by Erin Hunter
“I don’t suppose you were any different when you were a kit,” Brook scolded him gently. “At least we know that Berrykit was OK when he got here.”
“But the ShadowClan border isn’t far away,” Squirrelflight pointed out.
Just then Brambleclaw thought he heard something up ahead. He gestured with his tail for the others to be quiet. For a moment he could hear nothing except for the rustle of wind in the trees and the piping of birds. Then the sound came again: a piercing shriek like the sound of prey under a cat’s claws.
Squirrelflight turned to him, her eyes wide with alarm. “That could be Berrykit!”
Brambleclaw tasted the air. The kit’s scent reached him strongly, along with another that was both familiar and unwelcome.
“ShadowClan!” he exclaimed. “Come on!”
Brambleclaw raced through the trees towards the sound, the other three cats keeping pace with him. That mousebrained kit must have crossed the border and been spotted by a ShadowClan patrol. If they have laid one claw on him . . . Brambleclaw thought, fury raising the hair on his neck and shoulders.
He pelted around a bramble thicket and into a clearing near the dead tree on the ShadowClan border. “Berrykit!”
The thin wail of a cat in pain answered him. Brambleclaw saw Berrykit writhing on the ground in the shelter of a clump of ferns. No other cats were near him. At first Brambleclaw thought the kit must be too badly injured to get up. Then he saw a shining silver tendril wrapped around his tail. Berrykit was caught in a fox trap!
Squirrelflight let out a long hiss. Her neck fur bristled as she stared at a spot just across the border. Following her gaze, Brambleclaw made out three ShadowClan cats crouching in the shadow of a hazel bush: Russetfur, the Clan deputy; Oakfur; and Cedarheart. From the look of it, they had been there for some time, watching Berrykit struggle in agony.
“Crow-food eaters!” Squirrelflight spat at them. “Why didn’t you help him?”
Russetfur rose to her paws and paused to give her shoulder a couple of slow licks. “Every cat knows that Thunder Clan ignores borders,” she meowed. “But ShadowClan sticks to the warrior code. Besides, that’s a kittypet. We have nothing to do with kittypets in this Clan.”
Squirrelflight let out another hiss; Brambleclaw could see she was too angry to speak. “Forget it,” he muttered. “We need to help Berrykit.”
Squirrelflight’s claws flexed, as if she would like nothing better than to sink them into ShadowClan fur. Instead, she spun around and followed Brambleclaw across the clearing to Berrykit’s side.
Stormfur and Brook were already bending over the kit; Brook was giving him a comforting lick around the ears, while Stormfur sniffed at the shining stuff gripping his tail. All around Berrykit the ground was torn up with tiny, desperate scratches as if he’d tried to drag himself free. His wails had sunk to a frightened mewling.
“I’m s-sorry,” he whimpered. “I just wanted to hunt some prey and—”
“You frightened your mother and upset the whole Clan,” Brambleclaw meowed sternly. “Keep still and we’ll soon have you out of there.”
But when he examined Berrykit’s tail, he wasn’t sure it was going to be that easy. The kit’s haunches were matted with blood, his tail mangled in his struggles to free himself. The shining tendril was pulled tight around it and stretched taut to the stick buried in the ground. Brambleclaw gave it an experimental tug; it didn’t move, but Berrykit let out a shriek of pain as the tendril jerked.
“You’re hurting him,” Squirrelflight gasped. “Let me try biting through it.”
She crouched down beside Berrykit, but Brambleclaw could see that the tendril was too deeply embedded in his fur for her to get her teeth to it. Instead, Berrykit let out another wail. “You bit me!”
“Sorry.” Squirrelflight stepped back, panting, a smudge of blood on her nose.
Brambleclaw stared down at the trapped kit. Would they have to bite his tail off to free him? He was bracing himself to suggest it when Brook twitched her ears towards the stick that held the tendril.
“If we dig that up, the wire should loosen,” she pointed out.
Brambleclaw exchanged a bewildered glance with Squirrelflight.
“The stick’s holding the wire,” Brook explained. “But it can’t hold it tight if it’s not stuck in the ground.”
“Brook, you’re brilliant!” Squirrelflight flung herself at the stick and began scraping furiously. Brook joined her on the other side, tugging the stick to loosen it as Squirrelflight threw up showers of earth. Every time the stick moved Berrykit squeaked in pain. Stormfur crouched over him and licked his ears soothingly, at the same time shielding the kit’s face with his body so he couldn’t see the state of his tail.
As Squirrelflight dug deeper, Brambleclaw realised the tendril was starting to sag.
