River Of Fire

When Briarlight and her escorts had disappeared into the rain, Alderheart headed toward the medicine-cat den. But before he had gone more than a few paw steps, a yowl of alarm from behind made him turn back.

He was in time to see the wind lift a whole section of the nursery roof and send it flapping away into the storm. More yowls came from the cats inside, and shrill wails of terror from the kits.

Alderheart splashed back through the puddles and dived into the nursery. Rain was pouring through the gap in the roof, soaking the side of the nursery where Briarlight had been sleeping.

We moved her just in time! Alderheart thought. Thank StarClan!

Cinderheart and Blossomfall had shrunk away from the gap to the far side of the nursery, each drawing her kits close to the curve of her body to shelter them from the cold and wet. Ivypool, Daisy, and Twigpaw were dragging over what bedding they could save from the rain.

“Alderheart, what shall we do?” Blossomfall asked. “We can’t stay here—what if the rest of the roof gives way?”

For a heartbeat Alderheart struggled with panic. Where can they possibly shelter? “The elders’ den is closest,” he meowed at last. “Graystripe and Millie will be delighted to have kits to look after.”

Stemkit immediately bounced to his paws. “Will Graystripe tell us stories?” he asked.

“Yes!” his sister Eaglekit squealed. “I want to hear about Firestar and the old forest.”

“Certainly not. You need to sleep,” their mother, Blossomheart, scolded. “And so does Graystripe.”

In the midst of the chaos, Alderheart stifled a small mrrow of amusement. I don’t think any of them will get much sleep tonight.

When he had sent his Clanmates on their way—the she-cats carrying Cinderheart’s younger litter, while Blossomfall’s kits pattered alongside—Alderheart raced back to the medicine-cat den. The wind was stronger still, almost enough to carry him off his paws. It had blown rain into the den past the brambles; Leafpool and Jayfeather—who was awake now, Alderheart noticed with a sinking heart—were both crouching in their nests, cold and wet and miserable.

“Where have you been?” Jayfeather rasped, rising to his paws and arching his back. “Get me out of here before I’m washed away in the flood! And I need more watermint.”

Alderheart sighed. Jayfeather was a brilliant medicine cat, but when he was ill, taking care of him was worse than facing down a whole den of badgers.

“No cat is going to get washed away,” Alderheart assured him. “The ground is muddy, but there’s no flooding. But I am worried about the prophecy,” he admitted. “‘The dark sky must not herald a storm.’”

Jayfeather looked briefly disconcerted. “You said yourself, there’s no flooding,” he reminded Alderheart after a moment. “Perhaps this is just a little rain. When StarClan wants to make a point, they’re not what you could call subtle.”

Unconvinced, Alderheart let out a sigh. “As for the watermint,” he told Jayfeather, “it’s stored safely in the rock, where it will keep dry. You’ll just have to wait for a while. And Leafpool,” he added, turning to the other medicine cat, “don’t let him bully you into fetching it. You need to rest.”

“Yes, O great one,” Leafpool murmured, a glimmer of amusement in her amber eyes.

“Some medicine cat you are,” Jayfeather grumbled, wrapping his tail over his nose. “You should have a bit of what you need on you at all times.”

And where do I put it? Alderheart asked himself. In my ears?

After heading out of the den, he left the camp and climbed the slope to the tunnel openings where the Clan had sheltered during the Great Storm. Alderheart hadn’t been born then, but he had heard the stories of what had happened, especially from the old tabby Purdy.

A pang of grief shook Alderheart. Great StarClan, I miss Purdy!

He found Ambermoon and Sorrelstripe with Briarlight near the mouth of the biggest tunnel. Somewhere they had managed to find some dry bracken to make a nest.

“Is every cat okay?” he asked.

“We’re fine,” Ambermoon replied cheerfully. “Don’t worry about us.”

“It’s good to get out of camp for a while,” Briarlight added.

Alderheart gave Sorrelstripe a close look, but though she was quiet she didn’t seem ill, and he couldn’t scent sickness on her.

“I’ll come and tell you when it’s safe to return,” he meowed, and left them with a wave of his tail.

By this time it was almost dark. Alderheart had to watch where he was putting his paws as he made his way back down the slope. The grass was slippery from the rain, and more than once he almost lost his balance, digging in his claws to stop himself rolling down head over paws.

Before he had gone many fox-lengths, he jumped as he heard the loudest crack yet, and stood frozen while the hillside around him was bathed in a brilliant frosty light.

That’s the closest so far, he thought.