#book four

Goldenflower stood up with her tail curled. It surprised Firestar that it was so easy now to follow her, standing and setting off for camp at a trot. The sagging weights in his legs and head seemed to have dropped off completely. He could breathe again.

It was nice.

They arrived in a comfortable silence, just as most cats were retreating to their dens to sleep. Dustpelt, surprisingly, was home, sitting in the center of camp and kneading the sand uneasily. When he caught sight of Firestar, he rushed over, tail bristling in distress.

“There you are,” he said in a rushed-out breath. “They said you went out with Goldenflower, but you were gone so long, I nearly took a patrol to find you—”

“I’m sorry.” Firestar gave him a calming blink. “I was resting. How did the meeting with RiverClan go?”

A series of starts at a response passed by in a heartbeat: opened mouth, closed mouth, tilted head, squint, opened mouth again, then Dustpelt cleared his throat before saying, “When I got to their border, they invited me to their camp to talk with Leopardstar personally. It sounded like their seer has been dreaming of a battle, but didn’t know where it was happening. Until I showed up, that is.”

Firestar blinked and squinted a little himself.

“Mudcloud—their seer—he said that a holy fury is landing in the forest,” Dustpelt elaborated. “When I explained about our Fury on the border, he insisted that Leopardstar take RiverClan’s warriors and assist ThunderClan in a coming battle. Right in our camp, he guessed.”

Goldenflower stiffened, her claws flashing in the dawn.

Firestar stayed calm, much more easily than he had in two months. “Have you talked to Cinderpelt about this?”

“No. I was waiting for you to come home so we could all discuss it together.”

Firestar mulled this over for a moment. “Does it seem like we have time to wait until tomorrow evening?”

“Well…” Dustpelt fidgeted. “I think so, but…”

Firestar lifted his tail to gently quiet him. “Let’s get some rest, and we’ll talk first thing tomorrow. It’s been a long night.”

His deputy didn’t look entirely pleased with this, but his eyes flicked over to Goldenflower as she was passing him. She shot him a warning glare and he promptly nodded to Firestar, saying, “Of course.”

Firestar twitched his whiskers and walked with him to the warriors’ den. All but two familiar nests were taken by sleeping cats. Dustpelt curled up in his, and Firestar, finally, settled with ease in Thornclaw’s. He didn’t expect that he would fall asleep again, but the warmth of the den and the soft breaths of his Clanmates soothed him back into slumber.

He dreamed of nothing. What bliss.

The evening arrived, and was greeted first by Firestar. He slipped out of the den, stretching a bit more than he actually had to just to feel the intense relief of no longer being trapped by seemingly permanent exhaustion. When was the last time he’d groomed himself while actually paying attention?

Was it right for him to feel this much better, even when nothing had really changed? Scourge was still dead. Firestar had still killed him. The Aulmir cats were still suffering. None of that went away because he had grieved.

At the very least, he reasoned to himself, I can be more helpful with a clearer head. More productive now that I’ve actually slept. I don’t have to just focus on how miserable I am.

That would do for now.

First things first, though.

He sat near the meeting stump with the first thing he plucked off the top of the prey-pile (a mole, how lovely!). It was nice to be able to actually taste what he was eating again. He relished in the chewy feet like it was his first meal in months.

He was done and well on his way to grooming out his entire pelt when the ferns behind the stump shifted, and a familiar uneven gait shuffled through the sand.

“There you are,” Cinderpelt said warmly, as soon as she passed the stump and caught sight of Firestar. Her bushy tail, crooked at the tip, waved in delight. “Good to see you again.”

Firestar’s eyes creased in fondness. “I think I might be back, thanks to Mira.”

“I’ll take any return that I can get.” Cinderpelt limped to the prey-pile and grabbed a pigeon before joining Firestar and plopping down next to him. “Your eyes are back to burning. I missed that.”

With a twitch of his whiskers, Firestar lowered himself to lounge beside his seer. They said nothing more while Cinderpelt noisily attacked her meal, but it was nice. Even with the snarfs and hacks Yellowfang had passed on to her apprentice breaking the silence.

Dustpelt was next to awaken. He stepped out of the warriors’ den, a bit of moss still clinging to his shoulder, and didn’t bother going for any breakfast; as soon as his eyes caught the other two authorities, he hastened over to them, stopping right in front of Firestar to stand as tall and rigid as possible.

