furMoonglacier: -gives fluffy pillow in case of future collapses- I cannot answer any of your questions due to the fact that, if I do, I will spoil things. And I do so hate spoiling things.

Inushuik: Like I said, I got bored with the idea. I just couldn't write any more. I blame it on my ridiculously short attention span. Hopefully it's here to stay, especially since I haven't been able to finish a fic longer than ten chapters for this site. -_-

Nightkill: Thanks. :)

Giggles Just Giggles: I really do appreciate the sentiment, but please don't spam reviews, okay? I'm not going to lie and say that reviews don't matter, because they're great motivational tools. Just don't do it? Merci beaucoup!

Okay, so exams start in less than a month for me. And because I am currently in the semester from hell, I really shouldn't be writing fanfiction about talking cats. Except I am, because, you know, writing fanfiction about talking cats is a lot more fun than conjugating passé compose verbs in French or figuring out what the hell slope-point form is.

So I'm blaming you guys when I fail my four exams.

Okay?

Okay. Now that that's clear, let's move on to chapter two.

CHAPTER 2

"Fireheart? Fireheart!"

Fireheart heard the voice as if it was coming from very far away, but he didn't quite register that it was speaking to him. He stirred a little, to curl into a tighter ball in his nice, warm nest of moss.

"Fireheart, wake up!"

Fireheart blinked, annoyed, and found Cinderpaw's face just a mouse-length from his own. He let out a gasp and pulled away from her, which sent his head throbbing with pain. Groaning, he muttered, "Cinderpaw, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to wake you up," Cinderpaw snapped. Fireheart stared at his ex-apprentice, slightly worried about how she was acting. What was wrong with her? Almost immediately, Cinderpaw lowered her head, as if ashamed of herself, and added, "I'm sorry. It's just, you know, Bluestar. . ."

Fireheart was puzzled for a moment. What had happened to Bluestar? He felt something nagging in the corner of his aching brain, something worrisome and terrible and that he felt awful for not remembering.

Then it clicked, and Fireheart's eyes widened in shock and grief. "Oh, StarClan," he whispered softly. "Bluestar."

Cinderpaw nodded sorrowfully. "I'm so sorry, Fireheart," she mewed softly. "I know that she was your mentor. Tigerclaw said that you saw her die."

Fireheart's eyes narrowed. "More like Tigerclaw saw her die," he growled.

Cinderpaw looked at him, confused. "What?"

Fireheart shook his head. He wasn't going to tell Cinderpaw about that. Not yet, not now, not tonight. "Never mind," he said.

"Okay. Well, it's moonhigh now. They'll be burying Bluestar soon. Yellowfang told me to let you rest, but. . . Well, I thought you would want to say goodbye," Cinderpaw said.

"I'll go," Fireheart replied, getting gingerly to his paws, his head feeling as if it was about to split into two. Almost absentmindedly, he noted that he was in the medicine cat's den. They must have taken him there after he had hit his head. "Thank you, Cinderpaw."

Cinderpaw helped him out into the clearing. ThunderClan was gathered around the body of their dead leader, their heads bowed in silence and grief. Fireheart picked his way slowly through the Clan until he stood next to Bluestar. Out of the corner of his eye, Fireheart saw his Clanmates eyeing him intently. He ignored them and bent down to nose Bluestar. Her body was stiff and cold, and the fur around her throat was matted with blood. Fireheart closed his eyes as a wave of grief and memories washed over him. He couldn't help but feel it was his fault that Bluestar was dead. If only he'd gotten to the den more quickly, he could have saved her. If only he had realized what Tigerclaw was planning. If only–

"It is time to bury Bluestar," Tigerclaw declared from the back of the crowd. Fireheart didn't look up, but he felt a rush of hatred toward the tom who had murdered his mentor.

"Goodbye, Bluestar," he meowed audibly. He reached down until his mouth was close to Bluestar, and for the leader's ears alone, he whispered, "I swear by StarClan that I will avenge you."

Fireheart listened hard for any sign that Bluestar's spirit had heard him. There was nothing.

The elders took Bluestar's body and bore it out of the camp to be buried. Fireheart stood in the middle of the clearing for a moment, his head throbbing, tired and upset and angry all at once. He sensed rather than heard someone walk up behind him, and didn't react when a cat rubbed their head against his own, except to close his eyes against the pain.

