The Darkest Hour

W h en Thornpaw had scraped earth over his catch, Firestar led the patrol toward Snakerocks. He had not been this way since that dreadful morning when he had discovered the trail of dead rabbits laid by Tigerstar to lead the dog pack to the ThunderClan camp. He swallowed bile in his throat as he remembered the reek of blood, but this morning he could detect nothing but the ordinary forest scents. When they reached Snakerocks everything was silent. The howls and barking that he had heard coming from the cave were now no more than a memory.

“Right, Thornpaw,” Firestar meowed, trying not to reveal the clinging horror that he still felt about this place. “What can you smell?”

The apprentice lifted his head and opened his jaws to draw air past his scent glands. Firestar could see that he was concentrating fiercely.

“Fox,” he announced at last. “It’s stale, though…two days old, I’d guess. Squirrel. And…and just a trace of dog.” He shot a glance at Firestar, who could see that the young cat shared his own misgivings. Thornpaw knew as well as any of them that this was where Swiftpaw had died and Lostface had been attacked.

“Anything else?”

“The Thunderpath,” Thornpaw replied. “And there’s something…” He tasted the air again. “Firestar, I don’t understand. I think I can smell cats, but it’s not the scent of any of the Clans. Coming from over there.” He flicked his tail. “What do you think?”

Firestar took a deep breath and realized that Thornpaw was right. The breeze was blowing a faint trace of unfamiliar cat scent toward them.

“Let’s take a look,” Firestar murmured. “And be careful. It might only be a lost kittypet, but you can never tell.”

As the three cats padded warily through the undergrowth, the scent grew stronger. Firestar felt more certain now about the scent. “Rogues or loners,” he meowed. “Three of them, I’d guess. And the scent is fresh. We must have just missed them.”

“But what are they doing on our territory?” Thornpaw asked. “Are they Tigerstar’s rogues, do you think?” He was r e f erring to the band of Clanless cats who had helped Tigerstar to attack ThunderClan during his exile, before he had joined ShadowClan.

“No,” replied Mousefur. “Tigerstar’s rogues took on ShadowClan scent long ago. This must be a new lot.”

“As for what they’re doing,” Firestar added, “I’d like to know that, too. Let’s follow them. Thornpaw, you lead.”

Thornpaw was serious now, his excitement at his upcoming warrior ceremony lost in the possible threat from the group of rogues. He did his best to follow the scent but lost it in a marshy stretch of ground, where not even Firestar could pick it up again.

“I’m sorry, Firestar,” mewed Thornpaw, crestfallen.

“It’s not your fault,” Firestar reassured him. “If the scent’s gone, it’s gone.” He raised his head, staring in the direction the trail had led them. It looked as if the strange cats were heading for the Thunderpath, or perhaps for Twolegplace. In either case, they were on their way out of the territory. He shrugged. “I’ll tell the patrols to keep a lookout, but hopefully there’s nothing to worry about. That was well scented, Thornpaw.” Turning to the young cat, he added with a purr of approval, “Let’s head back to camp. We have a warrior ceremony to arrange.”

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Almost at once Firestar saw Thornpaw approaching from the apprentices’ den with Mousefur beside him. Both cats had groomed themselves for the ceremony; Thornpaw’s golden-brown fur shone in the gray light of leaf-bare, and he looked as if he would burst with pride.

As he waited for the rest of the Clan to emerge, Firestar spotted Cinderpelt coming from her den. Graystripe was with her, and the two cats had their heads together, talking in low voices. Firestar wondered how Sorrelkit was getting on. He had briefly looked into the medicine cat’s den before he left with the dawn patrol. The kit had been sleeping then, and Cinderpelt had still not been prepared to say whether she thought the poison was out of her system. Firestar decided to check on Sorrelkit again as soon as the ceremony was over.

He could not help noticing Darkstripe emerging from the warriors’ den with Brackenfur right behind him. When they sat down in front of the Highrock, a space cleared itself all around them. None of the other cats wanted to be an y where near Darkstripe. The warrior stared straight ahead with a sneer on his face, but Firestar guessed he would be as anxious as the rest of them to know if Sorrelkit would recover.

Firestar looked at the rest of the Clan for a moment. This was a day that Thornpaw would remember for the rest of his life, but it was special for Firestar too, because Thornpaw was the first warrior he would make as Clan leader.