“Come,” ordered Bluestar, heading off the track. She pushed her way through the long grass between the path and the fence that led back into the cornfield. The three apprentices followed, but Tigerclaw hesitated.
“You trust the word of a loner?” he meowed.
Bluestar stopped and turned to face him. “Would you rather face those dogs?”
“They were tied up when we passed them earlier,” Tigerclaw pointed out.
“They may be untied now. We’re going this way,” meowed Bluestar. She ducked under the fence into the field. Firepaw slipped after her, followed by Graypaw, Ravenpaw, and finally Tigerclaw.
By now, the sun had lifted its head above the horizon. The hedgerows sparkled with dew, promising another warm day.
The cats padded along the edge of the ditch. Firepaw looked down into the deep gully, steep-sided and filled with nettles. Firepaw could smell prey-scent. There was something familiar about the bitter odor, but it was one he hadn’t smelled for a long time.
An earsplitting squeal made Firepaw whip around. Ravenpaw was struggling and clawing at the earth. Something had hold of his leg and was dragging him down into the ditch.
“Rats!” spat Tigerclaw. “Barley has sent us into a trap!”
Before they could react, all five cats were surrounded. Huge brown rats swarmed out of the ditch, squeaking shrilly. Firepaw could see their sharp front teeth glinting in the early dawn light.
Suddenly one leaped onto Firepaw’s shoulder. Fiery pain shot through his shoulder as the rat sank its teeth into his flesh. Another grasped his leg between its powerful jaws.
Firepaw flung himself down and writhed madly, trying to shake free. He knew the rats were not as strong as he was, but there were so many of them. Yowls, hisses, and spits told him that the others were also being attacked.
Firepaw slashed fiercely with his claws, slicing out at a rat that held on to his leg. It let go, but another one gripped his tail. Fast as lightning, powered by fear and rage, Firepaw fought and hacked at his attackers. Twisting his head around, he sank his teeth into the rat that had embedded itself into his shoulders. He felt the bones of its neck crunch in his mouth and its body go limp, before it fell away onto the dirt track.
Firepaw gasped with pain as yet another rat leaped onto his back and sank its teeth in. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of white fur. For a moment he was confused; then he felt the rat being dragged off him. Firepaw spun around to see Barley flinging the rodent into the ditch.
Without hesitating, Barley glanced around and sprinted over to Bluestar. She was writhing on the path, covered in rats. In a flash Barley had the spine of one between his teeth and was plucking it off her with practiced ease. He spat it onto the ground and grabbed another in his mouth as Bluestar thrashed beneath him.
Firepaw rushed over to Graypaw, who was being attacked from both sides by two smaller rats. Firepaw lunged at the nearest one, giving it a bite that left it dead. Graypaw managed to turn and pin down the other with his claws. He grabbed it with his teeth and flung it into the ditch as hard as he could. It did not come back.
“They’re running away!” Tigerclaw yowled.
Sure enough, the remaining rats were fleeing down into the safety of the ditch. Firepaw could hear the scrabbling of small paws disappearing into the nettles. The bites in his shoulder and hind leg stung sharply. He licked carefully at his fur, wet and matted with blood, its sharp tang mingling with the stench of the rats.
Firepaw looked around for Ravenpaw. Graypaw was standing at the edge of the nettles, mewing encouragement as Ravenpaw pulled himself out of the ditch, muddy and stung. A young rat was still hanging on to his tail. Firepaw bounded over and finished it off quickly while Graypaw helped to pull Ravenpaw over the top of the ditch.
Now Firepaw looked for Bluestar. He saw Barley first, standing at the top of the ditch, scanning the depths for more rats. Bluestar was lying on the path nearby. Alarmed, Firepaw dashed to his leader’s side. The thick gray fur at the back of her neck was drenched with blood. “Bluestar?” he mewed.
Bluestar did not reply.
A furious yowl made Firepaw look up.
Tigerclaw leaped on top of Barley and pinned him to the ground. “You sent us into a trap!” he snarled.
“I didn’t know the rats were here!” spat Barley, his paws scrabbling in the dust as he struggled to stand up.
“Why did you send us this way?” hissed Tigerclaw.
“The dogs!”
“The dogs were tied when we passed them earlier!”
“The Twoleg unties them at night. They guard his nest,” Barley panted, wheezing under the weight of Tigerclaw’s massive paws.
“Tigerclaw! Bluestar is injured!” Firepaw burst out.
Tigerclaw released Barley at once. Barley got up and shook the dust from his coat. The great warrior bounded over to Bluestar’s side and sniffed her wounds.
“Is there anything we can do?” Firepaw asked.
“She is in the hands of StarClan now,” meowed Tigerclaw solemnly, stepping back.
Firepaw opened his eyes wide with shock. Did Tigerclaw mean that Bluestar was dead? His fur prickled as he looked down at his leader. Is this what the spirits at the Moonstone had warned her about?
Graypaw and Ravenpaw had joined them and stood beside their leader, horror-struck. Barley hung back, craning his neck to see what was happening.
Bluestar’s eyes were open but glazed, and her gray body lay motionless. She didn’t even appear to be breathing.
“Is she dead?” whispered Ravenpaw.
“I don’t know. We must wait and see,” replied Tigerclaw.
The five cats waited in silence as the sun began to climb into the sky. Firepaw found himself wordlessly begging StarClan to protect his leader, to send her back to them.
Then Bluestar stirred. The end of her tail twitched and she lifted her head.
“Bluestar?” mewed Firepaw, his voice trembling.
“It’s all right,” Bluestar rasped. “I am still here. I have lost a life, but it wasn’t my ninth.”
Joy flooded Firepaw. He looked at Tigerclaw, expecting to see relief on his face, but the dark warrior was expressionless.
“Right,” Tigerclaw meowed in a commanding tone. “Ravenpaw, fetch cobwebs for Bluestar’s wounds. Graypaw, find marigold or horsetail.” The two apprentices dashed away. “Barley, I think you should leave us now.”
Firepaw looked over to the loner who had fought so bravely to help them. He wanted to thank him, but under Tigerclaw’s fierce gaze, he didn’t dare. Instead of speaking, Firepaw gave Barley a tiny nod. Barley seemed to understand, for he nodded in return and left without another word.
Bluestar was still lying on the dirt track. “Is everyone all right?” she asked hoarsely.
Tigerclaw nodded.
Ravenpaw came charging back, his left forepaw wrapped in a thick wad of cobwebs. “Here,” he mewed.
“Shall I put them on her wounds?” Firepaw asked Tigerclaw. “Yellowfang showed me how.”
“Very well,” agreed Tigerclaw. He walked away and scanned the ditch again, his ears pricked for more rats.
Firepaw peeled a clump of cobwebs from Ravenpaw’s paw and began to press them firmly onto Bluestar’s wounds.
She winced under his touch. “If it had not been for Tigerclaw, those rats would have eaten me alive,” she murmured, her voice tight with pain.
“It wasn’t Tigerclaw who saved you. It was Barley,” Firepaw whispered as he took some more cobwebs from Ravenpaw.
“Barley?” Bluestar sounded surprised. “Is he here?”
“Tigerclaw sent him away,” Firepaw answered quietly. “He thinks Barley sent us into a trap.”
“And what do you think?” Bluestar rasped.
Firepaw didn’t look up, but concentrated on pressing the last bit of cobweb into place. “Barley is a loner. What would he gain by sending us into a trap only to rescue us from it?” he mewed eventually.