Rising Storm

They reached Fourtrees as the sun broke through the leaves at the top of the trees. Fireheart followed Bluestar down the slope into the valley, where the four great oaks stood, guarding the place where the Clans met each full moon under a single night’s truce. The two cats passed the Great Rock where the leaders of each Clan stood to address the Gathering, and headed up the far side of the valley.

As the grassy hill turned steeper and rockier, Fireheart noticed that Bluestar was struggling to keep up the pace. She grunted each time she jumped onto the next rock, and Fireheart had to slow down so that he didn’t pass her.

At the top of the slope, Bluestar stopped and sat down, wheezing.

“Are you okay?” Fireheart asked.

“Not so young…” panted Bluestar.

Fireheart felt a pang of worry. He had assumed that her physical injuries from the battle had healed. Where had this sudden weakness come from? It made her seem older and more vulnerable than ever. Perhaps it’s just climbing in this heat, he thought hopefully. After all, her pelt is thicker than mine.

While Bluestar caught her breath, Fireheart peered nervously across the stunted gorse and heather that covered the uplands. This was WindClan territory, stretching away from them under the cloudless sky. He felt even uneasier here than on the RiverClan border. WindClan was still angry with ThunderClan because they had given sanctuary to the former ShadowClan leader, and it was Bluestar herself who had decided to take in the blinded Brokentail. What would a WindClan patrol do if they found the ThunderClan leader on their territory, with only one warrior to guard her? Fireheart wasn’t sure if he could protect his leader against a whole patrol.

“We must be careful not to be spotted,” he whispered.

“What did you say?” called Bluestar. The breeze was stronger up here, and even though it did nothing to ease the sun’s burning heat, it carried Fireheart’s words away.

“We must be careful they don’t see us!” Fireheart reluctantly raised his voice.

“Why?” Bluestar demanded. “We’re traveling to the Moonstone. StarClan has granted us the right to travel safely!”

Fireheart realized it would be a waste of time to argue. “I’ll lead the way,” he offered.

He knew the uplands well, better than most ThunderClan cats. He’d been here many times before, but he’d never felt as exposed and vulnerable as he did now. Quickly he led Bluestar into the sea of heather, praying that StarClan had as much belief in their right to travel here as Bluestar did, and that their warrior ancestors would protect them from any passing WindClan patrols. He also hoped that Bluestar had enough sense to keep her ears and tail low.

The sun was reaching its highest point as they neared the swathe of gorse at the heart of WindClan’s territory. Fourtrees was far behind them, but there was still a long way to go before they reached the slope at the edge of the moor that ran down into Twoleg farmland. Fireheart paused. A hot breeze was blowing toward him, as stifling as the breath of a sick cat, and he knew their scent would be carried back through WindClan territory. He just hoped the perfume of the honey-rich heather would mask it. Beside him, Bluestar signaled with a flick of her tail and vanished into the gorse.

An angry yowl sounded from behind them. Fireheart spun around and backed away, wincing as the gorse pricked his haunches. Three WindClan cats faced him, their fur bristling and their ears flattened.

“Intruders. Why are you here?” hissed a mottled dark brown tabby. Fireheart recognized Mudclaw, one of the senior warriors. A gray tabby warrior called Tornear was beside him, his back arched and his claws unsheathed. Fireheart had grown to know and respect these cats when he had escorted WindClan back from their exile in Twoleg territory, but all traces of their former alliance had vanished now. He didn’t recognize the smallest cat—an apprentice, perhaps, but every bit as fierce-looking and wiry as his Clanmates.

The fur rose along Fireheart’s spine and his heart began to pound, but he tried to stay calm. “We’re just traveling through—” he began.

“You are on our land,” spat Mudclaw. His eyes shone angrily as he stared at Fireheart.

Where was Bluestar? Fireheart thought desperately, half wanting her support, half hoping she hadn’t heard Mudclaw’s yowl and was heading safely through the gorse toward Twoleg territory.

A snarl at his side told him she had returned for him. He glanced quickly to see Bluestar standing at the edge of the gorse with her head held high and her eyes blazing with fury. “We are traveling to Highstones. StarClan grants us safe passage. You have no right to stop us!”

Mudclaw didn’t flinch. “You gave up your rights to StarClan’s protection when you took Brokentail into your Clan!” he retorted.