"Fireheart, are you all right?" a familiar she-cat's voice asked. It was Sandstorm, of course, one of his closest friends in all of ThunderClan.

Fireheart pulled away. "Not now, Sandstorm," he meowed softly. "I need to talk to Graystripe."

"How come?" asked Sandstorm, barring Fireheart's path as he began to pad toward the nursery. She looked almost defensive. Fireheart would have wondered why under normal circumstances, but his head was aching revealing the truth of a traitorous murderer ranked higher in his priorities than understanding the behaviour she-cats.

"I just need to see him, okay?" Fireheart said, pushing past Sandstorm. "We can talk later."

Almost as if on cue, Graystripe exited the nursery, blinking sleepily. His eyes found Fireheart and he gave himself a little shake before padding over to stand with him. Graystripe looked around the quickly-emptying camp for a moment, then turned to Fireheart and asked, "They buried Bluestar?"

Fireheart nodded, his throat tight.

Graystripe bowed his head. "I'm so sorry, Fireheart," he whispered. "Tigerclaw told the Clan that you must have witnessed her death." He looked up at Fireheart, his eyes blazing. "But it was Tigerclaw, wasn't it?"

Fireheart nodded again and cast a wary glance around, knowing full well that if the wrong cat overheard them, they would be killed for treason. "Let's leave camp for a little bit," he whispered. "I want to talk to you in private."

Graystripe cast a glance over his shoulder at the nursery, where his two kits were situated. After a pause, he nodded reluctantly but said, "Make it quick, please."

"Don't worry," Fireheart replied, steering his friend toward the gorse tunnel. When they reached the ravine, Fireheart sat down and began to wash his face, doing the best he could to ignore his aching head. As he washed himself, he whispered to Graystripe, "Bluestar was already dead when I entered her den. Tigerclaw was sitting there, pretending to be waiting for her to come back. I accused him of killing her–"

Graystripe raised a paw as if to cuff Fireheart on the ear, but remembering his injury in time, hissed instead, "Mouse-brain! Do you have a death wish? He's going to kill you for sure!"

Fireheart's head throbbed. The significance of the situation had been lost on him before, and it was only now that he realized how grave of a mistake he had made. "I wasn't thinking. I was angry and upset, okay?"

Graystripe just shook his head. "So, what are you going to do now? For some reason, I have a feeling that it's going to be suicidal," he said, deadly serious.

"I don't have any other choice but to accuse him in front of ThunderClan," Fireheart replied with a shrug.

Graystripe's eyes widened in horror. "No, you can't! They won't listen to you, Fireheart."

Fireheart stiffened slightly. "They'll believe me," he said, although doubt was beginning to creep into his mind even as he spoke. "I saw Tigerclaw lead those rogues into our camp. I know about his killing Redtail, and his injuring Cinderpaw. If I just tell the Clan–"

"At best, the Clan will think you're cracked with grief and feel sorry for you. At worst, they'll call you a traitor, and then you'll be as dead as Deadfoot's dead foot," Graystripe replied sagely.

An idea occurred to Fireheart, and he said eagerly, "What if you backed me up? They'd have to believe two of us! We'll be–"

Graystripe actually snarled at Fireheart and stuck his face right into the ginger tom's own, causing him to flinch. Practically nose to nose, Graystripe hissed, "Listen to yourself, Fireheart! Did that hit to your head damage your brain, or are you cracked with grief after all? You're mouse-brained if you think you and I can convince ThunderClan of anything. They've accepted that you're a kittypet, but when it comes down to it, you'll never quite be one of us. And me. . . they think I'm a traitor." Graystripe blinked and swallowed, and Fireheart knew that he was thinking of his mate Silverstream, mentally relieving the anguish on the riverbank as he had watched her die in birth. "If you think for one heartbeat that the word of a kittypet and a traitor will stand against the word of ThunderClan's deputy, you've learned nothing since you've come to the Clan. Best to keep a low profile, and hope that Tigerclaw doesn't rip out your throat at sunrise."

Fireheart stared at his best friend, anger, hurt, and doubt fighting a violent battle in his heart. To be told all of this in such frank terms was too much for him, especially Graystripe's kittypet comment. After working so hard to integrate himself with the warriors of ThunderClan, to learn their customs and ways and fighting techniques, hearing his best friend tell him that he could never be a true Clan cat was worse than any wound that could be received in battle. It was too much for him. He stood up and walked back to the gorse tunnel.

