“Cloudpaw is doing really well,” Fireheart meowed. “Isn’t he?” He met Sandstorm’s gaze, silently willing her not to say anything tactless about the wayward apprentice.
“He hunts well,” Sandstorm admitted. “And he’s got the makings of a fine fighter.”
Princess didn’t realize how much Sandstorm was leaving unsaid. Her eyes glowed with pride and she meowed, “I know he’ll be a good warrior with Fireheart to mentor him.”
“But you haven’t told me what you’re doing out here,” Fireheart mewed, eager to change the subject. “You’re a long way from your Twoleg nest.”
“I was looking for you. I had to know what had happened to you and Cloudpaw,” explained Princess. “I saw the fire from my garden, and then you didn’t come to see me, and I thought—”
“I’m sorry,” Fireheart meowed. “I would have come, but we’ve been so busy since the fire. We have to rebuild the camp, and there’s not much prey left in the forest. And I have more duties since I was made deputy.”
“You’re deputy now? Of the whole Clan? Fireheart, that’s marvelous!”
Fireheart felt hot with embarrassment as Princess gazed at him.
Sandstorm gave a dry little cough. “There’s prey to be caught, Fireheart…”
“Yes, you’re right,” Fireheart mewed. “Princess, you’re very brave to have come so far, but you’d better get home now. The forest can be dangerous if you’re not used to it.”
“Yes, I know, but I—”
The roar of a Twoleg monster interrupted her, and at the same moment Fireheart’s nostrils were blasted with its harsh reek. The roaring grew louder, and a moment later the monster burst out of the trees, bouncing along the rutted track.
Instinctively, Fireheart and Sandstorm crouched beneath a blackened tree trunk, waiting for the monster to pass. Princess merely sat watching it curiously.
“Get down!” Sandstorm hissed at her.
Princess looked puzzled, but she pressed herself obediently to the ground next to Fireheart.
Instead of passing, the monster stopped. The roaring was abruptly cut off. Part of the monster unfolded, and three Twolegs jumped out of its belly.
Fireheart exchanged a glance with Sandstorm and flattened himself even further. Princess might feel at home with the Twolegs and their monster, but they were too close for his liking, and the undergrowth was still not thick enough to provide decent cover. All Fireheart’s instincts were to run, but curiosity kept him pinned to the ground.
The Twolegs wore matching dark blue pelts. They had no Twoleg kits with them, or dogs, unlike most of the Twolegs who came to the forest. They spread out among the burned trees, yowling and stamping so that their paws threw up puffs of dust and ash. Sandstorm lowered her head and stifled a sneeze as one of them passed within a fox-length of where the three cats were crouching.
“What are they doing?” Fireheart murmured.
“Frightening off all the prey,” hissed Sandstorm, spitting out dust. “Honestly, Fireheart, who cares what Twolegs do? They’re all mad.”
“I don’t know…” Fireheart couldn’t help feeling that these Twolegs had a purpose, even if he didn’t understand what it was. The way they pointed with their paws and yowled at each other seemed to suggest they were moving deliberately through the forest.
Another Twolegs stamped past. He had picked up a branch and was using it to poke into hollows and under clumps of charred undergrowth. It almost looked as if he were hunting for prey, except for the noise he was making, which would have scared away the deafest rabbit.
“Do you know what it’s all about?” Fireheart asked Princess.
“I’m not sure,” his sister replied. “I understand a bit of their Twoleg talk, but it’s not words that my housefolk use. I think they’re calling for somebody, but I don’t know who.”
As Fireheart watched, the Twolegs threw the branch down. There was frustration in the movement. He yowled again, and the other Twolegs appeared from the trees. All three of them went back to the monster and climbed into its belly. The roar started up again, and the monster jerked into motion and vanished into the trees.
“Well!” Sandstorm sat up and began licking fastidiously at her ash-stained fur. “Thank StarClan they’ve gone!”
Fireheart got to his paws, keeping his gaze fixed on the place in the trees where the monster had disappeared. The sound had died away and the acrid smell was fading. “I don’t like it,” he meowed.
“Oh, come on, Fireheart!” Sandstorm padded to his side and gave him a nudge. “Why are you bothering about Twolegs? They’re weird, and that’s all there is to it.”
“No, I think they know what they’re doing, even if it looks weird to us,” Fireheart replied. “They usually bring their kits or their dogs to the forest—but these Twolegs didn’t. If Princess is right and they were looking for something, they didn’t find it. I’d like to know what it was.” He paused and then added, “Besides, we don’t normally see Twolegs in this part of the forest. They’re too close to the camp for my liking.”
Sandstorm’s impatient look softened, and she pressed her muzzle reassuringly against his shoulder. “You can tell the patrols to keep a lookout,” she reminded him.
“Yes.” Fireheart nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll do that.”
As he said good-bye to Princess, he struggled to push his growing anxiety out of his mind. Something was going on in the forest that he didn’t understand, and he could not help fearing that it meant danger for his Clan.
Cutting across the corner of Tallpines, Fireheart and Sandstorm made for the river and Sunningrocks. There was no sign of prey anywhere among the scorched trees; the noise made by the Twolegs had seen to that.
“We’ll follow the RiverClan border up toward Fourtrees,” Fireheart decided. “There might be something there worth catching.”
But as they came within sight of Sunningrocks, Fireheart stopped at the sound of a familiar voice calling his name. He looked up to see Graystripe poised on top of the nearest rock; the gray warrior scrambled down and bounded over to him.
“Fireheart! I was hoping to catch you.”
“A good thing a patrol didn’t catch you,” Sandstorm growled. “You’re very comfortable in our territory, for a RiverClan warrior.”
“Come off it, Sandstorm,” Graystripe meowed, giving her a good-natured push. “This is me, Graystripe, remember?”
“Only too well,” retorted Sandstorm. She sat down, licked a paw, and started washing her face.
“What’s the problem, Graystripe?” Fireheart asked, worried that his old friend wouldn’t have ventured into ThunderClan territory without good reason.
“It’s not exactly a problem,” replied the gray warrior. “At least, I hope it isn’t. Just something I thought you ought to know.”
“Spit it out, then,” meowed Sandstorm.
Graystripe flicked his tail at her. “Crookedstar had a visitor yesterday,” he told Fireheart. He narrowed his amber eyes. “It was Tigerstar.”
“What? What did he want?” Fireheart stammered.
Graystripe shook his head. “I don’t know. But Crookedstar is very weak now. The whole Clan knows he’s on his last life. Tigerstar spent only a short time with him, but he had a long talk with Leopardfur.”
The mention of the RiverClan deputy increased Fireheart’s fears. What did she and Tigerstar have to say to each other? Visions of an alliance between ShadowClan and RiverClan raced through his mind, with ThunderClan trapped between the two of them. Then he tried to tell himself he was worrying unnecessarily. He had no reason to think that the two cats were planning anything.
“It’s not unknown for leaders to visit each other,” he pointed out. “If Crookedstar is dying, Tigerstar might want to pay his last respects.”