Firestar’s paws itched to chase it, but he wouldn’t take prey on another Clan’s territory; besides, a Clan leader who traveled to Highstones to meet with StarClan at the Moonstone wasn’t allowed to eat on the journey.
The sun had risen by the time the barren moorland gave way to lush meadows bounded by hedges and Twoleg fences.
A Twoleg nest came into sight, and Firestar heard the distant barking of a dog. He looked around warily, tasting the air, but the dog scent was stale, and he reminded himself that by now the farm dogs, who were left to run loose at night, would be tied up again.
He skirted the Twoleg nest, slinking along in the shadow of a hedge. Another scent drifted toward him, stronger and fresher than the scent of dog: rats! Firestar paused, remembering how on his first journey to Highstones Bluestar had lost a life in a battle with rats very near this place. Pinpointing the source of the scent, he realized that he was downwind of it; with any luck he could pass without letting the rats know he was here.
Not far away from the Twoleg nest was a barn built of rough stone. Firestar headed for it and halted outside the door. A strong scent of cats flowed out of a gap at the bottom.
Firestar felt a purr growing in his chest. “Hi,” he mewed.
“Can I come in?”
“Firestar!” A delighted meow came from inside the barn, and a black cat’s head poked out of the gap. “What are you doing here?”
Firestar slid through the door and stood among the dusty scraps of straw on the floor of the barn. He was greeted enthusiastically by Ravenpaw, who had been a ThunderClan apprentice when Firestar first came to the forest. Ravenpaw had known too much about Tigerstar’s crimes, and Firestar had brought him to the barn before the bloodthirsty deputy murdered him to keep him quiet. Ravenpaw had been scrawny and nervous back then; now he was sleek and full-fed, his black pelt shining in the sunlight that angled through a hole in the barn roof.
“It’s good to see you again,” Firestar meowed. The last time he and Ravenpaw had met was at the battle with BloodClan, when the black cat and his friend Barley had joined in the fight with the forest cats.
“Welcome.” Ravenpaw touched noses with his former
Clanmate. “Is all well in ThunderClan?”
“Fine,” Firestar replied. “But I—”
He broke off as another voice called out a greeting. Barley, the black-and-white cat who shared the barn with Ravenpaw, appeared at the top of a pile of straw bales and dropped neatly down at Firestar’s side. He was a short, compact cat, well muscled, even though his belly was a bit too plump from all the mice that lived in the barn.
“Do you want to hunt?” he offered. “There’s plenty of prey.
Take as much as you like.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Firestar answered regretfully. Water flooded his jaws at the smell of mice; he could hear the tiny squeakings among the straw. “I’m on my way to the Moonstone, so I’m not allowed to eat.”
“That’s tough,” meowed Ravenpaw. “But you can rest here, can’t you? There’s no point in going to Highstones yet. You’ll arrive long before sunset.”
“Thanks. I’m so tired I could sleep on my paws.”
Ravenpaw led the way to the opposite side of the barn, where he and Barley had made nests in a loose heap of hay.
Barley left them to talk together, giving Firestar a friendly nod before sliding out of the barn.
Firestar turned around two or three times, making himself a comfortable spot before curling up with the sweet-smelling stems tickling his nose.
“So, what brings you to the Moonstone?” Ravenpaw asked, and added hastily, “You don’t have to tell me.”
Firestar hesitated. So far the only cat he’d confided in was Cinderpelt, and he hadn’t told her everything. He suddenly realized what a relief it would be to share his worries with a cat who didn’t look upon him as a leader, but as a friend.
“I’ve had strange dreams,” he began, describing for Ravenpaw the stretch of unfamiliar moorland and the shrill wailing of cats lost in the mist. “And that’s not all. I’ve started to see things when I’m awake, too. There’s one cat—a pale gray warrior—that I’ve seen three times now. Not just him… a whole Clan of cats, shining like starlight. I saw them last night at the Gathering, but no other cat knew they were there.
Sometimes I think I’m going mad.”
Ravenpaw’s green eyes were filled with concern. “Are you sure they’re not from StarClan?”
For a heartbeat Firestar felt how strange it was to talk about StarClan with a cat who didn’t belong to a Clan anymore.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten my warrior ancestors,” Ravenpaw put in, as though he guessed what his friend was thinking. “I may not go to Gatherings anymore, but there’s a part of me that will always be a Clan cat.”
Firestar blinked, understanding. “I’m sure the cats I’ve seen aren’t any of the warrior ancestors I know. I don’t recognize any of them, or their scent. I don’t know who or what they are, or why I keep seeing them. That’s what worries me.”
Ravenpaw flicked the white tip of his tail. “StarClan will probably be able to explain when you share tongues tonight.
Why don’t you sleep now, so you’ll be ready?”
“I think I will,” Firestar murmured. “Wake me at sunhigh, please.”
With a drowsy purr, he settled himself more comfortably in his nest of hay. Sunlight slanted through the dust-filled air, the motes dancing like tiny stars. His eyes closed, and he drifted into a warm, hay-scented sleep.
Only a few heartbeats seemed to have passed before Firestar felt a paw prodding him in the side. He blinked his eyes open to see Ravenpaw standing over him.
“It’s sunhigh,” the black cat meowed.
Firestar rose and arched his back in a luxurious stretch. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so soundly. In the ThunderClan camp, even if he didn’t dream of the moorland, his sleep had been disturbed ever since he first saw the pale gray cat. He wondered if he had rested so well because he was away from the forest. Was it only there that the strange cats could reach him?
He said a quick good-bye to Barley and Ravenpaw. The prey scent in the barn was more enticing than ever, reminding him of his empty belly. He wished he had taken the time to hunt and eat before he left Fourtrees, but it was too late now. He left the barn and temptation behind him, and set out for Highstones.
By the time he reached the ridge, crossing the Thunderpath and scrambling up the rocky slopes, the sun was going down. The dark hole of Mothermouth gaped in the hillside. Firestar found a flat-topped stone and sat looking out across the Twoleg fields and nests, until darkness fell and the moon shed its silver light over the jagged rocks.
He had walked down the lightless tunnel that led to the Moonstone many times, but fear still gripped his belly as he stepped into the hungry shadows. Only his whiskers brushing the walls on each side and his paws on the rough, downward slope told him which way to go. Once he had left the opening behind him, the air was stale, with a tang of dust and stone.
Firestar shivered to think of the weight of rock above his head, pressing down on the fragile tunnel.
At last came the moment when the air grew fresher again, bringing the scents of the moor to his nose. The tunnel opened out into a large cave, and he caught a glimpse of the stars glittering far above, shedding their faint light through a hole in the roof. He could just make out the dark shape of the Moonstone in front of him, stretching three tail-lengths high from the floor of the cave. Wrapping his tail around his paws, he sat down to wait.
The change came with a blinding flash, as if every star in Silverpelt had poured down into the cave at once. The moon shifted in the sky until it shone down through the hole in the roof; in its light the Moonstone glittered like dew, shedding a pale, sparkling light on the cavern walls and the high, arched roof.