The Darkest Hour Read Free Page B

make sure the Clan is okay.”
    While they were speaking, the rest of the Clan had appeared through the gorse tunnel and begun to gather in a ragged circle around Fireheart and Sandstorm. Fireheart spotted Fernpaw and Ashpaw, the two apprentices who had begun the race to lure the dogs away from the camp. “Well done, both of you,” he meowed.
    The young cats let out a purr. “We hid in the hazel thicket where you told us, and jumped out as soon as we saw the dogs,” mewed Ashpaw.
    â€œYes, we knew we had to keep them away from the camp,” Fernpaw put in.
    â€œYou were very brave,” Fireheart praised them. Once again he remembered the limp body of Brindleface, the apprentices’ mother, murdered by Tigerstar. “I’m proud of you—and your mother would be proud, too.”
    Ashpaw shrank, suddenly looking like a fragile kit. “I was terrified ,” he admitted. “If we’d known what the dogs were like, I don’t think we’d have dared to do it.”
    â€œWe were all terrified,” Dustpelt meowed as he came upand gave Fernpaw a gentle lick. “I’ve never run so fast in my life. You two did brilliantly.”
    Though he praised his own apprentice equally, the warmth in Dustpelt’s gaze was all for Fernpaw. Fireheart managed to hide his amusement. The brown tabby warrior’s affection for her was no secret.
    â€œYou did well, too, Dustpelt,” Fireheart meowed. “The Clan owes thanks to all of you.”
    Dustpelt held Fireheart’s gaze for a moment before he gave him a little nod of acknowledgment. As he turned away, Fireheart spotted Cloudtail gently guiding Lostface past and stopped them to ask, “Are you okay, Lostface?”
    â€œI’m fine,” the young she-cat replied, though she glanced around nervously with her good eye. “Are you sure none of the dogs got this far?”
    â€œI checked the whole camp myself,” Fireheart told her. “There’s no sign of any dogs.”
    â€œShe was very brave at Sunningrocks,” meowed Cloudtail, touching his muzzle to Lostface’s shoulder. “She helped me keep watch from a tree.”
    Lostface brightened. “I can’t see as well as I used to, but I can listen, and scent.”
    â€œWell done,” Fireheart meowed. “You too, Cloudtail. I was right to rely on you.”
    â€œThey’ve all done well.” That was Cinderpelt’s voice; Fireheart turned to see her limping toward him with Mousefur just behind her. “There was no panic at all, not even when we heard the pack howling.”
    â€œAnd every cat’s okay?” Fireheart asked anxiously.
    â€œThey’re all fine.” The medicine cat’s blue eyes glowed with relief. “Mousefur tore a claw when she was running from the dogs, but that’s all. Come on, Mousefur, I’ll give you something for it.”
    As Fireheart watched them go, he realized that Whitestorm had appeared beside him. “Can I have a word with you?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” Whitestorm’s eyes were full of an guish. “I know you asked me to take care of Bluestar when we were fleeing from the dogs. But she slipped away from Sunningrocks before I realized she’d gone. It’s my fault she’s dead.”
    Fireheart narrowed his eyes at the older warrior. For the first time he noticed how exhausted he looked. Although Whitestorm was the senior warrior of ThunderClan, he had always seemed strong and vigorous, his white coat sleek and well-groomed. Now he looked a hundred seasons older than the cat who had left camp that morning.
    â€œThat’s ridiculous!” Fireheart insisted. “Even if you had noticed that Bluestar had gone, what could you have done? She was your leader—you couldn’t have made her stay.”
    Whitestorm blinked. “I didn’t dare send another cat after her—not with the pack