Warriors: The Return of Scourge

Prolouge

"Scourge!" Firestar yowled. "Turn and face me!" The small black cat whipped around, letting go of Cloudtail in his shock. "How... I killed you."

"You did," Firestar spat back at him. "But I am a leader with nine lives who fights alongside Starclan. Can you say as much?"

For the first time he thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty in Scourge's cold eyes, and at last Firestar understood what Barley told him. Scourge's lack of belief in Starclan was his greatest weakness. Without belief, without the laws and customs of the forest clans, Scourge did not have the nine lives of a true leader. When he died he would be dead forever.

The Bloodclan leader's uncertainty lasted no more than a heartbeat. He aimed a final blow at Cloudtail, dislodging the weakening warrior and tossing up against Great Rock.

Firestar launched himself at his enemy. And with every stride he was aware of the Starclan warriors racing alongside him, matching his pace: Lionheart's golden strength; the lithe, muscular body of Runningwind; Redtail's Darkfur, his bushy red tail streaming out behind him; Yellowfang with hey claws outstretched; Spottedleaf, swift and determined; Bluestar with all her strength and skill in battle restored.

Firestar seemed to cover the ground on winged paws. His claws raked along Scourge's side and he dodged a blow to the head that had claimed his first life.

But Scourge was fast. He flung himself between Firestar's outstretched paws and aimed for his belly, trying to rip him open with the same flick that had destroyed Tigerstar.

Firestar barely drew back in time. Now he was on the defensive, trying to avoid the gashing claws and still get close enough to Scourge to land a blow of his own. He managed to grip the Bloodclan leader near the base of his tail, and the two cats rolled over and over on the grass, shrieking whirlwind of teeth and claws. When they broke apart Firestar saw his own blood spattering the grass, and knew he had to finish this quickly before he weakened again.

When the old trick came back into his mind and he scarcley believed it could work against a fighter like Scourge. But he could think of nothing else. He dug his front paws into the bloodstained turf, and crouched in front of his enemy as if he were giving in, his muscles tensed in readiness.

Scourge let out a yowl of triumph and leaped at him. On the same heartbeat, Firestar hurled himself upward_ crashing into Scourge's belly and thrusting him backward onto the ground. His claws slashed through Scourge's pelt and his teeth met in the black cats throat until he tasted the gush of warm blood. Firestar was dimly aware of Scourge's claws failing at his shoulders but he held on, raking his enemy's belly with his hind paws until the blows that were falling on him grew weaker.

Firestar shook his head, scattering thick drops of blood from his eyes. He released Scourge's throat and drew back to deal the death blow from an upraised paw. But there was no need. Scourge's eyes were fixed on him, dark pots of hatred, and his body jerked convulsively. He tried to snarl defience, biut the sound was only blood bubbling in his torn throat. His twitching limbs grew still and his eyes