Firestar gulped down the rest of the vole. “Okay, lead on.”
The tabby rogue bounded alongside the river until he reached the fallen tree that Sky had used to cross a few days before. Leading Firestar over to the far bank, Scratch started to climb another trail that led up the cliff face on the opposite side. Firestar panted after him, wishing he had the rogue’s powerful haunches. Scratch was a true SkyClan cat!
Firestar had never climbed the cliff on this side of the river before. At the top there was a wide stretch of grass that gave way to undergrowth and then trees. His spirits lifted as he padded with Scratch underneath the branches. This was more like his territory in the forest.
“When we set the borders, we’ll have to make this part of SkyClan territory.” Firestar sniffed appreciatively. “There’s plenty of prey. Moss, too,” he added, flicking his ears toward thick cushions of it growing on the gnarled roots of an oak tree.
Scratch gave him a sidelong glance. “Then you’d better convince the rogues who live here already.”
Firestar realized he had a point. He didn’t want to start the new Clan by throwing other cats out of dens they had occu-pied for moons.
Scratch wove his way through the trees until they came to a hollow tree trunk lying amid lush grass in the middle of a clearing. A pale, blurred shape was visible at the mouth of the tree trunk. As Firestar drew nearer he recognized the cream-and-brown tabby she-cat he had surprised in the scrubland near the Twolegplace.
“Scratch?” Her ears twitched warily as the two toms drew nearer. “Who’s this with you?”
“Hi,” Firestar meowed, slightly embarrassed, when Scratch had introduced him. “We met the other day…”
The she-cat emerged from the end of the trunk; her amber gaze traveled over him steadily. “I remember you,” she murmured. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. You gave me a fright, practically leaping on top of me.”
Firestar dipped his head. “It was my fault.”
“My name’s Leaf,” the she-cat continued, settling down in the long grass and waving her tail to invite Firestar to do the same. “What can I do for you?”
Firestar crouched beside her, tucking his paws underneath him, while Scratch clawed his way to the top of the trunk and gazed out into the trees. Firestar wondered if he was keeping watch, though the hostile sensation had faded as soon as they crossed the river, and now he was aware of nothing more than the ordinary scents and sounds of a forest at dusk.
“You know the place in the gorge where the river flows out?” he began.
Leaf listened in silence to the story of how SkyClan had been forced to flee from the forest. “Why are you telling me?” she asked when he had finished.
“The old SkyClan leader appeared to me in dreams,” Firestar explained. “He sent me to rebuild the Clan, and I’m looking for cats who might want to join.”
Leaf looked startled, and for several heartbeats she didn’t reply, her gaze fixed on the shadows among the trees. “I don’t know…” she mewed eventually. “I like it here, and I’m fine on my own. Scratch, are you going to join?”
Scratch padded along to the end of the trunk so he could look down at her. “I’m thinking about it. Cats living together could protect one another.”
Leaf nodded. “That’s true. Living alone is especially hard for old cats and kits. You remember Scree?” she asked Scratch.
“The old rogue who lived by the dead willow tree?”
“That’s right.” Sadness welled up in Leaf’s eyes. “I found him trying to fight off a fox. It turned tail when it saw me, but Scree was badly wounded. I stayed with him that night and tried to help him, but he died before morning.” She turned an intense gaze on Firestar. “That wouldn’t happen in a Clan, would it?”
“It might,” Firestar answered honestly. “But mostly Clan cats don’t have to fight alone, and if they’re wounded we have a medicine cat to look after them.”
Leaf gave her chest fur a couple of thoughtful licks.
“We’re having a meeting tomorrow night,” Firestar told her. “Why don’t you come and find out more?”
“All right,” she meowed. “I’ll come to the meeting. But I’m not promising anything else.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Firestar assured her.
He glanced back as Scratch led him farther into the wood.
He fiercely hoped that Leaf would decide to join SkyClan.
She already seemed to be aware of how a Clan could take care of its weaker members. Any Clan would be glad to have her.
Scratch led him along a narrow path that twisted among arching clumps of fern, the thick fronds blocking out the last of the daylight. Firestar picked up a strong cat scent before he saw anything; not long after, a bad-tempered hiss came out of the darkness.
Just ahead of Firestar, Scratch meowed, “Hi, Tangle.”
“This is my place,” a voice snapped. Peering over Scratch’s shoulder, Firestar made out a large tomcat with ragged tabby fur crouched among the roots of a tree. His fur was bristling and his amber eyes glared as if he were about to spring on them. “Go away!”
Stepping around Scratch, Firestar dipped his head in greeting. “My name’s Firestar. I’m holding a meeting for all the cats who—”
“I don’t like meetings,” Tangle rasped. “Don’t like other cats much. Now go away, unless you want a clawed pelt.”
Scratch touched Firestar on the shoulder. “He means it.
We’d better go.”
“Tomorrow night in the gorge, if you change your mind,” Firestar meowed quickly.
Tangle unsheathed his claws. Scratch butted Firestar in the side with one shoulder and muttered, “Move!” To Tangle he added, “We’re going. See you around some time.”
“Not if I see you first,” Tangle hissed, as Firestar and Scratch retreated into the ferns.
“He’s not very friendly, is he?” Firestar commented when they were out of earshot.
Scratch shrugged. “He never has been. I thought we’d better ask him, but I’m not surprised he wouldn’t listen.”
They came to a narrow stream reflecting the pale evening sky as it wound through clumps of grass and watermint.
Scratch leaped across and headed upstream until he came to a place where the bank overhung a narrow strip of pebbles.
Once again Firestar picked up a strong scent of cat.
Scratch halted. “Patch, are you there?” he meowed.
A black-and-white head poked out from under the overhang. “Scratch, is that you?”
His voice was cautious, but to Firestar’s relief he didn’t sound as unfriendly as Tangle.
“I’ve brought another cat to see you,” Scratch replied.
“We’ve come to tell you about the cats who used to live in the gorge.”
“Oh, them!” Patch came out of his den and stood on the strip of pebbles, looking up. “I know about them. I hope you haven’t brought that mad old rogue who’s always going on about them.”
“No, he brought me.” Firestar stepped forward and looked into Patch’s gleaming green eyes. “And Sky isn’t mad—far from it. He has kept alive the memory of the Clan for many seasons.” Yet again he explained what he was trying to do.
“SkyClan could be great again,” he finished. “We’re looking for strong cats to join, and Scratch thought you might be interested.”
“It does get a bit lonely here sometimes,” Patch admitted, flicking his tail tip. “I could come to your meeting, I suppose, and have a look at the other cats who might be joining.”
“Thank you,” Firestar meowed. “You’ll be welcome.”
When they had said good-bye to Patch they started back toward the river. By now it was almost completely dark; little starlight penetrated the thick canopy of leaves. Scratch checked the opening of a hollow oak tree, but it was empty, and the cat scent that clung around it was stale.