In the following days, Fireheart struggled against the urge to visit his sister. His yearning to be with his kittypet kin was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable. He kept himself busy hunting in the snowy forests, replenishing the camp store.
He had had a successful hunt this afternoon, returning to camp with two mice and a chaffinch as the sun dipped behind the trees. He buried the mice in the snow store and took the chaffinch for his own supper.
As he finished his meal, he noticed Whitestorm padding toward him. “I want you to take Sandpaw out on the dawn patrol,” the great white warrior meowed. “ShadowClan has been scented as close as the Owl Tree.”
“ShadowClan?” Fireheart echoed in alarm. Perhaps Tigerclaw really had found evidence of an invasion after all. “I was planning to take Brackenpaw out again tomorrow.”
“Isn’t Graystripe better now?” asked Whitestorm. “He can take Brackenpaw.”
Of course! thought Fireheart. And perhaps training his apprentice would keep Graystripe away from Silverstream for once. But that meant he would have to go on patrol with Sandpaw. And Fireheart couldn’t help thinking of the furious look Sandpaw had given him when he’d interrupted her fight with the RiverClan warrior beside the gorge. “Just me and Sandpaw?” he asked.
Whitestorm looked at him in surprise. “Sandpaw’s almost a warrior, and you can take care of yourself,” he replied.
Whitestorm had misunderstood Fireheart’s concern. He wasn’t afraid of being attacked by enemy cats; he was afraid Sandpaw hated him as much as Dustpaw did. But Fireheart didn’t correct him. “Does Sandpaw know?”
“You can tell her,” meowed Whitestorm.
Fireheart’s ear twitched. He didn’t think Sandpaw would be too thrilled by the idea of patrolling with him, but he didn’t argue.
Whitestorm nodded briefly and bounded away toward the warriors’ den. Fireheart sighed and padded over to where Sandpaw was sitting with the other apprentices.
“Sandpaw.” Fireheart shifted uneasily. “Whitestorm wants you to patrol with me at dawn tomorrow.”
He waited for a resentful hiss, but Sandpaw merely looked up at him and meowed, “Fine.” Even Dustpaw looked surprised.
“O-okay,” echoed Fireheart, taken aback. “Meet you at sunrise then.”
“Sunrise,” agreed Sandpaw.
Fireheart decided to share the good news about Sandpaw’s lack of hostility with Graystripe. It might be a chance for them to start talking to each other again. Graystripe was sharing tongues with Runningwind by the clump of nettles.
“Hi, Fireheart,” Runningwind meowed as Fireheart approached.
“Hi.” Fireheart looked expectantly at Graystripe. But Graystripe had turned his head away and was staring at the boundary wall. Fireheart’s heart sank. He dropped his head and turned back toward his nest. He couldn’t wait to be out on patrol tomorrow and away from the camp.
The sky glowed palest pink above Fireheart’s head as he pushed his way out of the den the next morning.
Sandpaw was waiting for him outside the gorse tunnel.
“Er, hi,” Fireheart meowed, feeling a bit awkward.
“Hi,” Sandpaw answered quietly.
Fireheart sat down. “Let’s wait for the night patrol to get back,” he suggested.
They sat in silence until they heard the familiar rustle of bushes heralding the return of Whitestorm, Longtail, and Mousefur.
“Any sign of ShadowClan?” Fireheart asked.
“We definitely picked up some ShadowClan scents,” answered Whitestorm grimly.
“It’s strange,” meowed Mousefur, frowning. “It’s always the same group of scents. ShadowClan must be sending the same warriors each time.”
“You two had better check out the RiverClan border,” suggested Whitestorm. “We didn’t get a chance to patrol there. Be careful, and remember, you don’t want to start a fight. You’re just looking for signs they’ve been hunting on our land again.”
“Yes, Whitestorm,” meowed Fireheart. Sandpaw nodded respectfully.
Fireheart led the way. “We’ll start at Fourtrees and work our way along the border to Tallpines,” he meowed as they climbed out of the camp ravine.
“Sounds good,” replied Sandpaw. “I’ve never seen Fourtrees in the snow.” Fireheart listened for sarcasm in her voice, but she seemed to be sincere.
They reached the top of the ravine. “Which way now?” Fireheart decided to test her.
“Do you think I don’t know the way to Fourtrees?” Sandpaw protested. Fireheart began to regret acting like a mentor until he noticed a good-humored gleam in her eyes. She charged away through the woods without another word, and Fireheart pelted after her.
It felt good to be running through the woods with another cat again. He had to admit Sandpaw was fast. She was still two fox-lengths ahead when she leaped over the trunk of a fallen tree and disappeared.
Fireheart followed, taking the tree in a single bound. As he landed on the other side, something hit him from behind. He skidded in the snow, rolled over, and sprang to his paws.
Sandpaw faced him, her whiskers twitching. “Surprise!”
Fireheart hissed playfully and leaped on top of her. He was impressed by Sandpaw’s strength, but he had the advantage of size. When he finally held her down in the snow, she protested, “Get off, you great lump!”
“Okay, okay,” meowed Fireheart, letting go of her. “But you asked for it!”
