“This isn’t just a disagreement!” Fireheart protested. “There isn’t a scrap of proof for what she suggests.” His raised voice made Sandstorm prick up her ears as she lay beside Speckletail, and he lowered it again as he added, “Bluestar was a great leader. Every cat knows that. But now…I can’t trust her judgment, Cinderpelt. Not when she isn’t making any sense.”
“You should still try to understand her. Show her a bit of sympathy, at least. She deserves that from every cat.”
For a few heartbeats Fireheart felt outrage that Cinderpelt, who had once been his apprentice, should be talking to him like this. It wasn’t Cinderpelt who had to defend Bluestar’s decisions and try to hide her confusion so that her own Clan still trusted her. Not to mention making excuses for her to all the other Clans so that no cat would guess the weakness at ThunderClan’s heart.
“Do you think I haven’t tried?” he snapped. “If I’m any more sympathetic, my fur will fall out!”
“Your fur looks fine to me,” Cinderpelt remarked.
“Look…” Fireheart made one last effort to suppress his annoyance. “Bluestar missed the last Gathering. If she doesn’t go to the next one, every cat in the forest will know something’s wrong. Can’t you give her something to make her a bit more reasonable?”
“I’ll try. But there’s a limit to what my herbs can do. She’s gotten over the effects of the fire, you know. This trouble started long before that, when she first found out about Tigerstar. She’s old and tired, and she thinks she’s losing everything she believed in, even StarClan.”
“Especially StarClan,” Fireheart agreed. “And if she—”
He broke off, realizing that Sandstorm had left Speckletail and was walking toward him. “Finished talking secrets?” she mewed with an edge to her voice. Flicking her tail toward Speckletail, she added, “She’s asleep. I’ll leave her to you, Cinderpelt.”
“Thanks for your help, Sandstorm.”
Both she-cats were being very polite to each other, but somehow Fireheart felt it wouldn’t take much for them to unsheathe their claws. He wondered why, then decided he didn’t have time to worry about petty squabbles.
“We’ll go and eat, then,” he meowed.
“And afterward you need to rest,” Sandstorm told him. “You’ve been on your paws since dawn.”
She gave him a nudge, propelling him toward the main clearing. Before he had taken more than a couple of paces, Cinderpelt called after him, “Send some fresh-kill for me and Speckletail. If you’ve got time, that is.”
“Of course I’ve got time.” Fireheart felt completely baffled by the tension that had chilled the air. “I’ll see to it right away.”
“Good.” Cinderpelt gave him a curt nod, and Fireheart felt her blue gaze trained on his back all the way across the clearing.
Chapter 10
The stars of Silverpelt blazed from a clear sky, and the full moon rode high. Fireheart crouched at the top of the hollow leading down to Fourtrees. Beneath the four great oaks, the ground was carpeted with fallen leaves, glittering in the first frost of leaf-fall. Black shapes of cats moved to and fro against the pale shimmer.
This time Bluestar had insisted on leading her Clan to the Gathering. Fireheart couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or not. True, now he didn’t have to invent excuses for her, but he was also worried about what she might say. As ThunderClan’s problems piled up, it was becoming more and more difficult to present a strong face to their rival Clans, and his apprehension bit deeper when he admitted to himself that he could no longer trust his leader’s judgment.
He edged toward her, out of earshot of Cloudpaw and Mousefur, who were beside him. “Bluestar,” he murmured. “What will you—”
As if she hadn’t heard him, Bluestar signaled with her tail and the ThunderClan cats sprang to their paws and raced down through the bushes into the hollow. Fireheart had no option but to follow. Before they left the camp, Bluestar had refused to talk about the coming Gathering, and now his last chance to discuss it with her had gone.
Down in the hollow there were fewer cats than Fireheart had expected, and he realized they were all from WindClan and ShadowClan. He spotted Tallstar and Tigerstar seated side by side at the base of the Great Rock. Bluestar walked straight past them, her tail as stiff as if she were advancing on an enemy. Without acknowledging them with so much as the flick of a whisker, she leaped up to the Great Rock and sat there, her gray-blue fur glowing in the moonlight.
Fireheart took a deep breath and tried to calm the fears that welled inside him. Bluestar had already convinced herself that Tallstar was her enemy; to see the WindClan leader talking privately with Tigerstar, the traitor Bluestar feared most, would make her surer that she was right.
As he watched, Fireheart saw Tallstar lean over to Tigerstar and meow something; Tigerstar flicked his tail dismissively. Fireheart wondered if he should creep closer to listen to what they were saying, but before he could move he felt a friendly nudge at his shoulder and looked around to see Onewhisker, a warrior of WindClan.
“Hi, there,” Onewhisker meowed. “Do you remember who this is?”
He pushed a young cat forward, a tabby with bright eyes and ears pricked with excitement. “This is Morningflower’s kit,” Onewhisker explained. “He’s my apprentice now—Gorsepaw. Isn’t he big now?”
“Morningflower’s kit, of course! I saw you at the last Gathering.” Fireheart still found it hard to believe that this well-muscled apprentice was the same scrap of fur whom he had carried across the Thunderpath when he and Graystripe brought WindClan home.
“Mother told me about you, Fireheart,” Gorsepaw mewed shyly. “How you carried me, and everything.”
“Well, I’m glad I don’t have to carry you now,” Fireheart replied. “If you grow much more, you’ll be able to join LionClan!”
Gorsepaw purred happily. Fireheart was sharply aware of the warm friendship that he felt for these cats, which had survived all the skirmishing and disagreements since that long-ago journey.
“We should be starting the meeting,” Onewhisker went on. “But there’s no sign of RiverClan.”
The words were hardly out of his mouth when there was a stir among the bushes at the other side of the clearing. A group of RiverClan cats appeared, padding close together into the open. Stalking proudly at their head was Leopardfur.
“Where’s Crookedstar?” Onewhisker wondered out loud.
“I heard he’s ill,” Fireheart meowed, realizing that he wasn’t surprised to see Leopardfur taking her leader’s place. From what Graystripe had told him by the river half a moon ago, he hadn’t expected the RiverClan leader to be well enough to attend a Gathering.
Leopardfur walked straight toward the base of the Great Rock, where Tallstar and Tigerstar were sitting. She dipped her head courteously and settled down beside them.
Fireheart was too far away to hear what they were saying, and he was distracted a moment later as a familiar gray warrior bounded across the clearing to his side.
“Graystripe!” Fireheart gave a welcoming mew. “I thought you weren’t allowed to come to Gatherings.”
“I wasn’t,” replied Graystripe, touching noses with his friend. “But Stonefur said I should have a chance to prove my loyalty.”
“Stonefur?” Fireheart echoed. He had noticed both of Bluestar’s kits, Stonefur and his sister, Mistyfoot, among the cats who followed Leopardfur. “What’s it got to do with him?”
“Stonefur’s our new deputy,” meowed Graystripe. He frowned. “Oh, of course, you don’t know. Crookedstar died two nights ago. Leopardstar is our leader now.”
Fireheart was silent for a moment, remembering the dignified old cat who had helped ThunderClan during the fire. The news of Crookedstar’s death didn’t surprise him, but it still brought a pang of anxiety. Leopardstar would be a strong leader, good for RiverClan, but she had no love for ThunderClan.