Firestar had to pick his way through marshy woodland, slipping into muddy hollows and snagging his fur on brambles.
At last he reached the little Thunderpath again. Out of habit he crouched beside it, glancing cautiously up and down, but there were no monsters today. Everything was silent except for steady dripping from the trees.
Firestar pushed his way through the undergrowth on the other side of the Thunderpath, hoping to follow the edge of the flood back to the river. But as he emerged from the woods again he heard loud yapping. A Twoleg and a little fox-colored dog were rounding the corner of the nest.
Whipping around, Firestar fled, but he was too late. The dog rushed at him with a flurry of high-pitched yaps. Firestar heard the Twoleg yowl, but the dog kept on coming. Firestar could hear it blundering through the trees behind him. He forced his legs to move even faster. A wall reared up in front of him; without thinking, Firestar took a flying leap, clawed his way up the stones, and paused to look down at his pursuer.
The dog panted up to the wall and sat at the foot, howling. Firestar bared his teeth in a furious hiss, then jumped down into the garden on the other side. As he slid into the shelter of a bush he heard the dog’s Twoleg come crashing up, snarling irritably. The dog’s yapping faded into the distance as it was dragged away.
Firestar crouched in the shelter of the dripping bush and caught his breath. Where could the water have taken
Sandstorm? If the river had flooded this far, she could have been swept away from the bank altogether. If she managed to struggle free, he thought, she might have come this way to escape the flood.
It would be worth searching a few gardens, Firestar decided, to see if he could pick up any trace of her. At least there was no more rain, and the pale sun drew up steam from the sodden grass.
Firestar peered out from behind his bush and examined the garden. It looked empty. There were no sounds coming from the Twoleg nest. But when he tasted the air he couldn’t scent Sandstorm. She wasn’t here; he would have to go on.
Streaking across the grass, he plunged through the bushes at the far side and leaped up onto the opposite wall. Beyond it was a narrow passage; after checking for scent, Firestar jumped down. The wall on the other side was too high to climb, so he trotted along the passage, senses straining for any trace of Sandstorm.
The passage emerged into a tangle of Twoleg nests joined by a small Thunderpath. Everything was quiet, and there were no monsters in sight, not even sleeping ones. All the same, Firestar’s pelt prickled. Being in a Twolegplace didn’t feel right, and he was already beginning to doubt that he would find Sandstorm so far from the river.
I’ll just take a quick look.
But all the nests and gardens looked alike, and the rain had washed away any scents that might have guided him. Jumping up onto a wall that he thought overlooked the passage back to the woods, Firestar found himself staring down into yet another garden.
“Fox dung!” he spat. “Now I’m lost. What else can go wrong?”
He tried to retrace his steps, but somewhere he must have taken a wrong turn. More unfamiliar gardens stretched in front of him, separated by the winding alleys that seemed to turn back on themselves. Several times he crossed his own scent trail, but it didn’t lead him anywhere. By the time night was falling, he still hadn’t found his way back to the river.
He felt too tired to go on searching; warily he dropped down from a fence into one of the gardens and crawled underneath a bush with strong-smelling blue flowers. With luck they would hide his scent from any passing kittypets.
This time his dreams were filled with the voice of his mate, wailing for him in the distance, but however far and fast he ran, he couldn’t catch up with her. When he woke he still felt exhausted, and so miserable that it took an immense effort for him to drag himself out from underneath the bush.
Across the garden a movement caught his eye, and he spotted a plump white cat emerging from the door of the nest. It yawned and stretched, then lay down in a patch of sunlight on some flat stones and began to wash its long, snowy fur.
He looks like Cloudtail, Firestar thought, leaping down and approaching cautiously in case the kittypet displayed any of his kin’s fighting skills.
The cat looked up in surprise and fixed a brilliant blue gaze on Firestar as the ThunderClan leader paused at the edge of the stones and dipped his head politely. Firestar suppressed a spurt of contempt that this kittypet couldn’t be bothered to defend his own territory. He didn’t look as if he had ever raised a claw in anger in his life.
“Greetings,” he meowed.
The white cat blinked at him. “Hi. Who are you?”
“My name’s Firestar. Have you seen a ginger cat recently?”
The kittypet blinked again. “I’ve seen you.”
Firestar gritted his teeth. “Yes, but I’m not looking for me,” he pointed out. He wanted to sink his claws into the kittypet and shake some sense into him, but he managed to stop himself.
“Well…” the white cat went on, “I think I saw a ginger cat
… oh, about five days ago. Or was that a tortoiseshell?”
Firestar took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. Never mind. Can you just tell me how to get back to the river?”
The kittypet twitched his whiskers. “What river?”
Firestar dug his claws into the ground. “Thanks for your help,” he hissed.
Turning his back on the kittypet, he raced across the garden and climbed the wall. Yet another narrow passage lay beyond. With nothing else to do, Firestar padded along it until it emerged into a wide space covered with black Thunderpath stuff. A Thunderpath led out of it from the other side, and all around it were small, square nests with fea-tureless walls and gaping entrances. Some of them were empty, but one of them had swallowed a monster whole.
Every hair on Firestar’s pelt rose. What if one of the nests swallowed him, too? His paws were itching to run back the way he had come, but he thought that if he could get out on the other side, along the Thunderpath, he might be able to find his way back to the river.
Cautiously, pawstep by pawstep, he ventured out onto the hard black surface. He was almost halfway across when he froze at the roar of a monster, growing rapidly louder. The huge creature swept through the opening, sunlight glinting off its shiny pelt, and bore down on Firestar.
Fear slammed into Firestar’s throat. He dodged to one side. The monster followed him. It’s hunting me! Its throaty snarl seemed to be all around him. Letting out a terrified caterwaul, Firestar clawed his way up the wall of one of the nests, across the roof, and crashed down on the other side, too panic-stricken to look where he was going.
His paws sank deep into a pile of Twoleg rubbish. Its reek billowed out around him. Choking, Firestar scrabbled furiously to drag himself out of the mess. Shaking pieces of the stinking stuff from his fur, he collapsed on his side, his head spinning. There was a vile taste in his mouth, and he felt as if every muscle in his body were aching.
Despair crashed over him. He had failed Sandstorm and SkyClan. He had failed his own Clan by abandoning them.
Every decision he had made had been wrong, and he was too exhausted to do any more.
His belly was caterwauling with hunger, but Firestar was too miserable even to try scenting prey. A few tail-lengths away he could see a pile of Twoleg stuff covered by a stiff, shiny pelt. His muscles shrieking in protest, he crawled over to it and slunk into the shelter of the pelt. With a tiny sigh he closed his eyes and let darkness take him.