Gazing steadily at the noble black-and-white cat, Firestar meowed, “I swear by StarClan that my Clan will be the friend of yours, to fight this evil side by side.”
“I swear it too,” Tallstar replied solemnly.
Firestar raised his head, tasting the air, which still carried a faint trace of the raiding cats. He knew that this vow would run through their blood like cold fire until Tigerstar had been driven from the forest—or until they lost their ninth lives trying.
Chapter 20
The sun had begun to set over the river, turning the water to a moving sheet of flame and sending a comforting warmth through Firestar’s fur. He stood on the top of Sunningrocks, looking out over RiverClan territory.
“I wonder what tomorrow will bring,” he murmured.
Beside him, Sandstorm shook her head, not replying in words but pressing her warm flank close to him. After their return from the devastated WindClan camp, Firestar had asked the pale ginger warrior to patrol with him. He had felt the need to get away from the rest of his Clan for a while to prepare himself for the meeting with Tigerstar. Yet he had not wanted to be completely alone, and Sandstorm’s presence comforted him.
They had skirted Snakerocks and followed the Thunderpath up to the border with ShadowClan to renew the scent markings as far as Fourtrees; finally they returned along the RiverClan border.
There was no sign of TigerClan intruders. The borders were secure, and yet Firestar knew that if they had to fight TigerClan the battle would be about so much more than borders. It would be the climax of his conflict with Tigerstar, which had lasted almost since he had first set paw in the forest.
Firestar lingered on the rocks, savoring the comfort of being alone with Sandstorm. “Tigerstar is determined to make himself ruler of the whole forest,” he meowed. “We must expect a battle.”
“And ThunderClan will bear the worst of it,” meowed Sandstorm. “How many warriors can WindClan offer us after today?”
Her voice was troubled, but Firestar knew that, with or without WindClan, every cat in ThunderClan would fight beside him bravely.
The fiery light was dying. Firestar turned to gaze across his beloved forest. A single star glittered in the violet sky.
Is that you, Bluestar? Firestar asked silently. Are you still watching over us?
Fervently he hoped that his former leader was still protecting the Clan she loved. If they survived the next day’s meeting with Tigerstar, and managed to stay free from his quest for absolute power, it would be because StarClan knew that the forest needed four Clans.
Everything was still and silent. There was no breeze to ruffle the cats’ fur, no sound of prey scuffling among the rocks. Firestar felt as if the whole forest were holding its breath, waiting for the coming dawn.
“I love you, Sandstorm,” he murmured, pushing his muzzle against her side.
Sandstorm turned her head to meet his gaze, her green eyes glowing. “I love you, too,” she replied. “And I know that you’ll bring us through tomorrow, whatever happens.”
Firestar wished her could share her conviction. But he let himself be soothed by her trust in him. “We need to go and rest,” he mewed.
The chill of night was gathering by the time they reached the ravine. Frost already sparkled on the grass and the surface of the rocks. As Firestar emerged from the gorse tunnel, a white shape loomed out of the darkness.
“I was starting to worry about you,” Whitestorm meowed. “I thought you might have run into trouble.”
“No, we’re fine,” Firestar replied. “There isn’t even a mouse stirring out there.”
“Pity. We could do with a few.” Whitestorm gave Firestar a quick report on the patrols he had sent out and the watch he had set on the camp. “You get some sleep,” he finished. “It’s going to be a tough day tomorrow.”
“I will,” Firestar agreed. “Thanks, Whitestorm.”
The white warrior faded back into the darkness again. “I’m going to check on the sentries,” he meowed as he retreated.
“You couldn’t have chosen a better deputy,” Sandstorm commented when he was out of earshot.
“I know. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Sandstorm looked at Firestar, sadness and wisdom in her green eyes. “You might find out tomorrow,” she meowed. “Or any of the others. If Tigerstar makes us fight, cats are going to die, Firestar.”
“I know.” But he had not truly thought about what that would mean until now. Some of the sleeping cats around him, the friends he loved, the warriors he trusted, would be lost to him. Win or lose, some of the cats Firestar led out to battle would not come back. And they would die because he had ordered them to fight. A pang of grief shook him, so deep and painful that he almost wailed aloud. “I know,” he repeated. “But what can I do?”
“Go on.” Sandstorm’s voice was soft. “You’re our leader, Firestar. You have to do your duty. And you do it brilliantly.”
Humbled, Firestar found nothing to say, and after a moment Sandstorm pressed her muzzle against his. “I’d better get some sleep,” she murmured.
“No, wait.” Firestar found he could not face the prospect of that solitary den underneath the Highrock, full of shadows. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Come and share my den with me.”
The ginger she-cat dipped her head. “All right, if you want me to.”
Firestar gave her ear a quick lick and led the way across the clearing. Even though the curtain of lichen over the entrance to the den had still not grown back after the fire, the den lay in deep shadow.
More by scent than sight Firestar realized that one of the apprentices had left fresh-kill for him, and he remembered how hungry he was. The prey was a rabbit; he and Sandstorm crouched side by side to share it, swallowing with quick, famished gulps.
“I needed that,” Sandstorm purred, extending her front paws and arching her back in a long, luxurious stretch. Then she yawned. “I could sleep for a moon.”
Firestar arranged his mossy bedding to make a sleeping place for her, and she curled up and closed her eyes. “Good night, Firestar,” she murmured.
Firestar touched his nose to her fur. “Good night.”
Soon her soft, regular breathing told him she was asleep. For all his weariness, Firestar did not feel ready to curl up beside her. Instead he sat watching while the moon rose and spilled pale light through the entrance to the den, touching Sandstorm’s fur to silver. She was so beautiful, Firestar thought, so precious to him. And yet she too might die tomorrow.
This is what it means to be a leader, he realized. He did not know if he could endure the pain of it, even though he knew that when dawn came, he would take up the burden StarClan had laid on him.
Please, StarClan, help me to bear it well, he thought as he settled himself into the moss beside Sandstorm. He took comfort from the warmth of her fur as he let sleep claim him at last.
Chapter 21
Firestar woke to see the den floor washed by the pale light of sunrise. Beside him, Sandstorm still slept, the moss stirred by her breathing. Careful not to wake her, Firestar rose, stretched, and padded out into the chilly morning.
The clearing was deserted, but almost at once Whitestorm appeared from the warriors’ den.
“I’ve sent out the dawn patrol,” he reported. “Brackenfur, Mousefur, and Graystripe. I told them to do a quick sweep up the ShadowClan border and report back to us.”
“Good,” mewed Firestar. “It would be just like Tigerstar to arrange a meeting at Fourtrees and then mount a raid somewhere else. That’s why I’m leaving you in charge of the camp, with as many warriors as I can spare.”