The Darkest Hour

Fireheart flashed him a grateful glance. The fur on his shoulders had begun to bristle and he deliberately relaxed so that it lay flat again. He would not let Darkstripe see that his challenging words had provoked him. Yet he could not stifle a moment of doubt. Bluestar had appointed him deputy, but her mind had been clouded by the shock of Tigerstar’s treachery, and the whole Clan had been shocked because the ceremony had been late. Could that possibly mean he was not the right cat to lead ThunderClan?

“But a kittypet!” Darkstripe protested. His yellow eyes glared balefully up at Fireheart. “Stinking of Twolegs and their nests! Is that what we want as our leader?”

Fireheart felt the familiar rage burn in his belly. Even though he had lived with the Clan since he was six moons old, Darkstripe never let him forget that he was not forest-born.

As he struggled with the desire to leap down and sink his claws into Darkstripe’s fur, Goldenflower rose to her paws and stepped forward to face the dark warrior. “You’re wrong, Darkstripe,” she growled. “Fireheart has proved his loyalty to the Clan a thousand times over. No Clan-born cat could have done more.”

Fireheart blinked his thanks to her, surprised that Goldenflower of all cats should have supported him so determinedly. She knew of Fireheart’s suspicions that her kit Bramblepaw would end up as dangerous as his father, Tigerstar. Though he had taken Bramblepaw as his own apprentice, he never felt comfortable around the young cat, and Goldenflower knew it. She had defended her kits fiercely against what she thought was Fireheart’s unreasonable hostility. It was all the more surprising now that she should stand up for him against Dark stripe.

“Fireheart, don’t listen to Darkstripe,” Brackenfur added his voice to Goldenflower’s. “Every cat here wants you as leader, a p art from him. You’re obviously the best cat for the job.”

A murmur of agreement rose from the cats around the Highrock, and Fireheart’s heart swelled with gratitude.

“And who are we to go against the decrees of StarClan?” Mousefur added. “The deputy always becomes Clan leader. That is the tradition of the warrior code.”

“Which Fireheart seems to know rather better than you do,” Graystripe hissed, flicking his tail contemptuously at Darkstripe. He knew as well as Fireheart that the dark warrior had plotted with Tigerstar before the dog attack.

Fireheart gestured with one paw to his friend for silence before addressing the whole Clan. “I promise you that I will spend the rest of my life striving to become the leader that ThunderClan deserves. And with StarClan’s help I will succeed.”

His gaze was drawn instinctively to Sandstorm, and he felt warmth spread into his paws and the tip of his tail when he saw how proud she looked.

“As for you, Darkstripe,” Fireheart spat, unable to hide his anger, “if you don’t like the thought of being led by a kittypet, you can always leave.”

The dark warrior lashed his tail; there was pure hatred in the look he threw Fireheart. If I had never come to the forest, Fireheart realized, Tigerstar would be leader now, and you would be deputy.

He had never intended to provoke a public confrontation with Darkstripe, but the dark tabby had driven him to it. Though ThunderClan could not afford to lose any warriors, a large part of Fireheart wanted Darkstripe to take him at his word and leave the Clan for good. Yet at the same time he knew that Darkstripe would go straight to ShadowClan and Tigerstar. It was better, Fireheart admitted to himself, to keep his enemies apart. Darkstripe would be less of a threat in ThunderClan, where Fireheart could keep an eye on him.

The black-striped warrior went on staring at him for a few heartbeats more, before whipping around to stalk away. But he did not head for the gorse tunnel; instead he vanished into the warriors’ den.

“Right.” Fireheart raised his voice as he turned back to the rest of the Clan. “Tonight we will hold the mourning rituals for Bluestar.”

“Hang on!” Cloudtail sprang to his paws, tail fluffed up. “Aren’t we going to attack ShadowClan? They slaughtered Brindleface and they led the dog pack to our camp! Don’t you want revenge?”

His fur was bristling with hostility. Brindleface had been Cloudtail’s foster mother when he first came to ThunderClan as a helpless kit. But Fireheart knew that attacking ShadowClan right now was not the answer.

He signaled with his tail to silence the yowls of agreement that had broken out as soon as Cloudtail spoke. “No,” he meowed. “This is not the time to attack ShadowClan.”

“What?” Cloudtail stared at him disbelievingly. “You’d let them get away with it?”

Fireheart took a deep breath. “ShadowClan didn’t kill Brindleface, or lay the trail for the dogs. Tigerstar did. Every rabbit on the trail had his scent on it and no other cat’s. We can’t be sure that ShadowClan even knew what their leader was planning.”