“Get a move on!” Sharpclaw hissed.
Firestar slipped through the gap; the ginger warrior followed, and the whole patrol pelted through the woods with the yowls of the Twoleg dying away behind them. They didn’t stop until they had crossed the SkyClan scent markers near the top of the cliff.
For a few heartbeats, all the cats could do was catch their breath. Petal was leaning heavily on Rainfur’s shoulder, but she staggered toward her kits as soon as Firestar and Leafdapple set them down.
“What if my Twoleg comes after us?” she mewed anxiously.
“What if he tries to steal my kits back?”
“We’ll stop him,” Rainfur promised, pressing his muzzle into her shoulder.
We? Firestar thought, though he said nothing. Was Rainfur beginning to appreciate the support that he could expect from a Clan?
Petal sank down beside her kits and covered them with comforting licks. The kits burrowed into her pale belly fur, still mewing in distress as they tried to suckle.
“I haven’t enough milk for them.” Petal’s eyes were filled with grief as she gazed up at Firestar. “They’re going to die.”
“No, they’re not,” Firestar assured her. “We’ll take them back to our camp and look after them there.” Clovertail still had milk, and she wouldn’t refuse to help these pitiful scraps.
Hope glimmered in the gray she-cat’s eyes. “Will you really? Oh, thank you!”
Leafdapple brushed gently against her pelt. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”
When they reached the camp, Sandstorm and the others were just returning from their training session. Cherrypaw and Sparrowpaw bounded up eagerly to see the kits, with Clovertail’s kits hard on their paws.
“You did it!” Cherrypaw exclaimed. “I wish we’d been there to help.”
“It wasn’t hard.” Sharpclaw twitched his whiskers in satisfaction. “You should have seen that stupid Twoleg blundering about.”
Sandstorm approached the kits and gave each of them a gentle sniff. Her tail lashed furiously. “Why did the Twoleg want kittypets if he treated them like this?”
“It wasn’t so bad before the kits came,” Petal mewed. “I could get out of the nest to catch mice. But once they were born the Twoleg blocked the window…”
“You don’t have to explain.” Clovertail thrust forward and touched noses with Petal. “Bring them up to the nursery and I’ll feed them.” She turned to her own kits and gave them a hard stare. “You three stay down here, and let these kits sleep in peace for a bit. And don’t get into mischief.”
“What, us?” Rockkit stretched his eyes wide.
“Don’t worry,” Cherrypaw assured their mother. “Sparrowpaw and I will keep an eye on them. Come on, you lot.”
She waved her tail to beckon the kits. “We’ll teach you the hunter’s crouch.”
Their eyes sparkling with delight, Clovertail’s three kits marched off after the apprentice, back up the gorge toward the training area.
“We’re not the littlest anymore!” Tinykit mewed gleefully.
When they had gone, Clovertail led the way up to the nursery and settled down in her mossy nest. The cave was dim and cool, the boulder at the entrance blocking off most of the direct sunlight.
Firestar and Leafdapple laid the two kits next to Clovertail’s belly; within a heartbeat they were both suckling eagerly, pressed against her soft fur.
Petal gazed at them as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “I can’t thank you enough,” she whispered. She staggered as if her legs wouldn’t hold her up any longer, and Leafdapple helped her to lie down in the soft moss next to Clovertail and her kits.
“They’re beautiful kits,” Clovertail murmured. “What are their names?”
“That’s Mint,” Petal replied, pointing with her ears at the gray kit. “And that one is Sage,” she added, indicating the pale gray tabby. “I used to look through the window at the herbs in the Twoleg garden.”
Mintkit and Sagekit, Firestar thought, wondering if Petal would want her kits to grow up in the Clan.
“I’ll fetch you some fresh-kill,” Leafdapple promised, and slipped out past the boulder at the entrance.
Firestar said good-bye to the two she-cats and followed Leafdapple out. Sandstorm was waiting for him a few pawsteps down the stony trail.
“Petal will need something to help her regain her strength,” she murmured when Firestar joined her. “She looks so weak and ill.”
“Do you know what to do for her?” Firestar asked.
“Juniper berries for strength, Cinderpelt said,” the ginger she-cat replied. “But I don’t know where to find them.” Her tail tip twitched. “They need a medicine cat, don’t they?”
Firestar shook his head. “It’s not for us to decide,” he meowed. “Medicine cats are chosen by StarClan. And I haven’t had any signs at all.”
“Well, I wish StarClan would get a move on,” Sandstorm responded tartly. “Meanwhile, I’ll do what I can for Petal. I’ll ask Sharpclaw if he knows where juniper grows.” She padded off to join the ginger rogue, who was crouched beside the fresh-kill pile.
Firestar spotted Rainfur a few fox-lengths farther up the cliff, outside the warriors’ den. When Firestar climbed up to join him, he sprang to his paws. “Will they be okay?”
“They’ll be fine,” Firestar meowed, hoping that was true.
“Why don’t you go and see?”
“I will, if no cat minds.” Rainfur gave his chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks.
Firestar guessed he felt awkward about entering the SkyClan dens. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” he mewed.
Rainfur met his gaze steadily. “Thanks, Firestar. I—”
“We would have done the same for any cat.”
“I wanted to say I’m sorry about what I said at the meeting,” Rainfur meowed. “And I’d like to stay with you, for a while at least. Petal’s not strong enough to go anywhere yet, and the kits need Clovertail to feed them. But only if that’s okay,” he added.
“Of course. We’ll be glad to have you.”
Even while he welcomed Rainfur to the gorge, Firestar felt uneasy. The gray rogue were treating him as if he was SkyClan’s leader. He wasn’t, and he didn’t want to be. The sooner he could find a real leader, the better. Sharpclaw seemed the obvious choice: he was strong and brave, and his fighting skills were better than any other cat’s. But he had looked too interested at the meeting when Firestar explained that a Clan leader received nine lives. That was the wrong reason to look for Clan leadership, because it could make a cat foolhardy about leaping into danger—those lives were easily lost if not treated with respect.
This isn’t your choice, he reminded himself. A true Clan leader should be approved by StarClan. He looked up to where the sky was flooded with scarlet from the setting sun. It was still too early for the stars to show.
Do you walk these skies? he silently asked SkyClan’s warrior ancestors. If you’re there, please show me which is the right cat to lead this Clan.
Chapter 28
Cherrypaw crouched at the edge of the training area, her tail lashing from side to side and her eyes gleaming. Her tortoiseshell fur bristled as she sprang forward, her claws lashing at her mentor’s shoulders. Sharpclaw dodged to one side, trying to hook the young she-cat’s paws from under her; she barreled into him, and both cats wrestled together in the sand.
“Well done!” Firestar meowed. “Cherrypaw, you’ve learned that move really well.”
Both cats sat up, panting and shaking sand out of their pelts. Cherrypaw cast a triumphant glance at her mentor. “I’ll beat you one day,” she told him.