CHAPTER 29

It was getting easier, just being with Patchkit and Waiting Falcon without the unquenchable pain of loss constricting her throat like claws. Mapledawn could hardly believe how much grief she'd had to endure in just a few months; first their fallen Clanmates, then Bloomspirit, who should have become a warrior with her, then reliving every ounce of bone-crushing grief from her past life, then losing Larchkit and Petalkit all over again… Not to mention leaving the entire Clan, her whole family, behind. Sitting curled around Patchkit as he suckled at her belly, with Waiting Falcon cleaning the tricky spot behind his ear tufts at her side, she realized how much she missed Clan life. She missed Dapplecreek's affectionate support, Redpoppy's warm, motherly scent, Thrushflight's optimistic cheer. She missed Acorntail, always trying to do the right thing, the fair thing. Yellowstar's fierce, strong leadership. Paletuft announcing the day's patrols. Beechwhisker and Oaktree grumbling in the elder's den. Fallensnow's kits gamboling about her paws. They'd be apprentices now, wouldn't they? she realized with a sinking feeling. I always thought I'd mentor Skykit… But I guess that's out of the question now.

"Raven, Soot, hush." Cinders yawned and flicked her tail irritably. "It's barely dawn." The two kits were running in circles around the nest.

"I'll bring you some prey." Waiting Falcon licked the top of Mapledawn's head.

"Thanks, Waiting Falcon."

He was such a decent tom, though he was still mysterious. Mapledawn didn't understand what made the sturdy tabby tom so certain of her, so ready to take care of her. When they'd first met she'd figured him for a wanderer, someone with a thirst for adventure, with few ties keeping him in one place. But ever since Patchkit--and sweet Larhckit and Petalkit--came, he'd hardly left her side, except to catch food for them both. Unshaken Leaf said he was "special," maybe chosen for something, some sacred duty. But wasn't this—being a father to her only kit—sacred enough?

"Maple Dawn! Can Patchkit come play with us?" squeaked Raven from the other nest.

"Patchkit's still too small, darling." She purred warmly at the young tom. "We have to wait until his eyes are open."

Raven stopped playing with his sister and came up to Mapledawn's nest. "Okay. I'll wait for you, Patchkit. I bet your eyes are really pretty."

Patchkit turned his wobbly head to the sound of Raven's voice, opened his small, pink mouth, and meowed loudly.

"Eek! It's a fox! Hurry, Soot, it's gonna get you!" And they were back to playing again.

"Here." Waiting Falcon had two sparrows and three mice. He cut off the mouse tails and threw them over to Soot and Raven with a wink, telling them to pretend they were snakes. "You must be starving."

"I'm always starving." Mapledawn tore into the mice first, while Waiting Falcon ate a sparrow.

Waiting Falcon purred warmly as she licked bits of blood from her maw. "That's a good sign. Plenty of milk for Patchkit."

"My precocious little warrior," Mapledawn purred.

"Warrior, huh?" Waiting Falcon flashed her a knowing look.

"I guess that wasn't subtle."

"You're a loyal FireClan cat." He licked her soothingly between the ears. "Nothing can change that."

"Maple Dawn?" Raven blinked at her from the other nest, already bored with the mouse tail. "Can you tell me a story about warrior cats?"

"Come over here, then. But be gentle." She tucked a sleeping Patchkit closer to her belly. "Patchkit is still very small."

"I'll be gentle." Raven seemed to take the task very seriously as he stepped over Mapledawn's kit and curled up at the edge of the nest. "What exactly is a warrior, anyway? Do they have super powers?"

"No, little one," Mapledawn laughed. "They're just cats, like you, and Cinders, and River of Starlight. But we follow a sacred tradition that goes back generations--since before any living cat can remember."

"What's 'tradition' mean?"

