River Of Fire

Mistystar’s blue gaze rested on him thoughtfully. “But you came very close to crossing our borders,” she mewed at last.

Alderheart felt a stab of fear like a claw tearing at his belly. Is she going to consider this an act of aggression? he wondered. We weren’t even planning to trespass! Well, she can think what she likes—I’m not going home without watermint . . . I just hope that doesn’t mean we’ll have to fight for it.

“But I understand your needs,” Mistystar continued, “and I wish no ill on any cat. Take your watermint, and then go.”

“Thank you! We—”

“But next time you think of approaching our border,” Mistystar interrupted, “think again. The border is closed—do not forget that.”

Yes, I think I’ve gotten the message by now. Alderheart noticed that Willowshine, one of the RiverClan medicine cats, was among those gathered around Mistystar. She was shifting her paws uncomfortably, and there was an unhappy expression in her bright green eyes. There’s a cat who doesn’t agree with her Clan leader.

Alderheart didn’t speak his thoughts aloud. Instead he bowed his head to Mistystar in a show of deepest respect. “You are very generous, Mistystar,” he meowed. “ThunderClan thanks you for your graciousness. May StarClan light your path.”

Mistystar made no response, and after a moment Alderheart turned to go. But his paws were dragging, and there was a huge weight on his heart. Unsure what was compelling him, he turned back.

“Mistystar, won’t you change your mind?” he begged. “Don’t you know that ShadowClan has collapsed, and is now part of SkyClan? Suppose it’s catching, like a sickness, the way Clans fall apart? Surely it’s in every Clan’s interest that we’re all strong?”

The RiverClan leader drew herself up, her blue-gray fur rippling in the breeze and her blue eyes intent. Alderheart could see that his news had affected her. He held his breath, waiting, hoping, for her to take some action.

Then Mistystar relaxed, her spine settling. “Our borders are closed,” she repeated, “while RiverClan rebuilds. I am sorry to hear what happened to ShadowClan, but it is not RiverClan’s responsibility.” She hesitated, then added, “That is the way things are now.”

With a wave of her plumy tail, she dismissed Alderheart.

Struggling to hide his disappointment, Alderheart left the camp. He had always thought of Mistystar as the most reasonable of the Clan leaders, and for a heartbeat he had believed that he had reached her.

The wounds Darktail dealt her Clan have gone too deep. But what will happen to the Clans if the storm in StarClan’s prophecy is unleashed on us?

Shimmerpelt and Havenpelt escorted him, one on each side, until they reached the border stream and the place where he could leap across by the jutting rock.

His Clanmates and the WindClan cats were waiting for him. “Well?” Sparkpelt demanded. “What did Mistystar say?”

Alderheart angled his ears to where the two RiverClan warriors were still watching from the opposite bank. “Mind what you say,” he muttered. “We don’t want trouble now.” More loudly, he added, “She says we can go in peace.”

“I should think so,” Hootwhisker commented under his breath.

All six cats collected as much watermint as they could carry, making sure that they picked stems that were growing farthest from the stream.

“This might be the only chance we get,” Alderheart warned them. “Mistystar told me not to come back.”

When they had bundled up the herbs, they set off, back along the lakeshore; Alderheart was aware of Shimmerpelt and Havenpelt still guarding the stream until they were out of sight.

The WindClan patrol said their good-byes at the other side of the horseplace and headed up the moorland slope toward their camp. Alderheart and his Clanmates made their way back to the stone hollow. They padded mostly in silence, and Alderheart tried to feel optimistic.

I might have failed with Mistystar, but at least now we can treat the sickness.

But as soon as Alderheart pushed his way through the thorn tunnel into the camp, he spotted Jayfeather bounding toward him.

“Where have you been?” the blind cat demanded. “What took you so long? More cats have come down with the sickness—and the worst of them is Squirrelflight!”

CHAPTER 4

“No, no, no! Let’s try that exercise again,” Sparkpelt meowed. “You should be rearing up on your hind legs, then a double slash with your forepaws. Keep your claws sheathed for now.”