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Graystripe shrugged. “Dunno. We’ve seen nothing of ShadowClan since the floods started. Who knows what they’re up to?”

“We’ll even give you an escort,” Nightstar went on, narrowing his eyes. “Just to make sure you get to Fourtrees safely. We wouldn’t want ThunderClan to be scared off by an angry mouse, would we?”

A murmur of agreement rose from the ShadowClan warriors. They shifted so that they surrounded the ThunderClan cats on all sides. With a faint nod, Nightstar set off beside Bluestar. The other cats followed, the ShadowClan patrol matching ThunderClan step for step.

ThunderClan headed for the Gathering completely encircled by their enemies.

The moon was at its height as Fireheart and the other ThunderClan cats were herded into the hollow beneath the four oak trees. A fierce, cold light poured down over the members of RiverClan and WindClan who were already assembled. All of them turned to stare curiously at the group descending the slope. Fireheart knew that he and the rest of his Clan must look like prisoners. He stalked along proudly, head and tail held high, defying any cat to say that they had been beaten.

To his relief, the ShadowClan cats slipped away into the shadows as soon as they reached the hollow. Bluestar headed straight for the Great Rock with Tigerclaw at her side. Fireheart looked around for Graystripe, and found that his friend had already disappeared; a moment later he caught sight of him approaching Silverstream, but the silver tabby was surrounded by other RiverClan cats, and Graystripe could only hover nearby, looking frustrated.

Fireheart suppressed a sigh. He knew how much Graystripe must be longing to see Silverstream again, especially now she was expecting kits, but there was a huge risk in meeting at a Gathering, where any cat could catch them together.

“What’s up with you?” Mousefur made him jump. “You look as if you’ve got something on your mind.”

Fireheart stared at the brown warrior. “I…I was thinking about what Nightstar said,” he improvised rapidly. “Why did he say he wants ThunderClan cats here?”

“Well, I’m sure of one thing. He’s not being kind and helpful,” Sandstorm mewed, coming up with Willowpelt beside her. She licked one paw and drew it over her ear. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

“Trouble’s coming,” Willowpelt meowed over one shoulder as she went to join a group of WindClan queens. “I can feel it in my paws.”

Uneasier than ever, Fireheart padded back and forth under the trees, listening with one ear to the cats around him. Most of them were sharing harmless gossip, catching up on news from other Clans, and he heard nothing about what ShadowClan were planning. He noticed, though, that all the ShadowClan cats he passed glared at him, still fiercely hostile. And he caught one or two of them glancing up at the Great Rock as if they were impatient for the meeting to start.

At last a yowling sounded from the top of the rock, and the murmuring from the cats below died away. Fireheart found a place at the edge of the hollow where he had a good view of the four Clan leaders, their silhouettes black against the sky.

Sandstorm settled herself beside him, crouching with her paws tucked under her chest. “Now for it,” she whispered expectantly.

Nightstar stepped forward, stiff-legged with barely suppressed fury. “Cats of all Clans, listen to me!” he demanded. “Listen, and remember. Until last greenleaf, Brokenstar was leader of ShadowClan. He was—”

Tallstar, the leader of WindClan, stepped forward to stand beside Nightstar. “Why do you speak that hated name?” he growled. His eyes flashed, and Fireheart knew he was remembering how Brokenstar and his warriors had driven WindClan out of their territory.

“Hated, yes,” Nightstar agreed. “And with good reason, which you know as well as any cat, Tallstar. He stole kits from ThunderClan. He forced kits from his own Clan into battle too early, and they died. In the end he was so bloodthirsty that we—his own Clan—drove him out. And where is he now?” Nightstar’s voice rose to a shriek. “Was he left to die in the forest, or scavenge a living among the Twolegs? No! Because there are cats here tonight who have taken him in. They are traitors to the warrior code, and to every other cat in the forest!”

Fireheart exchanged an uneasy glance with Sandstorm. He could see what was coming, and by the troubled look she gave him in return, so could she.

“ThunderClan!” Nightstar yowled. “ThunderClan are sheltering Brokenstar!”

Chapter 19

Shocked and angry caterwauls rose up from the cats surrounding the Great Rock. Every muscle in Fireheart’s body urged him to creep backward into the bushes and hide from their fury. It took all his strength to stay where he was. Sandstorm pressed against his side, as shaken as he was, and he found her warmth comforting.

On top of the Great Rock, Tallstar whipped around to face Bluestar. “Is this true?” he snarled.

Bluestar did not reply to him at once. With great dignity, she stepped forward and faced Nightstar. The moonlight glowed on her fur, turning it to silver, so that Fireheart could almost believe that a warrior of StarClan had leaped down from Silverpelt to join them. She waited until the noise from below had died down. “How do you know this?” she coolly asked Nightstar when she could make herself heard. “Have you been spying on our camp?”

“Spying!” Nightstar spat the word out. “There’s no need to spy when your apprentices gossip so freely. My warriors heard this at the last Gathering. Do you dare to stand here now and tell me they are wrong?”

As he spoke, Fireheart remembered seeing Swiftpaw with the ShadowClan apprentices at the end of the last Gathering. No wonder the young cat had looked guilty, if he had been telling his friends all about ThunderClan’s prisoner, so soon after Bluestar had ordered all her Clan to keep quiet!

Bluestar hesitated. Fireheart felt a pang of sympathy for her. Many of her own Clan had been unhappy with her decision to shelter blind Brokentail. How was she going to defend herself in front of the other Clans?

Tallstar crouched in front of her, his ears flattened. “Is it true?” he repeated.

For a moment Bluestar did not speak. Then she lifted her head defiantly. “Yes, it’s true,” she meowed.

“Traitor!” spat Tallstar. “You know what Brokenstar did to us.”

Bluestar’s tail tip twitched; even from his place below the rock Fireheart could see the strain in every muscle of her body, and knew she was struggling to keep calm. “No cat dares to call me traitor!” she hissed.

“I dare,” retorted Tallstar. “You are nothing but a traitor to the warrior code, if you are willing to give shelter to that…that heap of foxdung!”

All around the clearing WindClan cats leaped to their paws, yowling in support of their leader. “Traitor! Traitor!”

At the foot of the Great Rock, Tigerclaw and Deadfoot, the WindClan deputy, faced each other with their hackles raised, lips drawn back to show their sharp teeth, their noses no more than a mouse-length apart.

Fireheart sprang up too, his fighting instinct sending energy to his paws. He caught a glimpse of Willowpelt snarling at the WindClan queens with whom she had been sharing tongues a few moments before. A couple of ShadowClan warriors paced threateningly toward Darkstripe, and Mousefur leaped to his side, ready to attack.

“Stop!” Bluestar yowled from her place on the Great Rock. “How can you break the truce like this? Would you risk the wrath of StarClan?”

As she spoke, the moonlight began to fade. Every cat in the clearing froze. Looking up, Fireheart saw a wisp of cloud passing over the face of the moon. He shivered. Was that a warning from StarClan, because the Clans seemed about to break the sacred truce? Clouds had covered the moon once before, a sign of StarClan’s anger that had brought the Gathering to an end.