Erin Hunter - The Darkest Hour

A terrible wailing broke from him. “Scourge! Scourge is dead!”

As the cry rose above the screeches of battling cats, Firestar saw the warriors of BloodClan falter and stop fighting. As they realized that they had lost their leader, they turned and fled. To Firestar’s dazed eyes, the Twolegplace cats seem e d to have shrunk. They were no longer fearsome warriors, but ordinary cats who had no place in the forest: slower than WindClan, duller than RiverClan, scrawnier than ShadowClan. All their menace was gone, and with a cry of triumph the forest cats surged after them and chased them out of the hollow.

Numb with exhaustion, Firestar hardly had the strength to understand that his cats—LionClan—had won. The forest belonged to StarClan once again.

The clearing fell silent. Blood glistened on the grass as cold sunlight sliced through the trees. Cloudtail struggled to his paws and staggered over to stand beside Firestar, looking down at Scourge’s lifeless black body.

“You did it, Firestar,” he panted. “You saved the forest.”

Firestar gave the young warrior a lick. “We all did,” he meowed. He thought back to the trouble his kin had caused when he first arrived in the forest. In those days, Firestar would never have imagined he could have felt so proud of his wayward nephew. “Go and find Cinderpelt, and get yourself something for those wounds.”

Cloudtail nodded and limped off across the clearing.

Looking around, Firestar saw that warriors from each of the four Clans were gathering around their medicine cats at the edge of the clearing. One had become four again; LionClan was no more.

At first he couldn’t see Sandstorm, and he felt panic welling up inside him. He was not sure he could bear it if he had lost her. Then he saw her stumbling wearily across the clearing. The fur along one flank was stiff with drying blood, but Firestar could see that her injuries were not serious.

“Thank StarClan!” he breathed.

He crossed the clearing in two bounds, and Sandstorm turned her head to look at him, her green gaze filled with relief. “We did it,” she murmured. “We drove out BloodClan.”

Firestar suddenly felt light-headed, as if the whole of Fourtrees were spinning around him.

“Steady,” urged Sandstorm, supporting him with her shoulder. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Come and see Cinderpelt.”

Firestar staggered the rest of the way, drinking in Sandstorm’s scent and feeling comforted by the softness of her fur. When they reached Cinderpelt he collapsed on the ground, wondering if he were about to lose another life. Then he realized he could still hear the sounds all around him in the clearing, and the pain of his scratches throbbed instead of fading as Fernpaw started pressing cobwebs to the worst of his wounds.

“Is he okay?” That was Graystripe’s voice. “Hey, come on, Firestar—you can’t give up now!”

“I’m not. I’m tired, that’s all.” Firestar blinked up at the gray warrior. “Don’t worry; you won’t have to be leader for a while yet.”

“Firestar.” Sandstorm gently prodded his shoulder. “There are more cats coming.”

Firestar sat up to see a group of RiverClan cats padding toward him, headed by Leopardstar. The RiverClan leader dipped her head toward Firestar. Claw marks covered her pelt, but her eyes were clear and she carried her tail high.

“Well done, Firestar,” she meowed. “They tell me you killed Scourge.”

“Every cat fought well,” Firestar replied. “We wouldn’t have won unless all the Clans joined together.”

“True enough,” Leopardstar conceded. “But now we must separate again. I am going to take my Clan home. We must care for our wounded and grieve for our dead.”

“And ShadowClan?” Firestar inquired.

“ShadowClan must go back to their own home,” Leopardstar replied firmly. “I have a new deputy, and enough warriors to defend our territory if ShadowClan don’t respect our border s.”

“Who is the new deputy?” Firestar asked curiously.

“Mistyfoot,” meowed the RiverClan leader, a glint in her eyes.

As Firestar stared in astonishment, Mistyfoot emerged from the ThunderClan cats, followed by Featherpaw and Stormpaw. “I’m going with Leopardstar,” she explained, fixing Firestar with her mother’s ice-blue gaze. “I’ll always be grateful for what you did, but I’m a RiverClan cat at heart.”

Firestar nodded. He had never expected Mistyfoot to change her allegiance completely from her birth Clan. “But…as deputy?” he meowed. “After what happened to Stonefur?”

There was deep grief in Mistyfoot’s eyes, but her determination did not waver. “Leopardstar asked me just before the battle started,” she explained. “I said I’d think about it, and now I know I have to do it for Stonefur’s sake, and for the sake of the Clan.”

Firestar dipped his head, respecting the hard decision she had made. “Then StarClan go with you,” he meowed. “And may you always be a friend to ThunderClan.”

The two young cats beside Mistyfoot glanced uncertainly from Firestar to Leopardstar. “We’re going too,” Stormpaw mewed. “RiverClan has lost many warriors. They need us.”

Featherpaw padded up to Graystripe and touched noses with him. “You’ll come and visit us, won’t you?”

“Try to stop me.” Graystripe’s voice was muffled and his eyes were filled with the pain of his kits’ divided heritage. “Be the best warriors you can, and make me proud of you.”

“You’ve got something to live up to,” Firestar added. “Your father is ThunderClan deputy now.”

The two apprentices pressed close to their father and twined their tails with his. Leopardstar gave them a moment to be together before signaling to them, and the young cats fell in behind her. The RiverClan cats vanished into the bushes and up the slope toward their own territory.

Firestar’s gaze fell on the group of ShadowClan cats not far away, and he noticed that Bramblepaw was with them, talking to his sister. Firestar rose to his paws and limped slowly toward them; Blackfoot got up to meet him as he approached.

“Firestar.” The ShadowClan deputy narrowed his eyes. “So we won the battle after all.”

“Yes, we did,” Firestar agreed, adding, “What will you do now, Blackfoot?”

“Take my Clan home, and prepare for a journey to Highstones. I’m their leader now. We have much to do to recover, but life in the forest will go on as usual.”

“Then I’ll see you at the next Gathering. And Blackfoot, you would do well to learn from the mistakes of your predecessors. I saw what you did to Stonefur at the Bonehill.”

A shadow flitted across Blackfoot’s eyes, and he did not reply.

Firestar flicked his tail to beckon Bramblepaw, who pressed his muzzle briefly against Tawnypaw’s flank and slipped through the ShadowClan cats to his mentor’s side. Blackfoot rounded up his cats and led them out of the clearing. Runningnose, the medicine cat, brought up the rear with a glance at Firestar as he went. Firestar hoped he had better luck with this new leader, after the trouble he had endured with Nightstar and Tigerstar.

Firestar turned back to his own Clan and found himself face-to-face with Barley and Ravenpaw.

“I wouldn’t trust Blackfoot,” murmured Ravenpaw, watching the last of the ShadowClan warriors disappear into the bushes. “He’s a troublemaker if I ever saw one.”

“I know,” Firestar replied. “Don’t worry. ThunderClan will be ready if he starts anything.”

“At least with Scourge dead, the cats from Twolegplace will have the chance to live in peace,” Barley remarked with feeling. “They might have a better life now.”