The Darkest Hour

The sound of a door opening roused Firestar from his thoughts, and he edged along the fence into the shelter of a holly bush as one of his old Twolegs came out of the house and called. At once the pretty brown tabby meowed good-bye to Smudge and scrambled under the fence that divided the gardens. She ran up to the Twoleg, who scooped her up and stroked her before carrying her indoors, purring loudly.

She’s their new kittypet! Firestar thought. The closing of the door stirred a pang of envy in him, just for a heartbeat. The little tabby would have no need to catch her prey before she could eat; she would have a warm place to sleep, and no risk of dying in battle or from one of the many dangers that beset the forest cats. She would have the friendship of Smudge and other kittypets, and the care of her Twolegs—everything that Firestar had turned his back on to live as a Clan cat in the forest.

But at the same time she would never know the satisfaction of learning warrior skills, or of racing into battle beside her friends. She would never understand what it meant to live by the warrior code, and to follow the will of StarClan.

If I could relive my life, Firestar thought, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Suddenly claws scrabbled on the fence below him and from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of quick, brown movement. Turning his head, he found himself face-to-face with Bramblepaw.

It was a moment before Firestar recovered himself enough to speak. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you from camp, Firestar. I…I was curious about where you were going, and I wanted to practice my tracking skills.”

“Well, they seem good enough, if you got this far.” Firestar wasn’t sure whether he was angry with his apprentice or not. Bramblepaw shouldn’t have followed him without permission, but it was impressive to have tracked him all the way from the camp. He felt a twinge of guilt, too, that Bramblepaw should have caught him looking over a Twoleg fence at a pair of kittypets. Once before, when Firestar was an apprentice, Tigerstar had spied on him and caught him talking to Smudge. The huge tabby had reported straight back to Bluestar, deliberately calling into question Firestar’s loyalty to Clan life.

Meeting Bramblepaw’s eyes, Firestar saw the young cat’s nervousness fading, to be replaced by a steady gaze, as if he were weighing his mentor up. It was a long, intelligent look, and Firestar realized that he could see respect in the amber depths. He was aware yet again of his certainty that Bramblepaw could be an outstanding warrior, if only he could escape his father’s dark heritage. But would Bramblepaw ever be truly loyal to his birth Clan, with his father still in the forest?

“Can I trust you?” Firestar blurted out suddenly.

The young cat didn’t rush to defend himself. Instead Bramblepaw held him with that serious gaze for a moment more. “Can I trust you?” he responded, twitching his ears in the direction of the Twoleg garden.

Bristling, Firestar initially had no intention of justifying himself to his apprentice; it was not Bramblepaw’s place to question the actions of his mentor—who also happened to be Clan leader. But in spite of the guilt Bramblepaw’s question had provoked, Firestar couldn’t help admiring the spirit that had dared to ask.

He took a deep breath. “You can trust me,” he promised solemnly. “I chose to leave my life as a kittypet. Whatever happens, I’ll always put the Clan first.” It was time, he decided, to be more open with Bramblepaw. “But I do come here now and again,” he continued. “I see my sister sometimes, and I wonder how things would have been if I’d stayed. Yet I always leave knowing that my heart lies with ThunderClan.”

Bramblepaw gave a little nod, as if the answer satisfied him. “I know what it’s like to have loyalties questioned,” he meowed.

Another pang of guilt stabbed Firestar, even though he knew he was not the only cat to have suspicions about Bramblepaw. “How do you get on with the other apprentices?” he asked.

“They’re okay. But I know some of the warriors don’t like me and Tawnypaw, because Tigerstar’s our father.”

The words were spoken with such understanding that Firestar was even more ashamed of himself. We’re more alike than I ever realized, Firestar thought. Constantly having to prove our loyalties by fighting twice as hard, defending ourselves twice as much to our enemies—and to our Clan mates.

“Can you cope with that?” he meowed cautiously.

Bramblepaw blinked. “I know where my loyalties lie. I’ll prove that someday.”