A glimpse of tawny mottled fur in the distance made Fireheart duck down again. That wasn’t Graystripe, or either of Bluestar’s offspring. A vaguely familiar scent confirmed to Fireheart the identity of the warrior. It was Leopardfur, the RiverClan deputy.
Fireheart glanced at Bluestar; she still had her head up, peering through the trees. The rustling of ferns warned Fireheart that Leopardfur was getting nearer. He felt his breath quicken. What would happen if she saw the ThunderClan leader so close to the RiverClan border?
Fireheart froze as the rustling in the bushes grew louder. He heard the RiverClan deputy stop, and her silence told him she had detected something. Staring desperately at Bluestar he was about to signal to her with his tail when she dropped her head and hissed in his ear, “Come on; we’d better head deeper into our own territory.”
Fireheart sighed with relief as the ThunderClan leader crept silently away. Keeping his ears flat and his belly to the ground, Fireheart followed her away from the scent markers and into the safety of ThunderClan’s woods.
“That Leopardfur moves so loudly, I should think even ShadowClan heard her coming,” remarked Bluestar once they were away from the border. Fireheart’s whiskers quivered with surprise. He had begun to wonder if Bluestar had forgotten how fiercely the Clans defended their boundaries, especially in these difficult times.
“She’s a good warrior, but too easily distracted,” Bluestar went on calmly. “She was more interested in that rabbit upwind than looking for enemy warriors.”
Fireheart couldn’t help feeling cheered by his leader’s confidence. Now that he thought about it, there had been the scent of rabbit on the breeze, but he’d been too worried about Leopardfur to take any notice of it.
“This reminds me of the days I used to take you for training,” purred Bluestar as she padded through the sun-dappled woods.
Fireheart ran to catch up with her. “Me too,” he replied.
“You were a fast learner. I chose well when I invited you into my Clan,” Bluestar murmured. She looked back over her shoulder at Fireheart, and he saw pride in her eyes. He blinked gratefully at her.
“All the Clans have much to thank you for,” Bluestar continued. “You drove Brokentail out of ShadowClan, brought WindClan home from exile, helped RiverClan when they were flooded, and saved ThunderClan from Tigerclaw.” Fireheart began to feel a little overwhelmed by her praise as she went on: “No other warrior has your sense of fairness or loyalty or courage…”
Fireheart’s fur pricked uneasily. “But all the ThunderClan cats respect the warrior code as I do,” he pointed out. “Every one of them would sacrifice themselves to protect you and the Clan.”
Bluestar stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Fireheart. “You are the only cat who dared oppose Tigerclaw,” she reminded him.
“But I was the only one who knew that he killed Redtail!” Fireheart had still been an apprentice when he had found out that the ThunderClan warrior had been responsible for the death of Bluestar’s loyal deputy. But he had been unable to prove Tigerclaw’s murderous secret until the traitor had led the rogue cats against his own Clan.
A fiery resentment flashed in Bluestar’s eyes. “Graystripe knew too. It was only you who saved me!”
Fireheart looked away, lost for words. His ears twitched uncomfortably. It looked as if Bluestar didn’t trust any of her warriors except him and maybe Whitestorm. Fireheart realized that Tigerclaw had done more damage than any of the Clan could possibly imagine. The dark warrior had poisoned their leader’s judgment and drained away all her confidence in her warriors.
“Come on!” snapped Bluestar.
Fireheart watched the gray she-cat stalk away through the forest, her shoulders stiff and her tail fluffed up. He shivered. Although the sky was still bright overhead, he felt as if a black cloud had blotted out the sun and cast an ominous shadow over their journey.
They reached Fourtrees as the sun broke through the leaves at the top of the trees. Fireheart followed Bluestar down the slope into the valley, where the four great oaks stood, guarding the place where the Clans met each full moon under a single night’s truce. The two cats passed the Great Rock where the leaders of each Clan stood to address the Gathering, and headed up the far side of the valley.
As the grassy hill turned steeper and rockier, Fireheart noticed that Bluestar was struggling to keep up the pace. She grunted each time she jumped onto the next rock, and Fireheart had to slow down so that he didn’t pass her.
At the top of the slope, Bluestar stopped and sat down, wheezing.
“Are you okay?” Fireheart asked.
“Not so young…” panted Bluestar.
Fireheart felt a pang of worry. He had assumed that her physical injuries from the battle had healed. Where had this sudden weakness come from? It made her seem older and more vulnerable than ever. Perhaps it’s just climbing in this heat, he thought hopefully. After all, her pelt is thicker than mine.
While Bluestar caught her breath, Fireheart peered nervously across the stunted gorse and heather that covered the uplands. This was WindClan territory, stretching away from them under the cloudless sky. He felt even uneasier here than on the RiverClan border. WindClan was still angry with ThunderClan because they had given sanctuary to the former ShadowClan leader, and it was Bluestar herself who had decided to take in the blinded Brokentail. What would a WindClan patrol do if they found the ThunderClan leader on their territory, with only one warrior to guard her? Fireheart wasn’t sure if he could protect his leader against a whole patrol.
“We must be careful not to be spotted,” he whispered.
“What did you say?” called Bluestar. The breeze was stronger up here, and even though it did nothing to ease the sun’s burning heat, it carried Fireheart’s words away.
“We must be careful they don’t see us!” Fireheart reluctantly raised his voice.
“Why?” Bluestar demanded. “We’re traveling to the Moonstone. StarClan has granted us the right to travel safely!”
Fireheart realized it would be a waste of time to argue. “I’ll lead the way,” he offered.
He knew the uplands well, better than most ThunderClan cats. He’d been here many times before, but he’d never felt as exposed and vulnerable as he did now. Quickly he led Bluestar into the sea of heather, praying that StarClan had as much belief in their right to travel here as Bluestar did, and that their warrior ancestors would protect them from any passing WindClan patrols. He also hoped that Bluestar had enough sense to keep her ears and tail low.
The sun was reaching its highest point as they neared the swathe of gorse at the heart of WindClan’s territory. Fourtrees was far behind them, but there was still a long way to go before they reached the slope at the edge of the moor that ran down into Twoleg farmland. Fireheart paused. A hot breeze was blowing toward him, as stifling as the breath of a sick cat, and he knew their scent would be carried back through WindClan territory. He just hoped the perfume of the honey-rich heather would mask it. Beside him, Bluestar signaled with a flick of her tail and vanished into the gorse.
An angry yowl sounded from behind them. Fireheart spun around and backed away, wincing as the gorse pricked his haunches. Three WindClan cats faced him, their fur bristling and their ears flattened.
“Intruders. Why are you here?” hissed a mottled dark brown tabby. Fireheart recognized Mudclaw, one of the senior warriors. A gray tabby warrior called Tornear was beside him, his back arched and his claws unsheathed. Fireheart had grown to know and respect these cats when he had escorted WindClan back from their exile in Twoleg territory, but all traces of their former alliance had vanished now. He didn’t recognize the smallest cat—an apprentice, perhaps, but every bit as fierce-looking and wiry as his Clanmates.