Slowly but surely, Firepaw's injuries began to heal. He spent most of his time in camp, so the recovery process was a bit faster than when he'd nearly died battling at Sunningrocks. Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw kept him entertained with stories of their training adventures, and Cinderkit was always pleasant company. Eventually, Firepaw recovered enough that Bluestar allowed him to go out for hunting patrols, although he was told to keep any battle training to a minimum.

The ginger apprentice spent a few hunting sessions with Tigerclaw and Ravenpaw, and it was clear that something had changed in the tabby warrior. Although never especially friendly, he seemed colder and more distant now. He rarely laughed or even seemed amused by Firepaw's stories now, instead choosing to tell him to stop wasting time and take his training seriously, and he also seemed much more at ease with ordering cats around and threatening punishment for the slightest misdemeanor. Firepaw suspected that he was just stressed out from the extra work of being Clan deputy, but that didn't stop him from getting annoyed on several occasions.

One day, Firepaw received the news that Brindleface's kits had been born and everyone was taking turns meeting them. Bluestar was visiting her now, so Firepaw decided to see Yellowfang while he waited for his turn. The former ShadowClan medicine cat was sitting by her nest, grooming her fur. She still wasn't the most hygienic cat by any means, but she was at least less matted and unkempt than when she'd first been brought to ThunderClan.

"Firepaw," she meowed when she saw him coming. "Are you going in to see the new kits?"

"In a bit," he replied. "What about you?"

Yellowfang shook her head. "I don't think I'd be very welcome," she growled.

"But they know you saved the kits from Blackfoot," Firepaw pointed out.

"A queen is very protective of her newborn litter. I think I'll stay away," Yellowfang replied in a voice that invited no argument.

Firepaw dipped his head. "Suit yourself," he meowed. "I'll go see them and then I'll bring you a piece of prey later."

"You do that, Firepaw," the old gray molly meowed tiredly, resting her head on her paws and closing her eyes. Firepaw thought she was asleep until she meowed, "Oh, and Firepaw, I hope you haven't gotten any ideas into your head about ShadowClan."

"No, Yellowfang," the flame-pelted apprentice replied, only half-lying. He had been trying to come up with ideas on how to stop Brokenstar, but none of them were reasonably workable.

He turned and padded away towards the nursery, arriving just as Bluestar was pushing her way out. Whitestorm was standing guard by the entrance and nodded to Firepaw as he came closer.

"Firepaw," Bluestar greeted him. "Have you come to meet ThunderClan's newest warriors?"

"Yes, Bluestar," Firepaw replied, feeling slightly surprised. Her tone sounded weary and almost sad, and her eyes, though filled with warmth as she looked at him, seemed slightly duller than usual.

"Well, when you're done, come see me in my den," the ThunderClan leader meowed, turning away and padding towards the Highrock.

Firepaw watched his leader go for a moment before turning around and pushing his way into the nursery. Brindleface was lying down in her nest, four small kittens suckling at her belly. The tabby queen looked exhausted, but her eyes were glowing with pride.

"They're gorgeous," Firepaw breathed, looking down at the tiny kittens with wonder.

"Thank you, dear," Brindleface purred.

"If Cinderkit is any indication, Firepaw will be great friends with your little ones," Goldenflower meowed from her own nest. Brindleface meowed in agreement.

"What are their names?" Firepaw asked, trying to suppress a twinge of embarrassment.

"The pale gray molly is named Fernkit," Brindleface meowed, touching one kit with the tip of her tail. "And the pale gray toms are Ashkit and Tulipkit. The dark gray tom is named Elderkit."

Firepaw talked with Brindleface for a few more moments before meowing goodbye to her and leaving the nursery. He passed by Dustpaw on the way out and was surprised to see the older apprentice until he remembered that Brindleface was his sister, although born in a different litter. Flicking his ear in greeting, he strode past the brown tabby and headed for Bluestar's den. Longtail was standing guard outside but took no notice of Firepaw as he pushed his way through the curtain of lichen.

"Ah, Firepaw," Bluestar greeted him.

"Hello, Bluestar," Firepaw meowed. "Brindleface's kits are lovely."

