swiftpaw's fury

chapter 4:

This is not exactly a chapter, just a large excerpt from warriors: the prophecies begin in which fireheart finds the 2 apprentices and sees the impact of the dreadful attack. I DO NOT OWN THIS AT ALL , ALL WRITTEN BY THE ERIN HUNTER TEAM.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fireheart took the lead out of the camp and up to the top of the ravine. Almost at once he picked up Swiftpaw's and Brightpaw's scent leading directly toward Snakerocks. There was no need to spend time trying to track them; all they had to do was get to Snakerocks as soon as possible.

But we'll be too late, he thought. If they meet whatever was out there...

He raced through the forest, his paws scattering fallen leaves. The stiffness in his injured leg was forgotten. Graystripe ran close beside him, and Fireheart recognized the comfort of facing danger with his friend by his side once again, even though so much had changed.

As they approached Snakerocks, Fireheart slowed down and signaled with his tail for the other cats to do the same. If they dashed straight in without knowing what they had to face, they would be no help to the apprentices. They had to treat this threat, whatever it was, like any other enemy. But something inside Fireheart screamed that it was unpredictable, far beyond the reach of any Clan code, and that he was in more danger than he had ever been in before. Was this how mice and rabbits felt, he wondered, knowing that death could be stalking through the undergrowth?

Everything was still. Fireheart did not want to risk calling to the apprentices in case he alerted whatever was lurking up ahead. Swiftpaw must be right, he realized; this was the center of the darkness that had poisoned the forest, but he began to doubt his theories about what the threat was. Could one dog really cause so much destruction and fear in the forest?

As cautiously as if he were stalking prey, Fireheart slid through the undergrowth until the smooth, sand-colored sides of Snakerocks came into sight. For a few heartbeats he stood and tasted the air. A mixture of scents reached him: Swiftpaw's and Brightpaw's, still fresh; the staler scent of other ThunderClan cats; dog, as Fireheart had expected; but over it all the stench of newly spilled blood.

Sandstorm turned to look at him, her eyes huge with fear. "Something terrible has happened."

Terror coursed through Fireheart. He was about to confront the source of the fear that had stalked him for more than a moon, the faceless enemy that had invaded their forest. He was barely able to make himself go on.

With a twitch of his tail he gestured for his companions to move forward again; now they crept with their bellies close to the ground, intent on seeing without being seen, until the rocks were only a few fox-lengths away. A fallen tree barred their way. Scrambling onto the trunk, Fireheart looked out over an open space carpeted with dead leaves. Foul-tasting bile rose into his throat as he took in the scene in front of him. The leaves had been churned up by massive paws, and clots of earth sprayed upward to catch in the branches of the tree. In the middle of the clearing Swiftpaw's black-and-white body lay motionless, and just beyond him, Brightpaw.

"Oh, no," whispered Sandstorm, as she drew herself up to crouch on the trunk beside Fireheart.

"Brightpaw!" yowled Cloudtail. Without waiting for Fireheart's order he launched himself across the clearing toward her.

Fireheart tensed, waiting for whatever had hunted down these apprentices to emerge from the trees and attack, but nothing stirred. Feeling as if his legs hardly belonged to him, he sprang down and stumbled across to Swiftpaw.

The apprentice lay on his side, his legs splayed out. His black-and-white fur was torn, and his body was covered with dreadful wounds, ripped by teeth far bigger than any cat's. His jaws still snarled and his eyes glared. He was dead, and Fireheart could see that he had died fighting.

"Great StarClan, what did this to him?" he whispered. For moons he had been afraid, and now it was far worse than he ever could have imagined. Swiftpaw had been slaughtered like prey. The hunters in the forest had become the hunted. Something had happened in the forest, the balance of life had changed, and for a moment Fireheart felt the ground beneath his paws shift.

Graystripe and Sandstorm stared down at Swiftpaw's body, too stunned to reply. Fireheart knew that Graystripe was remembering another bloodstained body, all his grief for Silverstream reawakening.

"What a waste," Fireheart murmured sadly. "If only Bluestar had made him a warrior. If only I'd let him fight, instead of sending him—"

He was interrupted by a screech from Cloudtail. "Fireheart! Fireheart, Brightpaw isn't dead!"

Fireheart spun around and raced across the clearing to crouch beside Brightpaw. Her white-and-ginger fur, which she had always kept so neatly groomed, was spiky with drying blood. On one side of her face the fur was tom away, and there was blood where her eye should have been. One ear had been shredded, and there were huge claw marks marks scored across her muzzle.

Fireheart heard a choking sound as Sandstorm came up behind him. "No ..." the ginger she-cat whispered. "Oh, StarClan, no!"

At first Fireheart thought Cloudtail was wrong and that Brightpaw must be dead, until he saw the very faint rise and fall of her breathing, and the blood bubbling in her nostrils. "Fetch Cinderpelt," he ordered.