River Of Fire

“I thought things would get better with the rogues gone,” Whitetail, a WindClan elder, mewed despondently. “But now I wonder.”

“StarClan will be angry!” another cat murmured.

Alderheart spotted several cats looking up at the sky to see if clouds would cover the moon, but nothing blocked the silver light. At least StarClan was prepared to let the Gathering continue. He shivered a little: the sky was clear now, but the weather had been ominous for a moon—was the storm StarClan had warned of coming?

“Cats of all Clans!” Bramblestar yowled, stepping forward on his branch so that his muscular tabby figure was visible to all the cats below. “Welcome to the Gathering. Who will speak first?”

“I will,” Leafstar responded, from where she stood on a branch just above Bramblestar. “SkyClan is settling into our new camp, and the prey is running well in our territory,” she continued. “A few days ago, two former ShadowClan cats, Yarrowleaf and Sleekwhisker, surprised us by returning—”

She broke off as mingled yowls of welcome and protest rose from the clearing as she spoke the names. Clearly many of the cats remembered that the newcomers had been loyal to Darktail.

Alderheart gazed, stunned, at his fellow medicine cats, remembering what Needletail had told him when he visited StarClan at the half moon meeting. Shadows approaching . . . Are these the shadows Needletail was referring to?

Leafstar held up her tail for silence, and gradually the tumult in the clearing died down. “After some discussion,” she continued, “I have decided to allow Sleekwhisker and Yarrowleaf to stay with SkyClan—at their request—since Yarrowleaf is very close to kitting. But they will be on probation until the kits are born and weaned.”

Another outcry erupted in the clearing. Though Alderheart could see that some of the cats approved of Leafstar’s decision, most of them did not.

“Traitors!” some cat screeched.

“They followed Darktail!

“Drive them out!”

“No ShadowClan cat could ever be trusted!” Breezepelt of WindClan yowled.

He’s hardly the cat to talk about trustworthiness! Alderheart thought. He was glad to see that many cats, including some of his own Clan, turned to glare at Breezepelt.

Bramblestar was one of them. “That’s not true,” he declared. “ShadowClan was one of the original five Clans, and a noble Clan. Just because it no longer exists doesn’t mean that its cats shouldn’t be respected.”

Breezepelt glared defiantly back, but no cat was paying attention to him now, as the meeting continued.

“Leafstar,” Bramblestar continued, gazing up at the SkyClan leader, “could these cats be the ‘approaching shadows’ mentioned in the medicine cats’ vision?”

Seeming flustered by the question, Leafstar gave her chest fur a couple of quick licks before replying, “I suppose they could.”

“The medicine cats had a vision from StarClan,” Bramblestar announced to the cats gathered in the clearing. “They were told that shadows were approaching and must not be dispelled. These ShadowClan cats must be the approaching shadows!”

Murmurs of surprise came from the cats around the Great Oak, their former hostility fading. Some of them broke up into smaller clusters, speaking excitedly together.

“Yes . . .” Leafstar looked a little uncomfortable. “Puddleshine did make me aware of that, but I’m not sure these are the shadows. In any case,” she went on quickly, forestalling an objection from Bramblestar, “they will stay with SkyClan until Yarrowleaf’s kits are weaned.”

Alderheart wasn’t really listening as Leafstar gave the rest of her news and Harestar stood up to speak. He spotted Sleekwhisker among the SkyClan warriors, seeing that she was watching the leaders intently.

Leafstar clearly trusts her if she let her come to the Gathering . . . but should she? Should Yarrowleaf?

Guilt pricked Alderheart’s pelt, because he had assumed that the “approaching shadows” would be a clearer sign that ShadowClan might revive. Such as Tigerheart coming home . . . He wasn’t sure that the return of two cats who had followed Darktail was a signal that ShadowClan would rise again.

And that means the storm could be moving closer. . . .

CHAPTER 10

Twigpaw bounded across the camp toward the medicine-cat den, impatient to speak to Alderheart. A few fox-lengths away she made herself slow down. The sick cats won’t want an apprentice charging in on them, she told herself.

She brushed past the bramble screen at the entrance to the den and found Alderheart at the back, where the herbs were stored. She padded toward him, careful not to disturb Leafpool and Whitewing, who were curled up in their nests.