He wasn’t a kittypet anymore, and this wasn’t where he belonged!
“No,” he mewed. “It’s not dark yet. We can’t waste the rest of the day.”
Sandstorm opened her jaws to argue, but something in Firestar’s face must have stopped her, because she followed him without protest as he led the way out of the nest.
The wind battered Firestar as soon as he emerged. Rain slapped him in the face and soaked his fur within heartbeats.
He knew it would be more sensible to go back, but pride wouldn’t let him change his mind. Lowering his head, he fought his way into the wind and down to the riverbank.
The river had changed since he and Sandstorm had left it to enter the nest. The water level had risen much higher, churning with muddy brown waves that slopped against the top of the bank. Wind lashed the reeds, blowing them nearly flat; the stems whipped the cats’ fur with stinging blows as they battled through the gloom. The waning moon showed fitfully among the clouds, its faint light useless to guide their pawsteps.
Firestar heard an angry hiss from Sandstorm, and knew she thought they should find shelter, but he also knew that she was too stubborn to ask twice. He was desperate to keep going, whatever the weather, to find SkyClan and reassure himself that he had been right to leave the forest.
Soon the river rose higher still, washing through the reeds and around the cats’ paws. On the side away from the river they were hemmed in by bushes, the thorny branches growing too thickly for them to force a way through. Lightning stabbed down from the sky, followed almost at once by a crack of thunder right overhead, as loud as if the sky were splitting into fragments. The cold light turned the driving rain to silver and shone blackly on Firestar’s and Sandstorm’s drenched pelts, plastered against their bodies.
At the next flash Firestar looked up and thought he caught a glimpse of the SkyClan cat’s face in the rolling purple clouds. Before he could be sure, the face changed to Bluestar’s. Firestar thought she was gazing down at him with a pleading expression, as if she was terrified for her former Clanmates and wanted them to turn back. Firestar wanted to yowl a question to her, but at that moment lightning split the sky again and the face vanished.
We can’t turn back, Firestar told himself. Not now that we’ve come so far.
He splashed on, head down and tail drooping under the driving rain. Suddenly a surge of water washed over the path.
Firestar was swept off his paws. He opened his jaws to yowl a warning to Sandstorm and gulped in icy water as his head went under.
Paws working frantically, he struggled upward. At first when his head broke the surface he couldn’t see anything but tossing waves. Then he caught a glimpse of the bushes on the bank and swam toward them. The cold made his legs feel stiff, and his sodden fur dragged at him. The surge began to recede, carrying him away from the bushes again. Firestar swam even more desperately, terrified of being swept out into the churning river.
Then his paws touched the ground. He dug in his claws and managed to cling on as the wave gurgled past him, leaving him in water that washed against his belly fur. Shaking with cold and terror, he looked back. “Sandstorm!” he yowled.
There was no reply, and at first Firestar couldn’t see his mate. Then he spotted her, clinging with teeth and claws to a jutting root a few tail-lengths downstream. As Firestar waded back to her she scrambled to her paws and spat out river water.
“Are you okay?” Firestar panted.
“What does it look like?” Sandstorm hissed, lashing her tail. “We could have been washed away. Why can’t you listen to me for once, instead of being so stubborn?”
Guilt washed over Firestar like another wave. Sandstorm was right; if they had stayed in the shelter of the abandoned nest they would have been warm and safe now.
“I’m sorry—”
“‘Sorry’ catches no prey!” Sandstorm snapped back at him.
“Admit it, Firestar; you don’t really want me here at all.”
“That’s not true!” Firestar protested.
“I don’t believe you!” Sandstorm glared at him, then added more softly, “I know you love me, Firestar, but is that enough?
Don’t you wish Spottedleaf were with you right now?”
The question took Firestar by surprise. What would it be like to have the StarClan medicine cat by his side? Would she be able to convince him that he was doing the right thing?
As he hesitated, the anger faded from Sandstorm’s gaze, replaced by a look of horror. “Don’t say a word, Firestar,” she mewed. “I know what your answer would be.”
“No, I didn’t mean—”
Not listening to him, Sandstorm spun around and dashed off, back the way they had come, her paws splashing along the flooded path.
“Sandstorm, wait!” Firestar yowled. He forced himself to bound through the water until he caught up with the fleeing she-cat. “You’ve got to listen to me.”
Sandstorm rounded on him. “I don’t want to listen!” she hissed. “I’m going home. I know you don’t want me. You’ve never wanted me as much as you want Spottedleaf.”
“It’s different; that’s all!” Firestar protested. “You can’t ask me to choose between you. You’re both important, and I—”
Lightning crackled across the sky again, clawing at a beech tree on top of the bank. Thunder rolled out, and a deep groaning sound answered from the tree. The top began to tilt, slowly at first, then faster and faster, as the tree fell across the river, the highest branches crashing down on the opposite bank. Firestar and Sandstorm leaped back as sharp, whipping twigs lashed the path where they had been standing.
The two cats crouched on the flooded path until the noise died away. As the fallen tree rustled into silence, Firestar rose cautiously to his paws. “Wait for me here,” he mewed. “I’ll check out the other bank. It doesn’t look so wet over there.”
For a moment Sandstorm stared at him in silence. Her gaze was cold, as if she wasn’t in the mood to obey his order.
Firestar wondered what he would do if she insisted on leaving. Then she nodded abruptly. “Okay.”
The falling tree seemed to have ended their quarrel—for now. Firestar breathed silent thanks to StarClan as he clambered onto the tree trunk, trying to sink his claws into the smooth gray bark.
The first few paces were easy, but as the trunk grew narrower it began to bounce under Firestar’s weight. Once he reached the branches he had to climb over them. He dug in his claws even harder, terrified that he would slip into the churning current. He flinched as water splashed up between the branches, and felt the surging black river swirl around his hind legs. He clawed his way to safety, half-blinded by bunches of leaves. Twigs scraped his face and snagged in his fur. For a heartbeat he froze as the trunk shifted under his paws; the whole tree was threatening to roll over and pitch him into the water. Bunching his muscles, he sprang forward, pushing his way through the slender upper branches, and landed safely on the far side.
The bank was higher here, with water sucking a couple of mouse-lengths below the top. Trees spread their branches over it, giving some shelter from the driving rain. Firestar drew a few panting breaths, then turned back toward Sandstorm, still waiting on the opposite bank.
“It’s okay!” he called. “You can—”
A rumbling sound interrupted him. At first he thought it was thunder, but it grew louder and louder. Sandstorm was staring upstream, her eyes stretched wide with horror.
Firestar whipped around. A huge wave was bearing down on them, brown and topped with foam, bearing sticks and debris along with it, roaring louder than any monster.
Firestar let out a screech of shock. Dashing to the nearest tree, he leaped up and sank his claws into the trunk. Then the wave was upon him. It surged past, swirling over the tree trunk less than a tail-length below him. Spray spattered his fur. Firestar clung there until the wave had passed. When he climbed down he stared in horror at the river. The fallen tree had been swept away.