Firestar's Quest (32 page)

Firestar made an effort to pull himself together. “Why have you come?”

“SkyClan stands at a fork in the path,” Skywatcher replied. “Danger is very near.”

“You mean the rats? They're what destroyed the first
SkyClan, aren't they? Why didn't you tell me about them?”

Skywatcher sat down and steadily met Firestar's gaze. “What good would that have done? It would have been wrong to tell you if it made you give up. And how would it have helped you to know about SkyClan's old enemies before they attacked? Now you have a Clan of strong warriors to stand against them.”

“But are they strong enough?” Firestar murmured.

“They must be ready to defend themselves,” Skywatcher replied. “Perhaps you should see these rats as the first challenge for the Clan to overcome. They will be even stronger afterward.”

Firestar nodded; the StarClan cat was right, and yet he wondered how the Clan could be stronger if all its warriors were dead. Thinking about death reminded him that so far the Clan had no way of making contact with their warrior ancestors.

“Can you tell me if SkyClan has a medicine cat yet?” he asked. “No Clan can survive long without one. What about Leafdapple?”

Skywatcher twitched his ears. “No, that is not Leafdapple's destiny.”

“But we
must
have a medicine cat!”

“Even now your medicine cat's paws are on the path that will lead her to you,” Skywatcher told him. “But you must look farther than the cats of SkyClan. There is a cat who dreams of her warrior ancestors, but she has not heard of the new Clan.”

“So I have to go and find her?” Firestar felt a tingle of excitement in his paws. “Where is she?”

But Skywatcher did not reply. Rising to his paws, he swept his tail around in a gesture of farewell and leaped from the edge of the rock into the sky. Firestar bit back a yowl of alarm; any living cat who tried that would have crashed down onto the rocks below. Instead Skywatcher's body dissolved midleap, leaving behind a faint glittering dust that faded as Firestar watched. A heartbeat later he opened his eyes inside the warriors' den, with Shortwhisker prodding him to wake up and go to the Skyrock.

 

“Sparrowpaw, you can be excused from battle training this morning,” Firestar announced. “I want you for a special mission.”

The young tabby tom's eyes gleamed with excitement. “What mission?”

“I have to go to the Twolegplace, and I need a cat who knows his way around.” Quickly he explained to Sparrowpaw what Skywatcher had told him in his dream.

Though Skywatcher hadn't said that the new medicine cat lived among Twolegs, Firestar thought it was most likely. Sharpclaw and Leafdapple hadn't told him about any other rogues living in the forest, and he couldn't look farther afield because that would mean leaving SkyClan to face the rats without him.

Not long ago they would have raced across the scrubland toward the Twolegplace; now they crept along, slinking from
one patch of cover to the next, all their senses alert for any trace of rats. Firestar remembered how he had felt when the dog pack roamed the forest; it went against everything in the warrior code when cats were forced to behave like prey.

Clouds scudded across the sky, driven by a cold wind. Leaves whirled in the air; the warmth of greenleaf would soon be no more than a memory. How would the Clan cope, Firestar wondered, through the harsh days of leaf-bare if they still had to guard against invasion from the rats?

“I hate this,” Sparrowpaw hissed as they crouched behind a gorse bush, spying out the next stage of their journey. “This waiting…it spooks me. Why don't the rats just attack and get it over with? What are they waiting for?”

“I can't be sure.” Firestar flexed his claws. “But I'd guess the rats know exactly how unsettled we are by waiting. They think they're going to win whenever they attack, so they've nothing to lose by making us suffer.”

He didn't add that the longer they waited, the more tired the Clan would become. Any cat could see that. The rats probably knew it too; they more were clever than any rats he had ever known. Firestar's respect for them was growing every day, but that only made him hate them all the more. He would have led a patrol to fight the rats on their own territory, to attack them first and win the advantage of surprise, but for one thing: SkyClan didn't have a medicine cat to heal their wounds or read the signs from StarClan.

“Let's keep going,” he muttered.

