Firestar stiffened, glancing toward Stick and Cora. The black she-cat rose to her paws, arched her back in a long stretch, then padded over to him. “Here they come,” she mewed.
More cats followed the first, emerging from between the trees or through the gap where the rogues and Firestar had entered. Others leaped down from the walls. Firestar watched them greet one another with friendly reserve, just as different Clan cats did at Fourtrees.
Cora waved her tail. “Come on; I’ll introduce you.”
Stick joined them as they headed for the nearest group of cats, three of them, who were sitting by the puddle where Firestar had drunk.
“…and so I said to the rat,” a black tom was meowing, “‘Come one step farther and I’ll rip your pelt off.’”
A brown tabby looked up from the puddle. “What happened then?”
“Its mate jumped him from behind,” the third cat, a beautiful white queen, replied with a mrrow of amusement.
The black tom bared his teeth in a snarl. “So what? I ripped the pelts off both of them.”
“That’s Coal,” Cora murmured in Firestar’s ear. “He’s the biggest boaster around.”
“But his claws are sharp,” Stick added.
The white she-cat yawned. “Who wants to eat rat, anyway?
I had some Twoleg milk.”
“And hedgehogs fly,” Coal snapped.
“I did!” The white she-cat’s eyes stretched wide with indignation. “The bottle was standing on the step, so I tipped it over and all the milk flowed out.” She swiped her tongue around her jaws. “It was delicious.”
“The white cat is Snowy,” Stick told Firestar. “She spends a lot of time around Twolegs. She might have seen your friend there.”
Firestar shook his head. “I doubt it. Sandstorm wouldn’t go near Twolegs if she could help it.”
“Snowy, I saw you near that nest.” The brown tabby got up from the puddle, and Firestar saw that half his tail was missing. “You might not have noticed that they have a new dog there. It chased me off when I was stalking a mouse in their garden. I’d stay well away if I were you.”
Snowy stretched and extended her claws. “I’ve seen the dog—stupid hairy lump. I can deal with it.”
Coal snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”
The brown tabby padded over to sit between Coal and Snowy. “Hi, there. I saw a strange cat today,” he began.
Firestar’s ears pricked.
“A couple of Twoleg kits had grabbed her,” the tabby tom went on, flexing his claws. “I soon showed them what’s what.”
Snowy turned toward him with an angry glare. “Shorty!
You didn’t claw young Twolegs, did you?”
“What if I did?” Shorty snapped back. “They deserved it, mauling a cat. But no,” he went on, “I didn’t hurt them. I had my claws sheathed. I just distracted them so the ginger cat could escape.”
“Ginger!” Firestar exclaimed.
Stick’s eyes gleamed. “That could be your friend.”
“Why didn’t you bring her to meet us?” Snowy asked Shorty.
“No time.” The tabby tom’s amber eyes shone with admiration. “She jumped over the fence as if she’d sprouted wings.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat move so fast.”
Firestar touched Stick on the shoulder with his tail. “I’ve got to talk to that cat.”
“Okay,” Stick replied. “Follow me.”
He strolled forward, tail waving, until he came up to the group of three cats. “Hi,” he meowed. “There’s a cat here who wants to meet you.”
All three cats fixed their gaze on Firestar. He dipped his head respectfully. “Greetings. How’s the prey running?”
Coal and Snowy exchanged a glance, as if they thought he’d said something odd. Firestar hoped he hadn’t sounded too weird.
“You’re new around here,” Coal mewed. “Where are you from?”
Firestar didn’t want to tell these cats about the forest.
What if they decided to invade his home, like BloodClan?
“Downstream,” he replied, hoping that was vague enough.
“His name’s Firestar,” Cora added, padding up to his side.
“Firestar, meet Snowy, Coal, and Shorty.”
“Have you come to stay?” Snowy’s brilliant blue gaze was friendly.
“No, I’m just passing through,” Firestar told her. “I was with another cat, but we got separated in the storm.” Eagerly he turned to Shorty. “I heard what you said about the ginger cat. I think it might have been my friend.”
Shorty’s whiskers twitched; he got up and came to sniff Firestar. “Could be,” he meowed. “She had the same sort of scent as you: trees and leaves and river water.”
Firestar took a breath, his heart thudding painfully. “Can you show me where you met her?”
Shorty waved the stump of his tail. “Sure.”
“But not tonight.” Cora thrust her way between Firestar and Shorty. “Look at you,” she added, interrupting Firestar as he tried to protest. “A puff of wind would blow you over. You need a good night’s rest and some more prey before you’re fit to go anywhere.”
Firestar dug his claws into the ground in frustration. I’m a warrior! he thought resentfully. I don’t need to rest. “But Sandstorm might leave,” he meowed. He didn’t voice his other fear, that Shorty might wander off and Firestar would never see him again.
“Your friend won’t go anywhere by night in a strange place,” Cora snapped. “Not unless she’s flea-brained. Shorty, if you take him with you now, I’ll claw off the rest of your tail.”
Shorty shrugged good-humoredly. “I can’t argue with that,” he mewed to Firestar. “Don’t worry; I’ll take you to the place tomorrow.”
Firestar could do nothing but agree. He found a dip in the ground to sleep in, and though he was convinced that worry would keep him awake, he slept almost as soon as he curled up. This time no dreams disturbed him.
He woke the next morning to find himself lying in warm sunlight. Though he hadn’t wanted to delay, he had to admit that he felt much better. Springing to his paws he glanced around, but the only cat he could see was Stick, padding over to him with a mouse dangling from his jaws.
“Here you are,” he meowed, dropping his prey in front of Firestar. “Eat.”
“Where’s Shorty?”
Stick flicked his ears. “Dunno.”
“But he promised to take me to find Sandstorm!”
“Then he will. Keep your fur on; he’ll be back sooner or later.”
Firestar wasn’t sure. Muttering thanks for the fresh-kill, he crouched down to eat, his senses alert for the first sign of the tabby tom’s return. But he was still so weak that exhaustion crept up on him and he slept again.
He woke with a start to see the trees casting long black shadows across the stretch of open ground. Red light washed between them; the sun was sinking again!
Firestar scrambled up, his heart thudding in panic. He spotted Shorty, sitting under the nearest tree, his amber eyes fixed unblinkingly on him.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Firestar demanded.
“What for?” Shorty twitched his whiskers. “Don’t worry; we’ve got plenty of time.”
Firestar bit back what he would have liked to say. If he offended this cat, he might never find Sandstorm at all.
“Come back here if your friend’s not there,” Cora told him, padding up from behind. “We’ll ask around and see if we can find out anything else.”
“I’ll do that,” mewed Firestar. “Thanks.”
“Okay,” meowed Shorty. “Let’s go.”
The brown tabby leaped over the wall and into another of the confusing passages. Trotting down to the end and around a corner, he squeezed through a gap in a wooden fence.