Halfway there, Fireheart heard paw steps behind him but didn't turn. Graystripe bounded up in front of him, blocking his way to the gorse tunnel, looking ashamed. "Fireheart, I didn't mean that," he insisted. "Really, I didn't. Of course you're a part of the Clan. I'm so sorry."

Fireheart ignored him and tried to pass, but Graystripe refused to budge.

"It's just, ever since Silverstream – well, if it weren't for you and the kits, I'd be dead at the bottom of the river," Graystripe continued quietly, his eyes fixed on the forest floor. Fireheart stared at his best friend, slack jawed, as he continued, "If you stood up to Tigerclaw, you'd die. And if I was at your side when you did, we'd both die. I'd lose you and my kits. I just don't want that to happen, Fireheart. That's the only reason I said what I said. I wasn't thinking..."

Fireheart hesitated as Graystripe's voice trailed away, his heart breaking. He had known that Silverstream's death had affected Graystripe, but not this deeply, to the point where he was on the brink of ending his own life. Slowly, Fireheart reached out and licked Graystripe between the ears, trying to be comforting. "It's okay," he meowed quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm not thinking straight. I think it's my head."

Graystripe nodded, his eyes still fixed on the ground.

Yellowfang the medicine cat chose that moment to burst out of the gorse tunnel. She was on the war path, an her eyes flashed angrily as they zeroed in on Fireheart.

"Fireheart! You're supposed to be resting, not running around like some mouse-brained hooligan!" she snapped.

Fireheart glanced at Graystripe, rolling his eyes, which made his head twinge. Graystripe, despite the very emotional moment they had just shared, actually sniggered before slipping past the other two cats and back into the camp.

"Technically, I'm not running around," Fireheart pointed out.

"None of that, now," Yellowfang said, her tail swishing back and forth dangerously. "Now, get back into the clearing, or else you'll have something more serious than a headache to deal with."

Sheepishly, Fireheart followed Yellowfang back to her den and curled up in the nest of moss that he had occupied earlier. As he settled into a comfortable position, he glanced up at Silverpelt. According to the warrior code, every star represented the spirit of a warrior who had joined StarClan. That night, there should have been a new star for Bluestar. But as Fireheart gazed upward, he felt a pang of doubt and grief. The warrior code, in which Fireheart had believed since he had joined ThunderClan, had failed to prevent Bluestar's murder. It had failed to safeguard against ambitious warriors like Tigerclaw from seizing power. It had failed Graystripe, Silverstream, and their kits. And who knew how many others the warrior code had failed?

Tonight, the warrior code just felt like words, and the stars merely cold, distant, and meaningless objects.

-X-X-X-

Fireheart awoke at sun high to find he medicine cat clearing empty. He cautiously inspected the den for any sign of Yellowfang or Cinderpaw, but both seemed to have disappeared. He wandered out into the camp, where the Clan was commencing with their lives as if their leader was not dead, and headed for the fresh-kill pile. There, he bumped into Sandstorm, who glanced at him, then looked away as if she was angry with him.

"Hi, Sandstorm," Fireheart greeted her, taking a mouse from the pile.

Sandstorm didn't reply. She walked away quickly from him, carrying her own fresh-kill with her. Fireheart, feeling a little hurt, followed her to the far corner of the camp. As Sandstorm lay down to eat with her back to him, Fireheart dropped his mouse and asked hesitantly, "So, where's Yellowfang and Cinderpaw?"

"They've gone to Mouthermouth with Tigerclaw," Sandstorm replied tersely. "So he can get his new name and nine lives. Darkstripe's in charge."

Of course, he'd want to assume his leadership as soon as possible, and leave his lackeys in charge, Fireheart thought. Still, he couldn't dwell on the problem when Sandstorm was acting so coldly toward him. "Is something wrong?" he asked her, sitting down next to Sandstorm.

Sandstorm tore furiously at her fresh-kill for a moment, acting as if she hadn't heard him. Just as Fireheart was about to repeat his question, she replied sourly, "What were you and Graystripe talking about last night?"

