“Another day of sunshine!” Fireheart purred to Graystripe, feeling his flame-colored pelt glow in the weak morning sun. Thanks to the fine weather, he had visited Princess nearly every day recently, slipping away to see her between patrols, hunting, and training sessions. Now he walked with his friend along the short trail to the sandy hollow where Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw would be waiting.
“Let’s hope it stays clear for the rest of leaf-bare,” Graystripe meowed. Fireheart knew how much his thick-coated friend hated rain—when Graystripe’s fur got wet, it clung to him and stayed damp long after Fireheart’s shorter fur had dried off.
The two warriors arrived at the edge of the hollow just as Cinderpaw pounced on a pile of frosty leaves, sending them flying in all directions. She leaped and twisted to catch one as it fluttered back to the ground.
Fireheart and Graystripe glanced at each other, amused.
“At least Cinderpaw will be warmed up and ready for today’s assignment,” Graystripe observed.
Brackenpaw jumped to his paws and looked up at his mentor, his eyes wide. “Good morning, Graystripe,” he meowed. “What is today’s assignment?”
“A hunting mission,” Graystripe told him. He padded down into the hollow, followed by Fireheart.
“Where?” mewed Cinderpaw, dashing toward them. “What are we going to catch?”
“We’re going to Sunningrocks,” Fireheart replied, suddenly sharing her enthusiasm. “And we’ll catch whatever we can.”
“I’d like to catch a vole,” declared Cinderpaw. “I’ve never tasted vole.”
“I’m afraid everything we catch today goes straight back to the elders,” Graystripe warned. “But I’m sure if you asked one of them nicely, they’d be happy to share.”
“Okay,” mewed Cinderpaw. “Which way is Sunningrocks?” She bounded up one side of the hollow and peered into the forest, her tail sticking straight up.
“This way!” meowed Fireheart, leaping up the opposite side.
“Okay.” Cinderpaw raced down the slope, across the hollow, and up to Fireheart’s side, sending fallen leaves flying everywhere.
Graystripe leaped up and caught one as it drifted past his nose. He pinned it to the ground with a purr of satisfaction and saw Brackenpaw staring at him. “Er, never miss a chance to practice your hunting skills,” Graystripe told him quickly.
The four cats made their way along the familiar scent trails to Sunningrocks. The sun was above the trees by the time they emerged into open territory. Ahead of them, a slope of rock rose out of the soft earth, its smooth surface lined with cracks. The cats had to narrow their eyes as they looked at it. After the shade of the woods, the flat rock face reflected the sun with dazzling glare.
“This is Sunningrocks,” Fireheart announced, blinking. “Come on!”
“Mrrrrr! It feels nice!” mewed Cinderpaw as she raced up the stone slope behind him. Fireheart realized she was right. The stone felt comfortingly warm and smooth after the ice-cold forest floor.
They rested at the top, where the far side fell away steeply to the forest. Fireheart listened for the gentle bubbling of the river that followed the RiverClan border, flowing down from the uplands. It touched the Sunningrocks before turning to run deeper into RiverClan territory. He could barely hear it—perhaps the water was low after the dry weather.
Fireheart stretched out, enjoying the warmth of the rock beneath him and the soft heat of the sun on his pelt. He closed his eyes, feeling proud to be lying here, a place where generations of ThunderClan cats had come to warm themselves, and which they had battled hard to keep.
Graystripe joined him. “Come on,” he meowed to the two apprentices. “Make the most of the sun while it’s here. There are enough cold, damp days ahead of us.” The two apprentices lay down beside their mentors and purred as the warmth seeped into their fur.
“Is this where Redtail died?” asked Brackenpaw.
“Yes,” Fireheart answered cautiously.
“And where Tigerclaw avenged his death by killing Oakheart?” Cinderpaw piped up.
Fireheart’s fur prickled as he remembered Ravenpaw’s account of the fight—that Redtail had been responsible for Oakheart’s death and then Tigerclaw had killed Redtail, the deputy of his own Clan. Fireheart pushed away the disturbing thoughts and replied simply, “This is the place.” The two apprentices fell silent and looked down the slope in awe.
Suddenly Fireheart heard a noise. He pricked his ears. “Hush,” he hissed. “What can you hear?”
The two apprentices strained their ears forward.
“I think I can hear some scrabbling,” Brackenpaw whispered.
“It might be a vole,” murmured Graystripe. “Can you tell where it’s coming from?”
“Over there!” mewed Cinderpaw, leaping to her paws. The scrabbling noise became more furious and then disappeared.
“I think it heard you,” Fireheart remarked. Cinderpaw looked crestfallen. Brackenpaw purred with amusement at his sister’s clumsiness.
“Never mind,” meowed Graystripe. “Now you know that it’s better to creep up slowly, especially on voles. They’re fast!”
“Sit still and listen,” Fireheart advised. “Next time we hear something, work out where it is and then begin to move toward it very slowly. A mouse could probably hear even the rustling of your fur, so let him think it’s just the wind blowing across the rock.”
