“Pinestar! What are you doing?”
The ThunderClan leader froze and looked straight at Lionpaw.
A flash of horror appeared in his eyes; then he ran across the lawn.
“You shouldn’t be here!” he hissed. “What if that kittypet comes back?”
“RiverClan is invading!” Lionpaw told him. “You have to come!”
Pinestar looked down at his paws. “I can’t.”
“Why not? Did the kittypet hurt you?” Lionpaw peered at him but couldn’t see any blood.
“There is no other kittypet,” Pinestar mumbled. “Only me.”
Lionpaw shook his head, confused. “You’re just pretending to be a kittypet. So the Twoleg doesn’t chase you away.”
Pinestar glanced over his shoulder. The Twoleg was standing on the stone watching them. “She won’t chase me away,” he mewed. “She likes me.”
Lionpaw stared at him in disbelief. “But you’re our Clan leader! You can’t be friends with Twolegs!”
“Then I can’t be your leader anymore,” Pinestar whispered.
“I’m sorry, Lionpaw. I can’t keep the Clan safe. I’m too old, too scared of losing any more battles. Sunfall will make a better leader than me. Tell ThunderClan that I am dead.”
Lionpaw felt a surge of anger. “No! I will not lie for you! You might not want to be our leader anymore, but you could at least be brave enough to tell the Clan yourself. They deserve to know the truth, that you are leaving to become a kittypet.”
He whirled around and scrabbled back over the fence. He heard Pinestar following, and the Twoleg call out in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll come back, I promise!” Pinestar meowed from the top of the fence, before jumping down after Lionpaw.
They ran back through the forest. With a jolt, Lionpaw wondered what had happened by Sunningrocks. Had Thrushpelt’s patrol been enough to drive out the RiverClan invaders? Would
Pinestar be forced to fight for his Clan one last time?They reached the ravine and jumped down. The gorse tunnel was trembling as if several cats had just burst through it. The clearing was crowded with warriors and apprentices circling, some of them bleeding from scratches, others limping. Featherwhisker, the apprentice medicine cat, was chasing Rosepaw around with a mouthful of marigold leaves.
“If you just keep still long enough for me to put these on your cut,” the medicine cat puffed, his voice muffled through the herbs, “I’ll be able to treat the other cats.”
“Treat them first!” Rosepaw protested. “That stuff stings!”
The cats fell silent one by one as they spotted Pinestar.
When they were all quiet, Sunfall stepped out, bleeding from a torn ear.
“Where were you, Pinestar?” he asked.
Pinestar didn’t answer at once. “Did you win?”
Sunfall nodded. “We chased those fish-faces back as far as the river. They still have Sunningrocks—that is a battle for another day—but they won’t set foot across the border for a while.”
“Good,” Pinestar meowed. He padded across the clearing and jumped onto Highrock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather to hear what I have to tell you!” he yowled.
Most of the Clan were in the clearing already, but they turned to face Highrock and settled down. Lionpaw joined Rosepaw and Bluefur, who was licking one of her claws. “I nearly tore it out on a RiverClan warrior!” she whispered proudly.
Lionpaw looked up at Pinestar. It felt so strange, knowing what he was going to say. The blood roared in his ears, and he didn’t hear the start of the Clan leader’s announcement, just the gasps of shock around him. Sunfall said something; then Pinestar spoke again.
“I have been honored to serve you for eight of my lives. My ninth will be spent as a kittypet, where I have no battles to fight, no lives depending on me for food and safety. Sunfall will lead you well, and StarClan will understand.”
“The other Clans might not,” Sunfall warned. “You won’t be able to come back to the forest, you know.”
Pinestar let out an amused huff. “Oh, I can imagine the names they’ll call me. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the leaders suggests an addition to the warrior code, that all true warriors scorn the easy life of a kittypet. But you’ll make ThunderClan as strong as it ever was, Sunfall. My last act as leader is to entrust my Clan to you, and I do it confidently.”
Sunfall dipped his head. “I am honored, Pinestar. I promise I will do my best.”
Pinestar jumped down from Highrock and wove among his Clanmates for the last time.
A sleek black she-cat stepped forward. “Pinestar, what about our kits? Won’t you stay to watch them grow up?” She nodded to the three tiny cats beside her. Two were weak and sickly-looking, slumped on the ground with glazed eyes, but the third, Tigerkit, was a sturdy dark brown tabby, who pounced on his father’s tail.
Pinestar gently pulled it away.
“They’ll be fine with you, Leopardfoot. I’m not a father they could be proud of, but I will always be proud of them. Especially you, little warrior,” he added, bending down to touch his muzzle to the dark tabby’s ears.
Tigerkit gazed up at him with huge amber eyes and growled, showing thorn-sharp teeth.
“Be strong, my precious son,” Pinestar murmured. “Serve your Clan well.”
He straightened up and continued across the clearing. He paused once more beside Lionpaw. “Thank you,” he meowed. “You were right. I had to tell my Clan myself. You have a good spirit, young one. When it is time for you to receive your warrior name, tell Sunfall I would have called you Lionheart.”
He nodded, then padded softly into the gorse tunnel and disappeared. Lionpaw watched until the gorse stopped shaking.
May StarClan walk your path, always, he murmured to the old leader. And may I be worthy of my warrior name.
Lionheart.
A Change of Heart: Sandstorm Speaks
If Fireheart was just a kittypet, would he have gone to Tallstar behind Bluestar’s back and arranged to stop the battle before it began? Would he have risked Bluestar’s trust because he believed what he was doing was best for the Clan? Would so many of his Clanmates have supported him, even Whitestorm and Goldenflower?
Dustpelt tells me over and over that Fireheart can never be a true Clan warrior because he wasn’t born in the forest. He belonged to Twolegs, who fed him that muck that looks like rabbit droppings, and made him wear a collar! He was such a show-off when he first came to ThunderClan. He always had to be best in training, or catch the most prey, and be the most solemn when we went to Gatherings. Dustpelt and I could never figure out why
Graystripe was friends with him; he didn’t seem to know what fun was.
And he was always causing trouble! Like taking Ravenpaw away—Fireheart said he didn’t know what happened when Ravenpaw vanished, but I saw them sneaking out of the camp. He always seemed to be doing something to annoy Tigerclaw. But now it looks as if he was right, and Tigerclaw was our biggest enemy all along. Would a kittypet have been able to figure that out? Not even Bluestar realized until Tigerclaw tried to kill her.
Maybe it’s because Fireheart was a kittypet. He doesn’t just accept the warrior code; he thinks about it and figures out how it’s supposed to work. And when it doesn’t, like when he should have obeyed his leader who ordered him to attack WindClan, he challenges it and does something different. Is that a weakness in Clan cats, that we do what we’re told just because that’s what our ancestors did?