“How does that feel?” he asked Berrykit.
“Better,” the kit mewed. “Not so tight.”
“Keep still,” Brambleclaw told him. “It won’t be long now.”
“Stand back!” Squirrelflight gasped. “I’m nearly there.” She fastened her teeth in the stick and tugged hard; her paws shot out from under her as it sprang out of the ground. Berrykit scrambled forward when he felt the trap release him, dragging the stick with his injured tail.
“Stop!” Stormfur meowed. “Let’s get this thing off first.”
Now that the stick was out of the ground, the tendril was much looser. Delicately Brambleclaw worked one claw under it, then loosened it a little more with his teeth. “Try pulling your tail free,” he instructed Berrykit.
Relief flooded over him from ears to tail-tip as the kit managed to draw his tail out of the shining loop. Berrykit tried to get to his paws, staggered, and slumped down on one side, his eyes closed.
“Rest for a moment,” Brook mewed. “We’ll clean your tail up a bit.”
She crouched beside Berrykit and began to lick his wounded tail. Squirrelflight joined in with swift rasps of her tongue. Brambleclaw winced when he saw Berrykit’s torn flesh and the blood that was still trickling out of the wound. He gathered a pawful of leaves and pressed them down over the worst of the bleeding—they wouldn’t be as effective as cobwebs, but there wasn’t time to look for anything else.
“As soon as we get back to camp, Leafpool will take a look at you,” he promised.
Berrykit didn’t reply, and his eyes stayed closed; Brambleclaw wondered if the kit had even heard him.
Meanwhile Stormfur had taken a few paces towards the ShadowClan patrol, who were still watching from the shelter of the hazel bush. “Seen enough?” he snarled. “At least you’ve had a lesson from ThunderClan on how to deal with a fox trap.”
“ShadowClan can deal with fox traps, thanks,” Russetfur replied with a flick of her tail. “We’ve seen a couple of them in our territory, but we have the sense to stay clear of them.”
“More sense than a kit?” Stormfur took another step forward until he stood right on the border. “That must make you so proud. You’re really fierce warriors, I can see that.”
A growl rose in Oakfur’s throat and he sprang to his paws. “Take one step over the border and you’ll find out how fierce we are—deserter!”
Stormfur’s neck fur bristled. “I was one of the cats who made the journey to the sun-drown-place. I helped the Clans find their new home. And I’ll tell you this—I didn’t do it so that the four Clans would grow too far apart to even help an injured kit.”
“But that’s not a Clan kit,” Cedarheart sneered, coming over to stand beside Oakfur. “Maybe you’ve been in the mountains for so long, you’ve forgotten the warrior code. If you ever knew it in the first place, halfClan.”
Stormfur unsheathed his claws, and Brambleclaw knew that the insults were on the brink of giving way to a full-blown fight. That was more than he wanted to cope with now, especially when they still had to carry Berrykit back to camp.
He bounded up to Stormfur and nudged him. “We don’t want a fight right now,” he
mewed quietly in his ear. “They’re not worth it. Ignore them.”
Stormfur’s gaze locked with his; his blue eyes were hot with anger. Then he took a deep breath, and the fur on his shoulders began to lie flat. “You’re right,” he agreed. “But crow-food is still too good for them.”
Both cats turned away and padded back to Berrykit. A scornful yowl rose up from the ShadowClan warriors, but neither Brambleclaw nor Stormfur looked back.
When they reached Berrykit, Brambleclaw thought he was still unconscious, but as he bent over to sniff him the kit’s eyes flickered open. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m really sorry.”
“That’s OK,” meowed Squirrelflight.
“Will Firestar still let me be an apprentice?”
Brambleclaw gave Berrykit a comforting lick on the shoulder. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he meowed. “When Firestar was an apprentice, he got into no end of trouble—isn’t that so, Squirrelflight?”
Squirrelflight nodded solemnly. “It’s no secret! The whole Clan knows it.”
Berrykit blinked. “Firestar? Really?”
“Really,” Brambleclaw reassured him. “What you did was wrong, but it was brave too. Firestar will understand that.”
Reassured, Berrykit let out a sigh, and his eyes closed again.
“Come on,” mewed Brambleclaw, looking up at his companions. “Let’s get him back to camp.”
Brambleclaw and Stormfur shuffled through the thorn tunnel, carrying Berrykit’s limp body between them. His mangled tail was still bleeding. Brambleclaw was sure that the kit was still alive only from the faint rise and fall of his chest. He desperately needed Leafpool’s care before they lost him to StarClan.
