Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27 By late afternoon the lingering smell of smoke had been replaced by the stench of wet ash, but Fireheart relished its bitter odor. "The fire must be out by now," he meowed to Graystripe, who was sheltering beside him beneath a clump of reeds. "We could go back and see if it's safe for the Clan to return." "And look for Yellowfang and Halftail," Graystripe murmured. Fireheart had known that his old friend would guess why he really wanted to go back to the camp. He blinked at the gray warrior, grateful for his understanding. "I'll have to ask Crookedstar if I can come," Graystripe added. The words came as a shock to Fireheart. He had almost forgotten that Graystripe belonged to another Clan now. "I'll be back soon," called the gray warrior, already bounding away. Fireheart gazed across the clearing to where Bluestar was huddled next to Whitestorm, as if the white warrior were the only barrier between her troubled mind and the horrific fate that had

befallen her Clan. Fireheart wondered if he should tell her where he was going. He decided not to. For the moment he would act alone and rely on his Clan to shield their leader's weakened state from the curious RiverClan cats. "Fireheart." Cloudpaw was heading toward him. "Do you think the fire is out?" "Graystripe and I are going to check," Fireheart told him. "Can I come?" Fireheart shook his head. He didn't know what they would find at the ThunderClan camp. Uncomfortably he also realized that he was afraid Cloudpaw would take one look at his ruined forest home and be tempted back into the cozy life of a kittypet. "I'd do everything you told me," Cloudpaw promised earnestly. "Then stay and help take care of your Clan," Fireheart meowed. "Whitestorm needs you here." Cloudpaw hid his disappointment by lowering his head. "Yes, Fireheart," he mewed. "Tell Whitestorm where I'm going," Fireheart added. "I'll be back by moonrise."

"Okay." Fireheart watched the white apprentice pad back toward the other cats, praying that Cloudpaw would follow his orders for once and stay in the RiverClan camp. Graystripe returned with Crookedstar at his side. The pale tabby's amber eyes were narrowed inquiringly. "Graystripe tells me that he wants to travel with you to your camp," he meowed. "Can't you take one of your own warriors?" "We lost two Clanmates in the fire," Fireheart explained, getting to his paws. "I don't want to find them by myself." The RiverClan leader seemed to understand. "If they have not survived, you'll need the comfort of an old friend," he meowed gently. "Graystripe may go with you." "Thank you, Crookedstar," replied Fireheart, dipping his head. Graystripe led the way to the river. On the other side of the swiftly flowing water, the forest was blackened and charred. The tallest trees had managed to retain a few of their leaves, which

fluttered bravely at the tips of their highest branches. But it was a small victory when the rest of their branches were black and stripped bare. StarClan may have sent the storm to put out the fire, but it had come too late to save the forest. Graystripe slipped into the river without speaking and swam across. Fireheart followed him, struggling to keep up with his strongly paddling friend. As they climbed onto the bank at the other side, the two cats could only stare in horror at the remains of their beloved woodland. "Seeing this place from across the river was the only comfort I had," murmured Graystripe. Fireheart glanced at his friend with a pang of sympathy. It sounded as if Graystripe were even more homesick than he had thought. But he didn't have a chance to ask any questions before Graystripe charged up the shore toward the ThunderClan border. The gray warrior crossed it eagerly, pausing to add his own scent mark. Fireheart couldn't help wondering if his old friend was thinking of RiverClan boundaries—or ThunderClan. Despite the devastation Graystripe seemed to

relish being back in his old territory. As Fireheart pushed on to the camp, Graystripe wove back and forth behind him, sniffing intently before catching up with his friend. Fireheart was amazed that he could recognize anything. The forest was changed beyond belief, the undergrowth burned away, the air empty of the scent or sound of prey. The ground felt sticky underpaw where rain and ash had mingled to make black, acrid-smelling mud that clung to their fur. Fireheart shivered as raindrops splashed onto his wet pelt. The sound of a single, brave bird singing in the distance made his heart ache for everything that had been lost. At last they reached the top of the ravine. The camp was clearly visible, stripped of its protective canopy, the hard earth gleaming like black stone in the rain. Only the Highrock was unchanged by the fire, apart from a slick of sticky black ash. Fireheart rushed down the slope, sending grit and ash crumbling ahead of him. The tree where he had saved Goldenflower's kit was nothing but a heap of charred sticks now, and he leaped over them easily. He searched for the gorse tunnel that had once led to the clearing, but only a tangle of

blackened stems remained. He picked his way through and hurried into the smoke-stained clearing. As he stared around, his heart pounding, he felt Graystripe nudge him. He followed the gray warrior's gaze to where Halftail's scorched body lay at what used to be the entrance to Yellowfang's fern tunnel. The medicine cat must have tried to get the unconscious elder back into the safety of the camp, hoping perhaps that the cracked rock where she had made her den would protect them from the flames. Fireheart started toward the burned shape, but Graystripe meowed, "I'll bury Halftail. You look for Yellowfang." He picked up the limp brown body and started to drag it out of the camp toward the burial place. Fireheart watched him go, his heart frozen with dread. He knew this was why he had come back to the camp, but his legs suddenly felt too weak to move. He forced himself to walk over to the burned stumps that lined the path to Yellowfang's clearing. There was no sheltering green tunnel now. The medicine cat's home was