Warriors 04 - Rising Storm (8 page)

The noise of the Thunderpath hummed like sleepy bees in the distance. The ShadowClan cats seemed to be following a trail that ran parallel with the stinking stone path. Their scent led Fireheart and Sandstorm out of the cover of the forest ferns and onto a bare patch of ground. Just ahead, the ShadowClan cats had crossed the scentline that marked the border between the two territories and were ducking into a clump of brambles, unaware of their ThunderClan shadows.

Sandstorm narrowed her eyes. “Why are they going in there?”

“Let's find out,” Fireheart replied. He hurried forward, swallowing a prickle of fear as he crossed the scentline. The rumble of the Thunderpath had grown much louder, and his ears twitched uncomfortably at the bruising din.

The ThunderClan warriors picked their way through the barbed stems. Fireheart was painfully aware they were on hostile territory now, but he had to be sure that the ShadowClan cats were returning to their camp. By the sound of it, the Thunderpath was only a few foxlengths in front of them now, and the scent of the sick cats was almost drowned by its fumes.

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.

“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.”

Without giving the young cat a chance to object, Fireheart
raced out of the camp. He heard Cloudpaw's pawsteps thumping after him, but he didn't look back or slow his pace until he reached the sheltered hollow where he had trained as an apprentice. He stopped in the middle of the sandy clearing. The air was so still that, even in the shade, the midday heat felt stifling. “Attack me,” he ordered as Cloudpaw scrambled down the slope to join him, his paws sending up puffs of red dust that clung to his long white fur.

Cloudpaw stared at him, wrinkling his nose. “What? Just like that?”

“Yes,” replied Fireheart. “Pretend I'm an enemy warrior.”

“Okay.” Cloudpaw shrugged and began racing halfheartedly toward him. His round belly slowed him down, making his small paws sink deep into the sand. Fireheart had plenty of time to prepare himself so that when Cloudpaw finally reached him, it was easy to dodge to one side and send the young apprentice rolling into the dust.

Cloudpaw clambered to his paws and shook himself, sneezing as the dust tickled his nostrils.

“Too slow,” Fireheart told him. “Try again.”

Cloudpaw crouched down, breathing hard, and narrowed his eyes. Fireheart stared back, impressed by the intensity of Cloudpaw's gaze—this time the apprentice looked as if he were actually thinking about the attack. Cloudpaw leaped and flew at Fireheart, twisting as he landed so that he could kick Fireheart with his hind legs.

Fireheart staggered but managed to keep his balance and send Cloudpaw flying with a swipe from his front paw. “Better,”
he puffed. “But you're not prepared for the counterstrike.”

Cloudpaw lay unmoving in the sand.

“Cloudpaw?” Fireheart meowed. The blow from his front paw had been heavy, but surely not enough to hurt. The apprentice's ear twitched but he stayed where he was.

Fireheart padded over to him, his fur suddenly prickling with worry. He peered down and saw that Cloudpaw's eyes were wide open.

“You've killed me.” The apprentice gasped mockingly, and rolled feebly onto his back.

Fireheart snorted. “Stop messing around,” he snapped. “This is serious!”

“Okay, okay.” Cloudpaw struggled to his paws, still panting. “But I'm hungry now. Can we go hunting?”

Fireheart opened his mouth to argue. Then he remembered Whitestorm's words:
He'll learn when he's ready.
Perhaps it was better to let Cloudpaw train at his own pace after all. So far arguing had been a complete waste of time.

“Come on then.” Fireheart sighed and led Cloudpaw out of the training hollow.

As they trekked along the bottom of the ravine into the forest, Cloudpaw stopped and sniffed the air. “I smell rabbit,” he mewed. Fireheart lifted his nose. The apprentice was right.

“Over there,” whispered Cloudpaw.

A bright flicker in the bushes betrayed the white tail of a young rabbit. Fireheart dropped low against the ground. He tensed his muscles, ready to give chase. Beside him Cloudpaw
dropped too, his belly bulging out sideways as he crouched. The rabbit's tail flickered again and Cloudpaw dashed toward it, his paws thudding heavily on the dry forest floor. The rabbit heard the noise at once and shot away into the undergrowth. Cloudpaw crashed after it while Fireheart followed on silent paws. The ferns trembled where Cloudpaw had charged through them, and Fireheart felt a stab of disappointment as Cloudpaw skidded, panting, to a halt ahead of him. The rabbit had disappeared.

