CHAPTER 29
As he watched his defeated enemydisappear, Fireheart could not summon up the least sense of triumph. Surprising himself, he even felt a pang1 of regret. Tigerclaw could have been a warrior2 whose deeds would have been told to generations of kits3—if only he had chosen loyalty4 over ambition. Fireheart could almost wail5 aloud at the waste.
All around him talk was beginning to break out again, as cats mewed urgently to one another about the startling events. “Who’ll be deputy now?” he heard Runningwind ask.
Fireheart glanced at Bluestar to see if she meant to make an announcement, but she was slipping around the side of the Highrock toward her den6. Her head was down and her paws dragged as if she were ill. There would be no announcement yet.
“I think Fireheart should be deputy!” Cloudpaw declared, bouncing with excitement. “He’d do a great job!”
“Fireheart?” Darkstripe’s eyes narrowed. “A kittypet?”
Fireheart was about to haul himself to his paws and intervene when Whitestorm pushed between Darkstripe and the young apprentice8. “That’s enough,” he growled9. “Bluestar will tell us who she chooses before moonhigh. That’s the tradition.”
Fireheart let his shoulders relax as Cloudpaw scampered10 off to join the other apprentices11. He could see that his apprentice didn’t realize the seriousness of what had happened. The older warriors12, the ones who had known Tigerclaw well, were looking at one another as if their world had just come to an end.
“Well now, Fireheart.” Graystripe looked up as Fireheart walked over to join his friend and Cinderpaw. “Would you want to be deputy?” There was pain in his eyes, and blood still trickled14 from his mouth, yet he looked more alive than Fireheart had seen him since Silverstream’s death, as if the battle and the exposing of Tigerclaw’s villainy had taken his mind off his grief for a moment.
Fireheart couldn’t prevent a faint prickle of excitement from creeping along his spine15. Deputy of ThunderClan! Then he realized how hard a job it would be, to pull these shattered cats together and mold them into a Clan16 again. “No,” he told Graystripe. “And Bluestar would never choose me.” He got up, shaking his head as if to put these thoughts out of his mind. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Are those wounds very bad?”
“He’ll be fine,” meowed Cinderpaw. “But his tongue was scratched, and it’s still bleeding. I don’t know what to do for a scratched tongue. Fireheart, would you fetch Yellowfang for me?”
“Sure.”
The last Fireheart had seen of Yellowfang, she had been dragging Brokentail into her den; she had not reappeared for the condemning17 of Tigerclaw. He padded across the clearing and into the fern tunnel. As he pushed through the soft green fronds18, he heard Yellowfang’s voice. Something about it—perhaps its gentleness, so unusual for Yellowfang—made him stay in the shelter of the arching ferns for a moment longer.
“Lie still, Brokentail. You have lost a life,” Yellowfang was murmuring. “You’re going to be fine.”
“What do you mean?” snarled21 Brokentail, his voice weak from loss of blood. “If I’ve got another life left, why do my wounds still hurt?”
“StarClan have healed the wound that killed you,” Yellowfang explained, still in the same soft murmur19 that sent prickles along Fireheart’s spine. “The others need the skill of a medicine cat.”
“Then what are you waiting for, you scrawny old pest?” hissed23 Brokentail. “Get on with it. Give me something for this pain.”
“All right, I will.” Yellowfang’s voice suddenly turned icy cold, and a ripple24 of fear coursed through Fireheart. “Here. Eat these berries, and the pain will go away for good.”
Fireheart peered out of the ferns to see Yellowfang dabbing25 something with her paw. Carefully, deliberately26, she rolled three bright red berries in front of the wounded Brokentail, guiding his paw until he could touch them. Suddenly Fireheart was transported back to a snowy day in leaf-bare. Cloudkit was staring at a small, dark-leaved bush that bore scarlet27 berries, and Cinderpaw was saying, “The berries are so poisonous we call them deathberries. Even one could kill you.”
