When all three cats were thoroughly covered with the scent of crowfood, Firestar headed into the reeds where he had seen Jaggedtooth disappear with the two apprentices. There was a narrow path along the frozen mud, as if cats regularly came and went that way. All Firestar’s senses were alert.
As they headed away from the river toward the farmland on the other side of RiverClan territory, the reeds thinned out and the ground rose. When Firestar and his friends came to the edge of the cover, they saw a grassy slope in front of them with an occasional clump of gorse and hawthorn. About halfway up a dark hole yawned in the hillside. Jaggedtooth was crouched outside it.
“There are pawprints leading into that hole,” Firestar murmured.
Graystripe lifted his muzzle to taste the air and let out a faint sound of disgust. “Sick cats,” he meowed quietly. “You’re right, Firestar; this is the place.” He bared his teeth. “Jaggedtooth is mine.”
“No.” Firestar’s tail whipped out, signaling his friend to stay where he was. “We can’t afford a fight. The noise would bring every cat in the territory. We have to get rid of him another way.”
“I can do that.” Ravenpaw’s paws anxiously kneaded the ground, but his expression was determined. “He’ll recognize you two, but he doesn’t know me.”
Firestar hesitated, then nodded. “How will you do it?”
“I’ve got a plan.” Ravenpaw’s eyes shone with anticipation, and Firestar realized that the loner was almost relishing the danger, as if he had missed having a chance to use his warrior skills. “Don’t worry; it’ll be fine,” the black cat assured him.
Straightening up, he strolled out of the reeds and up the slope, his head and tail held high. Jaggedtooth got up and paced forward to meet him, the tabby fur on his neck bristling.
Firestar gathered himself, ready to spring if the ShadowClan warrior attacked. But though Jaggedtooth looked aggressive, he did nothing more than give Ravenpaw a suspicious sniff.
“I don’t know you,” he growled. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“Think you know all the RiverClan cats, do you?” Ravenpaw inquired coolly. “I’ve got a message from Tigerstar.”
Jaggedtooth grunted and his whiskers twitched as he sniffed Ravenpaw again. “Great StarClan, you stink!”
“You don’t smell so pleasant yourself,” Ravenpaw retorted. “Do you want this message or don’t you?”
Firestar and Graystripe exchanged a glance as Jaggedtooth hesitated. Firestar felt his heart thud painfully against his ribs.
“Go on, then,” the ShadowClan warrior meowed at last.
“Tigerstar wants you to go to him at once,” mewed Ravenpaw. “He sent me to take your place guarding the prisoners.”
“What?” Jaggedtooth lashed his tail in disbelief. “Only ShadowClan guards the prisoners. You RiverClan cats are all too soft. Why did Tigerstar send you and not one of our own Clan?”
Firestar flinched. Ravenpaw had made a potentially fatal mistake.
But the loner didn’t seem bothered. Turning away, he meowed, “I thought we were supposed to be all one Clan now. But suit yourself. I’ll tell Tigerstar you wouldn’t come.”
“No, wait.” Jaggedtooth twitched his ears. “I didn’t say that. If Tigerstar wants me…Where is he, then?”
“Over there.” Ravenpaw pointed with his tail in the direction of the RiverClan camp. “He had Darkstripe and Blackfoot with him.”
Jaggedtooth made up his mind. “Right,” he muttered. “But you stay out here till I get back. If I smell your stink inside the hole I’ll rip your fur off.”
He headed down the slope. Ravenpaw watched him go, then padded up and sat down just outside the hole. Firestar and Graystripe crouched in the reeds as Jaggedtooth passed within a couple of tail-lengths of them. He was hurrying now, and did not even stop to scent the air as he vanished down the path.
Once he had gone, Firestar and Graystripe bounded across the open ground to join Ravenpaw. Graystripe paused briefly to sniff and meowed, “Yes! They’re in there!” before he vanished inside the hole.
Firestar stopped in front of Ravenpaw. “Well done!”
Ravenpaw licked his paw and drew it over his ear two or three times to hide his embarrassment. “It was easy. He’s such a stupid furball.”
“Yes, but he’ll know something’s up as soon as he finds Tigerstar,” Firestar pointed out. “Keep watch, and call out if you see any cat.” With a last glance behind him, he plunged into the hole after Graystripe.
He found himself in a long, narrow passage carved out of the sandy soil. Thick darkness engulfed him after the first few tail-lengths. There was a lingering scent of fox, but it was faint and stale, as if the original occupant of the hole were long gone. Stronger by far was the fear scent rising from the darkness, the scent of cats who had given up all hope.
The passage led steadily downward. Before he reached the end of it, Firestar heard the sound of scuffling and surprised mews. One of the apprentices called out, “Father? Is it really you?”
A moment later Firestar could no longer feel his fur brushing the passage walls on either side. His next step brought him up against a cat’s haunches; he recognized Graystripe by his scent. The scent of the two apprentices was stronger than ever, and with a jolt of relief Firestar recognized another cat.
“Mistyfoot!” he exclaimed. “Thank StarClan we’ve found you.”
“Is that Firestar?” Mistyfoot’s voice was hoarse, close to his ear. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story,” Firestar replied. “I’ll tell you everything, but first we have to get out of here. Graystripe, are you ready?”
A tense mew of agreement came from his friend. Though Firestar couldn’t see him, he could picture him huddled close to Featherpaw and Stormpaw.
“Let’s go,” Firestar meowed, turning with difficulty in the narrow mouth of the underground den. “Mistyfoot, we’re going to take you all back to ThunderClan with us.” Remembering how weak Stonefur and the apprentices had looked, he added, “Can you make it that far?”
“Once I’m out of this hole I can make it anywhere,” Mistyfoot mewed determinedly.
“So can we,” added Featherpaw.
“That’s great. Mistyfoot, I’m so sorry, but we couldn’t rescue Stonefur…” Firestar began, looking for words to tell the she-cat about her brother’s death.
“I already know,” meowed Mistyfoot, her voice ragged with grief. “The apprentices told me. They say he died bravely.”
“Very bravely. All StarClan will honor him.” Firestar pushed his muzzle into Mistyfoot’s fur, a gesture of comfort. “Come on. We’ll make sure he didn’t die for nothing. Tigerstar will not hurt you as well.”
His heart thudding with fear, Firestar scrabbled his way back up the tunnel. At the top he paused to check that it was safe to emerge, then led the way into the open. He felt as if the rancid stench of the prison would cling to his fur forever. Ravenpaw took his place at the back of the group, keeping a lookout as they crept down the slope.
Silent as shadows, the cats followed the path through the reeds until they came to the clearing again. It was empty, the Bonehill casting its ominous shadow as far as the body of Stonefur lying still in the moonlight.
Mistyfoot went over to her brother and bent her head to nose his fur. Outside the darkness of her prison, Firestar saw that she was as skinny and unkempt as the dead warrior, every rib showing, her fur matted and her eyes dull with suffering.
“St o n e f u r, St o n e f u r,” she murmured. “What will I do without you?”
Firestar’s fur bristled with tension as he listened for the sound of approaching cats, but he forced himself to give Mistyfoot time to mourn. They could not take Stonefur’s body with them for the proper warrior’s vigil; this was Mistyfoot’s last farewell.