“Ah. Bluestar thought you might be. That’s why she asked me to help you with Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw’s training today. Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Fireheart meowed.
“Right, then,” Runningwind decided. “I’ll meet you in the hollow after I’ve eaten. If Swiftpaw’s coming down with a cold, we should have the place to ourselves. Are you hungry?” Fireheart shook his head, and Runningwind trotted away to pick through the leftovers from last night’s fresh-kill.
Fireheart went straight to the training hollow and waited for the others to arrive. His mind was not on training; he was still thinking about Graystripe. He felt sure his friend would slip out of camp again today.
A rain-laden wind was beginning to sway the leafless branches above the hollow when Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw arrived, followed by Runningwind.
“What are we doing today?” asked Cinderpaw, scampering down into the hollow. Fireheart stared at her blankly. He hadn’t thought about it at all.
“Hunting?” Brackenpaw mewed hopefully as he trotted after Cinderpaw.
Runningwind padded across the hollow and joined them. “How about practicing some stalking techniques?” he suggested.
“Good idea,” Fireheart agreed quickly.
“Not the old ‘rabbit hears you, mouse feels you’ lesson again!” Cinderpaw moaned.
Runningwind silenced her with a look and turned to Fireheart.
Fireheart realized with a jump that Runningwind was waiting for him to start. “Er, I’ll start by showing you the best way to stalk rabbit,” he stammered. He dropped into a crouch and began to move forward, fast and light, until he reached the end of the hollow. He stood and turned to find the other three cats staring at him quizzically.
“Are you sure that’d fool a rabbit?” mewed Cinderpaw, her whiskers twitching.
Fireheart felt confused for a moment until he realized he’d just demonstrated his best bird-stalking technique. A rabbit would have heard the swish of his fur through the undergrowth three fox lengths away.
Fireheart looked at Runningwind, embarrassed. The tabby warrior frowned. “How about I show you two how to creep up on a shrew?” Cinderpaw turned her bright gaze from Fireheart to Runningwind. Fireheart sighed and padded over to watch.
By sunhigh, Fireheart was still finding it difficult to concentrate on the training session. He kept imagining Graystripe sneaking out of the camp, and longed to follow him. Eventually his restlessness overwhelmed him. He went over to Runningwind and spoke quietly into his ear. “I have a bellyache,” he meowed. “Can you take over the training for the rest of the day? I want to see if Yellowfang has anything for it.”
“I thought you seemed a little distracted,” Runningwind replied. “You go back to camp. I’ll take this pair out hunting.”
“Thanks, Runningwind,” meowed Fireheart, feeling a pang of shame that Runningwind had believed him so easily.
He limped across the hollow, trying to look as if he were in pain. As soon as he was safely among the trees, he broke into a run and raced back to the camp. When Graystripe had returned yesterday, he’d appeared from behind the nursery. Fireheart knew from experience that this was the best place to slip through the camp boundary without being noticed—it was where Yellowfang had escaped from the camp when the Clan had suspected the old medicine cat of Spottedleaf’s murder.
Fireheart padded around the outside of the camp and sniffed at the wall of bracken. His heart sank as he picked up Graystripe’s scent. Graystripe had definitely been sneaking out of the camp this way, and often by the smell of it. At least the scent was stale, which meant he hadn’t been this way today.
Fireheart crouched behind a nearby tree and settled down to wait. The wood was growing darker as rain clouds began to push across the sky. The shadows hid him perfectly, and he made sure he was downwind so Graystripe wouldn’t detect him. His belly really was aching now, tense with guilt and apprehension. He half hoped Graystripe wouldn’t come, half hoped he would just lead him to some quiet spot within ThunderClan’s borders.
Fireheart’s heart lurched as he heard a rustling in the bracken wall. A gray nose was pushing its way through the fronds. Fireheart ducked his head as Graystripe looked around cautiously. After a few moments, the warrior leaped out and set off at a trot toward the training hollow.
Hope flared in Fireheart’s chest. Perhaps Graystripe’s cold was better and he’d decided to join the training session. He set off after him, keeping a safe distance behind, relying on scent rather than sight to track his friend.
But when the trail veered away from the path that led to the training hollow, Fireheart knew that his hope had been in vain. With an ominous sense of dread, he saw the distinctive gray rock loom ahead through the trees: Sunningrocks. Fireheart pricked his ears and opened his mouth, testing the breeze for the smell of enemy cats. At the edge of the trees, he caught a glimpse of a broad-shouldered gray cat slipping past the rocks, toward the RiverClan border. There was no doubt now where Graystripe was heading.
As soon as his friend was out of sight, Fireheart padded forward and peered down the slope to the river. By the swaying of the undergrowth, Fireheart could guess where Graystripe was. He just hoped there weren’t any RiverClan warriors watching too.
Fireheart made his way down through the fronds. The river wasn’t frozen anymore—he could hear the water lapping at the bank and splashing over the boulders. He slowed his pace as he reached the edge of the bracken and peered out at the open shore.
Graystripe was sitting on the pebbles. The gray warrior was looking around, his ears pricked, but Fireheart could tell from the relaxed slope of his shoulders that he wasn’t listening for prey.
A strange cat’s call sounded in the distance. A RiverClan patrol? Fireheart’s fur prickled and his muscles instinctively tensed, but Graystripe didn’t move. Then Fireheart heard a rustle in the bracken beyond the river. Still Graystripe stayed where he was. Fireheart held his breath as a face appeared on the far riverbank. With barely a sound, the silver she-cat emerged from the undergrowth and slipped into the river. Fireheart felt his heart miss a beat. It was Silverstream, the she-cat who had rescued his friend!
She swam easily across the river. Graystripe stood up and mewed with delight, kneading the pebbles with his paws in anticipation. Holding his tail high, he padded to the edge of the water as she climbed onto the shore.
Silverstream shook the drops from her fur, and the two gray cats touched noses gently. Graystripe rubbed his muzzle along her jaw and she lifted her chin happily. Then Silverstream stood on tiptoe and wound her slender body around his. For once Graystripe didn’t seem to mind getting wet at all, because he purred loud enough for Fireheart to hear as Silverstream pressed her damp fur against him.
Chapter 14
Fireheart’s hackles bristled with horror. How could Graystripe be so stupid? He was breaking every part of the warrior code by meeting this cat from another Clan.
“Graystripe!” Fireheart hissed as he sprang from the bushes.
The two cats spun around to face him. Silverstream’s ears flattened angrily. Graystripe just stared at him, startled. “You followed me!”
Fireheart ignored his stunned meow. “What are you doing? Don’t you know how dangerous this is?”
Silverstream spoke up. “It’s okay. There won’t be a patrol here till after sunset.”
“You can be sure of that, can you? As if you know all your Clan’s movements!” Fireheart growled.
Silverstream lifted her chin. “Actually, I do. My father is Crookedstar, the leader of RiverClan.”