Fireheart's ears twitched. Is that what's got her so annoyed? he thought disbelievingly. She-cats. "I... can't tell you," Fireheart admitted.

"Of course you can't tell me," Sandstorm snapped. "You don't seem to ever tell me anything."

"No, Sandstorm, you don't get it," Fireheart said. "It's safer for you if you don't know."

Sandstorm rolled her eyes. "Fireheart, I can take care of myself as well as Graystripe can," she pointed out. "It won't kill you to tell me, will it?"

Fireheart hesitated. "No," he admitted. "Because I'll probably die for it anyway."

Sandstorm's head snapped round toward him, her attention caught. "You'll die?" she asked, flabbergasted and a little fearful.

Fireheart thought about it, then nodded. "Most likely. Still want to know about it?"

Sandstorm hesitated, cast a glance around the camp, and when she had ascertained that they were safe from eavesdroppers, whispered, "Yes."

Fireheart also cast a glance around, just to double-check, before he explained everything to Sandstorm in an undertone. The murder of Bluestar's old deputy, Redtail, Tigerclaw's plotting with the ShadowClan exiles, and his confession of killing Bluestar. When he was finished, Sandstorm shook her head. "That can't be. Tigerclaw would never do that," she said, but there was very little conviction in her voice.

"Tigerclaw's incredibly ambitious," Fireheart pointed out. "He'd do anything to become leader. And yesterday, in Bluestar's den, I said something that gave away that I knew what he was doing. Whenever Tigerclaw comes back, he'll probably accuse me of being a traitor and have me killed."

Sandstorm's eyes were round as moons. "That explains what Tigerclaw was saying to Darkstripe before he left for Mouthermouth at sunrise," Sandstorm said.

Fireheart's curiosity was piqued. "What did he say?"

"Tigerclaw told Darkstripe not to let you leave camp while he was gone," Sandstorm answered, shaking her head slowly. "When Darkstripe asked why, Tigerclaw told him, 'Because of his head.' But it's so obvious; he's afraid you'll make a break for it."

Fireheart had never considered running away. He instantly dismissed the idea as ludicrous. How could he run away from ThunderClan? He would rather die.

Sandstorm guessed what he was thinking, and said firmly, "If Tigerclaw's really that determined to kill you, I really think you should make a run for it."

"If my last words are 'Tigerclaw is a traitor' before he kills me, then so be it," Fireheart declared bravely.

Sandstorm glared at him. "Fireheart, this is no time to be noble," she said. "I'm serious. You should leave right now, you and Graystripe, before it's too late."

Fireheart wished he had never told Sandstorm about Tigerclaw. It would have been much easier that way. "Graystripe can't leave his kits behind," he said, remembering Graystripe's confession to him earlier that night. "If we left, Tigerclaw would kill them for sure. And I can't leave the Clan behind."

Sandstorm, who had already finished her fresh-kill, began to bury the scraps. "I could look after the kits," she proposed. "They're with Goldenflower now, right? And Goldenflower is Tigerclaw's mate. She loves them like they're her own. She could convince him to spare their lives. And if not, I'll smuggle them over to RiverClan. It would be better for them there than here."

"And where exactly are we supposed to go?" Fireheart asked, his resolve beginning to weaken as Sandstorm laid out her arguments against his. "We'd be lucky if any of the Clans would let us off their territory without tearing out our throats. RiverClan hates Graystripe, ShadowClan hates us in general, and WindClan wouldn't want to take exiles. Because that's exactly what we would be if we ran away. Exiles."

Sandstorm had to concede defeat on that point. "Give up Clan life then," she suggested.

"And do what, go back to Twolegplace? Never," Fireheart replied firmly. "No, Sandstorm, I'm staying in ThunderClan."

"You toms," Sandstorm snapped, getting to her paws abruptly. She looked angry and upset. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

And with that, she stalked away.

Fireheart watched her go, sadness stabbing at his heart. Unbidden, a single thought occurred to him; I'm going to miss her in StarClan.

-X-X-X-

As Tigerclaw (or Tigerstar, as he had been renamed at Mothermouth) padded into camp with the medicine cats behind him, a few of the warriors noticed him and called out his new name. The other warriors emerged from their dens and joined in, taking up the chant, "Tigerstar! Tigerstar!"