As they paused in the shelter of the fence that surrounded
the first Twoleg gardens, Sparrowpaw peered through a gap with a trace of sadness in his eyes. “That's where Cherrypaw and I used to live,” he murmured. Defensively he added, “It's not that I want to go back—”

“I know,” Firestar reassured him. “Twolegs aren't our enemies, even if they don't understand the warrior's way of life. Now and then I miss my old Twolegs.”

“You do?” Sparrowpaw's eyes widened.

Firestar nodded. “They were good to me. But I was born for the life of a warrior.”

Sparrowpaw straightened up; pride replaced the sadness in his eyes. “So was I.”

“My Twolegs have a new cat now,” Firestar went on. “Her name's Hattie. She seems nice—much better suited to living with housefolk than I was.”

For a heartbeat Sparrowpaw looked alarmed at the thought of another cat taking his place. Then he gave his chest fur a couple of quick licks. “I hope my housefolk get another cat, too,” he mewed bravely. “Then they wouldn't be sad anymore about losing me and Cherrypaw.”

Firestar rested the tip of his tail on the young cat's shoulder. “Come on. We have a cat to find.”

He felt his bristling pelt relax a little as he and Sparrowpaw slipped down the first alley that led into the heart of the Twolegplace. Twolegs and dogs he had dealt with before, and here among the Twoleg nests they were less likely to encounter the clever, coldhearted rats.

Sparrowpaw, however, looked much less at ease than he
had when he and Firestar had last visited the Twolegplace. His pelt fluffed up at the distant barking of a dog, and when they emerged from the alley onto the edge of a small Thunderpath, he leaped into the air as a glittering monster snarled past. “I guess I've forgotten what it's like around here,” he mewed, giving his shoulder an embarrassed lick.

After carefully checking that no more monsters were around, Firestar led the way down another alley, to be met at once by a powerful scent of cat.

“Well, look who's here,” a voice drawled.

Sparrowpaw jumped, his pelt bristling again. Firestar looked up to see the black kittypet, Oscar, stretched out on the top of the wall. His jaws gaped in a yawn, showing sharp teeth.

“If it isn't the mad rogue,” he sneered, with a dismissive twitch of his whiskers at Firestar. “And little Boris! Actually, I've been expecting you,” he added. “But I thought you'd come a bit sooner than this.”

Firestar froze. Surely
Oscar
couldn't be the medicine cat Skywatcher had told him of?

The black tomcat leaped lightly down from the wall and confronted them. “Crawling back to your housefolk, are you, now the weather's turning cold?”

“No, I am not!” Sparrowpaw glared at the black tom. “I'm going to be a warrior. And don't call me Boris. I'm Sparrowpaw now.”

Oscar let out a snort of amusement. “
Sparrowpaw!
What sort of name is that?”

“It's
my
name.” Sparrowpaw slid his claws out. “Do you want to make something of it?”

Hastily Firestar thrust himself between the two bristling toms. “We're not here to fight,” he meowed, though privately he would have liked to see the battle-trained SkyClan apprentice show Oscar just how much he had learned in the past moon. “We're looking for a special cat,” he went on to Oscar. “One who has weird dreams. Have you heard about a cat like that?”

Please, Skywatcher,
he added silently,
don't let Oscar tell me that
he
dreams about you!

Oscar's green eyes widened, gleaming with contempt. “No,” he replied. “And I haven't heard about any cats who fly, either.”

“You think you know everything, you—” Sparrowpaw began hotly.

“I think you are looking for me,” another voice interrupted him from behind, clear and young. “My name is Echo. I dream of cats with stars in their fur.”

A shiver ran through Firestar from
ears to tail tip. A couple of heartbeats passed before he could force his paws to move and let him turn to face the newcomer. He saw a silver-gray tabby she-cat with deep green eyes, small and gracefully built, with tiny dark gray paws. To Firestar she looked almost fragile, and he wondered if she was suited for the tough life of a Clan.

“Greetings,” he meowed. “Have you dreamed of…of a gray-and-white cat?”

“Yes, many times. And other cats, too. A new one just came to join them—a big cat with frosty gray fur.” She blinked at Firestar with growing excitement. “Can you tell me who the starry cats are?”