“You hunted better than that when you were a kit!” Fireheart exclaimed. His sister's kit had once had the makings of a fine warrior, but the fluffy white apprentice seemed to be turning as soft as a kittypet. “Only StarClan knows how you got so fat with a hunting technique like that. Even a fit cat can't outrun a rabbit. You need to be much lighter on your paws if you want to catch one!” He was thankful Sandstorm hadn't come with them. He would have been embarrassed if she had seen what a poor hunter his apprentice had become.

For once Cloudpaw didn't argue. “Sorry,” he muttered, and Fireheart felt a pang of sympathy for the young cat. It did look as if Cloudpaw had been trying his best this time, and he couldn't help feeling that he'd let his apprentice down by neglecting his training lately.

“Why don't I just go hunting by myself?” Cloudpaw suggested, looking down at his paws. “I promise I'll bring something back for the fresh-kill pile.”

Fireheart studied him for a moment. Cloudpaw couldn't be such a poor hunter all the time, because he was looking more
well fed than any of the cats in the Clan. Perhaps he fared better when he wasn't being watched. In a flash, Fireheart decided to follow his apprentice without him knowing and watch him hunt. “That's a good idea,” he agreed. “Just make sure you're back by mealtime.”

Cloudpaw brightened instantly. “Of course,” he meowed. “I won't be late; I promise.” Fireheart heard the apprentice's belly growl with hunger.
Perhaps that will sharpen his skills
, he thought.

As he listened to Cloudpaw's pawsteps fade away into the forest, he felt a flicker of guilt at the thought of spying on him. But he was only going to assess his apprentice's skills, he reminded himself, as any mentor would.

Tracking Cloudpaw through Tallpines was easy. The undergrowth was sparse beneath the shade of the towering pine trees, and Fireheart could see his apprentice's snowy pelt from a long way off. The woods here were alive with small birds, and he kept expecting Cloudpaw to stop and take advantage of the rich offerings.

But Cloudpaw didn't stop. He carried on at a surprisingly swift pace, considering the size of his belly, out of Tallpines and into the oak forest that backed onto Twolegplace. Fireheart felt an ominous prickle in his paws. Keeping low, he sped up so he didn't lose sight of Cloudpaw in the thick undergrowth. Then the trees thinned out and Fireheart caught a glimpse of the fences that bordered the Twoleg gardens up ahead. Was Cloudpaw going to visit his mother, Princess? Her Twoleg nest was near here. He couldn't blame
Cloudpaw for wanting to see her from time to time. He was still young enough to remember her warm scent. But why hadn't Cloudpaw mentioned Princess to Fireheart before now? And why did he say he was going hunting if he was going to visit his mother? Surely he knew that Fireheart, of all the Clan, would understand.

Fireheart's confusion grew as Cloudpaw turned away from Princess's fence and followed the line of Twoleg nests until Princess's home was far behind them. The apprentice padded steadily onward, even ignoring a fresh mouse-scent that crossed his path, until he reached a silver birch that stretched up beside a pale green garden fence. The small white cat heaved himself up the trunk of the birch and clambered on top of the fence, swaying as his belly dragged him off balance. Fireheart remembered Dustpelt's jibe and winced. Perhaps garden birds were more to Cloudpaw's taste after all. But he would have to tell Cloudpaw that Clan cats didn't hunt in Twolegplace. StarClan had given them the forest to provide their food.

Cloudpaw jumped down to the other side of the fence. Fireheart quickly scrambled up the birch, thankful that it was in full leaf as he sheltered behind its fluttering leaves. Below he could see Cloudpaw trotting across the carefully clipped grass, his tail and chin high. A sense of foreboding flowed through Fireheart as Cloudpaw ran straight past a small gang of starlings. The birds scattered upward in a flurry of wings, but Cloudpaw didn't even turn his head. Fireheart felt the blood begin to pound in his ears. If
Cloudpaw hadn't come to hunt garden birds, what was he doing here? Then he froze with horror as he watched Cloudpaw sit down outside the Twoleg nest and let out a shrill, pitiful wail.