The Darkest Hour

When they came to the top of the hollow, everything was silent. The breeze was blowing away from them, toward ShadowClan territory, and Firestar felt his pelt prickle with dread. Their scent would be carried to the waiting BloodClan, while they themselves had no idea where their enemies might be.

“Graystripe, Mousefur,” he whispered. “Scout around the hollow. Don’t show yourselves. If you see any cats, come back and tell me.”

The two cats slid off in opposite directions, barely visible shadows in the gray light. Firestar waited, trying to appear calm and confident, thankful for the presence of Whitestorm and Sandstorm close beside him. He had barely time to think about what might happen next when Graystripe returned with another cat close behind him. It was Tallstar.

“Greetings, Firestar,” he murmured. “WindClan are here. All our warriors—and your friends, Barley and Ravenpaw.”

The loners came up as the WindClan leader spoke their names. “We came to help as we promised,” Ravenpaw meowed, twining his tail with Firestar’s in greeting. “We’ll fight alongside you, if you’ll have us.”

“If we’ll have you?” Firestar echoed, a purr of gratitude swelling up inside him. “You’re welcome; you know that.”

“We’re proud to fight with you,” Barley mewed. Sandstorm came up to greet her former Clan mate, and the two loners took positions beside her.

“Do you know where BloodClan is?” Firestar asked Tallstar.

Tallstar’s eyes were bleak as he gazed across the hollow to the ShadowClan territory. “Somewhere out there, watching us, I’d guess.”

His voice was steady, and Firestar began to envy his calm, unshaking courage, until he caught the WindClan leader’s fear-scent and heard him mutter under his breath, “StarClan help us! Show us an enemy we can fight!”

Somehow the knowledge that Tallstar was as afraid as he was himself only increased Firestar’s respect for the older and more experienced leader. Tallstar would never show fear in front of his Clan. He would put aside his own feelings to do his duty as leader; Firestar only hoped that he could do the same.

He peered into the shadows, looking for a sign that Mousefur was on her way back. Almost at once he caught sight of her bounding toward him, and in the same heartbeat there was movement in the clearing below. Dark shapes appeared from the bushes at the foot of the opposite slope as BloodClan advanced in a single menacing line. Firestar’s belly clenched in fear when the small figure of Scourge stepped out.

“I know you’re there!” the BloodClan leader called. “Come and give me your answer.”

Firestar paused for a heartbeat, and glanced at the cats behind him. Though he knew how terrified they must be, he could see nothing but fierce determination in their faces. LionClan was ready for battle.

“Go on, Firestar,” Leopardstar mewed quietly. Her fur was bristling and her ears lay flat against her head in a mixture of fear and defiance. “Lead us.”

Firestar looked at Tallstar, who nodded. “You spoke for us before,” he meowed. “You’re the one who should lead us now. We all trust you.”

Firestar led the united Clans down into the clearing. Scourge was waiting for him near the base of the Great Rock. His black pelt was neatly groomed and he sat with his paws tucked under him. His eyes were chips of ice, and the rising sun glinted on the teeth that studded his kittypet collar.

“Greetings,” he meowed. He swiped his tongue around his jaws as if he were tasting a succulent piece of prey. “Have you decided to leave? Or do you presume you can fight against BloodClan?”

“We don’t have to fight,” Firestar replied steadily. To his surprise he felt icily calm. “We will let you go back to Twolegplace in peace.”

Scourge let out a cold mrrow of laughter. “Go back? Do you really think we’re such cowards? No, this is our home now.”

Feeling the last spark of hope drain out of his paws, Firestar looked past Scourge at the ranks of his BloodClan warriors. These were lean, tough cats, most of them wearing collars studded with teeth like Scourge, the trophies of earlier battles. Some were flexing claws strengthened with dogs’ teeth, and Firestar remembered the way Scourge’s claws had ripped through Tigerstar’s belly. Their eyes glittered as they waited for the order to attack.

“The forest is ours,” Firestar told the black cat. “We rule here by the will of StarClan.”

“StarClan!” Scourge sneered. “Tales for kits. Forest fool, StarClan won’t help you now.” He sprang to his paws, his fur suddenly bristling out so that he looked twice his size. “Attack!” he snarled.

The line of BloodClan warriors surged forward.

“LionClan, attack!” Firestar yowled.