Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24 Fireheart leaped from one stepping-stone to the next across the swiftly flowing river. The floodwater had retreated and the stones were clearly visible again. It was the day after Silverstream had died; the sky was gray with a thin drizzle of rain, as if StarClan were mourning her too. Fireheart was on his way to take the news of Silverstream's death into RiverClan, although he had not sought Bluestar's permission first. He had slipped away without telling any cat because he thought Silverstream's Clan had the right to know what had happened to her. And he suspected that not every cat in ThunderClan would agree with him. Reaching the opposite bank, Fireheart stood with his head raised, tasting the air for fresh scents. He caught one almost at once, and a heartbeat later a small tabby tom appeared from the ferns above the path. He hesitated, looking startled, before sidling down the bank to confront Fireheart. "You're Fireheart, aren't you?" he meowed. "I recognize

you from the last Gathering. What are you doing on our side of the river?" He was trying to sound confident, but Fireheart could detect nervousness in his voice. He was a very young cat—an apprentice, Fireheart guessed, anxious at being away from the camp without his mentor. "I'm not here to fight, or to spy," Fireheart promised. "I need to talk to Mistyfoot. Will you fetch her for me?" The apprentice hesitated again, as if he would have liked to protest. Then the habit of obeying warriors' orders won over, and he padded along the riverside in the direction of the RiverClan camp. Fireheart watched him go and scrambled up the bank to a spot where he could lie concealed in the bracken until Mistyfoot appeared. It was a long time before she came, but at last Fireheart caught sight of her familiar blue-gray shape trotting rapidly toward him. Familiar because of Bluestar, he realized with a jolt. His leader's daughter was practically her double. To his relief she was alone. As she paused to sniff the

air, he called out softly to her, "Mistyfoot! Up here!" Mistyfoot's ears twitched; moments later she was pushing her way into the ferns beside him. "What is it?" she meowed, looking worried. "Is it about Silverstream? I haven't seen her since yesterday." Fireheart felt as if a bone were lodged in his throat. He swallowed uncomfortably. "Mistyfoot," he mewed, "it's bad news. I'm so sorry… Silverstream is dead." Mistyfoot fixed him with wide blue eyes full of disbelief. "Dead?" she echoed. "She can't be!" Before Fireheart could respond, she added more harshly, "Did some of your ThunderClan warriors catch her over there?" "No, no," Fireheart replied quickly. "She was at the Sunningrocks with Graystripe, and the kits started to come. Something was wrong… there was a lot of blood. We did everything we could, but… oh, Mistyfoot, I'm so sorry." Pain flooded into Mistyfoot's eyes as he explained. She let out a long, low wailing sound, her head flung back and her claws digging into the

ground. Fireheart moved closer to try to comfort her, and felt every muscle in her body rigid with tension. There were no words he could say that would do any good. At last the terrible wailing died away and Mistyfoot relaxed a little. "I knew no good could come of it," she murmured. There was no anger or accusation in her voice, only a weary sadness. "I told her not to meet Graystripe, but would she listen? And now… I can't believe I'll never see her again." "Graystripe buried her by the Sunningrocks," Fireheart told her. "If you'll meet me there one day, I'll show you the place." Mistyfoot nodded. "I'd like that, Fireheart." "Her kits are alive," Fireheart added, in an attempt to ease some of the queen's grief. "Her kits?" Mistyfoot sat up, alert again. "Two kits," mewed Fireheart. "They're going to be fine." Mistyfoot blinked, suddenly deep in thought. "Will ThunderClan want them, when they're half RiverClan?" "One of our queens is suckling them,"

Fireheart assured her. "The Clan's angry with Graystripe, but no cat would take it out on the kits." "I see." Mistyfoot was silent for a while, still thoughtful, and then rose to her paws. "I must get back to camp and tell the Clan. They don't even know about Graystripe. I can't imagine what I'm going to say to Silverstream's father." Fireheart knew how she felt. Many warrior fathers did not stay close to their kits, but Crookedstar had maintained a close bond with Silverstream. His grief at her death would be mixed with anger that she had betrayed her Clan by taking Graystripe as a mate. Mistyfoot gave Fireheart a quick lick on the forehead. "Thank you," she mewed. "Thank you for coming to tell me." Then she was gone, sliding rapidly through the ferns. Fireheart waited until she was out of sight before he padded down the pebbly shore and crossed the stepping stones back to his own territory. Hunger roused Fireheart from sleep. Peering

through the dim light in the warriors' den, he saw that Graystripe had left his nest already. Oh, no! Fireheart thought irritably. He's gone off to meet Silverstream again! Then he remembered. Two dawns had passed since Silverstream's death. The shock the Clan felt about her affair with Graystripe was beginning to die down, though none of the warriors except Fireheart and Brackenfur would talk to Graystripe or go on patrols with him. Bluestar had still not announced what his punishment would be. Fireheart stretched and yawned. All night his sleep had been disturbed by Graystripe twitching and whimpering, but the weariness inside him went deeper than that. He couldn't see how the Clan could possibly recover from the blow that had been struck by the discovery of Graystripe's disloyalty. There was an atmosphere of uncertainty and distrust that dulled conversation and cut short the familiar rituals of sharing tongues. With a determined shake, Fireheart slipped out through the branches and padded over to the pile of fresh-kill. The sun was rising, dappling the