Some became rogues, and some went to live with Twolegs as kittypets. But SkyClan still lives, although the cats have forgotten their heritage and the warrior code.”
Bewildered, Firestar wondered how the other cat could insist SkyClan survived without any territory, if it had broken up and no cat knew the warrior code. What made a Clan if their home and heritage were gone?
“So why have you come to me?” he asked.
“Because you’re the only cat who can help us,” the warrior replied. He padded forward until he stood within a tail-length of Firestar, and his faint, fugitive scent wreathed around the ThunderClan leader. “You must rebuild SkyClan before it is lost forever.”
Firestar stared at him. How could he rebuild a scattered Clan, when he had no idea how to find its cats, and he had a Clan of his own to lead? “But I—”
The SkyClan warrior ignored him. “You must follow the river to its source,” he commanded. “We fled upstream, and that is where you will find the remnants of the Clan, and a place where they can live.”
Firestar’s mind whirled. “But… but why me?”
The gray cat fixed his gaze on Firestar, his eyes glowing with sorrow. “I have waited long for you to come, a strong cat, a leader, and one who bears no taint of our betrayal in his blood. You are not descended from the cats that drove us out, and yet you are a true Clan warrior. It is your destiny to restore SkyClan.”
Mist swirled around him and his pelt seemed to fade into it, leaving Firestar gazing at the patch of grass where he had stood. Only his scent lingered.
Firestar sat down and wrapped his tail over his paws. He still had not moved when the first traces of dawn appeared in the sky.
The faint wailing of a cat roused him. He sprang to his paws, fur bristling. Was the camp being attacked? Then he remembered where he was; besides, the wailing sounded more impatient than terrified.
Suddenly the door of the Twoleg nest opened and Smudge shot out.
“Honestly!” he panted, hurtling over the grass.
“Sometimes I think my Twolegs are stupid! I asked and asked to come out, but would they get up and open the door?”
“Well, you’re here now,” Firestar meowed, glad that he didn’t have to depend on Twolegs for his freedom.
“Well? Did you dream about my cats?” Smudge demanded.
Firestar nodded. “I spoke to the gray-and-white cat, and I know what I have to do now.”
“What you have to do? But what about me? Why did I get the dreams as well?”
Firestar raised his tail to silence Smudge’s anxious questions. “The cats you saw left the forest a long time ago,” he explained. “Now they’re asking for help. You dreamed about them because this is where they used to live.”
“Here?” Smudge gazed around his garden as if he expected the long-lost cats to emerge from the bushes right then. “So you’re going to help them?”
“Yes, if I can.”
When Firestar saw the relief in Smudge’s eyes, he wondered if that was exactly true. He would have to leave his Clanmates and go on a long journey without knowing where it led. He would have to find a scattered Clan that had long since been abandoned by StarClan. Why should it be his destiny to save them, whether or not ThunderClan’s ancestors carried the guilt of driving them out? His duty lay with ThunderClan, and with the warrior code he had known ever since he came into the forest.
“I’d better go,” he mewed to Smudge. “I’ll tell the patrols to keep a lookout for you—and not to jump on you.”
“Thanks,” Smudge replied. “I’m really grateful, Firestar.
You’re a good friend, but I’m glad I don’t have to come and live with you in the forest!”
“I’m glad too.” Firestar gave Smudge a friendly flick on the ear with the tip of his tail. “I know you wouldn’t like it.”
“Good-bye, then. I’ll see you around sometime.” Smudge began retreating toward the door of the nest, glancing over his shoulder to add, “Let’s hope they can be a bit quicker letting me in.”
Determined to be gone before Smudge’s Twolegs found him in their garden, Firestar bounded across the grass and leaped to the top of the fence.
“Good-bye, Firestar!” It was Hattie’s voice; Firestar spotted her in the next garden, balanced on a low branch of the scratching tree. He waved his tail to her in farewell. “Come and see us again!” she called as he sprang down from the fence and plunged back into the shadow of the trees.
Once he was out of sight of the Twoleg nests he slowed his pace. For once the forest seemed strange to him. He felt oddly detached from it, as if it weren’t real anymore. Instead, he kept thinking of the moorland, and the wails of fleeing cats. Was he really meant to be following in their pawsteps?
After the damp night, the sun had risen into a clear blue sky. Every bush was draped with glittering cobwebs, and dew sparkled on every blade of grass, soaking Firestar’s fur as he brushed through. He halted, his paws tingling when he picked up the scent of approaching cats, only to relax as Thornclaw pushed through a clump of ferns, closely followed by Sootpaw, Sootpaw’s mother, Willowpelt, and Ashfur.
Firestar gave his pelt an annoyed shake. Of course, this was the dawn patrol! Was his mind so full of SkyClan that he couldn’t recognize the scent of his own Clanmates?
“Hi, Firestar.” Thornclaw padded up to him. “Everything okay?”
“Yes—everything’s fine.” Firestar wasn’t about to explain why he had spent the night away from camp.
Thornclaw exchanged a swift glance with Willowpelt, then turned back to his Clan leader. “Graystripe suggested I should take Sootpaw out with me today,” he meowed, resting the tip of his tail on the apprentice’s shoulder. “Longtail can’t mentor him when his eyes are so bad.”
“Good idea.” A pang of guilt stabbed Firestar like a claw; he should have thought about Sootpaw’s training as soon as his mentor, Longtail, had his accident. His dreams of SkyClan were distracting him from his duty to his Clan. “In fact,” he went on, “I think you should take over as Sootpaw’s mentor until Longtail is fit again.” If he ever is. Firestar didn’t dare say it out loud. He was reluctant to admit, even to himself, that Cinderpelt wouldn’t be able to save Longtail from blindness.
Thornclaw’s eyes gleamed. He was a young warrior, and so far he hadn’t had an apprentice. “Thanks, Firestar!” he meowed.
“I’ll announce it later today,” Firestar promised.
“Providing Longtail agrees.”
“I’m sure he will,” Sootpaw put in. “I’ve been taking him fresh-kill and fixing his bedding, and I can still do that.”
“Good.” Firestar gave him an approving nod. Needing to plunge himself back into the life of his Clan, he added, “I’ll join you on patrol, and Sootpaw, you can show me your tracking skills.”
The apprentice’s eyes shone with excitement at the thought of training with his Clan leader. As Thornclaw led the way along the border toward the Thunderpath, Sootpaw kept his nose to the ground, pausing to scent the air every few pawsteps.
“What can you smell?” Firestar meowed.
“The Thunderpath,” Sootpaw replied promptly. “And vole. And a Twoleg with a dog has been along here. No—two dogs.”
“How long ago?” Willowpelt asked.
“Not today,” Sootpaw mewed. “The scent is stale. Maybe yesterday.”
“That’s what I think, too,” Firestar meowed, while
Willowpelt let out a purr of satisfaction. “Okay, carry on.
Sootpaw, tell me if you scent anything else.”
They were so close to the Thunderpath that Firestar could hear the growling of the monsters as they rushed up and down. Soon they emerged from the undergrowth at the edge of the smooth black surface.