“No!” he yowled, and he hurled himself at Bone with Graystripe hard on his paws.
Bone sprang backward, only to cannon into Bramblepaw and Ashpaw, who came charging across the clearing at the same moment. Firestar saw his apprentice leap onto the huge deputy’s back, while Ashpaw bit down into his hind leg.
Confident that Bone would be distracted for a while, Firestar crouched beside Whitestorm, almost oblivious to the battle that surged around them. Recognition glimmered in the white warrior’s eyes when he saw Firestar, and the tip of his tail twitched. “Good-bye, Firestar,” he rasped.
“Whitestorm, no!” Firestar felt a wail of agony building up inside him. He should never have brought his deputy into this battle, when all along the white warrior had seemed to know that it would be his last. “Graystripe, find Cinderpelt.”
“Too late,” Whitestorm breathed. “I go to hunt with StarClan.”
“You can’t—the Clan needs you! I need you!”
“You will find others…” The white warrior’s gaze, growing rapidly dimmer, flickered to Graystripe and back again. “Trust your heart, Firestar. You have always known that Graystripe is the cat StarClan destined to be your deputy.”
Letting out a long sigh, he closed his eyes.
“Whitestorm…” Firestar wanted to mewl his grief like a tiny kit. For a heartbeat he pushed his nose into his deputy’s blood-soaked fur, the only mourning ritual that the battle allowed.
Then he turned to Graystripe, who was staring in shock at the old warrior’s body. “You heard what he said,” Firestar meowed. “He chose you.” Rising to his paws, he lifted his voice above the tumult of battle. “I say these words before the body of Whitestorm, that his spirit may hear and approve my choice. Graystripe will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”
A yowl of agreement from behind startled him, and Firestar turned to see Sandstorm and Dustpelt pausing to nod briefly at Graystripe before dashing back into the battle again.
Graystripe had not moved, his yellow eyes fixed on Firestar. “Are you…are you sure?”
“Never surer,” Firestar growled. “Now, Graystripe!”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the BloodClan deputy struggling free from Bramblepaw and Ashpaw. Before Firestar could spring at him, a screech of defiance sounded above the noise of battle and several more apprentices hurtled across the clearing. Bone was barely visible under the writhing heap of furious young cats. Bramblepaw and Ashpaw were there, with Featherpaw and Stormpaw and, yes, Tawnypaw, fighting beside her brother. Within a few heartbeats Bone had stopped trying to defend himself; his body went into a series of spasms, ending in his twitching tail, and as Firestar watched the twitching stopped. Ashpaw let out a hoarse cry of triumph.
At the same instant Jaggedtooth appeared out of nowhere. Firestar felt his fur stand on end. Once a rogue, then a member of ShadowClan, and now part of the insult to the warrior code that was BloodClan. The massive warrior flung himself on the apprentices and fastened his teeth in the nearest—Bramblepaw—dragging him off Bone’s body. At once Tawnypaw launched herself at the rogue cat. “Let go of my brother!” she spat. The rest of the apprentices sprang forward with her, and Jaggedtooth abruptly dropped Bramblepaw, turning tail and fleeing across the clearing with all the apprentices in pursuit.
Br ea thing hard, Firestar glanced around, and his stomach turned over as he tried to judge how the battle was going. Though Darkstripe and Bone were dead, and Jaggedtooth had been driven off, the clearing still seemed full of BloodClan warriors, and yet more were racing down the slope. ThunderClan had lost Whitestorm, and between the battling cats Firestar caught a glimpse of Torn ear from WindClan lying motionless. Brackenfur and Mousefur fought on side by side, but Brackenfur was limping and Mousefur had deep claw marks stretching all along one side. At the edge of the clearing Frostfur was dragging herself into the bushes, with Fernpaw helping her, and not far away Runningnose, the ShadowClan medicine cat, was pressing cobwebs on a wound in Blackfoot’s shoulder, until the ShadowClan deputy shook him off and threw himself back into the fray. Leopard star appeared briefly, yowling hoarse encouragement to her warriors, before she vanished again in a surge of BloodClan cats.
We’re losing, Firestar thought, fighting panic. I must find Scourge!
With the BloodClan leader’s death, he knew the battle would be over. The cats from Twolegplace had no sense of tradition or loyalty to the warrior code. Scourge held them together, and without him they would be nothing.
Firestar felt his fur begin to bristle as his gaze found Scourge at last. The small black cat was crouched at the base of the Great Rock, his claws slicing at a warrior he had trapped there. Firestar’s belly lurched as he recognized Onewhisker.
With a yowl of defiance he leaped across the clearing. Scourge whipped around, leaving Onewhisker to crawl away, bleeding.
The BloodClan leader bared his teeth in a snarl. “Firestar!”
Without warning, he leaped. Firestar rolled with the impact and landed on top of the smaller cat, planting one paw on his neck. But before he could bite down, Scourge wriggled away with the speed of a snake. The dogs’ teeth on his claws flashed as he raked them across Firestar’s shoulder.
Excruciating pain lanced through Firestar’s body. He forced himself not to flinch but leaped forward again, sending Scourge flying back against the Great Rock. Briefly the black tom was stunned, and Firestar managed to bite down on his foreleg. Pain like fire seared through him again with another blow from the BloodClan leader’s claws, and in the shock of it Firestar lost his grip on Scourge.
The BloodClan leader reared back, his paw raised for the death blow. Firestar scrabbled to get away, but he was not fast enough. Agony exploded in his head as the reinforced claws struck down. flame washed over his eyes, fading to leave nothing but darkness. A soft, black tide was rising to engulf him; he made one final effort to get up, but his paws would not support him, and he fell back into nothingness.
Chapter 29
Firestar opened his eyes. He was lying on the grass of Fourtrees with moonlight washing around him and the rustle of leaves above his head. For a few heartbeats he relaxed, reveling in the warm air of greenleaf.
Then he remembered Fourtrees as he had last seen it, the branches black and stark in the depths of leaf-bare and the clearing thronged with screeching, warring cats.
Abruptly he sat up. He was not alone. The warriors of StarClan lined the clearing, illuminating it with the shimmer of their pelts and the gleam in their eyes. In the front rank Firestar could see the cats who had given him his nine lives: Bluestar, Yellowfang, and Spottedleaf, Lionheart…and a newcomer, Whitestorm, restored to his youthful strength, with starlight glimmering in his thick fur.
“Welcome, Firestar,” meowed the white warrior.
Firestar scrambled to his paws. “Why…why have you brought me here?” he demanded. “I should be back there, fighting to save my Clan.”
It was Bluestar who replied. “Look, Firestar.”
Firestar saw there was a space beside her. At first he thought it was empty, but suddenly he realized that it was filled by the faintest outline of a flame-colored cat. His green eyes glowed so pale they barely reflected the starlight that filled the hollow, but Firestar recognized him at once.
“You have lost your first life,” Bluestar meowed gently.
A shiver ran through Firestar. So this was what it felt like to die. He stared in mingled curiosity and fear at the pale copy of himself in the middle of the clearing, and as his gaze locked with the ghost cat’s he suddenly saw himself, hunched and bleeding, his fur ragged and the light of desperation burning in his eyes.