His mentor looked serious. "Lovely they may be, but their births mean more mouths to feed and the Clan will have a hard time sustaining itself come leaf-bare." She noticed Firepaw frown at her tone. "Oh, don't mind me. The first cold wind always worries me. How have you been doing?"

"Better," Firepaw answered. "Though Tigerclaw's being a grump lately."

"So I've heard," Bluestar meowed in amusement. "There was a time, when Tigerclaw was a young warrior, that I feared for the strength of his passion. Such energy can often need careful channeling. But now I am proud to see how much respect the Clan has for him. I know he is ambitious, but his ambition makes him one of the bravest cats I have ever had the honor to fight alongside."

"He is," the ginger apprentice agreed. "Although I'd like nothing more than to swallow him sometimes."

Bluestar's eyes sparkled with laughter. "Oh dear. Adolescence in full swing, I see." Firepaw pouted, and she added, "Or not. You still act like a kit, I see."

"Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional," Firepaw replied haughtily, and Bluestar chuckled.

Her next words were quiet and full of concern. "You know Brokenstar will return. He made it clear at the Gathering that he wants hunting rights in all territories."

"We fought him off once. We can do it again," Firepaw insisted.

"That is true," Bluestar acknowledged, licking his forehead. "StarClan will honor your courage, little one." She paused to lick a healing wound in her side. "I think you should know that in the battle with the rats, it was not my fifth life I lost, but my seventh."

Firepaw sat bolt upright, shocked.

Bluestar went on. "I have let the Clan believe that it was my fifth life because I don't want them to fear for my safety. But two more lives, and I will have to leave you to join StarClan."

Her eyes traveled over Firepaw's face for a moment, and for a brief moment, her expression filled with longing and sorrow. But it was gone before he could be entirely sure of what he saw.

"Thank you for telling me this, Bluestar," he purred respectfully.

Bluestar nodded. "I am tired now," she rasped. "Off you go. And Firepaw, I don't expect you to repeat this conversation to anyone."

"Of course, Bluestar," Firepaw replied as he nosed his way out of the curtain of lichen.

Longtail was still sitting by the entrance. Firepaw pushed his way past him, his mind spinning. He wasn't sure which part of his conversation with Bluestar had been more confusing.

He was stopped in his tracks by a yowl of horror coming from the nursery. Frostfur came sprinting into the clearing, her fur bristling and her eyes wide with alarm. "My kits! Someone has taken my kits!"

Tigerclaw bounded over to her. He called to the Clan, "Quick, search the camp! Whitestorm, stay where you are. Warriors, patrol the camp boundary. Apprentices, search every den."

Firepaw rushed to the nearest den, the warriors', and pushed his way inside. It was empty. He scrabbled through a few nests, but there was no sign of Frostfur's kits anywhere. Every hair on his pelt stuck up on end. There was no denying it. ShadowClan had to be involved with this.

But if they did take the kits, chances are, they're not here anymore.

He scanned the clearing for Yellowfang, spotting her pushing her way through a patch of fern wall. Assuming she had found a scent, Firepaw raced over just as she was disappearing into the greenery. By the time he had arrived, she had gone. There was no trace of kit-scent, just the bitter smell of Yellowfang's fear.

Tigerclaw's yowl sounded from the bushes behind the nursery. All the cats raced over to him, headed by Frostfur. They crowded as close as they could, jostling to see through the dense undergrowth. Firepaw nosed his way forward and found Tigerclaw standing over a motionless bundle of dappled fur.

Spottedleaf!

Firepaw stared in disbelief at his medicine mentor's lifeless body. Fury rose in him like a dark cloud, and he felt the blood roaring in his ears. Who had done this?

Bluestar stepped forward and leaned over the medicine cat. "She has been killed by a warrior blow," she meowed softly. There was a single wound on the back of Spottedleaf's neck.

He shook his head, tossing his grief away. Now wasn't the time for weakness. He knew where the kits had been taken–maybe he didn't know exactly who took them, but he knew where they were going–and he needed to catch up to Yellowfang. Turning around, he began pushing his way through the throng of cats when a murmur started up from the back, which slowly grew into a single piercing yowl.

"Yellowfang is gone!"

Yes, so let me get through, you mouse-brains! Firepaw thought in exasperation, still trying to push his way past his Clanmates.