'Well… It's a way we do things that other cats don't. We have special rules called the warrior code. It makes sure we take care of each other. Elders and nursing queens always eat first. Things like that. Plus we guard our borders with tooth and claw…" Mapledawn's voice trailed off. Actually, that's a huge part of what we do—and yet… Wouldn't it be better if we had someone in charge of that? Or special training? Maybe rotating shifts… She tapped her tail thoughtfully against the nest. The deputy can't be responsible for every little task. That's how things get missed. Forgotten. If we'd had a, say, Leader of the Guards on the night Scratchface attacked--

"But we do that here," Raven mewed, interrupting her thoughts. "That's not special."

"Ah, but the Clans are special. See, each of the four Clans survives in a unique way. TallClan are great runners, super fast, skinny like rabbits. CrookedClan are patient fishercats. BlackClan are stealthy and hardy--plus they'll eat anything, even frogs," Mapledawn said with a dramatic grimace. Raven stuck out his tongue and giggled. "And then there's FireClan. The best Clan of them all."

"What's FireClan?"

Mapledawn smiled and lay back in the nest. "Let me tell you all about it." She started from her earliest memories--as Mapledawn, not Mapleshade. The other memories were there: climbing an oak tree after a squirrel while Bloomheart looked on with mingled pride and worry; how scared she was when she saw the ShadowClan leader Lizardstar, massive and imposing on his perch at her first Gathering; getting punished by Beetail for eating a shrew on hunting patrol. But those memories felt different. Like she was remembering an elder's tale with vivid color.

"I didn't know how lucky I was when Yellowstar named Dapplecreek my mentor," she said purring. "She's kind and fair and intelligent. All our cats are, even grouchy old Jaggedclaw. Don't get me wrong," she added. "FireClan has had its troubles in the past. Its rotten cats." She pictured Oakstar: the cold rage in his amber eyes when he banished her, tiny kits in toe, from ThunderClan; in StarClan, still foreboding and malevolent despite the stars in his faded fur, warning her to watch her pelt. She tried to shake the memory off.

"One day I'll tell you the legend of the fearsome Tigerclaw!" She unsheathed her claws and growled in mock savagery until Raven squealed in pretend fear. Mapledawn chuckled. "Tyrants aside, FireClan has always been special. Thunderstar. Yellowstar. Firestar, our namesake. Redpoppy and Thrushflight. Webclaw, Oaktree… FireClan has produced the bravest, kindest, most loyal cats in all the world."

"What's FireClan like now?" Raven mewed, throwing Mapledawn off guard.

"It's…" In trouble? In mourning? On the brink of all-out war with BlackClan, if Weaselstar doesn't drive out Scratchface? She couldn't tell a kit all that. "Well, Raven, FireClan's having a hard time right now. But that happens in the Clans. As long as they take care of each other, everything will work out fine."

"Sounds hard." Raven opened his little mouth and yawned.

"Living anywhere is hard," Waiting Falcon put in. "But we're lucky here, little one, just like FireClan is. We get to feel the sun on our fur and the grass between our claws."

Raven cocked his head at the big tabby tom. "I guess," he said.

Patchkit pricked his ears and started mewling. "A mother's work is never done," Mapledawn told Waiting Falcon with a wink. "Raven, best get back to your own nest now."

The days passed so gently with the Clearpool cats. Waiting Falcon was there every morning with prey, every evening with kind words. Mist Shadow checked on her from time to time to see how she and Patchkit were faring. On a cool leaf-fall day, three strange cats with even stranger names appeared in the Lesser Oak Crash—Pig, Butter, and Billy. The scent of new cats made Mapledawn's hackles raise at first, but when Mist Shadow and Lark's Call started showing them around the territory, pointing out the best spots for prey and nests, she remembered her first night with the Clearpool cats after her raging fever eased. Strangers were nothing to be feared here. Territory wasn't owned, so it couldn't be stolen. It's not the way I'd do things, Mapledawn thought, curling around her son and dipping her head politely when the new cats passed her nest, but it works. It's safe.

Raven came over to her nest every day, waiting, she thought, for Patchkit's eyes to finally open.

Mapledawn curled around her kit--still small and shy, but growing stronger every day--and purred. Life is good here. But a worm of fear always followed that: Is FireClan surviving?