“The moon is rising,” Ravenpaw meowed quietly from the shadows. “If you want to be back by sunhigh, we don’t have much time.”
Fireheart nodded and turned to Sandstorm. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Sandstorm answered, stretching her forelegs in front of her.
“Good,” meowed Fireheart. “Then we’d better get going.”
Ravenpaw led the Clan cats as far as the uplands and left them at the bottom of the dew-covered slope that led to WindClan’s territory. Dawn was not far off, but it was the height of greenleaf and the sun rose early. They had made good progress.
“Thanks, Ravenpaw,” Fireheart meowed, touching the black cat’s nose with his own. “You did the right thing, coming to get me. I know it must have been hard, coming back to the forest.”
Ravenpaw dipped his head. “Even if we aren’t Clanmates anymore, you will always have my friendship and loyalty.”
Fireheart blinked away the emotion that clouded his eyes. “Be careful,” he warned the black cat. “Tigerclaw may not know where you live, but we have learned not to underestimate him. Be on your guard.”
Ravenpaw nodded soberly and turned away.
Fireheart watched his old denmate trot across the sparkling grass and disappear into the copse. “If we hurry, we can get to Fourtrees before the WindClan dawn patrol sets out,” he meowed. He set off up the slope, flanked by Cloudpaw and Sandstorm. It was a relief to travel through the uplands before the sun had risen. As they reached the highest part of the uplands, where deserted badger sets lay, the sun lifted its head above the horizon and sent a wave of golden light across the heather. Fireheart saw Cloudpaw watching it in wonder, his blue eyes wide. Hope rose in his heart that the young cat would keep his promise and stay in the forest.
“I smell home,” murmured the white apprentice.
“Really?” meowed Sandstorm doubtfully. “All I smell is old badger dirt!”
“And I smell ThunderClan intruders!”
The three ThunderClan cats spun around, their fur bristling. Deadfoot, the WindClan deputy, stepped out of the heather and jumped on top of the sandy badger set. He was small and skinny, and he moved with the distinctive lopsided gait that gave him his name, but Fireheart knew that, like the rest of WindClan, his size concealed an agility and speed that other Clans found hard to match.
There was a rustle and Mudclaw stalked from the heather. Fireheart eyed him tensely as the brown warrior circled the group and stopped behind them.
“Webpaw!” called Mudclaw. The tabby apprentice who had been with Mudclaw before padded out into the open. Fireheart waited, his heart pounding, to see if there were any more warriors with this patrol.
“You seem to be making WindClan territory your second home,” hissed Deadfoot.
Fireheart sniffed the air before answering. No more WindClan cats. They were evenly matched. “There’s no other way from the forest to the lands beyond,” he answered, keeping his voice calm. He didn’t want to provoke a fight, but he couldn’t forget the way he and Bluestar had been treated by Mudclaw before.
“Are you trying to travel to Highstones again?” Deadfoot narrowed his eyes. “Where’s Bluestar? Is she dead?”
Sandstorm arched her back and hissed furiously. “Bluestar is fine!”
“So what are you doing here?” snarled Mudclaw.
“Just passing through.” Cloudpaw’s fearless mew sounded puny next to the full-grown warriors, and Fireheart felt his muscles tense.
“I see it’s not just Fireheart who needs a lesson in respect!” growled Deadfoot.
Out of the corner of his eye Fireheart saw the black tom flick his tail. It was a signal to his Clanmates to attack. With a sinking heart, Fireheart realized they were going to have to fight. When Deadfoot leaped from the badger set onto his back, he rolled with him, falling to the ground and throwing the WindClan deputy off.
Deadfoot landed on his paws and turned back to Fireheart, hissing, “Neat move. But you’re slow, like all forest cats.” He lunged and Fireheart felt the deputy’s claws rake his ears as he ducked away.
“I’m fast enough,” he spat. He pushed down with his hind legs and flung himself at Deadfoot. The WindClan tom gasped as Fireheart knocked the breath from him, but he still managed to spin and land on his paws. Quick as an adder he struck back at Fireheart, and Fireheart hissed as the warrior slashed his nose. He retaliated, swinging a forepaw at Deadfoot and feeling a wave of satisfaction as his claws dug into the deputy’s fur. Now he had a firm hold on Deadfoot’s shoulder. Fireheart tightened his grip and swung himself up onto the black cat’s back, forcing his muzzle onto the hard ground.
As he held down the struggling deputy, Fireheart realized that Webpaw, the WindClan apprentice, had already fled. Sandstorm and Cloudpaw were fighting side by side to drive Mudclaw back into the heather, Sandstorm striking with her forepaws while Cloudpaw nipped at the warrior’s hind legs. With a final screech of fury Mudclaw turned and ran away.
“I’ll start showing respect when you’ve earned it,” Fireheart hissed into Deadfoot’s ear. He gave the WindClan deputy a sharp nip on the shoulder before releasing him. Deadfoot yowled with rage and raced into the heather.
“Come on, you two,” Fireheart called. “We’d better get going before they come back with more warriors.”
Sandstorm nodded, her face grim, but Cloudpaw was bouncing from paw to paw with excitement. “Did you see them run away?” he boasted. “Looks like I haven’t forgotten my training after all!”
“Shh!” growled Fireheart. “Let’s get out of here.” Cloudpaw fell silent, although his eyes still shone. The three cats raced side by side to the slope that led down into Fourtrees, out of WindClan territory.
“Did you see Cloudpaw fight?” Sandstorm whispered to Fireheart as they jumped from rock to rock.
“Just at the end, when he helped you drive off Mudclaw.”
“But before that?” meowed Sandstorm. Her voice, though quiet, was warm. “He saw that WindClan apprentice off in about three rabbit hops. The poor tabby was terrified.”
“Webpaw has probably just started training,” Fireheart suggested generously, feeling a glow of pride in his apprentice all the same.
“But Cloudpaw’s spent the last moon shut up in a Twoleg nest!” Sandstorm pointed out. “He’s completely out of shape, but still…” She paused. “I really think, once he’s been trained, that Cloudpaw will make a great warrior.”
Cloudpaw’s mew piped up from behind them. “Hey! Come on; admit it! I was pretty good, wasn’t I?”
“And once he’s learned a little humility!” Sandstorm added, her whiskers twitching with amusement.
Fireheart said nothing. Sandstorm’s faith in Cloudpaw pleased him more than he could say, but he couldn’t get rid of the niggling doubt that his nephew would ever truly understand the warrior code.
They traveled swiftly through the forest, which was ringing with birdsong and thick with tempting smells of prey. But there was no time to stop and hunt. Fireheart wanted to be back at camp. Anxiety pricked at his paws, a sense of foreboding that was heightened by the stifling heat. The storm was closing in like a giant cat, preparing to pounce and crush the forest between its mighty paws. Fireheart picked up speed as they neared the camp and crashed down the ravine at full pelt, praying that Tigerclaw had stayed away. He raced through the gorse entrance, leaving Sandstorm and Cloudpaw to follow wearily behind, and emerged, panting, in the clearing. With a rush of relief that left him weak, Fireheart saw that the camp looked just as he had left it.