She pelted after Sandstorm. He can’t be dead! She skidded to a halt and stared in horror at Firestar’s body. Sandstorm buried her nose deep into her mate’s sodden fur. “I told you not to waste your final life,” she whispered. Brambleclaw crossed the clearing, rain streaming from his whiskers, and stood beside her. “He didn’t waste it.” “Fire will save the Clan,” Leafpool whispered. Graystripe pushed past Tigerheart and Whitestorm and crouched beside his old friend. “I would have taken your place, if you had let me.” His voice was hoarse with grief.