The cats remained where they were, no one daring to move until they heard the scrabbling sound again. His ears pricked, Fireheart rose and crept forward, placing each paw noiselessly in front of the other until he reached the edge of a small crack that ran across the rock face. He paused. The scrabbling noise continued. Fireheart lunged forward and reached down into the crack with a forepaw. He scooped out a fat vole that had been hiding in the shadows and flung it onto the bright stone. It squealed as it landed, but the hard ground stunned it and Fireheart finished it off quickly.
“Wow!” mewed Cinderpaw. “I want to do that!”
“Don’t worry; you’ll have plenty of chances. For now, let’s get back to the forest,” meowed Graystripe.
“Aren’t we going to catch anything else?” Cinderpaw protested.
“Did you hear that vole squeal?” meowed Fireheart. Cinderpaw nodded. “Well, so did every other creature around here. The prey will be hiding for a while. I should have caught it and killed it before it could make a sound.”
Graystripe’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “I wasn’t going to say a word,” he purred.
Fireheart picked up the dead vole in his mouth, and together the cats headed down the slope and began to trek onward through the forest. After the open warmth of Sunningrocks, the woods seemed chilly, even though sunhigh was approaching. Fireheart smelled fresh markers at the RiverClan border. Beyond them the ground sloped down to meet the river.
A leaf fluttered down toward Brackenpaw. The young cat immediately leaped up and caught it between his paws. He landed, looking pleased with himself.
“Well done!” called Graystripe. “You’ll have no trouble with voles!” Brackenpaw looked doubly pleased.
“Nice catch, Brackenpaw!” Cinderpaw mewed. She nudged her brother’s shoulder with her nose before turning to stare down the wooded slope.
“The river’s quiet today,” Fireheart mumbled through his mouthful of vole.
“That’s because it’s frozen,” mewed Cinderpaw excitedly. “I can see it through the trees!”
Fireheart dropped the vole. “Frozen? Completely?” He stared down the wooded slope. The river glittered at the bottom, frosty and still. Could Cinderpaw be right? Fireheart’s paws tingled with excitement. He had never seen the river frozen over.
“Can we have a look?” asked Cinderpaw. Without waiting for an answer, she bounded past the scent markers. Fireheart’s excitement turned to panic as he saw the small gray cat disappear into RiverClan territory. He couldn’t call after her—he didn’t want to alert any RiverClan patrols that might be in the area. But he had to get her back. He left the vole where he’d dropped it and tore after her, Graystripe and Brackenpaw close behind him.
They caught up with Cinderpaw at the edge of the river. It was almost totally frozen, apart from a narrow channel of dark water that flowed swiftly between two wide fringes of ice. Fireheart remembered Whiteclaw with a shudder. He was about to suggest they leave when he noticed Graystripe’s ears were pricked.
“Water vole,” the gray warrior hissed. Sure enough, a small vole was scampering along the ice, near the bank.
Fireheart glanced at Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw, afraid that they might try to catch this tiny piece of prey. But neither apprentice moved. Fireheart felt relieved for a moment, and then his heart lurched as Graystripe dashed out onto the ice at hunting speed.
“Come back!” Fireheart hissed.
It was too late. The ice beneath Graystripe’s paws gave a terrifying crack and broke. With a startled yowl, Graystripe fell into the water. He paddled madly for a moment before disappearing into the cold, dark depths of the river.
Brackenpaw stared in horror and Cinderpaw gave a desperate mew. Fireheart didn’t quiet her. He was rigid with fear, staring into the water after his friend. Was Graystripe trapped underneath the ice? Fireheart stepped onto the ice. It felt cold and slippery beneath his paws, impossible to run on. He jumped back onto the bank. Panic gripped him, then a blaze of relief as a drenched gray head appeared in the water farther along.
But relief turned to alarm as Fireheart saw that Graystripe was being carried downriver, turning and bobbing in the freezing waters. His paws thrashed helplessly, all his instincts to swim thwarted by the fierce current. Fireheart bounded along the bank, forcing his way through the bracken, but Graystripe was swept farther and farther away.
Suddenly Fireheart heard a yowl from the opposite bank and stopped. A slender silver tabby had leaped onto the ice farther downstream. She padded lightly over the frozen sheet and slid into the river ahead of Graystripe. Amazed, Fireheart watched the she-cat swim strongly against the current, holding her position in the icy water with confident churning paws. As Graystripe was swept past, the tabby grabbed a mouthful of his fur between her teeth.
But to Fireheart’s horror, Graystripe’s weight pulled both cats under. He started running again, his eyes fixed on the river. Where were they? Then a silver-striped head appeared amid the rolling waters, pushing through the waves. The tabby was swimming against the current, dragging Graystripe with her. Fireheart could hardly believe that such a slender cat could swim with such a weight. The tabby grabbed the ice on Fireheart’s side of the river with her forepaws, her neck craning awkwardly as she held Graystripe between her teeth. Slipping and sliding, she hauled herself out of the river. Graystripe hung limply in the water, twisting and turning as the current dragged at his fur, but the tabby kept a firm grip.
Fireheart slid down the bank, raced across the ice, and skidded to a halt beside her. Without a word he reached forward and took hold of Graystripe in his teeth. Together the two cats heaved his soaking body out of the water and dragged him to the safety of the riverbank.
