Erin Hunter - Fire And Ice

The WindClan warriors stood their ground without moving a muscle. They’re waiting for a signal from their leader! Fireheart realized. They still follow the warrior code, even though they have to live like this .

From behind the line of warriors, a black-and-white tom weaved his way to the front. With a jolt, Fireheart recognized the long-tailed cat from his dream. This must be Tallstar, leader of WindClan.

Tallstar sniffed the air, but Fireheart and Graystripe were downwind, their scents carried away by the steady breeze. As the black-and-white cat walked toward them, Fireheart breathed in the rank odor of crowfood that hung on his coat. Like Graystripe, he remained perfectly still, his eyes down, as Tallstar circled them, sniffing their fur closely.

Finally Tallstar returned to his warriors. Fireheart heard him murmur, “ThunderClan.” The warriors flattened their fur, but remained in a defensive line, shielding the rest of the cats.

Tallstar turned to face his visitors and sat down, curling his tail carefully around his paws. “I was expecting ShadowClan,” he growled. His eyes burned with hostility. “Why are you here?”

“We came to find you,” Fireheart meowed, feeling his voice crack with tension. “Bluestar and the other Clan leaders want you to return to your home.”

The WindClan leader’s voice was still wary. “That land is not safe for my Clan anymore,” he meowed. There was a hunted look in Tallstar’s eye that sent a pang of sorrow through Fireheart.

“ShadowClan has driven out Brokenstar,” he meowed. “He is no longer a threat.”

The warriors behind Tallstar turned and looked at one another. Murmurs of surprise rippled back through the Clan.

“You must return as soon as possible,” Fireheart urged. “ShadowClan and RiverClan are starting to hunt in the uplands. We saw a RiverClan hunting patrol near the old badger set while we were on our way here.”

Tallstar bristled angrily.

“But they are poor rabbit hunters,” Graystripe added. “I think they went home with empty bellies.”

Tallstar and his warriors purred with satisfaction. Their good spirits encouraged Fireheart, but he could see how weak they were. This Clan would find the journey back to the uplands long and hard. “May we travel with you?” he suggested respectfully.

Tallstar’s eyes flashed. He knew the question was a tactful offer of help. He looked steadily at Fireheart. “Yes,” he replied at last. “Thank you.”

Fireheart realized he hadn’t introduced himself. “This is Graystripe,” he meowed, dipping his head. “And I am Fireheart. We are warriors of ThunderClan.”

“Fireheart,” repeated Tallstar thoughtfully. Sunlight was flooding through the gap in the roof now, making Fireheart’s orange pelt glow in the dim tunnel. “The name suits you.”

Another monster roared overhead. Fireheart and Graystripe flinched. Tallstar watched them with amusement and flicked his tail. It must have been a signal, for the line of warriors behind him split up. “We shall leave at once,” he announced, standing up.

“Are we all fit for the journey?” Tallstar asked as the warriors began to move among the queens and elders.

“All except Morningflower’s kit,” replied a mottled brown warrior. “He is too young.”

“Then we must take turns carrying him,” answered Tallstar.

The WindClan cats shuffled forward, their eyes dull with pain and exhaustion. A tortoiseshell queen was holding a tiny kit gently by the scruff of its neck. The little creature’s eyes were hardly open.

“Ready?” called Tallstar.

A black tom with a misshapen paw looked around the Clan and answered for them. “Ready,” he meowed.

Fireheart and Graystripe turned and made their way back to the tunnel entrance and waited while the WindClan cats emerged blinking into the daylight. Some of the elders blinked so long, their faces screwed up against the weak sun, that Fireheart guessed they had not been outside the tunnel for some time. Tallstar padded out of the tunnel last of all and walked to the head of his Clan.

“Shall we take you back the way we came?” Fireheart asked him. “I believe it’s a shortcut.”

“Is it safe?” asked Tallstar. Fireheart saw the hunted look once more in the leader’s eyes.

“We met no trouble coming here,” Graystripe meowed.

Tallstar flicked his tail decisively, as though he were brushing away any doubt. “Good,” he declared. “You come with me, Graystripe. Show me the way. Fireheart, travel beside the Clan. Tell my deputy if you see trouble.”

“Which one is he?” asked Fireheart.

Tallstar nodded toward the black tom. “Deadfoot,” he meowed. The warrior turned at the sound of his name and pricked his ears.

Fireheart dipped his head in greeting. He left Graystripe with Tallstar and joined the other cats.

As the Clan made their way under the Thunderpath arch, Fireheart could still smell the fire, but when they padded out onto the patch of wasteland, the Twolegs were nowhere to be seen. Graystripe headed straight for the tunnel where he and Fireheart had spent the night. Tallstar entered first, while Fireheart waited at the back until all the Clan had disappeared inside. Only Deadfoot remained.

“Are you sure it leads to daylight?” the black tom meowed warily.

“It just leads under the Thunderpath. Have you never used this tunnel?” Fireheart asked, surprised.

“When our warriors cross the Thunderpath, they prefer to see where they’re heading,” growled Deadfoot. Fireheart nodded, and the deputy added, “You go first.”

Fireheart padded down into the dark hole. He emerged to find the WindClan cats staring across the field that led to the final Thunderpath. Fireheart saw Tallstar consult briefly with Graystripe before they set off into the long, frost-crisp grass. Fireheart walked with the rest of the Clan, flanking one side while Deadfoot limped steadily on the other.

Before they were halfway across the field, it was clear that many of the cats were having trouble keeping up the pace. “Tallstar!” yowled Deadfoot. “We need to travel more slowly!”

Fireheart looked over his shoulder and saw some of the cats falling farther and farther behind. Morningflower was among them, the kit swinging from her mouth. Fireheart bounded over to her. She was panting heavily. It couldn’t have been long since her kitting.

“Let me carry him,” Fireheart offered. “Just until you have caught your breath.”

Morningflower glanced warily at Fireheart, but her eyes softened when they met his. She put her kit down, and Fireheart took it gently and walked next to her so that she didn’t lose sight of her precious bundle.

Tallstar slowed the pace, but only a little. In spite of his obvious exhaustion, and the fact that every rib showed under his fur, he burned with a fierce energy that lent swiftness to his paws.

Fireheart could understand part of the reason for his urgency. The sun was steadily climbing above the horizon. Some of the WindClan cats were sick, some old, and all of them were weak from hunger. If they were going to cross the Thunderpath without losing any cats, they would have to do it quickly, before the monsters came in their swarms.

By the time Fireheart and Morningflower arrived at the hedge, WindClan was gathered around its leader.

“We cross the Thunderpath here,” Tallstar announced above the noise of a monster racing past. The WindClan leader squeezed under the hedge. Deadfoot, Graystripe, and a younger warrior followed him.

Morningflower leaned toward Fireheart and took hold of her kit. She had stopped panting now, and as she took the kit from Fireheart she brushed her cheek gratefully against his. He dipped his head to the tortoiseshell queen and followed Graystripe under the hedge.