He drew breath to call out a warning, but Brokentail was already chewing the berries.
Yellowfang stood watching him with a face like stone. “You and my Clan cast me out and I came here,” she hissed into his ear. “I was a prisoner, just like you. But ThunderClan treated me well, and at last they trusted me enough to be their medicine cat. You could have earned their trust, too. But now—will any cat trust you ever again?”
Yellowfang crouched28 even closer to him, her eyes gleaming. “I know you care for nothing, Brokentail. Not your Clan, nor your honor, nor your own kin13.”
“Wrong. Your kin has been closer to you than you ever dreamed. I’m your mother, Brokentail.”
The blind warrior made a curious rasping noise in his throat, like a terrible attempt at laughter. “Spiders have spun30 webs in your brain, old one. Medicine cats never have kits.”
“That’s why I had to give you up,” Yellowfang told him, seasons of bitterness dripping from each word. “But I never stopped caring…never. When you were a young warrior, I was so proud of you.” Her voice dropped to a low snarl20. “And then you murdered Raggedstar. Your own father. You killed kits of our Clan, and made me take the blame. You would have destroyed our Clan completely. So now it is time to put an end to all this treachery.”
“An end? What do you mean, you old…” Brokentail tried to rise to his paws, but his legs gave way and he fell heavily onto his side. His voice rose to a thin screech31 that chilled Fireheart to the bone. “What have you done? I can’t…can’t feel my paws. Can’t breathe…”
“I fed you deathberries.” Yellowfang’s eyes were mere32 slits33 as she gazed at him. “I know this is your last life, Brokentail. Medicine cats always know. Now no cat will ever be hurt again because of you.”
Brokentail’s jaws34 parted in a cry of shock and fear. Fireheart thought he could hear regret there, too, but the blind warrior was unable to put words to it. His limbs thrashed and his paws scrabbled in the dust; his chest heaved as he fought for air.
Unable to go on watching, Fireheart backed away and crouched at the other end of the fern tunnel, shivering, until the sounds of Brokentail’s last struggle died away. Then, mindful of Cinderpaw’s request, he forced himself to go back, making sure that Yellowfang could hear him pushing his way through the bracken this time.
Brokentail lay motionless in the center of the small clearing. The old medicine cat crouched beside him, her nose pressed to his side. As Fireheart padded up, she raised her head. Her eyes were filled with pain and she looked older and frailer35 than ever. But Fireheart knew how strong she was, that the sorrow she felt for Brokentail would not destroy her. “I did everything I could, but he died,” she explained.
Fireheart could not tell the medicine cat that he knew she was lying. He would never tell any cat what he had just seen and heard. Trying to keep his voice steady, he meowed, “Cinderpaw sent me to ask you what to do for a scratched tongue.”
Yellowfang struggled to her paws as if she too could feel the numbing36 touch of deathberries. “Tell her I’m coming,” she rasped. “I just need to fetch the right herb.”
Still unsteady, she staggered over to her den. She did not turn once to look back at Brokentail’s unmoving body.
Fireheart thought he would be unable to sleep, but he was so exhausted37 that as soon as he curled up in his nest he sank at once into deep unconsciousness. He dreamed that he was standing38 in a high place, with wind ruffling39 his fur and the stars of Silverpelt blazing with icy fire above his head.
A warm, familiar scent40 drifted into his nostrils41 and he turned his head to see Spottedleaf. She padded up to him and touched her nose gently to his. “StarClan is calling you, Fireheart,” she murmured. “Do not be afraid.” Then she faded, leaving him with nothing but the wind and the stars.
StarClan calling me? Fireheart thought, puzzled. Am I dying, then?
Fear jerked him awake, and he gasped42 with relief when he found himself safe in the dim light of the den. His wounds from the battle still stung, and as he got up his limbs protested stiffly, but his strength was returning. Still, it was hard to control his shivering. Had Spottedleaf just prophesied43 his death?
