sent shivers through Fireheartâs fur as he remembered the horror of being chased by the pack.
Keeping to the shadows of the hedges, they eventually reached the Thunderpath and crouched beside it, their fur ruffled by the wind of monsters racing past them. The strong reek of their fumes flooded Fireheartâs nose and throat, and his eyes stung.
Cinderpelt braced herself beside him, waiting for a space between the monsters when it would be safe to cross. Fireheart felt anxious for his friend. Her leg had been permanently injured in an accident at the edge of the Thunderpath many moons ago, when she had been his apprentice; the old injury would slow her down.
âWeâll go together,â he meowed, feeling the familiar guilt that he had not prevented her accident. âWhenever youâre ready.â
Cinderpelt gave a tiny nod; Fireheart guessed she was afraid, but she wouldnât admit it. A moment later, after a brightly colored monster flashed past, she mewed, âNow!â and limped rapidly out onto the hard black surface.
Fireheart bounded at her side, forcing himself not to leave her behind even though his heart was hammering and every instinct screamed at him to run across as quickly as he could. He heard the roar of a monster in the distance, but before it arrived he and the medicine cat were safe in the hedgerow on the other side.
The medicine cat let out a gusty sigh. âThank StarClan thatâs over!â
Fireheart murmured agreement, though he knew they still had to face the return journey.
Already the sun was sliding down the sky. The land on this side of the Thunderpath was less familiar to Fireheart, and every sense was alert for danger as they began to climb toward Highstones. But all he could hear was prey scuffling in the scanty grass; the tempting scent flooded his mouth, and he wished he were allowed to stop and hunt.
As Fireheart and Cinderpelt reached the foot of the final slope, the sun was setting behind the peak. The evening shadows were lengthening and a chill crept over the ground. Above his head, Fireheart could make out a square opening beneath an overhang of stone.
âWeâve reached Mother mouth,â Cinderpelt meowed. âLetâs rest for a moment.â
She and Fireheart lay down together on a flat rock while the last of the light died from the sky and the stars of Silverpelt began to appear. The moon flooded all the landscape in a cold, frosty light.
âItâs time,â mewed Cinderpelt.
All his misgivings coursed through Fireheart once again, and at first he thought his paws would not carry him. But he rose and began walking forward, the sharp stones biting into his pads, until he stood beneath the arch known to the Clans as Mothermouth.
A black tunnel yawned into darkness. From his previousvisit Fireheart knew that there was no point in straining his eyes to see what lay ahead; the blackness was unbroken all the way to the cavern where the Moonstone lay. As he hesitated, Cinderpelt stepped forward confidently.
âFollow my scent,â she told him. âI will lead you to the Moonstone. And from now on, until the ritual is over, neither of us must speak.â
âBut I donât know what to do,â Fireheart protested.
âWhen we reach the Moonstone, lie down and press your nose to it.â Her blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight. âStarClan will send you sleep so you may meet with them in dreams.â
There was a forest full of questions that Fireheart wanted to ask her, but none whose answers would help him overcome the creeping dread he felt. He bowed his head in silence and followed Cinderpelt as she made her way into the darkness.
The tunnel sloped steadily downward, and Fireheart soon lost his sense of direction as it wound back and forth. Sometimes the walls were so close together that his fur and whiskers brushed the sides. His heart thumped wildly and he opened his mouth to draw in
Learning to Kill: Stories