Cloudkit bowed his head again and scampered off across the clearing, his tail held high. Fireheart suspected he quite enjoyed looking after the elders, and that his punishment wasn’t as bad as it might have been. He couldn’t help worrying that Cloudkit still hadn’t learned his lesson about respecting the ways of the Clan.
Bluestar settled down on the ground with her paws tucked under her. “Tell me what happened,” she invited the warriors.
Taking a deep breath, Fireheart explained how he and Graystripe had rescued the RiverClan kits, and been taken to the camp by RiverClan warriors.
“Except we couldn’t go into their camp,” he meowed. “It’s underwater. They’re staying in the bushes on higher ground for now.”
“I see…” murmured Bluestar.
“They haven’t much shelter,” Fireheart went on. “And they’re finding it hard to catch prey. They told us that the Twolegs have poisoned the river. Cats get ill if they eat the fish.”
As he spoke he caught a worried look from Graystripe, as if his friend thought it was dangerous to reveal so many of RiverClan’s weaknesses. Some cats, Fireheart knew, would see this as a good chance to attack RiverClan. But he believed Bluestar was not like that. She would never try to take advantage of another cat’s troubles, especially not in leaf-bare.
“So we felt we had to do something,” he finished. “We…we offered to catch prey for RiverClan in our territory, and we’ve been taking fresh-kill across the river to them. Today Tigerclaw saw us coming back.”
“We’re not traitors,” Graystripe put in. “We only wanted to help.”
Bluestar turned to him, then back to Fireheart again. She looked stern, but there was a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. “I understand,” she murmured. “I even respect your good intentions. All cats have the right to survive, whatever their Clan. But you know perfectly well that you can’t take matters into your own paws like that. You acted deceitfully in slipping away on your own. You lied to Tigerclaw—or at least you didn’t tell him all the truth,” she added, before Fireheart could protest. “And you hunted for another Clan before your own. This is not how warriors behave.”
Fireheart swallowed uncomfortably and looked sideways at Graystripe. His friend’s head was bowed and he was staring at his paws in shame.
“We know all that,” Fireheart admitted. “We’re sorry.”
“Feeling sorry isn’t always enough,” Bluestar meowed, with an edge to her voice. “You will have to be punished. And since you haven’t acted like warriors, we’ll see if you can remember what it’s like to be apprentices. From now on, you can hunt for the elders and see to their needs. And when you hunt, you’ll have another warrior to supervise you.”
“What?” Fireheart couldn’t help the word escaping in a mew of outrage.
“You have broken the warrior code,” Bluestar reminded him. “Since you can’t be trusted, you’ll go with someone who can. There must be no more visits to RiverClan.”
“But…we won’t be apprentices again, will we?” Graystripe meowed anxiously.
“No.” Bluestar allowed a gleam of amusement to soften her eyes. “You are still warriors. A leaf cannot return to the bud. But you will live as apprentices until I think you have learned your lesson.”
Fireheart forced himself to breathe evenly. He was so proud to be a warrior of ThunderClan, and shame overwhelmed him at the thought of losing his warrior’s privileges. But he knew there was no use arguing with Bluestar, and deep inside he admitted the punishment was fair. He bowed his head respectfully. “Very well, Bluestar.”
“And we really are sorry,” Graystripe added.
“I know.” Bluestar nodded to him. “You may go, Graystripe. Fireheart, stay a moment.”
Surprised, Fireheart waited a little nervously to find out what Bluestar wanted.
The Clan leader waited until Graystripe was out of earshot. Then she asked, “Tell me, Fireheart, have any RiverClan cats died in the floods?” She sounded distracted, and for once she didn’t meet Fireheart’s eyes. “Any warriors?”
“Not that I know of,” Fireheart admitted. “Crookedstar didn’t say that any cat had drowned.”
Bluestar frowned, but she didn’t ask any more. She gave a tiny nod, as if to herself. Then, after a brief hesitation, she dismissed Fireheart. “Find Graystripe and tell him you may both eat,” she ordered, her voice expressionless and firm again. “And send Tigerclaw to me.”
Fireheart bowed his head and stood up to leave. On his way across the clearing, he glanced back at Bluestar. The gray she-cat was still crouched at the foot of the rock, her eyes staring into the far distance. He couldn’t help feeling puzzled by his leader’s urgent questions.
Why should she be so worried about RiverClan warriors? he wondered.
Chapter 15
“Well, if it isn’t our newest apprentice, Firepaw!”
Fireheart looked up from his vole to see Longtail swaggering toward him, his tail waving in the air. “Ready for a training session?” the warrior sneered. “Tigerclaw sent me to be your mentor.”
Taking his time, Fireheart swallowed the last of the vole and rose to his paws. He could guess what had happened. Bluestar had told Tigerclaw about the punishment, and Tigerclaw had wasted no time in organizing the first patrol. Naturally he would choose the cat who disliked Fireheart the most to supervise his hunting.
Beside him, Graystripe jumped up and took a pace toward Longtail. “Watch what you say,” he snarled. “We’re not apprentices!”
“That’s not the way I heard it,” replied Longtail, swiping his tongue appreciatively over his jaws as if he had just swallowed a tasty morsel.
“Then we’d better put you right,” Fireheart hissed, beginning to lash his tail. “Do you want me to tear your other ear?”
Longtail took a step back. He was clearly remembering Fireheart’s arrival in the camp. He had fought Longtail fiercely, showing no fear in spite of the warrior’s “kittypet” taunts. Fireheart knew that even if the other cats let Longtail forget his defeat, his torn ear would remind him forever.
“You’d better watch it,” the warrior blustered. “Tigerclaw’ll have your tails off if you touch me.”
“It would be worth it,” Fireheart retorted. “Call me Firepaw once more, and you’ll find out.”
Longtail said nothing, only turning his head aside to lick his pale fur. Fireheart relaxed his threatening stance. “Come on, then,” he grunted. “If we’re going to hunt, let’s get on with it.”
He and Graystripe led the way out of the gorse tunnel and up the side of the ravine. Longtail followed, loudly suggesting where to hunt as if he were in charge, but once they were in the forest Fireheart and Graystripe did their best to ignore him.
The day was cold and gray, and a thin rain had begun to fall. Prey was hard to find. Graystripe caught sight of movement in some bracken fronds and went to investigate, but Fireheart was almost ready to give up by the time he saw a chaffinch pecking around the roots of a hazel bush. He dropped into a crouch, creeping forward paw by paw while the bird pecked on unawares.
He was preparing to pounce, his haunches rocking from side to side, when Longtail jeered, “Call that a crouch? I’ve seen better on a three-legged rabbit!” As soon as he spoke the chaffinch fluttered away in a panic, letting out a loud alarm call.
Fireheart whirled around furiously. “That was your fault!” he snarled. “As soon as it heard you—”
“Rubbish,” meowed Longtail. “Don’t make excuses. You couldn’t catch a mouse if it sat between your paws.”
Fireheart flattened his ears and bared his teeth, but as he braced himself for a fight, he suddenly wondered if Longtail was deliberately provoking him. Longtail would have a fine story to tell Tigerclaw if Fireheart attacked him.