Tigerstar gave them a condescending smile as his eyes swept the crowd for Darkstripe. When he caught the tabby's eye, Tigerstar inclined his head toward the leader's den, where they could get some privacy. Darkstripe, catching his hint, accompanied Tigerstar inside the den. Tigerstar sat and regarded Darkstripe with a cold gaze, and asked, "Did Fireheart leave camp today?"

Darkstripe shook his head. "Not at all."

Tigerstar's lip curled in satisfaction. So Fireheart hasn't had a chance to escape, he thought. Excellent. Aloud he said,"Now, I'm about to call a Clan meeting, Darkstripe. The meeting will have two important items on the agenda. One, I will be appointing a new deputy."

Darkstripe attempted to keep his expression blank, but Tigerstar saw a glimmer of ambition in his friend's eyes. Darkstripe was the cat that Tigerstar trusted the most, and was a natural choice for deputy. Still, Tigerstar didn't like that look. He would still appoint Darkstripe deputy, of course, but he would have to keep his eye on the tom. "The other is to get rid of our resident kittypet and traitor. For good, if you know what I mean."

Darkstripe's whiskers twitched in a smile. "On what grounds?" he asked eagerly.

"While I was receiving my nine lives, StarClan revealed to me the identity of Bluestar's killer," Tigerstar said. Of course, he was lying; no such thing had occurred. Still, this was the speech he was planning on giving the Clan, and it was the story he would stick to in the moons to come. "Fireheart was Bluestar's true killer. He was hoping to pin her murder on me so that I would be disgraced and exiled, then assume the possession of leader in my place. And, of course, he was assisted by that dirty traitor, that Graystripe."

Darkstripe's eyes shone with glee. He hated Fireheart almost as much as Tigerstar did, and Tigerstar could tell that Darkstripe didn't understand that Fireheart was a threat. He just wanted to be rid of the kittypet as soon as possible.

"Now, when I reveal this to the Clan, I want you to call for their deaths. Others will take up the cry, and as leader, I must have give the Clan what they want, mustn't I?" Tigerstar asked.

Darkstripe nodded eagerly.

"Remember, the other item of business is to appoint a new deputy," Tigerstar reminded him, just to be sure that Darkstripe would comply.

"Yes, of course, Tigerstar," Darkstripe said, still nodding. "Thank you. Will you call the Clan meeting right away?"

"Yes, I'll do so right now," Tigerstar said. "Now, get out of here."

Darkstripe scatted. Tigerstar remained in his den for a moment, bracing himself for another grand performance. Then he exited the leader's den – his den – and leapt to the top of Highrock. "Let all Clan cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

Obediently, cats began to assemble beneath Highrock. Tigerstar spotted Fireheart and Graystripe sitting together at the fringe of the crowd. Both looked tense, as if they knew what was coming. Tigerstar tore his gaze away from the two toms and looked down at his Clanmates.

"ThunderClan, as you know, I journeyed to Mothermouth so that I may be given my new name and my nine lives, as befits a leader," Tigerstar began. He saw several Clan cats nodding and continued, "And as I shared tongues with StarClan, they revealed something of great importance to me in a dream; the identity of Bluestar's killers."

He had the Clan's entire attention now. Their eyes were fixated upon Tigerstar, and no one stirred. Tigerstar felt a faint thrill of excitement in his stomach as he added, "Fireheart, Graystripe. Please step forward."

Graystripe shot Fireheart a panicky glance. Fireheart's eyes were as round as the moon in the sky, but all the same, he stood up and padded toward Highrock, his head held high, his eyes defiant. Yes, Tigerstar thought, watching Fireheart approach. He knows what's coming. Graystripe trailed after Fireheart, and when they reached the base of Highrock, Tigerstar ordered, "Turn and face ThunderClan."

They did so, their backs to Tigerstar. The two toms were so close that Tigerstar could smell the fear rolling off their bodies. Tigerstar's lip curled, relishing the moment. It was time to snuff out the fire before it consumed him.

"My fellow warriors," Tigerstar declared from his position atop Highrock, "see before you those who have killed our beloved leader."

You want to kill me right now, don't you? In my defence, this chapter is over 4k. If I kept going, it could have been 5k or more, and I didn't want it to drag on and on and on. . .

. . . And also I think it's funny to throw you a cliffhanger. 0:)