“Firestar,” he said, brisk and businesslike as usual. “Are we ready to talk?”

“We are.” Firestar gestured for him to sit down.

He did, but his tail still stuck out straight behind him as he began with, “RiverClan is doing fine. They don’t have any rogues on their borders. But Mudcloud was worried about us when he told me that he expected a battle in our camp.”

Cinderpelt frowned. “And you didn’t tell me about that?”

“Er—” Dustpelt shrank a little. “Firestar, he—”

“We can discuss it now,” Firestar said to Cinderpelt, easing her frown. “Dustpelt, please tell Cinderpelt exactly what Mudcloud said.”

“Well…” Dustpelt straightened again, chest puffed out a little at the arrival of an order. “When I got to their camp, I explained to Leopardstar that we had troubles of our own at the Houses border. Mudcloud was just leaving a den when I was speaking, and he hurried over to me. He talked about that ‘holy fury landing in our forest’, and when I mentioned Fury to him, he turned to Leopardstar and said, ‘We must be ready to assist Firestar. Prepare our warriors for a fight in camp.’”

“In our camp?” Cinderpelt stared. “How did StarClan not tell me about this? For Rokhar’s sake…”

“I suppose they must’ve told Mudcloud, so the message would get to us either way,” Dustpelt said. “But Leopardstar agreed to send assistance once we asked for it.”

“That was kind of her.” Firestar looked at Cinderpelt. “Is there any way you can communicate with StarClan now, and get an idea of when we’ll need the help?”

Dustpelt shuffled his feet. “I don’t know if we should take assistance just to be in RiverClan’s debt. We’re capable warriors, the best fighters in the territories—”

Firestar fixed him with a deadpan look. “Please recall the amount of times we’ve helped RiverClan and asked nothing of them. They were living in our territory for half a month, just a little while ago. And if Fury is bringing the fight to us, I don’t expect she’ll come with just a couple cats. If we want this to resolve itself as quickly as possible, having another Clan to fight with us will be important.” He purred in amusement at Dustpelt’s sheepish face. “And even if they technically didn’t owe us, we’re neighbors. We should do what we can to keep each other alive and well, no matter what piece of useless land we’re quibbling over.”

“He’s got us there,” Cinderpelt said. “And now is the best time to be in their debt, if they consider it so. All of RiverClan likes our leader, remember? They’ll be jumping at the chance to save his skinny butt from an angry rogue.”

A snort escaped Dustpelt and he blinked like he hadn’t expected it. “…I suppose so, yes.”

“We’ll be fine,” Firestar promised. “Have faith in our fellow cats.”

---

The night went on, and Cinderpelt retreated to her ferns to speak with StarClan. She came back a stretch of time later, grim-faced and with a twitching tail.

“Tomorrow night,” she said, before Firestar could ask. “Let’s get RiverClan over here quickly.” She hissed through her teeth. “Damn Darkstripe and his secret-spilling. Did he want all of us to get killed?”

Probably, Firestar thought. He couldn’t be too angry, though. He still remembered the tail and teeth.

The Clan was outraged at the news of a battle reaching their home, and less than enthusiastic about RiverClan’s assistance. Firestar managed to keep everyone cooled down with the assurance that no, RiverClan wouldn’t lord their help over ThunderClan, and no, ThunderClan wasn’t going to lose anybody, not with an entire extra Clan’s worth of warriors helping them. Still, Goldenflower kept Squirrel tucked tightly behind her paws, ears flat against her head and muzzle wrinkled. Squirrel just seemed excited at the prospect of violence.

 When the meeting was over, Firestar hastened (alone, promising his nervous Clan that he’d be okay) to RiverClan’s bridge, reaching it at midnight. The good news was that he was spotted quickly. The less fun news was that it was Leopardstar who saw him first, and she charged up to him. He was nervous about her bristling fur and furious eyes, but…

“Have they attacked you tonight?” she asked immediately, flexing her hungry claws.

“No, no—” Firestar shook his head. “We’re safe for now. But Cinderpelt predicts an attack tomorrow night, and by the sounds of it, it may start early in the evening. We thought we could invite you to our camp to spend the day, so you won’t have to rush to help us.”

The cats with her, multicolored and round, all looked at each other with keen interest.

