As the den grew lighter, Willowpelt woke up. Fireheart watched as she rose and stretched, then pushed her way out of the den. He gave a last glance at Graystripe’s sleeping form, and followed her.
“It’s stopped snowing,” he meowed, desperate to break the ghostly silence that enfolded the snowbound camp. His voice echoed around the clearing, and Willowpelt nodded.
A rustling noise accompanied the scent of Tigerclaw and Runningwind as they emerged from the den. They settled themselves beside Willowpelt to wash. Ready for the dawn patrol, Fireheart thought. He wondered if he should offer to join them, since he could do with a run through the woods, but part of him wanted to stay behind and keep an eye on Graystripe. Spottedleaf’s words still lay heavy in his heart. He couldn’t shake off the idea that Graystripe was the warrior he could not trust. Graystripe insisted his relationship with Silverstream didn’t change his loyalty to the Clan, but how could it not? He was breaking the warrior code just by seeing her!
Suddenly Tigerclaw lifted his head as though he had smelled something. Fireheart tensed. His ears twitched—he could hear paws crunching through the snow in the distance, moving fast. The breeze carried the scent of WindClan. The pawsteps grew louder. As one, the warriors stiffened—a cat was rushing toward them through the gorse tunnel. Tigerclaw arched his back and hissed as Onewhisker burst into the clearing.
The WindClan warrior skidded to a halt in front of them, his eyes filled with dread. “ShadowClan and RiverClan!” he gasped. “They’re attacking our camp! We’re outnumbered and fighting for our lives. Tallstar refuses to be driven off this time. You must help or my Clan will be wiped out!”
Bluestar bounded out of her den. All eyes turned from Onewhisker to her. “I heard,” she meowed. Without mounting the Highrock, the ThunderClan leader gave the yowl she used to call the Clan together. Onewhisker’s fear-scent filled the clearing as he watched the cats emerge into the morning light.
As soon as the Clan had gathered, Bluestar began. “There’s no time to waste. It’s as we feared—ShadowClan and RiverClan have joined together, and now they’re attacking the WindClan camp. We must help them.” She paused and looked around at the faces staring back at her in dismay. Onewhisker stood beside her, listening silently with wide, hopeful eyes.
Fireheart was appalled. After the rogue cats had been discovered, he’d thought Nightstar could be trusted. Now it seemed the ShadowClan leader had broken the warrior code after all by uniting with RiverClan to drive WindClan from their home yet again.
“But we are leaf-bare–weak!” protested Patchpelt. “We’ve taken a risk for WindClan once before. Let them take care of themselves this time.” A few murmurs of agreement rose from the elders and queens.
It was Tigerclaw who answered him, stepping forward to stand beside Bluestar. “You’re right to be cautious, Patchpelt. But if ShadowClan and RiverClan have united, it is only a matter of time before they turn on us. It’s better we fight now, with WindClan, than later, alone!”
Bluestar looked at Patchpelt, who closed his eyes and lifted his tail, accepting Tigerclaw’s words.
Yellowfang pushed her way forward and spoke quietly to the leader. “I think you should remain behind in camp, Bluestar. The fever from the greencough may have gone, but you’ll still be weak.” The two cats exchanged a look that Fireheart understood with a jolt. Bluestar was on her ninth and final life. For the sake of the Clan, she could not afford to risk it in battle.
Bluestar nodded briskly. “Tigerclaw, I want you to organize two parties, one to head the attack, one to back it up. We need to get there as fast as we can!”
“Yes, Bluestar.” Tigerclaw turned to the warriors. “Whitestorm, you’ll head the second party; I’ll head the first. I’ll take Darkstripe, Mousefur, Longtail, Dustpelt, and Fireheart.” Fireheart lifted his head as Tigerclaw called his name, feeling a thrill run through him. He was to join the lead party!
“You!” Tigerclaw called to Onewhisker. “What’s your name?” The WindClan warrior looked startled by Tigerclaw’s tone.
Fireheart answered for him. “Onewhisker,” he meowed.
Tigerclaw nodded, barely pausing to look at Fireheart. “Onewhisker, you’ll be in my party. The rest of the ThunderClan warriors will join Whitestorm. You too, Brackenpaw.”
“Are we all ready?” called Tigerclaw. The warriors raised their heads and let out a battle cry. Tigerclaw charged for the gorse tunnel and they raced after him.
Up the ravine they climbed, into the forest. They were heading for Fourtrees and the uplands beyond. Fireheart glanced over his shoulder as he ran through the trees. Graystripe was near the back, his face grim, his eyes staring blankly ahead. Fireheart wondered if Silverstream would be at the battle. Fireheart felt a pang of sorrow for his friend, but this time he had no doubts about his own readiness to fight. After bringing WindClan home, he couldn’t help feeling responsible for them. He would not let any Clan drive them back to those Thunderpath tunnels.
