Graystripe lunged again. Fireheart ducked just in time as Graystripe swung a wide gray paw at his ear.
“What are you doing?” Fireheart spluttered.
Graystripe flattened his ears and hissed, “You didn’t trust me! You thought I would betray ThunderClan!” He aimed another swipe. This one caught the tip of Fireheart’s ear.
Pain and fury shot through him. “I just wanted to save you from having to make a choice!” he spat. “Although it’s true that I’m not sure where your loyalties lie right now.”
Graystripe flew at him and knocked him backward. The two cats tussled, claws unsheathed. “I make my own choices,” Graystripe snarled.
Fireheart struggled free and leaped onto Graystripe’s back. “I was trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting!”
Blinded by anger, Fireheart dug his claws into Graystripe’s pelt, but Graystripe flipped Fireheart over and together they rolled out from behind the nursery.
The cats in the clearing sprang out of the way as the two young warriors bundled into them. Fireheart yowled with rage as Graystripe bit his foreleg. He thrust upward with a claw and raked Graystripe above his eye. Graystripe retaliated by lunging downward and sinking his teeth into Fireheart’s hind leg.
“Stop this at once!” Bluestar’s stern yowl made Fireheart and Graystripe freeze. Fireheart released his grip on Graystripe and shuffled painfully sideways. Graystripe backed away, his fur bristling. Out of the corner of his eye, Fireheart saw Tigerclaw sneering with barely suppressed delight, curling his lip back to reveal his teeth.
“Fireheart, I want to see you in my den—now!” Bluestar growled, her blue eyes flashing fire. “Graystripe, go to your nest and stay there!”
The rest of the Clan melted away into the shadows. Fireheart limped after Bluestar to her den. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, feeling worn out and confused.
Bluestar sat down on the sandy floor and stared at Fireheart in disbelief for a moment. Then she meowed angrily, “What was that all about?”
Fireheart shook his head. As furious as he was, he could not reveal his friend’s secret.
Bluestar closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I realize feelings are running high in the camp right now, but I never expected to see you and Graystripe fighting. Are you hurt?”
Fireheart could feel his ear and hind leg stinging, but he shrugged and murmured, “No.”
“Are you going to tell me what this is about?”
Fireheart met her gaze as steadily as she could. “Bluestar, I’m sorry. I can’t explain.” At least that much is true, he thought.
“Very well,” meowed Bluestar at last. “You two can sort it out on your own. The Clan is facing a difficult time, and I won’t tolerate this sort of infighting. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Bluestar,” Fireheart answered. “May I go?”
Bluestar nodded and Fireheart turned and slunk out of her den. He knew he had let his old mentor down. But there was no way he could confide in her. Last time he’d done that, about Ravenpaw’s accusation against Tigerclaw, she hadn’t believed him. And if she believed him this time, he would be betraying his best friend.
Feeling sick with worry, Fireheart crept across the clearing and slipped inside the warriors’ den. He settled into his nest beside Graystripe and curled himself into a tight ball. He lay there, unmoving, aware of Graystripe’s tense body beside his, until sleep finally overcame him.
Fireheart awoke early the next morning. The sun hadn’t risen yet and the clearing was empty as he padded across to Yellowfang’s den. He wanted to see Cinderpaw.
Yellowfang was asleep, curled up beside Brindleface’s sick kits. They squirmed quietly in their nest, their eyes closed. Yellowfang was snoring loudly. Fireheart didn’t want to wake her, so he crept over to Cinderpaw’s nest and peered in.
The little gray cat was asleep too. The blood had been washed from her fur. Fireheart wondered whether she had cleaned it herself or whether Yellowfang had washed it off. Fireheart crouched beside Cinderpaw and watched her breathe. There was something calming about the way her sides rose and fell. She seemed much more peaceful than when he last visited.
He stayed with her until the dawn light filtered through the ferns and he heard the Clan begin to stir. Fireheart got to his paws. He leaned into Cinderpaw’s nest and touched her side softly with his nose.
As he turned to leave, Yellowfang stretched and opened her eyes. “Fireheart?”
“I came to see Cinderpaw,” he whispered.
“She’s doing well,” meowed Yellowfang, pushing herself up.
Fireheart’s eyes clouded with relief. “Thank you, Yellowfang.”
When he reached the clearing, Tigerclaw was addressing a group of warriors and apprentices. He spotted Fireheart straightaway. “Nice of you to show up,” he growled. “Graystripe’s just joined us, too. He’s been having a word with Bluestar.” Fireheart glanced at his friend, but Graystripe was staring at the ground. The other warriors watched in silence as Fireheart hurried over and sat down beside Sandpaw.
“During this thaw, the woods will be alive with prey,” Tigerclaw meowed. “They’ll be hungry after sheltering in their burrows. This will be a good chance to catch as much as we can.”
“But there’s still fresh-kill in the snow store,” Dustpaw mewed.
“It’ll be crowfood soon,” Tigerclaw told him. “We need to take every opportunity to hunt. As leaf-bare goes on, the prey will start to disappear, and what stays around will be too thin.” The warriors nodded in agreement.
“Longtail”—Tigerclaw turned his eyes on the pale tabby warrior—“I want you to organize the hunting parties.” Longtail nodded, and Tigerclaw got up and padded toward Bluestar’s den. As Fireheart watched him disappear through the lichen, he couldn’t help wondering if the leader and deputy would discuss his fight with Graystripe.
Longtail’s voice summoned him away from his thoughts. “Fireheart! You and Sandpaw can join Mousefur. Graystripe can hunt with Whitestorm and Brackenpaw. It’s probably best if I don’t put you two in the same group.”
Amused purrs rippled through the group, but Fireheart narrowed his eyes angrily. He comforted himself by studying the nick he had left in the pale tabby’s ear when Longtail had taunted him on his first day in the camp.
“Good fight last night,” Mousefur rasped beside him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “It almost made up for missing out on a battle.”
Fireheart scowled as Dustpaw added, “Yeah! Nice moves, Fireheart—for a kittypet.” Fireheart gritted his teeth and looked at the ground, sheathing and unsheathing his claws.
The two groups left the camp together. As the hunters filed up the trail out of the ravine, Fireheart looked at the sky. The rain clouds he had seen rolling in last night had covered the sun, and the snow underpaw was turning to slush.
Mousefur led Sandpaw and Fireheart through Tallpines. “I’ll take Sandpaw with me,” the brown warrior told Fireheart. “You can hunt alone. Meet us back at camp at sunhigh.”
Fireheart couldn’t help feeling relieved at the thought of being alone. He stalked away through the trees, still hardly able to believe that he and Graystripe had fought so bitterly. Fireheart felt lost and alone without his old friend, though he barely recognized him anymore. He wondered if they could ever be friends again.
It wasn’t until he felt the softness of leaves beneath his paws that Fireheart realized he’d wandered all the way to the oak woods that backed onto the Twolegplace. Instantly he thought of Princess, and wondered if his paws had carried him to her Twoleg nest for a reason.