Sandpaw sat up, her orange coat dusted with snow. “You look like you’ve been caught in a snowstorm!” she mewed.
“So do you.” They both shook the flakes from their fur. “Come on,” Fireheart meowed. “We’d better get a move on.”
They raced side by side, as far as Fourtrees. By the time they reached the top of the slope that overlooked the valley, the sky was milky blue. Pale sunlight lit up the snowy hollow. The four bare oaks stood below them, glittering with frost.
Sandpaw stared down, her eyes wide. Fireheart waited, touched by her enthusiasm, until she turned to leave.
“I didn’t know the snow would make everything look so different,” she mewed as they began to follow the RiverClan border toward the river. Fireheart nodded in agreement.
Their pace was slower as they traveled in silence along the line of scent markers, alert for any fresh smells of RiverClan this side of the border. Fireheart paused every few trees to leave a new ThunderClan scent mark.
Suddenly Sandpaw stopped dead. “Fancy a little fresh-kill?” she whispered. Fireheart nodded. The apprentice dropped into a hunting crouch and pulled herself forward through the snow, one slow pawstep after another. Fireheart followed her gaze and saw a young rabbit hopping underneath some brambles. With a quick hiss, Sandpaw pounced, diving into the brambles and pinning the rabbit down with a strong forepaw. In one smooth movement she pulled it toward her to finish it off.
Fireheart bounded over. “Great catch, Sandpaw!”
Sandpaw looked pleased. She dropped the warm fresh-kill to the ground. “Share?”
“Thanks!”
“That’s one of the best things about patrols,” remarked Sandpaw between mouthfuls.
“What?” Fireheart asked.
“You can eat what you catch instead of having to take it back to the Clan,” Sandpaw replied. “I don’t know how many hunting missions I’ve nearly starved on!”
Fireheart purred with amusement.
They set off once more, skirting Sunningrocks to follow the trail into the woods again, close to the RiverClan border. As they reached the top of the bracken-covered slope above the river, Fireheart sent a silent prayer to StarClan that they wouldn’t find Graystripe here.
“Look!” meowed Sandpaw suddenly. Her body stiffened with excitement. “The river—it’s frozen.”
Fireheart’s heart lurched as he remembered Cinderpaw saying the same words before Graystripe’s accident. “We’re not going down to look!” he meowed firmly.
“We don’t have to. You can see from here. Let’s get back and tell the Clan.”
“Why?” Fireheart couldn’t understand Sandpaw’s excitement.
“A patrol of our warriors could cross the river now!” Sandpaw meowed. “We can invade RiverClan’s territory and steal back some of the prey they’ve taken from us.”
Fireheart felt a cold chill ripple the fur on his spine. What would Graystripe think about that? And could Fireheart bring himself to go into battle against the starving RiverClan?
Sandpaw circled him impatiently. “Are you coming?”
“Yes,” replied Fireheart heavily. He leaped after Sandpaw as she raced off into the woods, back to camp.
Sandpaw tore through the gorse tunnel just ahead of Fireheart. Tigerclaw glanced up as they skidded to a halt in the clearing.
Fireheart heard a noise behind him. Graystripe was padding through the camp entrance with Brackenpaw.
A call sounded from below the Highrock. “Fireheart, Sandpaw, how was your patrol?”
Fireheart felt a flood of relief when he saw Bluestar looking like her normal self, sitting with her chin high and her tail tucked over her front paws.
Sandpaw bounded over to the Highrock. “The river’s frozen,” she burst out. “We could cross it easily right now!”
Bluestar gazed thoughtfully at the apprentice. Fireheart flinched when he saw the ThunderClan leader’s eyes gleam. “Thank you, Sandpaw,” she meowed.
Fireheart leaned over and murmured into Sandpaw’s ear, “Come on, let’s tell the others.” He guessed that Bluestar would want to discuss the frozen river with her senior warriors.
Sandpaw glanced at him, understanding, and followed him back to the center of the clearing. “This has been such a great day!” she meowed. Fireheart just nodded and glanced anxiously at Graystripe.
“You two look like you had fun!” Dustpaw had emerged from the apprentices’ den. “Drowned another RiverClan cat?” he sneered at Fireheart.
Dustpaw looked at Sandpaw expectantly. Fireheart guessed he was waiting for her to agree with him, like she used to, but Sandpaw wasn’t listening. Fireheart felt a small prickle of satisfaction at the irritated look on Dustpaw’s face as she meowed breathlessly, “We found out that the river’s frozen. I think Bluestar’s planning a raid on RiverClan!”
At that moment their leader’s call sounded from the Highrock, and the Clan began to gather in the clearing. The sun had reached its high point, which in leaf-bare meant that it was barely above the treetops.
“Sandpaw and Fireheart have brought good news. The river is frozen over,” Bluestar announced. “We will take this opportunity to make a raid on RiverClan’s hunting grounds, to send the message that they must stop stealing our prey. Our warriors will track down one of their patrols and give them a warning that they’ll remember for a long time!”