“Yes,” Firestar replied. “They are the spirits of your warrior ancestors.”

“Spirits!” Oscar sneered. “I hope you're not listening to this rubbish?” he hissed to Echo.

To Firestar's relief, Echo ignored him. “Do you know why they come to me?” she asked Firestar.

“Have you heard of the Clan of cats who have settled in the gorge?” Echo shook her head. “The gray-and-white cat
came to me and asked for my help,” Firestar explained. “Many seasons ago, he was leader of SkyClan, but his cats are long gone now. Skywatcher—the new gray cat you saw—challenged me to rebuild the Clan. But they can't be a real Clan until they find a medicine cat,” he went on, taking a deep breath. “And you—”

“Last night the gray cat spoke to me in a dream,” Echo interrupted, her eyes shining. “He told me to come here today and look for two strange cats. Yes, I will join you.”

“What?” Oscar broke in before Firestar could respond. “Go off with these two crazy furballs? You must be as mad as they are.”

“Maybe I am,” Echo replied calmly. “But no other cat has ever been able to explain my dreams to me. I will come.”

“What about your Twolegs?” Sparrowpaw asked.

A hint of sadness appeared in Echo's green eyes. “These last few moons I've felt so restless that I've been roaming farther and farther from my housefolk's nest. I felt that if only I knew how to listen, the stars would give me an answer. Now that I'm leaving for good, my housefolk will just assume that I've found a new nest to stay in. They'll miss me, but they won't be afraid for me.”

“Then let's go,” meowed Firestar.

“Hang on.” Oscar shouldered past him to face Echo. “You're not really going, are you? Just because of a few dreams?”

“This is not for you to understand,” Echo murmured gently. She turned back to Firestar, who caught a hint of nervousness in her eyes.

“You're taking a big step,” he pointed out, feeling that he had to give her a chance to change her mind.

“I know. But I'm sure this is what I'm meant to do.”

Firestar nodded. If she was willing to trust her dreams, then that was enough for him. “Let's go,” he mewed.

Oscar stood staring after them, dumbfounded, as they slipped back along the alley and out of the Twolegplace.

 

“What's it like, living in a Clan?” Echo asked as they made their way back to the gorge.

“You have to be an apprentice first,” Sparrowpaw told her. “You learn hunting and fighting and stuff like that. And—”

“Hang on,” Firestar interrupted. “Echo might…well, she might play a different role, one that involves healing herbs—and more dreams of starry cats.”

“How will I learn to do all that?” she asked, her eyes wide.

They were sheltering under the gorse bush where Firestar and Sparrowpaw had paused on the way out. Sparrowpaw padded a tail-length away to check for any signs of marauding rats.

“I don't know,” Firestar admitted. “My mate, Sandstorm, can teach you some of the stuff about herbs. As for the rest—if SkyClan's warrior ancestors really mean for you to join us, they'll show you the way.”

To his relief, his answer seemed to satisfy Echo. “I will wait for their guidance,” she mewed.

When the three cats reached the gorge, Sharpclaw was
keeping watch on the Skyrock. He sprang up to meet them at the top of the cliff.

“Still no sign of rats,” he reported, and gave Echo a curious sniff. “Who's this?”

“This is Echo,” Firestar replied. “I…I think she is going to be your medicine cat.”

Sharpclaw's fur began to bristle, and his eyes narrowed. “A stranger? I thought you'd appoint one of us to be medicine cat.”

Firestar took a deep breath. “It's not up to me to appoint a medicine cat,” he explained. “They have to have a special connection with your warrior ancestors. I think Echo has that. You're all great warriors,” he added, “but to defend your Clan fully, you need the support of a cat who can heal and share tongues with your ancestors.”

Sharpclaw's fur began to lie flat, but he still looked uneasy. “Where does she come from?” he asked. “Can we trust her to give us the right herbs and remedies?”

“I lived with housefolk.” Echo's clear gaze rested calmly on Sharpclaw, though her voice held a trace of uncertainty. “And I promise you can trust me. Once I've learned all about the herbs, I'll do my best for every cat.”

