Cinderpelt was furious when Fireheart returned to the camp.
"Don't aggravate your wounds, I told you. Don't get into any fights, I told you. What do you do? You get into a battle with Tigerstar, of all cats! I'm amazed you even survived!" the gray medicine cat raged. Fireheart wondered if she'd picked up a few of Yellowfang's characteristics.
"Cinderpelt," Brindleface meowed softly. "Fireheart saved my life."
"That's all very well," Cinderpelt replied, still glaring at her former mentor. "But that doesn't change the fact that he's a complete idiot. Honestly, Fireheart, sometimes I think you have a death wish."
"Only sometimes," Fireheart grunted, hoping for a chuckle. All he got was a scowl. "Alright, alright. I get it. Not funny."
His former apprentice sighed and started applying cobwebs and herbs to his wounds. He winced as the juices stung his flank, but willed himself not to protest. After all, it was his own fault that he was in this situation in the first place; he recognized that if nothing else.
"So, what were you doing anyway?" Cinderpelt asked, pressing another cobweb onto a cut on his back left leg.
"Oh, that," Fireheart meowed. "Well, we found out what the 'pack' is."
At once, Cinderpelt was alert, her blue eyes trained on him as she continued treating his wounds. He took a moment to admire her ability to perform two tasks at once before continuing his report.
"Tigerstar's been feeding a pack of dogs at Snakerocks," he meowed, watching as Cinderpelt's eyes widened in horror. "He's laid a trail of them straight back to camp."
"Fireheart and Whitestorm were tracking the trail when they found him attacking Brindleface," Sandstorm, who had been silent the whole time, spoke up from where she was licking her mother's flank. "We think he wanted to kill her so he could give the pack a taste for cat blood. Fortunately–or rather, unfortunately for him–Fireheart here is a noble idiot and jumped in to save her."
Fireheart glared halfheartedly at his mate. "Hey, you were there too," he reminded her.
"I didn't fight, though. And I'm not the one recovering from a life-threatening wound," Sandstorm reminded him sternly. Fireheart opened his mouth to protest, then closed it in frustration. "That's what I thought."
A few heartbeats later, Fernpaw, Ashpaw, and Cloudtail came racing into the medicine den, followed closely by Bluestar. Brindleface purred at the sight of her younger kits, who all came up to her and nuzzled her affectionately. The ThunderClan leader, meanwhile, padded over to Fireheart, her icy blue eyes filled with concern.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Well, I'm not unconscious again, so I suppose that's a good thing," Fireheart meowed, half-joking. Bluestar rolled her eyes.
"Thank you for saving our mother, Fireheart," Fernpaw meowed, turning his attention towards her. Her green eyes were shining with relief and gratitude.
"Yes, thank you," Cloudtail and Ashpaw echoed. Fireheart's nephew's eyes were filled with gratitude as well, something he didn't see often from the headstrong young warrior.
"Don't mention it," Fireheart meowed. "Anyway," he added, turning to face Bluestar again, "what's the plan for dealing with the dogs?"
"Actually, I was going to ask for your help with that," the blue-gray queen replied. "However"–her blue eyes narrowed–"you will not be taking part in the plan, whatever it ends up being. Is that clear?"
Fireheart had been expecting that and merely nodded. Then he frowned as another thought occurred to him. "What about you? Are you going to take part in it?"
Bluestar hesitated for a moment. "I had planned on it, yes–"
"Please don't," he interrupted. Her eyes flashed, and he immediately added, "I'm sorry. But what if you die?"
He lowered his voice so that only she could hear him and added, "Don't forget that this is your last life. If you lose it, I can't take over the leadership now. I'm still recovering from my wounds. If Cinderpelt has her way, I won't be allowed to perform any of my duties for at least a moon."
Bluestar gazed at him for a few heartbeats, several emotions flashing through her eyes. Finally, she meowed, "Very well. I'll stay back."
Fireheart breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
"Right," his leader meowed. "Now, let's move on to the plan, shall we?"
"Yes," Fireheart agreed, narrowing his eyes as he tried to analyze the situation in front of them. "Well, I think we can rule out trying to fight the dogs. Even the most skilled warriors have trouble against Twolegs' dogs, and if these really are as big as Longtail said, we'll all be slaughtered before we can say 'mouse'. Dogs aren't very good climbers, but the elders and kits would never make it up a tree. We could try moving the Clan to Sunningrocks, but even then, the pack would still be able to hunt us down."
"Taking them to Sunningrocks would be a good start, though," Bluestar meowed. "If we leave soon, we'll be able to get there before the pack can reach us."
"Yes, but then we have to figure out how to get rid of the pack," Fireheart pointed out.
He curled his lip, trying to formulate a reasonable plan in his mind. Climbing trees and fighting the dogs head-on would never work, but what other options did that leave? Some of the Clan were certainly fast enough to outrun a pack of dogs, but they couldn't very well run forever. No matter where they ran, the dogs would eventually catch them. Unless...
Fireheart's eyes widened as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "The gorge!" he exclaimed aloud.
"What about it?" Bluestar asked, frowning.
"What if we had our fastest warriors lure the dogs over the gorge?" he clarified. "If cats have drowned there, why not dogs?"
Bluestar looked thoughtful. "That might work," she agreed. "Who do you suggest?"
Fireheart thought for a few heartbeats. "Longtail, Dustpelt, and Mousefur," he meowed finally. "Longtail was the one who discovered the pack, so he deserves to be part of this. And Dustpelt and Mousefur are two of our fastest warriors."
