“I know,” Firestar reassured him. “Twolegs aren’t our enemies, even if they don’t understand the warrior’s way of life.
Now and then I miss my old Twolegs.”
“You do?” Sparrowpaw’s eyes widened.
Firestar nodded. “They were good to me. But I was born for the life of a warrior.”
Sparrowpaw straightened up; pride replaced the sadness in his eyes. “So was I.”
“My Twolegs have a new cat now,” Firestar went on. “Her name’s Hattie. She seems nice—much better suited to living with housefolk than I was.”
For a heartbeat Sparrowpaw looked alarmed at the thought of another cat taking his place. Then he gave his chest fur a couple of quick licks. “I hope my housefolk get another cat, too,” he mewed bravely. “Then they wouldn’t be sad anymore about losing me and Cherrypaw.”
Firestar rested the tip of his tail on the young cat’s shoulder. “Come on. We have a cat to find.”
He felt his bristling pelt relax a little as he and Sparrowpaw slipped down the first alley that led into the heart of the Twolegplace. Twolegs and dogs he had dealt with before, and here among the Twoleg nests they were less likely to encounter the clever, coldhearted rats.
Sparrowpaw, however, looked much less at ease than he had when he and Firestar had last visited the Twolegplace.
His pelt fluffed up at the distant barking of a dog, and when they emerged from the alley onto the edge of a small Thunderpath, he leaped into the air as a glittering monster snarled past. “I guess I’ve forgotten what it’s like around here,” he mewed, giving his shoulder an embarrassed lick.
After carefully checking that no more monsters were around, Firestar led the way down another alley, to be met at once by a powerful scent of cat.
“Well, look who’s here,” a voice drawled.
Sparrowpaw jumped, his pelt bristling again. Firestar looked up to see the black kittypet, Oscar, stretched out on the top of the wall. His jaws gaped in a yawn, showing sharp teeth.
“If it isn’t the mad rogue,” he sneered, with a dismissive twitch of his whiskers at Firestar. “And little Boris! Actually, I’ve been expecting you,” he added. “But I thought you’d come a bit sooner than this.”
Firestar froze. Surely Oscar couldn’t be the medicine cat Skywatcher had told him of?
The black tomcat leaped lightly down from the wall and confronted them. “Crawling back to your housefolk, are you, now the weather’s turning cold?”
“No, I am not!” Sparrowpaw glared at the black tom. “I’m going to be a warrior. And don’t call me Boris. I’m Sparrowpaw now.”
Oscar let out a snort of amusement. “Sparrowpaw! What sort of name is that?”
“It’s my name.” Sparrowpaw slid his claws out. “Do you want to make something of it?”
Hastily Firestar thrust himself between the two bristling toms. “We’re not here to fight,” he meowed, though privately he would have liked to see the battle-trained SkyClan apprentice show Oscar just how much he had learned in the past moon. “We’re looking for a special cat,” he went on to Oscar. “One who has weird dreams. Have you heard about a cat like that?”
Please, Skywatcher, he added silently, don’t let Oscar tell me that he dreams about you!
Oscar’s green eyes widened, gleaming with contempt.
“No,” he replied. “And I haven’t heard about any cats who fly, either.”
“You think you know everything, you—” Sparrowpaw began hotly.
“I think you are looking for me,” another voice interrupted him from behind, clear and young. “My name is Echo.
I dream of cats with stars in their fur.”
Chapter 30
A shiver ran through Firestar from ears to tail tip. A couple of heartbeats passed before he could force his paws to move and let him turn to face the newcomer. He saw a silver-gray tabby she-cat with deep green eyes, small and gracefully built, with tiny dark gray paws. To Firestar she looked almost fragile, and he wondered if she was suited for the tough life of a Clan.
“Greetings,” he meowed. “Have you dreamed of… of a gray-and-white cat?”
“Yes, many times. And other cats, too. A new one just came to join them—a big cat with frosty gray fur.” She blinked at Firestar with growing excitement. “Can you tell me who the starry cats are?”
“Yes,” Firestar replied. “They are the spirits of your warrior ancestors.”
“Spirits!” Oscar sneered. “I hope you’re not listening to this rubbish?” he hissed to Echo.
To Firestar’s relief, Echo ignored him. “Do you know why they come to me?” she asked Firestar.
“Have you heard of the Clan of cats who have settled in the gorge?” Echo shook her head. “The gray-and-white cat came to me and asked for my help,” Firestar explained. “Many seasons ago, he was leader of SkyClan, but his cats are long gone now. Skywatcher—the new gray cat you saw—challenged me to rebuild the Clan. But they can’t be a real Clan until they find a medicine cat,” he went on, taking a deep breath. “And you—”
“Last night the gray cat spoke to me in a dream,” Echo interrupted, her eyes shining. “He told me to come here today and look for two strange cats. Yes, I will join you.”
“What?” Oscar broke in before Firestar could respond.
“Go off with these two crazy furballs? You must be as mad as they are.”
“Maybe I am,” Echo replied calmly. “But no other cat has ever been able to explain my dreams to me. I will come.”
“What about your Twolegs?” Sparrowpaw asked.
A hint of sadness appeared in Echo’s green eyes. “These last few moons I’ve felt so restless that I’ve been roaming farther and farther from my housefolk’s nest. I felt that if only I knew how to listen, the stars would give me an answer. Now that I’m leaving for good, my housefolk will just assume that I’ve found a new nest to stay in. They’ll miss me, but they won’t be afraid for me.”
“Then let’s go,” meowed Firestar.
“Hang on.” Oscar shouldered past him to face Echo. “You’re not really going, are you? Just because of a few dreams?”
“This is not for you to understand,” Echo murmured gently. She turned back to Firestar, who caught a hint of nervousness in her eyes.
“You’re taking a big step,” he pointed out, feeling that he had to give her a chance to change her mind.
“I know. But I’m sure this is what I’m meant to do.”
Firestar nodded. If she was willing to trust her dreams, then that was enough for him. “Let’s go,” he mewed.
Oscar stood staring after them, dumbfounded, as they slipped back along the alley and out of the Twolegplace.
“What’s it like, living in a Clan?” Echo asked as they made their way back to the gorge.
“You have to be an apprentice first,” Sparrowpaw told her.
“You learn hunting and fighting and stuff like that. And—”
“Hang on,” Firestar interrupted. “Echo might… well, she might play a different role, one that involves healing herbs—and more dreams of starry cats.”
“How will I learn to do all that?” she asked, her eyes wide.
They were sheltering under the gorse bush where Firestar and Sparrowpaw had paused on the way out. Sparrowpaw padded a tail-length away to check for any signs of marauding rats.
“I don’t know,” Firestar admitted. “My mate, Sandstorm, can teach you some of the stuff about herbs. As for the rest—if SkyClan’s warrior ancestors really mean for you to join us, they’ll show you the way.”