“Duckflower said your camp is a lovely place,” a calico said.

“Nice and organized,” a blotchy tabby-and-white tom added. “Will a bit of colorful chaos ruffle your Clan’s feathers?”

“No more than I already do, with what I get up to,” Firestar joked, and curled his tail. “You’re all welcome to come with me.”

Leopardstar turned to her warriors. “Swiftwing, everyone should be home. Go back and bring them here. Apprentices too.”

Swiftwing cocked her head in a sideways nod before turning and running towards the massive house that sat far off in the distance, where a small grove of trees crowded together nearby. The molly’s run was, admittedly, a little clumsier and slower than Firestar thought a cat’s should be. He knew better than to comment on it, of course.

“Thank you for helping us,” he said to Leopardstar instead. “I’m hoping ThunderClan will be left alone once these cats see we still have allies.”

Leopardstar didn’t say anything—but, to his relief, her narrowed eyes were more contemplative than aggressive.

RiverClan’s fighting force arrived shortly, and Leopardstar took the lead, trotting alongside Firestar with her head high and tail higher. Cats chatted and joked as if they were merely heading to a Gathering, and Firestar half-listened in while he led. Moreso, his attention was on the cat next to him—he watched in distant fascination as her steps got stiffer and her mouth pressed thinner the closer they got to ThunderClan camp. By the time they arrived, daylight threatening to loom in the distance, she might as well have been made of wood.

ThunderClan had the good manners to welcome their neighbors politely and offer prey, which none of the RiverClan cats took out of manners of their own. Goldenflower herded the kits into the nursery and sat right outside its entrance, eyeing all newcomers warily, even as she greeted or answered a question from one of them. Aspencloud sat beside her as a much more friendly source of conversation. RiverClan cats looked around and poked their heads into dens, remarking about the tidiness of this camp and the fun feeling of the sandy floor.

The only cat who didn’t speak, or even move from where she had first stepped into camp and stopped, was Leopardstar. Firestar kept an eye on her as he went around checking to make sure everything was fine, and when she still didn’t budge by the time he was done, he padded over to her and said cheerfully, “We have a leader’s den, as well, but it’s outside of camp. Would you like to see it?”

The golden calico didn’t say anything at first, staring at something. Firestar followed her line of sight and withheld a sigh: she was watching Mintpaw and Stormpaw talk eagerly with Greystripe, who was chuffing at whatever Stormpaw had said, his eyes sparkling with delight.

Gently, Firestar tapped Leopardstar with his tail to get her attention. When she looked at him, he repeated, “Leader’s den?”

She managed to pull it together enough to take a breath and nod, and followed Firestar back out of camp. He turned left and paused when he reached the lichen curtain sheltering the den.

“I haven’t been living in here for a while,” he admitted, “so it won’t look very impressive. But every leader of ThunderClan has lived in this den—or so I was told.” He nosed aside the lichen and held it until Leopardstar was inside before following her. “Usually there’re two moss nests in here, one for me and one for guests, but… things happened, and I’ve been staying with the warriors.”

Leopardstar looked winded. Her voice was quiet. “You all do a good job of categorizing your ranks. Very… organized.”

Firestar rolled a shoulder. “I never knew why we didn’t all just sleep where we wanted, but it seems to work out okay as it is, so I haven’t questioned it too much. Does RiverClan do the same?”

“We save our dens for the queens and elders, mostly,” Leopardstar replied, still quiet. “But there’s no rule to where one sleeps, out in the open or in a den. Recently, everyone’s been blending the ranks together. To stay close, I guess.”

Firestar nodded. “That sounds nice, honestly. Everyone gets to share warmth and company.”

Leopardstar didn’t respond. Her head turned a little and stayed there, like she was staring through the den’s walls into camp. Firestar had a feeling he knew what she was thinking about.

“I hope you’ll be alright with Greystripe talking to his kits while they’re here,” he said, keeping his voice soft and friendly. “They can’t really avoid each other.”

To his surprise, Leopardstar shook her head. “It’s… good for them to see family.”

Firestar blinked, relief and surprise rolling around in his chest, unrushed and not pushing at each other. He elected to say nothing, just in case she changed her mind on that.

It was a long, quiet moment before the silence was broken—by Leopardstar.

“I still remember the last thing I said to her,” the calico said, muted.

