An uneasy shiver ran down Fireheart’s spine. “So you think Ravenpaw made the story up because he didn’t get along with his mentor?” he meowed scornfully.
“No,” mumbled Graystripe. “I just think we should be careful.”
Fireheart looked into his friend’s worried eyes and began to wonder. He supposed Graystripe did have a point—they had been warriors for only a few days, so they were in no position to start hurling accusations at the Clan’s most senior warrior.
“It’s okay,” Fireheart meowed at last. “You can stay out of it.” A twinge of regret flickered in his belly as Graystripe nodded and returned to washing. Fireheart believed that Graystripe was wrong to think it was only Ravenpaw who had a problem with Tigerclaw. Fireheart’s own instincts told him that the ThunderClan deputy should not be trusted. He had to share his suspicions with Bluestar, for her safety and the safety of the Clan.
A glimpse of gray fur on the other side of the clearing told Fireheart that Bluestar had emerged from her den—alone. He scrambled to his paws, but the ThunderClan leader leaped straight up onto the Highrock and called to the Clan. Fireheart lashed his tail impatiently.
Graystripe’s ears flicked excitedly as he heard Bluestar’s call. “A naming ceremony?” he meowed. “It must be Longtail getting his first apprentice. He’s been dropping hints for days.” He bounded over to join the cats gathering at the edge of the clearing, and, still itching with frustration, Fireheart followed.
A small black-and-white kit padded into the clearing. His soft paws made no sound on the hard earth. He walked toward the Highrock with his pale eyes lowered and Fireheart almost expected to see him tremble—there was something in the slope of this kit’s shoulders that made him seem too young and timid to be an apprentice. Longtail won’t be impressed! Fireheart thought, remembering Longtail’s scorn when Fireheart had arrived at the camp for the first time. The warrior had taunted him viciously on his first day with the Clan, mocking his kittypet origins. Fireheart had disliked him ever since.
“From this day forward,” Bluestar meowed, staring down at the kit, “until he has earned his warrior name, this apprentice will be called Swiftpaw.”
There was no flash of determination in the eyes of the black-and-white kit as he looked up at his leader. Instead his amber eyes were wide with anxiety.
Fireheart turned his head as Longtail padded toward his new apprentice.
Bluestar spoke again. “Longtail, you were Darkstripe’s apprentice. He taught you well, and you have become a fierce and loyal warrior. I hope you will pass some of these qualities on to Swiftpaw.”
Fireheart searched Longtail’s face for an expression of disdain as he looked down at Swiftpaw. But the warrior’s eyes softened as he met his new apprentice’s gaze, and gently the two Clan cats touched noses. “It’s okay, you’re doing fine,” Longtail murmured encouragingly. Yeah, right, Fireheart thought bitterly. Just because he’s Clanborn. Longtail sure didn’t welcome me like that. He glanced around the rest of the Clan and felt a pang of resentment as they began to murmur congratulations to the new apprentice.
“What’s up with you?” whispered Graystripe. “That’ll be us one day.”
Fireheart nodded, suddenly cheered by the thought of getting his own apprentice, and pushed away his resentment. He was a part of ThunderClan now, and surely that was all that mattered?
The next night brought the full moon. Fireheart knew he should be looking forward to his first Gathering as a warrior, but he was still determined to find a chance to tell Bluestar everything he knew about Tigerclaw, and the thought of it lay like a cold stone in his stomach.
“Have you got maggot-gut or something?” meowed Graystripe beside him. “You’re pulling some very weird faces!”
Fireheart looked at his friend, wishing he could confide in him, but he’d promised to leave Graystripe out of it. “I’m fine,” he meowed. “Come on. I hear Bluestar calling.”
The two cats trotted over to the group assembling in the clearing. Bluestar dipped her head to acknowledge their arrival. Then she turned and led the cats out of the camp.
Fireheart paused while the other cats scrambled past him up the steep trail that led to the forest above. This journey might give him just enough time to speak to Bluestar, and he wanted to gather his thoughts.
“Are you coming?” Graystripe’s voice called down.
“Yep!” Firepaw flexed his powerful hind legs and began to leap from boulder to boulder, leaving the camp behind.
At the top, he paused to catch his breath, his sides heaving. The forest stretched away before him. Beneath his paws he could feel the crisp crackle of newly fallen leaves. Silverpelt glittered in the sky like morning dew scattered on black fur.
Fireheart thought of his first journey to Fourtrees with Tigerclaw and Lionheart. He felt a pang of sadness as he remembered Lionheart. Graystripe’s mentor, and ThunderClan’s deputy between Redtail and Tigerclaw, had been a warmhearted, golden warrior. He’d been killed in battle, and Tigerclaw had taken his place. On Fireheart’s first visit to Fourtrees, Lionheart had taken the apprentices on a roundabout route, through Tallpines, past Sunningrocks, and along the RiverClan border. Tonight Bluestar would lead them straight through the heart of ThunderClan territory. Fireheart could see her already disappearing into the undergrowth, and he charged after the party of cats.
Bluestar was at the front, next to Tigerclaw. Fireheart ignored Graystripe’s surprised meow and caught up with the Clan leader. “Bluestar,” he called, panting, as he drew up beside her. “May I talk to you?”
Bluestar glanced at him and nodded. “Take the lead, Tigerclaw,” she meowed. She let her pace slow, and Tigerclaw bounded past her. The other cats followed the dark tabby without question as he raced on through the undergrowth.
Bluestar and Fireheart dropped into a steady trot. Within a moment they were alone.
The path emerged from the thick ferns into a small clearing. Bluestar leaped onto a fallen tree and sat down, curling her tail over her front paws. “What is it, Fireheart?” she asked.
Fireheart hesitated, suddenly struck by doubt. Bluestar was the cat who had encouraged him to leave his kittypet life and join the Clan. Since then she had trusted him time and time again when other cats had questioned his loyalty to a Clan whose blood he didn’t share. What would she say when Fireheart told her that he had lied about Ravenpaw?
“Speak,” Bluestar ordered as the pawsteps of the other ThunderClan cats faded into the distance.
Fireheart took a deep breath. “Ravenpaw’s not dead.” Bluestar’s tail twitched in surprise, but she listened silently as Fireheart continued. “Graystripe and I took him to WindClan’s hunting grounds. I…I think he may have joined Barley.” Barley was a loner, not a forest cat but not a kittypet either. He lived on a Twoleg farm that lay on the route to Highstones, a sacred place for all the cats in the forest.
The ThunderClan leader stared past Fireheart into the depths of the forest. Fireheart searched her face anxiously, trying to read her expression. Was she angry? But he could see no anger in her wide, blue eyes.
After several long moments, Bluestar spoke. “I am glad to hear that Ravenpaw is still alive. I hope he is happier living with Barley than he was in the forest.”
“B-but he was born into ThunderClan!” Fireheart stammered, taken aback by his leader’s calm acceptance of Ravenpaw’s departure.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean he was suited to Clan life,” Bluestar pointed out. “After all, you aren’t Clanborn, yet you’ve become a fine warrior. Ravenpaw may find his true path elsewhere.”