Fireheart winced as he remembered what Silverstream had told him about her starving Clan. Around him, the other cats raised their voices in eager yowls. Fireheart had not heard the Clan this excited for many moons.
“Tigerclaw!” Bluestar called above the din. “Are our warriors fit enough for a raid on RiverClan?”
Tigerclaw nodded.
“Excellent.” Bluestar lifted her tail. “Then we shall leave at sunset.” The Clan yowled with delight. Fireheart’s paws prickled. Was Bluestar going too? Surely she wouldn’t risk her last life on a border raid?
Fireheart looked over his shoulder at Graystripe. He was staring up at the Highrock, the tip of his tail twitching nervously. As the yowls died away, Graystripe called out, “It feels warmer today. A thaw would make the ice too dangerous to cross.”
Fireheart held his breath as the other cats turned to look curiously at Graystripe.
Tigerclaw stared down at Graystripe, his amber eyes puzzled. “You’re not usually reluctant to fight,” the dark warrior meowed slowly.
Darkstripe craned his neck and added, “Yes, Graystripe—you’re not afraid of those RiverClan fleabags, are you?”
Graystripe fidgeted uncomfortably as the Clan waited for an answer.
“Looks like he’s scared!” hissed Dustpaw from Sandpaw’s side.
Fireheart’s tail flicked angrily, but he managed to keep his voice light as he called, “Yes, of getting his paws wet! Graystripe’s fallen through the ice once this leaf-bare; he’s not keen to do it again.”
The tension in the Clan dissolved into amused purrs. Graystripe looked down at the ground, his ears flat. Only Tigerclaw kept his suspicious frown.
Bluestar waited until the murmurings had died away. “I must discuss the raid with my senior warriors.” She leaped down from the Highrock, landing so lightly that it was hard to believe that she had been fighting for her lives just days ago. Tigerclaw, Whitestorm, and Willowpelt followed her to her den, and the rest of the Clan broke away into groups to discuss the proposed attack.
“I suppose you expect me to thank you for embarrassing me!” Fireheart heard Graystripe’s angry hiss in his ear.
“Not at all,” he snapped. “But you could at least be grateful I’m still covering up for you!” He bounded away to the edge of the clearing, his fur bristling with fury.
Sandpaw ran over to join him. “It’s about time we showed those RiverClan cats that they can’t hunt in our territory whenever they like,” she meowed, her eyes shining.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Fireheart answered absently. He couldn’t take his eyes off Graystripe. Was he imagining it, or was the gray warrior edging farther and farther toward the nursery? Was Graystripe planning on slipping away to warn Silverstream?
Fireheart got slowly to his paws and began to pad toward the nursery. Graystripe glared at Fireheart as he approached, but before either warrior could speak, Bluestar’s call sounded once more from the Highrock. Fireheart stopped where he was but didn’t take his eyes off Graystripe.
“Willowpelt agrees with young Graystripe,” Bluestar declared. “A thaw is on the way.” Graystripe lifted his chin and flashed a defiant look at Fireheart, but Fireheart didn’t care. Bluestar was going to call off the raid! Now Graystripe wouldn’t have to choose between his Clan and Silverstream, and Fireheart wouldn’t have to join a raiding party against a Clan he knew was already suffering.
But Bluestar hadn’t finished. “So we will attack at once!”
Fireheart glanced sideways—Graystripe’s look of triumph had turned to one of sheer horror.
Bluestar continued, “We will leave a patrol of warriors here to guard the camp. We have to remember the possible threat from ShadowClan. Five warriors will make the raid. I will remain here.”
Good, thought Fireheart. She wasn’t planning to risk her final life after all. “Tigerclaw will lead the raiding party. Darkstripe, Willowpelt, and Longtail will go with him. That leaves one more place.”
“Can I go?” Fireheart burst out. Even though his heart felt heavy at the thought of attacking hungry RiverClan cats, it meant that Graystripe wouldn’t have to make a choice.
“Thank you, Fireheart. You may join the patrol.” Bluestar was clearly pleased by her former apprentice’s eagerness. Tigerclaw didn’t look so happy. He narrowed his eyes at Fireheart, gazing at him with undisguised suspicion. “There’s no time to lose,” Bluestar yowled. “I can smell the warm winds myself. Tigerclaw will brief you as you travel. Go now!”
Darkstripe, Longtail, and Willowpelt sped after Tigerclaw. Fireheart followed them as they thundered through the gorse tunnel and headed up the ravine, toward RiverClan territory.
They charged past Sunningrocks and reached the enemy border as the low leaf-bare sun began to dip toward the forest. Fireheart sniffed the air—Graystripe and Willowpelt had been right; he could smell warmer winds, and rain clouds were already pushing in over the treetops.
As they raced down the slope toward the river, Fireheart felt a deep sense of disquiet. Silverstream’s desperate story rang in his ears, and he fought to push away his feelings of sympathy.
The ThunderClan warriors emerged from the bracken and skidded to a stop at the edge of the river. The sight that greeted them made Fireheart weak with relief. The shining sheet of ice that Fireheart had seen earlier with Sandpaw had broken up into a rushing flow of cold, black water.