Spottedleaf’s fragrance filled his nostrils once more, and Fireheart’s fur prickled. “Beware a warrior you cannot trust!” This was going to be a difficult battle in more ways than one. Graystripe would have no choice about proving his loyalty now.
Even though the snow had stopped falling, it was hard work getting through the drifts. An icy crust had formed over the top of the snow, but the warriors were heavy enough to break through and sink into the softer snow underneath.
“Tigerclaw!” Willowpelt’s yowl sounded from the rear. The deputy halted and turned.
“We’re being followed!” Willowpelt called.
Her words sent a quiver of alarm through Fireheart. Had they run into a trap? Quietly the patrol retraced its pawsteps, alert and suspicious. A snow-laden branch creaked above, making Brackenpaw jump.
“Wait,” hissed Tigerclaw.
The cats crouched in the deep snow. Fireheart could hear the noise of pawsteps heading toward them. They sounded light, like small paws stepping delicately over the top of the ice crust. With a sinking heart, Fireheart guessed who it was a heartbeat before Cloudkit and Brindleface’s two kits appeared from behind a log.
Tigerclaw reared up at them and the kits squealed in fright. The warrior recognized them instantly and dropped down onto all four paws. “What are you doing here!” he spat.
“We wanted to join the battle,” mewed Cloudkit. Fireheart winced.
“Fireheart!” called Tigerclaw. Fireheart hurried forward, and the dark warrior spat impatiently, “You brought this kit into the Clan; you deal with it.”
Fireheart looked into Tigerclaw’s blazing eyes. He knew that the deputy was trying to force him to choose: Fireheart could either join the battle party and fight for the Clan or take care of his kittypet kin. The whole patrol waited in silence for Fireheart to speak.
Fireheart knew he would choose to fight for the Clan, but he couldn’t sacrifice his sister’s kit. Cloudkit and the others must be taken home safely by another cat. But which warrior could the raiding party do without?
“Brackenpaw,” Fireheart called to Graystripe’s apprentice. “Please take these kits home!” Fireheart waited for Graystripe to object, but the gray warrior remained silent as Fireheart ordered his apprentice back to camp.
Brackenpaw’s tail drooped and Fireheart felt a stab of guilt. “There’ll be plenty more battles for you to fight,” he promised.
“But, Fireheart, you said one day we’d fight side by side!” Cloudkit’s protest rang through the trees. Tigerclaw shot Fireheart a mocking look. Fireheart felt his fur prickle uncomfortably as amusement rippled through the patrol at the tiny kit’s words. But he refused to show his embarrassment. “One day we will,” he meowed. “But not today!”
The white kit’s shoulders sagged and Fireheart let out a sigh of relief as he watched Cloudkit reluctantly join the other kits following Brackenpaw back to the camp.
“I’m surprised by your choice, Fireheart,” Tigerclaw sneered. “I didn’t expect you to be so keen to fight this battle.”
Fireheart stared at Tigerclaw and felt the blood pulse through him, so that his whole body throbbed with rage. “If only you were keen too!” he retorted. “You’d give the battle cry instead of keeping us here while WindClan warriors die!”
Tigerclaw flashed him a look of loathing, threw back his head, and yowled to the sky before charging on toward the WindClan camp. Fireheart and the others raced after him, past Fourtrees to the steep slope that led to the uplands. They bounded up, their paws made noiseless by the snow.
When they reached the top, Fireheart was battered by a howling wind that turned his ears inside out. The WindClan hunting grounds looked more barren than ever, the gorse hidden by a layer of snow.
“Fireheart! You know the way to the WindClan camp!” yowled Tigerclaw above the wind. “Lead us there.” He slowed to let Fireheart pass. Fireheart wondered if the deputy didn’t trust Onewhisker enough to let the WindClan warrior guide them. He looked back at Graystripe, hoping for some help, but the gray warrior had his head bowed low and his shoulders hunched miserably as the wind buffeted his thick fur. There would be little help there. Fireheart turned his eyes to StarClan and sent up a prayer for guidance.
He was surprised to find that he recognized the shape of the land even beneath the snow. There was the badger set and the rock Graystripe had climbed to get a better view. He followed the contours he remembered from his journey with Graystripe until he reached the dip in the land that marked the WindClan camp.
Fireheart paused at the rim of the hollow. “Down there!” he yowled. For a heartbeat the wind dropped, and from below they heard the sounds of battle—screams and howls as cat furiously fought with cat.