Fireheart bent over his friend to see if he was breathing. He felt dizzy with relief as he saw Graystripe’s slick gray flank rising and falling. Graystripe coughed and spluttered and spat out a mouthful of river water. Then he lay still.
“Graystripe!” Fireheart meowed urgently.
“I’m okay,” wheezed Graystripe. His mew was breathless, but reassuring.
Fireheart sighed and sat down. He looked closely at the silver tabby. She carried the scent of RiverClan on her. After seeing her swim, Fireheart wasn’t surprised. The tabby returned his gaze coldly, shook herself, and sat down, her sides heaving as she got her breath back. Water streamed from her glossy fur as if her pelt were made from duck feathers.
Graystripe turned his head and looked at his rescuer. “Thanks,” he croaked.
“You idiot!” she spat, flattening her ears. “What are you doing in my territory?”
“Drowning?” replied Graystripe.
The silver tabby flicked her ears, and Fireheart saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Can’t you drown yourself in your own territory?”
Graystripe’s whiskers twitched. “Ah, but who would rescue me there?” he rasped.
There was a tiny mew behind Fireheart. He turned to see Cinderpaw crouching by a clump of grass farther up the bank. “Where’s Brackenpaw?” he asked.
“Just coming,” answered Cinderpaw, pointing with her nose. Her brother was creeping nervously along the bank toward them.
Fireheart sighed and turned to his friend. “Look, Graystripe, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“I know.” Graystripe pushed himself to his paws and turned to the silver tabby. “Thanks again.”
She dipped her head graciously, but hissed, “Hurry, go now!” She looked over her shoulder. “If my father knew that I’d rescued a ThunderClan intruder he’d shred me for kit bedding!”
“Why’d you save me then?” teased Graystripe.
The tabby looked away. “Instinct. I couldn’t watch any cat drown. Now go away!”
Fireheart stood up. “Thanks. I’d have missed this furball if he’d drowned.” He nudged Graystripe. His friend hadn’t even shaken the icy water from his fur and he was soaked to the skin. “Come on, let’s get back to camp. You’re freezing!”
“Okay, I’m coming!” Graystripe meowed. But before he followed Fireheart up the slope, he turned back to the silver she-cat. “What’s your name? Mine’s Graystripe.”
“Silverstream,” she replied, and bounded away, back onto the ice and over the channel of water to the far side.
Fireheart and Graystripe led their apprentices through the bracken, toward the border. Fireheart couldn’t help noticing that Graystripe looked back over his shoulder more than once.
Cinderpaw noticed too. The little gray cat glanced up, mischief dancing in her eyes. “What a pretty RiverClan cat she was!”
Graystripe gave her a playful cuff around the ear and she ran on ahead.
“Stay with us,” Fireheart warned in a loud hiss. They were still in RiverClan territory. He flashed Cinderpaw an angry look as she stopped and waited for them. If it weren’t for her, they wouldn’t be here at all, and Graystripe wouldn’t have nearly drowned. He looked at his wet friend. Even though the gray warrior had shaken as much of the water from his fur as he could, his coat was still dripping and ice was beginning to form on the ends of his whiskers.
Fireheart quickened the pace. “Are you okay?” he asked Graystripe.
“F-f-fine!” replied Graystripe, through chattering teeth.
“Sorry,” mewed Cinderpaw softly as she fell into step behind Fireheart.
He sighed. “It’s not your fault.” He felt weighed down with worry. How were they going to explain this to the Clan? No fresh-kill for the elders—there wasn’t time to go back for the vole now—and a soaked Graystripe. Fireheart shuddered as he thought how close he had come to losing his closest friend. Thank StarClan that Silverstream had been there to save him.
“The stream near the training hollow is still running with water,” Brackenpaw meowed thoughtfully from the back.
“What?” asked Fireheart, puzzled out of his gloomy thoughts.
“The Clan will probably assume that Graystripe fell in there,” continued the young apprentice.
“We could say he was showing us how to catch fish,” Cinderpaw added.
“I’m not sure any cat would believe Graystripe would get his paws wet on purpose in this weather,” Fireheart pointed out.
“Well, I don’t want the rest of the Clan to know I had to be rescued by a RiverClan cat!” meowed Graystripe with a flash of his old spirit. “And we can’t let them know we were in RiverClan’s territory again.”
Fireheart nodded. “Come on,” he meowed. “Let’s run the rest of the way; it’ll help Graystripe warm up.”
The cats raced across the RiverClan border and past Sunningrocks. As the sun began to dip behind the treetops, they arrived back outside the camp.
Graystripe’s fur had dried a little, but frozen droplets hung on his whiskers and tail.
Fireheart led the way through the gorse entrance. His heart sank when he saw Tigerclaw sitting in the clearing watching them.
The deputy fixed his sharp eyes on Fireheart. “No fresh-kill?” he growled. “I thought you were meant to be teaching these two how to hunt today. You look half-drowned, Graystripe. You must have fallen into a river to get that wet.” His nostrils flared and he drew himself up to his full height. “Don’t tell me you’ve been into RiverClan territory again!”