Firestar couldn’t quite see her whole face, but from her semi-profile, he caught her dim, guilty eyes and tightened jaw.

“She…” Leopardstar swallowed. “She’d had the kits. We found out from the other queens immediately that they looked like Greystripe.” For once, her voice had no bite in it when talking about him. “Everyone was furious. I was furious. She… she was begging us to forgive her.”

Firestar said nothing. His heart broke a little at the agony sending shivers through Leopardstar’s body.

“I…” She mouthed the words before managing to say them. “I said… I told her, ‘You disgust me. You’re a disgrace to RiverClan.’ And then I turned my back on her.” Her voice had the slightest tremble in it. “She called for me twice, but I wouldn’t look her way. I didn’t turn around until she was back in the nursery.”

Firestar had a faint flicker of anger for Silverstream’s treatment, but the regret and pain on Leopardstar’s face kept him from voicing it. He watched as something heavier than a tree sagged her body down, until her head was low, like she expected a strike from some deity’s claws.

“And I never saw her again until they were carrying her out to be sent down the river,” she choked, and now she stared at nothing. “…Why would I say that? How could I say that to my own apprentice?”

Firestar stepped up to her side and spoke softly, soothingly. “These colonies have some cruel and senseless ways of thinking about things. You couldn’t help how you were raised.”

Leopardstar turned her lowered nose away, refusing to meet his eyes. “It made sense in the early years of the Clans. When cats were fighting and dying over half-Clan kits. They decided that inter-Clan relationships were illegal, and the kits that came from those would stay with the mother’s Clan. It… it stopped the fighting. It made sense. It did…”

Firestar kept his tone gentle and low. “Maybe it doesn’t anymore.”

There was a noise that could have been a harsh sigh of regret or a forced, dry chuff, and Leopardstar ever-so-slightly tilted her head towards him. “You would think that.”

Firestar’s whiskers twitched a little in half-amusement. “There are a lot of things I think that the Clans would scorn. But it seems to me that you all like to make yourselves miserable for no reason, sometimes.” Leopardstar fully looked away again, and he dared to push a little further. “Our deputy tried to kill Bluestar for ThunderClan superiority and we aren’t even allowed to talk about it, and Greystripe’s been grieving for months because some rule says he has no right to see his own kits. The first seer I ever met was murdered, and she decided she couldn’t change her fate because StarClan told her about it, even though it was supposed to be a warning. And that useless piece of land these two Clans have been fighting over, that holds nothing but rocks and some grass… there’s no reason for that, really, except habit and pride.”

At the deputy’s mention, Leopardstar flinched, but otherwise she didn’t move as Firestar spoke.

“The Clans are a wonderful place, usually,” he went on. “But I really can’t grasp some of the things you all believe. It just doesn’t make sense to me why you’d let some tradition or illusion keep you from doing what’s right and good for others.”

At this, at least, Leopardstar’s whiskers twitched and she managed to turn her eyes his way. “You’ll just do whatever you want, then.”

“For as long as I’m alive, and far past that,” Firestar confirmed with a single, confident nod. “If anyone’s got a problem with it, then they shouldn’t have put me in charge.”

Slowly, Leopardstar lifted her head. Almost under her breath, she muttered, “No wonder my Clan likes you better than me.”

Firestar wanted to protest this, but her expression—wry but somewhat defeated—kept him from arguing with her. Instead, he said, “Even being born here, there’s nothing stopping you from doing the right thing, or acting differently. We can change as many times as we want for the rest of our lives. That’s the fun thing about being alive, I think. Anything can happen, and we can make it so.”

“How optimistic,” Leopardstar said, but her tone was a little friendlier. She stood up tall again, giving the shorter leader a scrutinizing look that was, oddly, somewhat respectful. “I suppose I’ll just have to watch you and see how it’s done.”

“I’m happy to show you.” Firestar beamed at her. “Shall we rejoin our Clans? I’m sure you’d like to hear from Dustpelt about how well we organize our patrols.”

This half-chuff was more snarky than genuinely amused. “Lead on.”

As Firestar led the way out of the den and back into camp, he wondered to himself if he’d accomplished the impossible. Out of every single thing that had happened in his life, making friends with Leopardstar was not something that seemed within the limits of reality.

Well. Maybe crazier things had happened.