A Dangerous Path Read Online Free PDF Page B

patrol.”
    Longtail hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure whether that was an order from his deputy or not. “We were going to thetraining hollow,” he explained. “Swiftpaw needs to practice his defense moves.”
    â€œYou can do that later.” This time Fireheart made it clear that he was giving an order. “The Clan needs fresh-kill first.”
    Longtail flicked his tail irritably but said nothing. Swiftpaw was looking more enthusiastic, his eyes bright. The young black-and-white tom had grown almost as big as his mentor, Fireheart noticed; he was the oldest of the apprentices, and he could expect to be made a warrior soon.
    I must talk to Bluestar about his naming ceremony , Fireheart thought. Cloudpaw too, and Brightpaw and Thornpaw. The Clan needs more warriors.
    Leaving Whitestorm to take a well-earned rest, Fireheart led his hunting party out of the camp and up the ravine. At the top, he turned toward Sunningrocks. Doing his best to carry out Bluestar’s order about doubling the patrols, he had instructed all the hunting parties to do border duty as well, staying alert for other Clans’ scents or any other signs of an enemy presence. In particular, he had warned them to keep a careful watch on the ShadowClan border, but privately he resolved not to neglect RiverClan.
    He had an uneasy feeling about their relationship with ThunderClan. With Crookedstar growing old, his deputy, Leopardfur, would have more authority, and Fireheart still expected her to ask for something in return for RiverClan’s help on the night of the fire.
    As Fireheart led the way toward the river, he noticed plants pushing their way up through the blackened soil. Newferns were beginning to uncoil and green tendrils spread out to cover the earth. The forest was beginning to recover, but as leaf-fall approached, growth would slow down. Fireheart was still worried that his Clan was heading for a cold and comfortless leaf-bare.
    When they reached Sunningrocks, Longtail led Swiftpaw into one of the gullies between the rocks. “You can practice listening for mice and voles,” he told his apprentice. “See if you can catch something before the rest of us.”
    Fireheart watched them go approvingly. The pale tabby warrior was a conscientious mentor, and a strong bond had grown between him and Swiftpaw.
    Fireheart skirted the rocks on the side that faced the river, where more of the grass and foliage had survived. It was not long before he spotted a mouse scuffling among some brittle grass stems. As it sat up, nibbling a seed clasped in its forepaws, Fireheart sprang and finished it off swiftly.
    â€œGood work,” Sandstorm murmured, padding up to him.
    â€œDo you want it?” Fireheart asked, pushing the fresh-kill toward her with one paw. “You haven’t eaten yet.”
    â€œNo, thanks,” meowed Sandstorm tartly. “I can catch my own.”
    She slipped off into the shadow of a hazel tree. Fireheart looked after her, wondering if he’d offended her, and then started to scrape earth over his prey so it could be collected later.
    â€œYou want to watch out with that one,” a voice meowed behind him. “She’ll claw your ears off if you’re not careful.”
    Fireheart spun around. His old friend Graystripe was standing on the border with RiverClan, farther down the slope toward the river. Water gleamed on his thick gray pelt.
    â€œGraystripe!” Fireheart exclaimed. “You startled me!”
    Graystripe gave himself a shake and sent droplets sparkling into the air. “I saw you from the other side of the river,” he mewed. “I never thought I’d find you catching prey for Sandstorm. Special to you, is she?”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fireheart protested. His fur suddenly felt hot, and prickled as if ants were crawling through it. “Sandstorm is just a friend.”
    Graystripe let out a purr