Suddenly the brambles ended and Fireheart found himself stepping out onto the filthy grass that edged the Thunderpath. “Careful!” he warned Sandstorm as she hopped out beside him. The hard gray path lay right in front of them, shimmering in the heat, and the ginger she-cat shrank back as a monster roared past.
“Where are the ShadowClan cats?” she asked.
Fireheart stared across the Thunderpath, screwing his eyes up and flattening his ears as more monsters screamed past, their bitter wind dragging at his fur and whiskers. The sick cats were nowhere to be seen, but they couldn’t possibly have crossed already.
“Look,” Sandstorm hissed. She pointed with her nose. Fireheart followed her wide-eyed stare along the dusty strip of grass. It was empty apart from a tiny flicker of movement where the tip of Whitethroat’s tail was disappearing into the ground, underneath the stinking flat stone of the Thunderpath.
Fireheart’s eyes grew round with disbelief. It was as if the Thunderpath had opened its mouth and swallowed the ShadowClan cats whole.
Chapter 9
“Where have they gone?” Fireheart gasped.
“Let’s have a closer look,” suggested Sandstorm, already trotting toward the place where the ShadowClan cats had disappeared.
Fireheart hurried after her. As they neared the patch of grass that had swallowed up the black tail, he noticed a shadow where the earth dipped away sharply into a hollow beside the Thunderpath. It was the entrance to a stone tunnel that led under the Thunderpath, like the one he’d used with Graystripe on their journey to find WindClan. Sandstorm’s pelt brushed against him as they crept down the slope and cautiously sniffed the gloomy entrance. Fireheart felt the rush of wind on his ears from the monsters roaring past above, but as well as the stench of the Thunderpath, he could smell the fresh scents of the ShadowClan cats. They had definitely come this way.
The tunnel was perfectly round, lined with pale cream stone about the height of two cats. The moss that grew halfway up the smooth sides told Fireheart that the tunnel ran with water during leaf-bare. Now it was dry, the bottom littered with leaves and Twoleg rubbish.
“Have you heard of this place before?” asked Sandstorm.
Fireheart shook his head. “It must be how ShadowClan crosses to get to Fourtrees.”
“A lot easier than dodging the monsters,” commented Sandstorm.
“No wonder Littlecloud wanted to be left to cross the Thunderpath alone. This tunnel is a secret ShadowClan would want to keep for themselves. Let’s get back to the camp and tell Bluestar.”
Fireheart dashed up the slope and back into the forest, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Sandstorm was with him. She came charging after him, and the two cats headed home. As they crossed the scentline, Fireheart felt the familiar relief of being back in the safety of ThunderClan territory; although, after hearing Littlecloud’s news about the sickness in ShadowClan, he doubted if the rival Clan was in a fit state to keep up their border patrols anyway.
“Bluestar!” Hotter than ever and breathless after the run home, Fireheart went straight to Bluestar’s den.
“Yes?” came the answer through the lichen.
Fireheart pushed his way in. The ThunderClan leader was lying in her nest with paws tucked neatly under her chest. “We found a tunnel just inside ShadowClan territory,” he told her. “It leads under the Thunderpath.”
“I hope you didn’t follow it,” growled Bluestar.
Fireheart hesitated. He had expected his leader to be excited by this discovery; instead her tone was harsh and accusing. “N-no, we didn’t,” he stammered.
“You took too much risk entering their territory at all. We don’t want to antagonize ShadowClan.”
“If ShadowClan is as weak as the warriors said, I don’t think they’d do anything about it,” he pointed out, but Bluestar stared past him, apparently busy with her own thoughts.
“Have those two cats gone?” she asked.
“Yes. They went through the tunnel. That’s how we found it,” Fireheart explained.
Bluestar nodded distantly. “I see.”
Fireheart searched the ThunderClan leader’s eyes for some hint of compassion. Didn’t she care about the sickness in ShadowClan at all? “Did we do the right thing, sending them back?” he couldn’t help asking.
“Of course!” snapped Bluestar. “We don’t want sickness in the camp again.”
“No, we don’t,” Fireheart agreed heavily.
As he turned to leave, Bluestar added, “Don’t tell anyone about the tunnel yet.”
“Okay,” Fireheart promised, slipping through the lichen. He wondered why Bluestar wanted to keep the tunnel a secret. After all, he had uncovered a weakness in ShadowClan’s border that could become a strength for ThunderClan. Not that he felt ShadowClan deserved any sort of attack at the moment, but surely a better knowledge of the forest could only be a good thing? Fireheart sighed as Sandstorm dashed up to him.
“What did she say? Was she pleased we’d found the tunnel?” she demanded.
Fireheart shook his head. “She told me to keep it a secret.”
“Why?” Sandstorm meowed in surprise.
Fireheart shrugged and kept going toward his den. Sandstorm trotted after him. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Is it Bluestar? Did she say anything else?”
Fireheart realized he was giving away too much of his anxiety about the ThunderClan leader. He bent to give his chest a quick lick, then lifted his head and meowed with forced brightness, “I must go. I promised I’d take Cloudpaw hunting this afternoon.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Sandstorm’s eyes looked concerned, and she added, “It’ll be fun. We haven’t been hunting together for ages.” She nodded toward the apprentices’ den, where Cloudpaw was dozing in the sunshine. The apprentice’s plump, furry belly rose and fell as he breathed. “He certainly needs the exercise,” she added. “He’s beginning to look like Willowpelt.” She purred with amusement. “He must be quite a hunter! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Clan cat that fat.”
There was no spite in Sandstorm’s voice, but Fireheart felt his fur growing hot. Cloudpaw did look fat for such a young cat, much fatter than the other apprentices, even though they were all enjoying the plentiful prey of greenleaf. “I think I should take Cloudpaw out by myself,” he meowed reluctantly. “I’ve been neglecting him a bit lately. Could we go out together another time?”
“Just let me know when,” Sandstorm responded cheerfully. “I’ll be there. I could catch us another rabbit.” Fireheart saw mischief flash in her pale green eyes, and he knew she was referring to the time they’d hunted together in a snowbound forest that shimmered with frost, when she had surprised him with her speed and skill. “Unless you’ve finally learned how to catch them for yourself!” Sandstorm teased, flicking Fireheart’s cheek with her tail as she trotted away.
Watching her go, Fireheart felt a strange, happy prickling in his paws. He shook his head and padded over to Cloudpaw. The sleepy apprentice arched his back and stretched, his short legs quivering with the effort.
“Have you been out of the camp today?” Fireheart asked.
“No,” answered Cloudpaw.
“Well, we’re going hunting,” Fireheart informed him curtly. He felt ruffled by the way Cloudpaw seemed to think he could just lie about and enjoy the sunshine. “You must be hungry.”
“Not really,” replied Cloudpaw.
Fireheart felt puzzled. Had Cloudpaw been stealing from the fresh-kill pile? Apprentices were not allowed to take food until they had hunted for the elders, or gone training with their mentors. Fireheart dismissed the thought instantly. The apprentice couldn’t have managed it without one of the Clan seeing him. “Well, if you’re not hungry we’ll start in the training hollow for some fighting practice,” he meowed. “We can hunt afterward.”