Blackclaw scrabbled on the ground, trying to escape Fireheart’s grip. Fireheart raked his claws across his back, only to lose his hold as another cat barreled into him from the side. He went down and felt teeth meet in his tail.
Longtail was right, he thought despairingly. They’ll tear us into strips!
The ThunderClan cats were hopelessly outnumbered, and there had been no time for Swiftpaw to reach the camp and return with help. Long before reinforcements could arrive, the patrol would have been driven off or killed, and Sunningrocks would belong to RiverClan again.
Fireheart writhed helplessly, struggling for enough space to use teeth and claws. Suddenly the weight lifted as the cat lying across his legs was yanked away. He sprang to his paws to see Cloudpaw perched on Blackclaw’s back, his claws fastened deep in the warrior’s black fur and the wild light of battle in his eyes. Blackclaw reared up on his hind legs, but he couldn’t shake the apprentice off.
“See, Fireheart!” Cloudpaw yelled. “Do it this way—it’s easy!”
There was no time for Fireheart to answer. He spat an insult after the other warrior, who vanished wailing among the rocks, and threw himself into the whirling mass of cats around Longtail. Fireheart dragged one warrior off him, and suddenly came face-to-face with Brackenfur as the younger warrior burst out of the trees.
He gasped with surprise and gave fervent thanks to StarClan. Swiftpaw must have met the hunting patrol scouting near Sunningrocks, as Fireheart had ordered after Graystripe’s warning—and sent them along, bringing help long before Fireheart had dared to hope for it.
“Where’s Bluestar?” Brackenfur called.
“Don’t know.”
In the moment’s respite, Fireheart looked around for his leader. There was still no sign of her, though he caught sight of Leopardstar facing up to Whitestorm on top of a rock a few fox-lengths away.
Longtail staggered to his paws, panting for breath as he leaned against the rock face. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead and he had lost a strip of fur along his flank, but his lips were still drawn back in a snarl, and he followed Brackenfur willingly as the ginger warrior leaped into the battle.
Fireheart was about to join them when he heard a voice calling out urgently above the noise of the fighting: “Fireheart! Fireheart!”
He spun around to see Graystripe crouched on top of the nearest rock, a look of anguish on his broad face. “Fireheart, come here!” he yowled.
For a heartbeat Fireheart wondered if this was a trap, and then felt ashamed of himself. His friend had avoided fighting him face-to-face; he would never snare him with a trick.
Fireheart bounded up the smooth slope of the rock to Graystripe’s side. “What is it?”
Graystripe pointed with his muzzle toward the other side of the rock. “Look.”
Fireheart peered over the edge. The rock sloped down more steeply there into a narrow gully. Bluestar was crouching almost directly below him. Her fur was ruffled, and she was bleeding from one shoulder. Coming along the gully on either side, cutting off any possible escape, were Mistyfoot and Stonefur.
The RiverClan deputy slashed his claws at Bluestar without touching her. “Defend yourself!” snarled the gray tom. “Or I swear by StarClan I’ll kill you.”
On Bluestar’s other side, Mistyfoot crept closer, her belly flat to the ground. “Are you scared to fight us?” she hissed.
Bluestar did not move, except to turn her head from one to the other. Fireheart could not see her expression from his vantage point, but he knew she would never be able to attack her own kits.
“I had to tell you,” Graystripe whispered beside Fireheart. “They’ll call me a traitor—but I couldn’t let them kill Bluestar.”
Fireheart shot his friend a look of gratitude. Graystripe had no idea of the real relationship between Bluestar and these two RiverClan cats. His only motive was loyalty to his former leader.
But Fireheart had no time to think for long about Graystripe’s tangled loyalties. He had to save Bluestar. The RiverClan cats had advanced until they were almost touching her, their fur bristling and their teeth bared in a snarl.
“Call yourself a leader?” Stonefur sneered. “Why won’t you fight?”
He drew back a paw to bring it raking down over Bluestar’s shoulder. At the same instant, Fireheart launched himself down the rock face. He landed hard in the gully, practically on top of Stonefur, forcing him away from Bluestar. On the Clan leader’s other side, Mistyfoot let out a screech of defiance and unsheathed her claws.
“Stop!” Fireheart yowled. “You can’t harm Bluestar—she’s your mother!”
Chapter 17
The RiverClan warriors froze, their blue eyes wide with shock.
“What do you mean?” Stonefur rasped. “Graypool was our mother.”
“No, listen…” Fireheart bundled Bluestar against the rock face and stood in front of her. He could still hear the yowls and spitting of the battle on the other side of the rock, but suddenly it seemed to have nothing to do with the confrontation in this gully.
“Bluestar gave birth to you in ThunderClan,” he meowed desperately. “But she couldn’t keep you. Your father, Oakheart, brought you to RiverClan.”
“I don’t believe you!” Stonefur drew his lips back in a vicious snarl. “It’s a trick.”
“No, wait,” mewed Mistyfoot. “Fireheart doesn’t lie.”
“How would you know?” her brother demanded. “He’s a ThunderClan cat. Why should we trust him?”
He advanced on Fireheart, claws out, and the ThunderClan warrior braced himself for the attack, but before Stonefur could spring, Bluestar slipped out from behind him and faced the two RiverClan cats.
“My kits, oh, my kits…” Bluestar’s voice was warm, and when she turned her head Fireheart saw that her eyes were blazing with admiration. “You’re such fine warriors now. I’m so proud of you.”
Stonefur glanced at Mistyfoot, uncertainty showing in his twitching ears.
“Leave Bluestar alone,” Fireheart urged quietly.
A sudden yowling interrupted him. “Fireheart! Watch out!” The voice was Graystripe’s.
Fireheart looked up in time to see Leopardstar plunging down the rock toward him. Graystripe’s warning gave him just enough time to scramble backward, so that her outstretched claws only raked his shoulder. Spitting, she flung herself at him, driving the breath out of his body as she hurled him to the ground.
Fireheart gripped the RiverClan leader’s neck with his front paws and felt her powerful hind paws raking at his belly. Pain stabbed through him, and he slashed out blindly, feeling his claws score through fur. For a few heartbeats all he could see was Leopardstar’s spotted pelt; his face was pressed into it, half smothering him, and he struggled to breathe.
Suddenly Leopardstar jerked her head back, and Fireheart lost his hold on her neck. Her stifling weight was lifted off him. Scrambling to his paws, he backed against the rock, ready for her to spring at him again. His head whirled with exhaustion, and he could feel blood pulsing out of a wound on his leg. Suddenly he wasn’t sure that this was a battle he could win.
He looked around for Bluestar, but she had disappeared, and so had Mistyfoot and Stonefur. The RiverClan leader crouched on the ground in front of him, breathing hard, bleeding from her neck and side. To Fireheart’s astonishment, Graystripe stood over her, pinning her down with his front paws.
“I had him,” Leopardstar panted, almost incoherent with fury. “I heard you just now. You warned him.”
Graystripe released his leader so she could stagger to her paws again. “I’m sorry, Leopardstar, but Fireheart’s my friend.”