“No,” his mother told him. “We don’t belong to SkyClan.”
“But that’s not fair!” Sage wailed. “Why don’t we?”
Petal gave her a gentle tap with her tail. “You’re too little to understand.”
“Is that why they don’t have ‘kit’ in their names, like us?”
Rockkit asked.
Firestar nodded. “If Rainfur and Petal decide to join the Clan, then Mint and Sage will have new names.”
Mint’s ears pricked up. “You’ve got to stay,” he mewed to his mother. “Please!”
Petal shook her head. “It’s not as easy as that.”
They arrived at the training area, where Sandstorm and Sparrowpaw were already sparring. Firestar was impressed by the tabby tom’s speed, flashing past Sandstorm to strike a blow on her shoulder before she had time to dodge.
“Now you, Echosong,” Sandstorm meowed. “You’ve watched Sparrowpaw do that move enough times—see if you can copy him.”
The young cat stepped forward, but before she could face Sandstorm they were interrupted by a loud wail of fright from Sage. Firestar’s head whipped around. The tiny kit had climbed up onto a rock and was teetering at the very top.
Before any cat could reach her she lost her balance and rolled to the bottom in a flurry of legs and tail.
Petal bounded over to her. She sat up, holding out one paw.
“It hurts,” she whimpered.
Instantly Echosong was beside her, sniffing at the injured paw. “You’ve snagged a claw,” she murmured, giving it a few gentle licks. “I know how painful that can be, but it’ll be okay soon.”
As she went on licking, Sage’s whimpering died away.
“You’re making it feel better,” she mewed.
“You’re very brave,” Echosong told the tiny kit. “Just like a warrior. Try standing on your paw now.”
Sage got up and gingerly put her injured paw to the ground. “It feels fine. Thanks,” she added as she scampered off to join her littermate and the other kits. “I’m a warrior,” she boasted. “Echosong said so.”
Echosong looked after the kit, her eyes glimmering with amusement.
“Well done,” Firestar murmured in her ear.
The young cat turned to him. “A snagged claw is easy.” But Firestar could see that her eyes were glowing with new confidence.
As Patchfoot’s shoulder improved even more, Sandstorm agreed he could return to limited battle training.
“He’s trying hard, but he’s still slow,” she reported to Firestar. “And he gets tired easily.”
“He’s not ready to face the rats?” Firestar asked.
“Not yet,” Sandstorm replied.
Firestar began to wonder whether they should attack without Patchfoot. He could stay behind with Echosong and one of the nursing queens to defend the camp. Tension among the other cats was building. Sharpclaw and Rainfur, normally the best of friends, almost came to blows over a piece of fresh-kill, while Shortwhisker looked perpetually on edge, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected to see a rat sneaking up on him. Even the kits were affected, boldly playing at rat attacks during the day, but scurrying back to the nursery at any unexpected noise.
But where are they? Firestar wondered. Although he tried to act normally around the cats, fear stalked him day and night.
They threatened to kill us. Why haven’t they come?
He knew the answer already, the same answer he had given Sparrowpaw on the day they traveled to the Twolegplace and found Echosong. The rats hoped to weaken the Clan by keeping them in suspense. They would attack when they were ready.
Firestar returned from the last hunting patrol of the day to find Echosong waiting for him beside the river where it flowed out from the rocks. The gorge lay in shadow, the last scarlet rays of sunset fading from the sky.
Depositing his fresh-kill on the pile, Firestar padded over to her.
“Firestar, I must talk to you,” she mewed. Her eyes were huge and troubled. She looked away to gaze at the smooth curve of water where it left the cave. “When we met in the Twolegplace,” she began, “I told you that I dreamed of starry cats.”
“Yes, that’s how I knew SkyClan’s warrior ancestors had sent you to be SkyClan’s medicine cat,” Firestar reminded her.
Echosong heaved a deep sigh. “But what if you were wrong?” Before Firestar had a chance to reply, she went on, her words forced out as if it hurt to say them aloud. “I haven’t dreamed of those cats since I came here. Not once.”
Firestar swallowed hard. “You dreamed of them before,” he assured her, trying not to let his alarm show in his voice.
“You will dream of them again. They know where to find you.”
“Then why have my dreams stopped?”
Firestar shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it would help if you went up to the Skyrock to sleep,” he suggested.
“That’s always been the place where SkyClan were closest to their warrior ancestors.”
Echosong’s eyes brightened, and her claws flexed in the ground. “I’ll sleep there tonight!” she exclaimed.
Firestar pressed his muzzle encouragingly against her shoulder. “I’ll come with you.”
Night had fallen when the two cats leaped the rift to land on the Skyrock. Silverpelt glittered frostily above, and the moon had waned to the thinnest claw scratch. Firestar fluffed his fur out against the probing wind. “Where’s the cat on watch?”
The whole flat expanse of the rock was empty, gleaming faintly in the starlight. Firestar’s paws tingled, and he drew in a long breath, tasting the air.
“Can you scent rats?” Echosong asked, her eyes wary.
“No. All I can scent is cat.” Firestar padded across to the tumbled boulders near the cliff face, and peered into the deepest shadows. When his eyes adjusted to the dark, he made out a curled-up tabby shape. Shortwhisker.
Firestar felt a growl rising in his throat. He prodded Shortwhisker with one paw. “Wake up.”
Shortwhisker stirred, his ears twitching. “Uh… wha…?”
Firestar prodded him again, harder. This time Shortwhisker sprang to his paws, his fur bristling. “Are the rats here?”
“No,” Firestar replied. “But no thanks to you. What do you think you’re doing, sleeping when you should be on watch?”
Shortwhisker gazed around wildly; it was obvious he had no idea where he was or what he was doing there. Then shocked realization flooded into his eyes, and he hung his head.
“I’m sorry, Firestar.”
“‘Sorry’ catches no prey,” Firestar snapped. “What if the rats had attacked? We could all have been killed.”
“I know. I’m really sorry.” Shortwhisker scrabbled on the rock with his forepaws. “I’m just so tired.”
“We’re all tired,” Firestar replied, though his anger was ebbing. Was he expecting too much of the SkyClan warriors, to prepare for the rat attack with every scrap of strength they had? “All right,” he went on with a sigh. “I have to be up here now, so you can go and catch up on your sleep in the warriors’ den. Who has the next watch?”
“Rainfur.”
“Okay, I’ll wake him when it’s time.”
Shortwhisker dipped his head and began pacing across the rock toward the cleft. Then he stopped and glanced back, his eyes filled with shame. “I really am sorry,” he repeated. “It won’t happen again.”
Firestar just nodded, and watched him walk off in silence, his head down and his tail dragging on the rock. He leaped the cleft and disappeared down the trail.
When he had gone, Echosong padded up to join Firestar; she looked thoughtful. “Are there herbs for strength?” she asked. “Or to help cats keep awake?”
“Strength… juniper berries, I think,” Firestar replied.