One of them let out a weird high-pitched yowl. “Hi, Cherry. Hi, Boris.”
“What do you want?” the other asked, in the same strange voice.
“We’ve brought Firestar to meet you,” Boris meowed.
“This is Rose and this is Lily,” he added to Firestar, flicking his tail at each cat in turn.
“Greetings,” Firestar began. He felt oddly hesitant; these cats couldn’t possibly be SkyClan descendants. “I’ve come to tell you about the cats who used to live in the gorge…”
The two cats listened to him in silence, their vivid eyes fixed disconcertingly on him. When he had finished, they turned the same intense stare on each other.
“What do you think of that?” Rose asked.
“Amazing!” Lily replied.
“You will come to the meeting, won’t you?” Cherry urged them. “It’s going to be really great!”
“What, us?” Rose’s eyes opened wide. “You’re joking, of course.”
“Us live in a cave? With no warm blanket?” Lily added. “No creamed chicken?”
“To chase mice and kill them?” Rose’s tongue rasped delicately over one brown paw. “How vulgar!”
Moving as one, the two cats rested their heads on their paws again and closed their eyes.
Cherry exchanged a glance with Boris, who gave a tiny shrug. “Sorry,” she mewed to Firestar. “It was worth a try.”
“Don’t worry,” Firestar told him. He couldn’t imagine these cats ever adjusting to the life of a Clan, but in case they were still listening he kept his thoughts to himself.
Leaping back onto the fence, he was startled to see that the sun was starting to go down. They had spent most of the day in the Twolegplace and now he was ravenous. At the same moment he heard a distant yowling from a Twoleg several gardens away.
“That’s one of our housefolk,” Boris told him. “We’d better be going.” Sadly, he added, “We’ll miss them, you know.”
“That’s not wrong, is it?” Cherry asked anxiously.
“No,” Firestar replied, remembering his own pangs of homesickness. “It’s not wrong. But you have to choose.”
“We’ve chosen,” Boris meowed determinedly, while
Cherry whisked her tail and added, “Come on, Firestar! We’ll show you the best way out of here.”
Padding back across the scrubland on his own, Firestar spotted movement underneath a thornbush. Cautiously he drew nearer, and recognized the brown rogue who had frightened off the sparrow when he first arrived in the gorge.
The cat was crouched over a piece of fresh-kill, and looked up suspiciously as Firestar approached.
“Hi.” Firestar tried to sound friendly. “Have you heard about the Clan of cats who used to live in the gorge?”
The brown rogue gave a noncommittal grunt and went on eating. Firestar couldn’t be sure he was even listening as he told him about SkyClan and the meeting planned for the following night.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Will you come?”
The rogue swallowed the last mouthful of fresh-kill and cleaned his muzzle with one paw. “I’m fine on my own.” His eyes narrowed. “And I don’t want you ordering me around.”
“It’s not like that—” Firestar protested, but the rogue stalked off without letting him explain. Guilt gnawed at Firestar as he headed back to the gorge. Maybe if he hadn’t been so hostile when they first met, he could have persuaded the brown rogue to give SkyClan a chance.
Finding the trail leading down the cliff face, he padded wearily along it to the warriors’ cave. Faint squeals of excitement rose from the bottom of the gorge; Firestar peered down to spot Sandstorm and Clover’s three kits batting something around at the water’s edge. Warmth flooded through him when he saw how happy and relaxed his mate looked as she played with the kits, happier than she had been since they left the forest.
“Hi, Firestar.” Scratch’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Sandstorm says you’re organizing a meeting to tell more cats about the new Clan. I could take you to some other rogues, if you like. They’ll probably come if I ask them.”
Firestar was glad Scratch was becoming more committed to SkyClan, but not sure he liked the tabby tom’s cool assumption of authority over the other rogues. Still, if they respected him, that would make Firestar’s task easier overall.
“Okay, thanks,” he meowed.
“Let’s go then.” Scratch emerged from the warriors’ den and set off down the trail.
What, now? Firestar wailed inwardly. I haven’t eaten all day!
Sighing, he followed Scratch down the cliff face and caught up with him as he was speaking to Sandstorm. “I’m going to introduce Firestar to a few rogues,” he was telling her.
“Great.” Sandstorm ducked her head as Rock sprang onto her back. “Get off!” she mewed, rolling over and padding gently at him with one paw, her claws sheathed. Rock just squeaked happily, and Sandstorm disappeared under a mound of fur as Bounce and Tiny jumped on her too.
“You’re obviously busy,” Firestar murmured, amused. “I’ll see you later.”
Scratch and Firestar padded side by side across the rocky spur to the trees and undergrowth downstream. Firestar hadn’t visited this part of the territory since his meeting with Cherry and Boris, and his pelt prickled at the memory of being watched. Then he drew to a halt, his heart beginning to thump. This wasn’t just memory! The same sensations poured over him, and icy fear trickled through him from ears to tail tip.
“What’s the matter?” Scratch, some way ahead, glanced over his shoulder.
“Nothing.” Firestar’s voice shook, and he forced it to be steady. “I just thought we might stop and hunt. I haven’t had so much as the sniff of a mouse since this morning.”
“Okay.” Scratch retraced his steps and stood tasting the air.
“Do you smell anything… odd?” Firestar asked. He had picked up the same prey scent as before, masked by the sharp aroma of crushed leaves.
Scratch paused, drew in more air, then shrugged. “Prey.
Grass and leaves. Why?”
“Nothing.” Firestar wanted Scratch to respect him, not think he was a coward looking for danger under every bush.
“Let’s hunt.”
Scratch stalked away into the bushes, and Firestar padded off in another direction. While he tried to find prey, his senses stayed alert for whatever hostile creature was watching him.
Is it something to do with why SkyClan left the gorge? he wondered.
Sky had been reluctant to answer any questions, but Firestar was certain that the old cat knew more than he was telling. I’ll have to question him again, he decided. The future of the new Clan might be at risk if Sky insisted on keeping secrets about possible danger.
Firestar stood in the shadows under a thornbush, looking out across a clear space in the midst of the undergrowth.
Nothing stirred among the ferns and grasses.
“Who are you?” he whispered. “What do you want?”
There was no reply, only vicious hatred hurled at him with such force that it almost carried him off his paws. In the twilight he thought he could make out dark, glinting eyes. His pelt crawled.
A rustling in a nearby bush made him jump, but it was only a vole, dashing out into the open space. Firestar leaped after it and snapped its neck. As he picked it up the scent masked everything else, and the sense of a hostile presence around him faded a little. Still, he pushed his way to the edge of the thicket and out into the open by the river before he crouched to eat his fresh-kill.
Scratch was sitting a few tail-lengths farther downstream, cleaning his face and whiskers. “Are you ready?” he asked, drawing his paw over one ear. “It’ll be dark soon.”