Sharpclaw gave her a brusque nod. “We'll see how you get on,” he mewed. “Good luck, anyway.”

Firestar rested his tail tip on Echo's shoulder. “Come on. Let's introduce you to some more of the cats. Sparrowpaw, you go and tell the others that they have a new Clanmate.”

Sparrowpaw took off at once, leaping down the rocks.
Padding more slowly down the stony trail, Firestar glanced into the warriors' den, but at this time of day it was empty. When they reached the nursery, he poked his head around the boulder at the entrance, to find Clovertail keeping watch over the kits. Her own three were play-fighting near the entrance, while Mint and Sage were curled up asleep among the moss.

“Come in, Firestar.” Clovertail rose to her paws. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to introduce you to a new member of SkyClan.” Firestar slid past the boulder and beckoned Echo with his tail. “This is Echo. Echo, this is Clovertail.”

“I'm Rockkit!” The black kit bounced up to Echo and sniffed her; his two littermates joined him and stood gazing up curiously at the newcomer.

Clovertail dipped her head, but Firestar noticed that she looked a little wary.

“I think Echo might become SkyClan's medicine cat,” he mewed.

“Are these yours?” Echo asked, twitching her ears at the three kits who surrounded her. “What lovely, strong kits! You must be very proud of them.”

“I am,” Clovertail purred; Firestar realized that Echo had said exactly the right thing. “But they can be mischievous at times.”

Echo gave a soft
mrrow
of amusement. Padding over to the mossy nest where Mint and Sage were asleep, she mewed, “These can't be yours too?”

“No, they're mine.” Light from the entrance was blocked off as Petal came in, mumbling around a vole in her jaws. Setting it down in front of Clovertail, she added more clearly, “Sparrowpaw tells me that we might have a new medicine cat.” She nodded to Echo. “You're very welcome.”

“Thank you.” Echo's eyes grew warm as she gazed down at the kits. “They're beautiful—and so tiny!”

“You should have seen them when we came here,” Petal replied. “They're much stronger now. Firestar rescued us from my Twoleg. I think my kits would have died if it hadn't been for Clovertail. She fed them and looked after them when I was too ill.”

“That's wonderful!” Echo exclaimed.

Clovertail purred, and Firestar could tell that she might decide to be pleased to have Echo join the Clan. When she had spent a little time talking to the two she-cats, Firestar led her out of the nursery again and farther down the cliff. “I'll show you the old medicine cat den,” he told her.

Sandstorm was still taking care of Patchfoot in the outer cave, though by now the black-and-white warrior was growing stronger, the infection in his wound almost gone. When Firestar and Echo entered, he was crouched over a piece of fresh-kill, while Sandstorm sat nearby.

She rose to her paws and padded up to Echo to touch noses with her. “Welcome to SkyClan,” she meowed.

Echo glanced at Patchfoot, her eyes widening at the ugly wound on his shoulder. “How were you hurt?” she asked.

Patchfoot waved his tail in greeting and gulped down the
last mouthful of blackbird. “Rat bite,” he replied when he could speak. “Sandstorm fixed me up, though.”

Sandstorm shook her head. “I don't know as much as a real medicine cat—just a few useful remedies.”

Echo padded up to Patchfoot, politely asked, “May I?” and then gave his wound a good sniff. “What's that I can smell?”

“Burdock root,” Sandstorm replied. “That's best for rat bites, especially if they get infected. For ordinary wounds we usually use marigold. And cobwebs first of all, to stop the bleeding.”

Echo blinked admiringly. “You know so much!”

“I had great teachers.” Sandstorm caught Firestar's eye as she spoke, and he knew she meant Spottedleaf as well as Cinderpelt. His heart warmed at the glow in her eyes, and he knew that at last she understood his connection to Spottedleaf, without feeling that the tortoiseshell cat was a threat.

 

One by one the cats leaped the cleft in the rock and landed on the flat surface of the Skyrock. A full moon floated in a sky without any clouds to hide the glitter of Silverpelt. Back in the forest, Firestar thought with a tug of homesickness, the Clans would be gathering at Fourtrees. Here there was only one Clan, but SkyClan would still gather to honor their warrior ancestors.