"Three warriors might not be enough," Sandstorm pointed out. "Why don't I go too?"
"But–" Fireheart started to protest, then broke off. He knew Sandstorm hated it when someone tried to protect her, but he couldn't stand the thought of her plunging into the icy, rapid-churning water in the gorge–or worse, being torn to shreds by vicious, savage dogs. "I..."
Sandstorm pressed her nose to his cheek. "I'll be fine," she promised.
Fireheart hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "I'll hold you to that."
She licked his cheek and he turned to face Bluestar again, who was gazing at him sympathetically. "Right," he meowed. "I think that's that, then. Should we tell the rest of the Clan?"
Bluestar nodded and padded out of the den. Fireheart struggled to his paws and followed after her, his weight being supported by Sandstorm and Cloudtail. As he entered the clearing, Bluestar leaped on top of the Highrock and gave the familiar call for the Clan to gather for a meeting.
"Cats of ThunderClan, we don't have much time," she began, once everyone had settled down beneath the Highrock. "There's no good way to say this, so I'll just give everything to you straight. Tigerstar has been feeding a pack of dogs at Snakerocks and plans to lure them to our camp. The trail has already been set, so the dogs will probably be on their way soon if they haven't started already."
Shocked and horrified yowls rose from the surrounding cats. The ThunderClan leader had to raise her voice to make herself heard over the commotion.
"Fireheart and I have devised a plan to deal with the pack," she went on. "Longtail, Mousefur, Dustpelt, and Sandstorm, you'll take turns leading the dogs to the gorge. The rest of us will go to Sunningrocks to wait."
"And what if the pack still hunts us down?" Smallear called out from the back of the clearing.
"We'll deal with that later," Bluestar replied. "Right now, we need to get moving. All of you take a piece of fresh-kill, but please do hurry. We don't want to waste too much time."
She leaped down from the Highrock, signaling that the meeting was over. At once, the rest of the Clan started making their way toward the fresh-kill pile, each of them taking a piece of prey and wolfing it down quickly. Fireheart watched them, not in the mood to eat. The knowledge that these next moments might be the last ones he ever had with Sandstorm had caused him to lose his appetite.
Fortunately, he was spared from thinking about it too much when Bramblepaw came bounding up to him, his amber eyes shining with worry. "Fireheart, are you okay? What happened?"
"I'm fine, Bramblepaw," Fireheart meowed, deciding not to tell his apprentice about the fight with Tigerstar. No need to burden his apprentice with the knowledge that his father had attacked his mentor. "Just had a bit of an unfortunate encounter."
"A bit of an unfortunate encounter, indeed," Bluestar meowed, padding over to join them. "As you do, Fireheart."
Fireheart pulled a face at his former mentor. "You know, Bluestar, I swear to StarClan if you weren't Clan leader..."
"But I am," she interrupted, with the faintest trace of smugness in her voice. "And as such, I'm afraid you're going to have to postpone whatever horrifying threats you have planned for me. Now, we're going to be leaving soon, so I suggest you get ready."
Fireheart nodded and walked over to the gorse tunnel with Bramblepaw, where the rest of the Clan were already waiting. The cats who would be leading the dogs to the gorge were standing separate from the rest of the group, each of them pawing at the ground anxiously. He approached Sandstorm, who was standing at the back of the line and touched his nose to her cheek.
"Good luck," he meowed.
"I'll be fine," she meowed softly. "You just make sure you take care of the rest of the Clan."
"You know I will," he murmured, finally tearing himself away from her and going to join Bluestar at the head of the cats who would be seeking refuge at Sunningrocks. She gently touched the tip of her tail to his leg, then turned to face the rest of her warriors.
"Are we all ready?" she asked. Several mews of agreement sounded from the Clan. "Good. Then we should go."
Fireheart sat at the edge of Sunningrocks, the tip of his tail twitching with anxiety. It was well into the evening now, and there was still no sign of Sandstorm or any of the other cats who had gone to take the dogs to the gorge. He tried to reassure himself that this was a good sign. Surely, he told himself, if the dogs had caught any of them, they would have found the rest of the Clan by now. Yet somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling of fear churning in his stomach.
"Are you alright?"
The ginger tom looked over to see Bluestar sitting next to him, her gaze filled with sympathy. At the look, Fireheart felt something inside of him deflate and he looked away.
"I don't know," he meowed. "I'm just..."
"I know you're worried about Sandstorm," his mentor meowed gently. "But she's a strong, capable young warrior. She'll make it out of this, Fireheart."
"By StarClan's will, I suppose?" he asked bitterly.
Bluestar sighed. "Don't tell me you've started–"
"I haven't," Fireheart interrupted, already knowing what she was going to say. "But I am starting to realize that perhaps StarClan isn't as powerful as we thought they were. We've all got to fight our own battles, so leaving anything up to their 'will' is just going to get us all killed in the end. If Sandstorm makes it out, it will be because she was fast enough to outrun the dogs, not because StarClan willed it or anything." His tone grew even more bitter as he added, "I just wish I could be there to help, but instead, I'm just stuck here."
"I know it's frustrating," Bluestar meowed soothingly. "But you can't always save everyone, Fireheart."
Fireheart let out a sigh and she licked his ears gently. Wearily, he rested his head on her shoulder, feeling rather like a kit being comforted by his mother. In any other instance, he would have been embarrassed, but he was too stressed out and worried to care right now.
Somewhere, he thought he could hear the very faint sounds of cats screeching and a vicious, rabid snarling, and he prayed that they were only figments of his imagination.