“Maybe.” Graystripe snorted. “But then why spend so much time with Leopardfur? I tried to get close enough to listen, and I heard Tigerstar say something about coming again to our camp.”
“Was that all he said?” Fireheart asked.
“That’s all I heard.” Graystripe ducked his head in embarrassment. “Leopardfur saw me and told me to stay out of her fur.”
“Perhaps Tigerstar’s just getting to know her,” Fireheart guessed. “She’ll be Clan leader, after all, when Crookedstar dies.”
He turned as he heard another cat calling his name, and saw Mistyfoot pulling herself up out of the river.
“Oh, great StarClan!” exclaimed Sandstorm. “Are we going to have all of RiverClan over here?”
“Fireheart!” Mistyfoot panted, shaking off her fur; Sandstorm jumped back crossly as some of the spinning drops spattered against her paws. “Fireheart, have you seen Graypool anywhere?”
“Graypool?” Fireheart echoed, picturing the short-tempered elder whom Mistyfoot believed to be her mother. Fireheart still felt gratitude to the RiverClan queen for telling him the truth about the two ThunderClan kits she had brought up as her own, but he hadn’t seen her for a long time. “What would Graypool be doing here?”
“I don’t know.” Mistyfoot padded up the slope from the river, her face creased with anxiety. “I can’t find her in the camp. She’s so weak and confused these days, I’m afraid she’s wandered off and doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“She won’t be here,” Graystripe objected. “She’s not strong enough to swim the river.”
“Then where has she gone?” Mistyfoot’s voice rose into a wail. “I’ve looked in all the places I can think of near the camp, and she isn’t there. Besides, the river’s low just now, and it’s not too hard to swim across.”
Fireheart thought rapidly. If Graypool had somehow crossed the river into ThunderClan territory, she would need to be tracked down as soon as possible. His Clan mates were scared enough already of an invasion. He didn’t like to imagine what would happen if an aggressive cat like Darkstripe found her first.
“Okay,” he meowed. “I’ll follow the border up to Fourtrees to see if she’s gone that way. Sandstorm, you go back to camp. Tell the others what’s happened, and warn them not to attack Graypool if they see her.”
Sandstorm rolled her eyes. “All right,” she mewed as she got to her paws. “I’ll hunt on the way back, though. It’s time someone caught some fresh-kill for the Clan.” With her tail high she stalked off into the trees.
Mistyfoot dipped her head gratefully toward Fireheart. “Thank you,” she meowed. “I won’t forget this. And Fireheart—if you need to cross onto RiverClan territory to bring Graypool home, you can tell any cat who sees you that I gave you permission.”
Fireheart nodded his thanks. He could just imagine what would happen if he were caught on the wrong side of the border by a RiverClan patrol with Leopardfur at its head.
“Come on, Mistyfoot,” Graystripe meowed encouragingly. “I’ll swim back with you. We’ll check the camp again.”
“Thanks, Graystripe.” Mistyfoot pressed her nose briefly to the gray warrior’s fur, and both RiverClan cats bounded down the bank toward the river.
Graystripe glanced back swiftly to yowl good-bye, then launched himself into the water behind Mistyfoot. Fireheart watched them swimming strongly for the far bank before heading upstream toward Fourtrees.
He followed the border, renewing the scent markings as he went, until he was not far from Fourtrees. He found it hard to believe that the fragile elder could have made it this far. But then, looking down a rocky slope toward the river, he caught sight of a skinny gray shape limping slowly over the Twoleg bridge that crossed the river on the route that RiverClan cats took to Fourtrees.
Graypool!
Fireheart opened his jaws to call out to her, and closed them again without making a sound. The old cat had crossed the bridge and was tottering along the very edge of the river. He was afraid that if she heard a strange cat calling to her, she would slip and fall to her death. Instead he began to make his way down the slope, creeping carefully under cover of the rocks in a hunting crouch so she would not see him and be startled.
After a few moments, he saw to his relief that Graypool had turned away from the river and was trying to climb the steep slope toward Fourtrees. Her claws scrabbled feebly on the boulders, and Fireheart wondered where she thought she was going. Did she imagine it was full moon and she was on her way to a Gathering?
Fireheart straightened up and opened his mouth once more to call to her, but again he bit back her name and slipped rapidly into the shelter of the nearest rock. Another cat had appeared, bounding confidently from the direction of Fourtrees. There was no mistaking that huge, muscular body and dark tabby coat.
It was Tigerstar!
Chapter 7
Fireheart peered out from behind his rock. Tigerstar had spotted Graypool and had changed direction toward her. As the dark tabby approached, Graypool reared back in surprise and fell, only to struggle back onto her paws and face Tigerstar. The ShadowClan leader padded up to her and meowed something, but Fireheart was too far away to make out the words.
Flattening his belly to the ground, he crept toward them, using all his hunting skills to stay undetected. Fortunately the wind was blowing toward him, so Tigerstar was unlikely to scent him. Fireheart was unwilling to meet the ShadowClan leader unless he had to. With any luck, Tigerstar was on his way to visit Leopardfur again and would help Graypool back to the RiverClan camp.
Fireheart prowled closer, flattening himself against the turf until he reached the shelter of another rock almost on a level with the other two cats. Graystripe had said that Tigerstar had visited RiverClan the day before. Why should he need to return so soon?
“Don’t pretend you don’t know me.” Fireheart hardly recognized the quavering voice as Graypool’s. “I know who you are, right enough. You’re Oakheart.”
Fireheart stiffened. Oakheart was the name of the cat who fathered Mistyfoot and Stonefur, and took them to RiverClan when Bluestar gave them up. He had been killed in battle just before Fireheart joined ThunderClan, but he had looked a little like Tigerstar—a big tom with a dark pelt.
With infinite caution, Fireheart raised his head to peer over the rock where he was sheltering. Graypool was crouched on a sparse patch of grass just above an outcrop of stones. She was looking up at Tigerstar, who loomed over her a couple of tail-lengths farther up the slope.
“I haven’t seen you for moons,” Graypool went on. “Where have you been hiding yourself?”
Tigerstar stared down at her with narrowed eyes. Fireheart waited for him to tell the elderly she-cat that she had made a mistake. His blood ran cold when Tigerstar just meowed, “Oh…here and there.”
What in StarClan’s name is he playing at? Fireheart wondered.
“You might at least have come to see me,” Graypool complained. “Don’t you want to know how those kits are doing?”
The massive tom’s ears pricked up, and his amber eyes glowed with interest. “What kits?”
“What kits, he says!” Graypool broke into rusty laughter. “As if you didn’t know! The two ThunderClan kits that you asked me to take care of.”
Fireheart froze. Graypool had just given away Bluestar’s most deeply buried secret!
Tigerstar’s muscles tensed, and he gazed at Graypool more intently still, his interest clear in every line of his body. He thrust his head forward and meowed something so softly that Fireheart could not catch it.