Rainfur and Petal had stayed behind to look after the kits, but almost all the Clan cats had assembled when Firestar spotted a group of three making their way up the trail:
Sandstorm and Echo—and Patchfoot! Would the black-and-white warrior manage the leap?

He stepped forward, weaving his way between Sharpclaw and Rainfur, but before he could call out Sandstorm had leaped lightly across the gap and turned toward Patchfoot. “Okay,” she meowed. “I'm ready.”

Patchfoot picked up his pace, though Firestar could see he was limping, and winced with pain when he put his injured leg to the ground. He launched himself into the air and landed with all four paws on the rock, but so close to the edge that he tottered, about to fall backward. Sandstorm sank her teeth into the loose fur on his uninjured shoulder and pulled him to safety. Last of all Echo leaped the gap and gave Patchfoot's shoulder wound a careful sniff.

“Are you mouse-brained?” Firestar hissed, coming up to them. “What if you'd fallen?”

“I'm a member of this Clan.” Patchfoot faced him determinedly. “I wanted to be at our first Gathering.”

Gazing at the smoldering courage in his eyes, Firestar couldn't go on being angry. “Okay,” he mewed, waving his tail. “You're here now. But for StarClan's sake, be careful going back. You're too good a warrior to lose.”

He jumped onto one of the tumbled boulders where the Skyrock met the cliff. When the rest of the Clan turned to face him, the pale glow of their eyes set every hair on his pelt pricking. Sharpclaw was scraping at the rock as if he couldn't wait to sink his claws into a rat's pelt. Cherrypaw crouched beside him, as ready for battle as her mentor. Clovertail and
Shortwhisker sat side by side, their ears pricked. Leafdapple beckoned Sparrowpaw over to her with a sweep of her tail, and the two cats settled down to listen at the foot of Firestar's rock.

Firestar knew he was seeing how loyal they were to their Clan, how determined to fight for their right to live in the gorge. In that moment he didn't believe that anything, not even the rats, would overcome them.

“Cats of SkyClan,” he began, “when several Clans gather together, they exchange news of what has happened in the previous moon. We can't do that, but we can share our news with one another. Does any cat have something to report?”

Leafdapple raised her tail. “I'd like to say how well Sparrowpaw's hunting skills are coming along. He brought back more prey than any cat yesterday.”

“Excellent!” Firestar mewed, while Sparrowpaw licked his chest fur to cover his embarrassment.

“My apprentice is doing well, too.” Sharpclaw obviously didn't intend to be outdone. “I promise you, she would have clawed my ear off this morning if Sandstorm hadn't stopped her.”

“You just wait!” Cherrypaw muttered, only half joking. “One day when Sandstorm isn't around…”

Sharpclaw gave her an affectionate swipe across the haunches with his tail.

“Well done,” Firestar told her. “But please leave your mentor in one piece. We need him.”

Sandstorm stepped forward. “I'd like to say something
about Petal, even though I know she isn't a member of SkyClan. She volunteered to stay with the kits tonight, so that Clovertail could come here. And she's been so helpful collecting herbs in the forest. I don't know what Echo and I would have done without her.”

“I'll mention it to her,” Firestar promised.

“There's something else I want to say,” Sharpclaw meowed. “We haven't seen so much as the hair of a rat since their leader spoke to us by the Twoleg barn. What are we going to do about them?”

“You know what we're doing,” Firestar replied. “The patrols, the battle training—”

Sharpclaw lashed his tail. “But none of that is getting rid of the rats. Why don't we go out there and sort them out once and for all?”

“It's not the right time yet.”

“At this rate it will never be the right time.” Sharpclaw bared his teeth. “How long do you expect us to live with the threat hanging over us?”

“Not much longer, I hope,” Firestar replied. “I hate waiting as much as you do. If you're willing, I think we should attack as soon as Patchfoot is fit.”

“It won't be long,” Patchfoot put in. “I could fight now if I had to.”