"Yellowfang has killed Spottedleaf and taken my kits!" Frostfur screeched. The other queens crowded around her and tried to comfort her with caresses and licks, but she pushed them aside and wailed her grief to the darkening sky. As if in response, the sky rumbled ominously, and a cold wind ruffled the cats' fur.

"No, no she didn't!" Firepaw meowed quickly. He knew he was inviting trouble for himself by speaking up, but he couldn't let the Clan believe that Yellowfang had murdered Spottedleaf and stolen Cinderkit and her siblings. Not when she was their only hope of getting them back.

"How would you know?" Speckletail demanded, rounding on him.

Firepaw forced himself to meet her gaze. "I saw her leaving before Tigerclaw found Spottedleaf," he replied. "She didn't have the kits with her, nor was there any scent of them when I went over to see where she was going."

He could see the queens' fur beginning to lie flat. "Do you know where she went?" Goldenflower asked. She was calmer than the rest of the queens, though her eyes betrayed her worry.

"I do," Firepaw replied steadily. "She told me, after the battle with ShadowClan that...but there isn't time now. Whoever took Frostfur's kits will probably have gotten where they need to go by now."

"Bluestar!" Darkstripe called out. "What do you say?"

"We don't know that she didn't kill Spottedleaf," Tigerclaw growled. "Just because she didn't take the kits doesn't mean she isn't involved."

"Check yourself, then," Firepaw snapped, losing what little patience he had left. "It will only take a couple of heartbeats. Get a good sniff and you'll be able to discern whether Yellowfang killed her or not."

Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes at him, but Bluestar nodded to Mousefur, who padded over and sniffed at Spottedleaf's body. The dusky brown queen lifted her head after a moment and shook her head.

"Firepaw is correct. Spottedleaf was not killed by Yellowfang," she meowed, and a murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd.

"Alright, so you're right," Tigerclaw meowed, turning to face the younger tom. "But how do you know about what happened? What has Yellowfang been telling you? And how are you so certain about where the kits have gone?"

But Firepaw ignored him, turning instead to face Bluestar. "Bluestar," he meowed urgently. "I have to go. I don't know how far Yellowfang has gotten now, but I need to catch up to her."

Bluestar hesitated for a moment. Her gaze swept over Spottedleaf's body before landing on Firepaw, and the flame-colored cat saw just how much she wanted to refuse. He met her gaze as steadily as he could, showing her that he had no intention of backing down. There was no choice; he had to do this, for Spottedleaf, but also for Cinderkit and her siblings, for all the kits who had been murdered by Brokenstar and all those who would continue to suffer under his reign. Maybe he wasn't strong enough to take down ShadowClan, maybe his injuries would get in the way again, but whatever he had in him now would just have to be enough. She shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

"Very well," she meowed softly. "But you're not going alone. Whitestorm, Mousefur, and Darkstripe, you three go with him as well."

The three warriors nodded, then Sandpaw stepped forward.

"I'm going too," she insisted. "Those kits are my kin."

"Me too," Graypaw meowed grimly.

"And me," Ravenpaw insisted. He looked slightly more apprehensive than his denmates, but his voice rang out with determination.

They turned to look at Dustpaw, but the tabby apprentice narrowed his eyes. "If you four want to chase after a traitor, be my guest," he sneered. "I'm staying here."

"Fine," Firepaw snapped back. "We weren't going to invite a coward like you anyway."

"Go now, all of you," Bluestar meowed, breaking up the argument before it could escalate further.

Firepaw turned and followed Whitestorm as he led the patrol of cats towards the gorse tunnel. Just before they reached it, his ears pricked as he heard Frostfur calling out to him.

"Firepaw!" the white-furred queen called, bounding over to him. He turned to face her.

"Yes? What is it?" he asked worriedly.

Frostfur met his gaze steadily. "I'm counting on you," she meowed firmly. "Bring my kits back home safe."

Firepaw dipped his head to her. "I won't rest until we've found them," he promised solemnly.

For you and for Cinderkit...and for Lionheart and Redtail, who died to protect us from the Clan who stole your children. For Spottedleaf, who was like a sister to me and taught me everything I know about healing, and for Yellowfang, driven from one Clan because of false accusations and now stands to risk being chased out of another. I promise I won't rest until your kits are back home and the cats responsible for this are gone.