The Darkest Hour

“You see, Firestar?” Tigerstar’s voice was exultant. “I am even more powerful than StarClan, for I have changed the Clans in the forest from four to two. TigerClan and BloodClan will rule together.”

Firestar stared at his enemy in alarm. There was no possibility of reasoning with Tigerstar now. His hunger for power had twisted him so that in his mind his own huge figure dominated everything, blotting out even the light of StarClan.

“No, Tigerstar,” he answered quietly. “If you want to fight, let us fight. StarClan will show who is more powerful.”

“You mouse-brained fool!” Tigerstar spat. “I was prepared to come here and talk with you today. Just remember that it was you who drove us to this. And when your Clan mates are dying around you, they will blame you with their last breath.” He swung around to face the mass of cats ranged behind him. “BloodClan, attack!”

Not a cat moved.

Tigerstar’s amber eyes widened and he screeched, “Attack, I order you!”

Still none of the warriors moved, except for the small black cat who took a pace forward. He glanced toward Firestar. “I am Scourge, the leader of BloodClan,” he meowed, his voice cold and quiet. “Tigerstar, my warriors are not yours to command. They will attack when I tell them, and not before.”

The look Tigerstar gave him was incredulous and glittered with all the hatred he had ever shown to Firestar, as if he couldn’t believe that this scrap of a cat was defying him. Firestar seized his opportunity. He paced forward until he stood right in front of the two leaders. Behind him, he heard Graystripe hiss, “Firestar, be careful!”

But this was no time for being careful. The very future of the forest was at stake, balanced on the breadth of a hair between Tigerstar’s bloodthirsty quest for power, and the whims of the unknown BloodClan.

Now Firestar could see that the collar Scourge wore around his neck was studded with teeth—the teeth of dogs, and…cats’ teeth, too. Great StarClan! Did they kill their own kind and wear the teeth as trophies?

Others of the cats were wearing the same grisly ornaments. Firestar’s belly clenched and his mind reeled with a vision of blood flowing down the sides of the hollow, washing around the cats’ paws in a sticky, reeking tide. His terror was not just for himself and his own Clan, but for every cat in the forest, friends and enemies alike.

Would blood truly rule the forest, as Bluestar had prophesied? Had she meant that BloodClan would rule? Firestar shot a scorching glance at Tigerstar, wanting to express all the hatred he felt for the cat who had brought them to this.

But Firestar knew he had to hold on to his self-control if he were to make any impression on the BloodClan cats. Dipping his head toward their leader, he meowed clearly, so all the cats could hear him, “Greetings, Scourge. I am Firestar, leader of ThunderClan. I wish I could say you are welcome in the forest. But you would not believe me if I did, and I have no wish to lie to you. Unlike your supposed ally here, I am a cat of honor.” He flicked his tail toward Tigerstar, trying to put all the contempt he felt into the single gesture. “If you’ve believed any promises he made to you, you’re mistaken.”

“Tigerstar told me he had enemies in the forest.” There was all the cold of leaf-bare in the black cat’s voice. When Firestar looked into his eyes it was like gazing into the deep places of the night, unrelieved by the smallest gleam of light from StarClan. “Why should I believe you instead of him?”

Firestar took a breath. This was the chance he had wanted all along, the chance he had missed at the last Gathering, when thunder and lightning had interrupted the meeting. At last he could stand in front of all the Clans of the forest and bring Tigerstar’s dreadful history into the open. But now it was not just a matter of tarnishing Tigerstar’s reputation, but of saving the whole forest from destruction.

“Cats of all Clans,” Firestar began, “and especially cats of BloodClan, you have no need to believe or disbelieve me. Tigerstar’s crimes speak for themselves. When he was still a warrior of ThunderClan, he murdered our deputy, Redtail, hoping to be made deputy himself. First Lionheart was chosen as deputy, but when that noble warrior died in a fight with ShadowClan, Tigerstar achieved his ambition at last.”

He paused; a grim silence gripped the whole clearing, broken only by a contemptuous rumble from Tigerstar. “Mew away, little kittypet. It won’t change anything.”

Firestar ignored him. “Being deputy wasn’t enough,” he went on. “Tigerstar wanted to be leader of the Clan. He set a trap for Bluestar by the Thunderpath, but my own apprentice strayed into it instead. That’s how Cinderpelt came by her crippled leg.”

A shocked murmur swept through the clearing. Except for BloodClan, they all knew Cinderpelt, and she was popular even with cats of other Clans.