Then he realized that the chill he felt was not just because of fear. The den, usually warm from sleeping bodies, was cold and empty. Outside he could hear the murmuring of many cats. When he pushed his way out to join them, he saw that nearly all the Clan was already assembled in the clearing, with the pale light of dawn just rising above the trees.
Sandstorm pushed her way through a group of cats. “Fireheart!” she mewed urgently. “Moonhigh has come and gone, and Bluestar hasn’t named the new deputy!”
“What?” Fireheart stared at the pale ginger44 she-cat in alarm. The warrior code had been broken! “StarClan will be angry,” he murmured.
“We must have a deputy,” Sandstorm went on, lashing45 her tail in agitation46. “But Bluestar won’t even come out of her den. Whitestorm tried to talk to her, but she sent him away.”
“But she’s the leader of this Clan,” retorted Sandstorm. “She can’t just curl up in her den and forget about the rest of us.”
Fireheart knew she was right, but he could not stifle48 a pang of sympathy for Bluestar. He knew how much she had depended on Tigerclaw, loyally defending him against Fireheart’s accusations49. She had chosen him to be her deputy, and had trusted him to help her lead the Clan. She must be shattered to realize that she had been wrong all along, and that never again would she be able to count on Tigerclaw’s strength and fighting skills.
“She won’t forget—” he began, and broke off.
Bluestar was stumbling around the Highrock from her den. She looked old and weary as she sat down in front of the rock, making no attempt to climb it. “Cats of ThunderClan,” she rasped, barely loud enough to be heard over the anxious muttering. “Listen and I will appoint the new deputy.”
Every cat was already turning toward her, and the clearing fell chillingly silent.
“I say these words before StarClan, that the spirits of our ancestors may hear and approve my choice.” Bluestar paused again, staring down at her paws for so long that Fireheart wondered if she had forgotten what she was going to say. Perhaps she had not even decided50 yet who the new deputy should be.
One or two cats had begun to whisper uneasily, but as Bluestar raised her head again they stopped.
“The new deputy will be Fireheart,” she announced clearly. As soon as she had spoken she rose to her paws again and padded back around the rock on legs that seemed made of stone.
The whole Clan froze. Fireheart felt as though a thorn had pierced his heart. He was to be deputy? He wanted to call Bluestar back and tell her there must be some mistake. He was barely a warrior!
Close by, Darkstripe snarled, “Oh, yes? Well, I’m not taking orders from a kittypet!”
A few of the cats padded over to Fireheart and congratulated him. Graystripe and Sandstorm were among the first, and Cinderpaw, purring enthusiastically and throwing herself at him to give his face a thorough licking.
But other cats, Fireheart noticed, slipped quietly away, and did not speak to him at all. It was clear that they were as startled by Bluestar’s choice as Fireheart was himself. Was this what Spottedleaf had meant in his dream, when she told him that StarClan was calling him? Calling him to new responsibilities within his Clan? “Do not be afraid,” she had told him.
Oh, Spottedleaf, Fireheart thought desperately52, as fear and uncertainty53 flooded his mind. How can I not be afraid?
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1
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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kits
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| 衣物和装备( kit的名词复数 )； 成套用品； 配套元件 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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7
bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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apprentice
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| n.学徒，徒弟 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apprentices
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| 学徒，徒弟( apprentice的名词复数 ) | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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fronds
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| n.蕨类或棕榈类植物的叶子( frond的名词复数 ) | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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25
dabbing
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| 石面凿毛，灰泥抛毛 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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frailer
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| 脆弱的( frail的比较级 )； 易损的； 易碎的 | |
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numbing
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| adj.使麻木的，使失去感觉的v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的现在分词 ) | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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ruffling
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| 弄皱( ruffle的现在分词 )； 弄乱； 激怒； 扰乱 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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42
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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43
prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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49
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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52
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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