Firestar's Quest Read Free Page A

“I know she’ll be a great warrior.”
    â€œYou both will,” Firestar told him.
    On their way back to camp, Firestar felt as if every shadowy hollow, every clump of fern or bramble thicket, could be hiding the gleam of amber eyes. Whatever Tigerstar’s crimes, he had been proud of his son and daughter, and his death had been particularly dreadful, with all nine lives ripped away at once by Scourge’s sharpened claws. Was the massive tabby watching them now? Not from StarClan, for Firestar had never seen him in his dreams; the ThunderClan medicine cat, Cinderpelt, had never reported meeting him when she shared tongues with StarClan, either. Could there be another place for coldhearted cats who had been ready to use the warrior code for their own dark ambitions? If there was such a shadowed path, Firestar hoped he would never have to walk it—nor his lively apprentice. Bramblepaw was bouncing through the grass beside him, excited as a kit; surely he had shaken off the legacy of his father?
    As they slipped down the ravine toward the camp, Bramblepaw halted, his gaze serious. “Was my assessment really okay? Am I good enough—”
    â€œTo be a warrior?” Firestar guessed. “Yes, you are. We’ll hold your ceremony tomorrow.”
    Bramblepaw dipped his head respectfully. “Thank you, Firestar,” he mewed. “I won’t let you down.” His eyes blazed; he gave a sudden bound into the air and pelted down the rest of the ravine to wait by the entrance to the gorse tunnel. Firestar watched him, amused. He could still remember when he had felt as if he had too much energy to contain in his four paws, when he felt as if he could run through the forest forever.
    â€œYou’d better get some sleep,” he warned as he joined his apprentice. “You’ll have to sit vigil tomorrow night.”
    â€œIf you’re sure, Firestar…” Bramblepaw hesitated, working his claws in the sandy ground. “I could find you some fresh-kill first.”
    â€œNo, go on,” his leader told him. “You’re so excited right now you wouldn’t notice if a fox ate you.”
    Bramblepaw waved his tail and bundled through the gorse tunnel into the camp.
    Firestar lingered outside the camp for a while, settling down on a flat rock with his tail curled around his paws. He could hear nothing but the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the tiny scufflings of prey in the undergrowth.
    The battle with BloodClan had cast its shadow over all the Clans; for more than a season after, every cat in the forest jumped at a cracking twig, and chased out strangers as if their lives depended on it. They were even scared of going too close to Twolegplace, in case any surviving members of BloodClan happened to be lurking there. But now, five moons later, ThunderClan was thriving. Tomorrow there would be a new warrior, and the apprentices Rainpaw, Sootpaw, and Sorrelpaw were all doing well after three moons of training. In time, they would be good warriors too—they were bound to be, considering who their father was. Every day they reminded Firestar of his first deputy, Whitestorm, who had died battling the vicious BloodClan deputy, Bone. He still grieved for the old white warrior.
    His mind wrapped in memories of his old friend, it was amoment before Firestar realized he could hear a faint sound: the footfalls of a cat stepping lightly through the undergrowth. He sprang to his paws, looking around, but he saw nothing.
    He hardly had time to sit down before the noise came again. This time Firestar whipped his head around in time to glimpse the pale shape of a cat standing a little farther up the ravine.
    Am I dreaming? Has Whitestorm left StarClan to come and visit me?
    But this cat was smaller than Whitestorm and its fur was gray, patched with white. It stared straight at him, its eyes dark and earnest, as if it were trying to tell him something. Firestar had