” he agreed.

“Good.” Bluestar nodded again, her voice softening a little. “We’ll need traveling herbs to keep our strength up. I’ll go and see Yellowfang about them.” She swept past Fireheart and pushed her way out of the cave.

“Are we going now?” Fireheart called.

“Yes,” Bluestar replied, without stopping.

Fireheart bounded out of the den after her. “But I’m meant to lead the dawn patrol,” he protested.

“Send them off without you,” ordered Bluestar.

“Okay.” Fireheart stopped and watched the she-cat disappear into the ferns that led to Yellowfang’s clearing. He felt very uneasy as he padded toward the camp entrance where Longtail and Mousefur were waiting. Longtail was flicking his tail impatiently, while Mousefur had settled onto her belly and watched Fireheart approach through half-closed eyes.

“What’s going on?” Longtail demanded. “Why’s Bluestar going to see Yellowfang? Is she okay?”

“She’s going to get traveling herbs. Bluestar needs to share with StarClan, so we’re going to the Moonstone,” Fireheart explained.

“That’s a long way,” remarked Mousefur, slowly sitting up. “Is it wise? Bluestar’s probably still weak from the rogue cats’ attack.” Fireheart couldn’t help noticing that she tactfully avoided mentioning Tigerclaw’s part in the attack.

“She told me that StarClan has summoned her,” he answered.

“Who else is going?” asked Longtail.

“Just me and Bluestar.”

“I’ll come too, if you like,” offered Mousefur.

Fireheart shook his head regretfully.

Longtail’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “You think you can protect her alone, do you? You may be deputy, but you’re no Tigerclaw!” he hissed.

“And it’s a good thing he’s not!” Relief washed over Fireheart as he heard Whitestorm’s voice behind him. The white warrior must have heard the whole conversation, because he went on: “Fireheart and Bluestar are less likely to be noticed if they travel together like this. Quite apart from the fact that they’re allowed safe passage to Highstones anyway, they’re more likely to appear like a raiding party to WindClan if there’s more than two of them.”

Mousefur nodded, but Longtail turned his head away. Fireheart blinked gratefully at Whitestorm.

“Yellowfang!” Bluestar’s agitated meow sounded from the medicine cat’s den.

“Go to her,” meowed Whitestorm quietly. “I’ll lead the patrol.”

“But Bluestar wants you to take charge of the Clan while we’re gone,” Fireheart told him.

“In that case, I’ll stay here and organize today’s hunting parties. Mousefur can lead the patrol.”

“Yes,” agreed Fireheart, trying not to show how flustered he felt. He turned to Mousefur. “Take Thornpaw with you,” he ordered.

Mousefur dipped her head as Fireheart turned and ran across the clearing to the medicine cat’s den.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting some traveling herbs too,” remarked Yellowfang as Fireheart emerged from the tunnel. The old medicine cat was sitting calmly in the clearing while Bluestar paced restlessly around, lost in her own thoughts.

“Yes, please,” answered Fireheart.

Cinderpelt limped out of the den in the split rock and made straight for Yellowfang without stopping to greet Fireheart. “Which one is chamomile?” she whispered into the medicine cat’s ragged ear.

“You must know that by now!” Yellowfang hissed crossly.

Cinderpelt’s ears twitched. “I thought I knew, and then I wasn’t sure. I just thought I’d check.”

Yellowfang snorted, heaved herself to her paws, and went over to the foot of the rock, where several small piles of herbs were lying in a row.

Fireheart glanced at Bluestar. She had stopped pacing and was staring up at the sky, warily sniffing the air. Fireheart padded after Yellowfang. “Chamomile’s not a traveling herb,” he meowed under his breath.

Yellowfang narrowed her eyes. “Bluestar needs something to soothe her heart as well as to give her physical strength.” She glanced scathingly at Cinderpelt and added, “I was hoping to add it to the traveling herbs without telling the whole camp!” She pushed one of the piles with a heavy paw. “That’s chamomile.”

“Yes, I remember now,” Cinderpelt mewed meekly.

“You shouldn’t have forgotten in the first place,” scolded Yellowfang. “A medicine cat has no time for doubt. Put your energy into today and stop worrying about the past. You have a duty to your Clan. Stop dithering and get on with it!”

Fireheart couldn’t help feeling sorry for the young cat. He tried to catch her eye, but Cinderpelt wouldn’t look at him. Instead she busied herself with preparing the traveling concoction, pawing small amounts from each pile of herbs and mixing them together while Yellowfang watched with a concerned frown.

Behind them Bluestar had begun to pace the clearing again. “Aren’t they ready yet?” she meowed irritably.

Fireheart padded over to Bluestar’s side. “Nearly,” he told her. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it to Highstones by sunset.” Bluestar blinked at him as Cinderpelt limped up with a bundle of herbs.