Squirrelflight followed the two tomcats into the camp and raced off at once to her sister’s den. Brook brought up the rear. “I’ll tell Daisy,” she mewed, heading for the nursery.
As Brambleclaw and Stormfur carried Berrykit across the clearing a shrill wail broke out behind them. Glancing over his shoulder, Brambleclaw saw Daisy shoot out of the nursery entrance; Cloudtail was just behind her, meowing, “Daisy, wait!”
The cream-coloured she-cat skidded to a halt in front of Brambleclaw, her eyes wild with terror. “Berrykit! Oh, he’s dead, he’s dead!”
Brambleclaw, with a mouthful of the kit’s fur, couldn’t reply.
“He’s not dead,” Cloudtail panted as he raced up. “Brook said he wasn’t, remember? Look, you can see him breathing.”
Daisy just stared numbly at Berrykit, as if she couldn’t understand what the white warrior was saying. Then she flung herself at her kit and began covering him with desperate licks. Brambleclaw’s ears twitched impatiently. Didn’t the mouse-brained kittypet realise she was in the way? Couldn’t she understand that the most important thing was to get her kit to a medicine cat quickly?
“Come on.” Cloudtail laid his tail gently on Daisy’s shoulder. “Let them take Berrykit to Leafpool. Come and tell Mousekit and Hazelkit that he’s going to be OK. They’ve been worried, too.”
Daisy gave him a doubtful look, then let him draw her away, back towards the nursery.
Leafpool rushed out to meet Brambleclaw and Stormfur before they were halfway to her den. “Poor little scrap!” she exclaimed, giving the wounded tail a rapid sniff. “Bring him straight in, please. Brightheart is making a nest for him.”
Brambleclaw and Stormfur carried the kit round the bramble screen and laid him in a nest of moss and ferns just outside the entrance to Leafpool’s den. He lay on one side, not moving. Brightheart stroked his fur with one paw while Squirrelflight looked on worriedly.
“I’d better tell Firestar,” she muttered after a moment, and slipped away.
Leafpool dived through the cleft into her den, and emerged a moment later with a pawful of cobwebs. “We have to stop the bleeding first,” she meowed as she bound them around the ragged wounds in Berrykit’s tail. The leaves Brambleclaw had used had fallen off during the long trek back through the forest. “Then he can have some marigold to stop infection.”
“He’s going to be OK, isn’t he?” Brambleclaw asked in a low voice.
Leafpool looked up at him, her amber eyes shadowed. “I hope so, but I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I’ll do the best I can, but he’s in the paws of StarClan now.”
When he left Leafpool’s den, Brambleclaw found Dustpelt and Thornclaw about to go out on patrol. He bounded over to join them, hoping to put his worries about Berrykit out of his mind for a while. But all the way along the stream bordering WindClan, he couldn’t forget the kit’s limp shape, lying so still. If he died, Daisy would probably take her other kits straight back to the horseplace, as she’d been threatening to do already. And then there would be no more apprentices until Sorreltail’s kits were old enough. That was almost six moons away!
Brambleclaw lashed his tail, angry with the way his thoughts were heading. He cared about the bright, disobedient little kit for Berrykit’s own sake, not just because Brambleclaw needed an apprentice. But however hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about being Clan deputy, and what he needed to do to get there.
Returning to the camp just after sunhigh, he meant to go and check on Berrykit right away, but paused when he saw Stormfur and Brook crossing the clearing with Firestar and Squirrelflight.
Stormfur waved his tail in greeting and raced ahead of the other cats to meet Brambleclaw. “Hi,” he meowed. “We waited for you.”
“Why?” Brambleclaw’s belly lurched at the shadow of regret in his friend’s eyes. What was happening now?
Stormfur touched his nose to Brambleclaw’s shoulder. “Brook and I are leaving.”
“Now?” Brambleclaw sank his claws into the ground in frustration. It had felt so right, so comfortable, to have Stormfur around again. Though Brambleclaw had known he and Brook would have to leave one day, this seemed much too soon. “I suppose you have to go back to the mountains.” He sighed. “But I hoped you would stay longer.”
Stormfur hesitated. “No, not to the mountains,” he mewed. “To RiverClan. Those ShadowClan cats were right. If we want to stay here, then we have to live by the warrior code, and that means being loyal to RiverClan.”
Brambleclaw stared at him. “Is that the only reason you’re going? Because of what those mangy crow-food eaters said?”
“No,” meowed Brook, padding up to Stormfur’s side. Squirrelflight was beside her. “You’ll see us again, I promise. We want to stay by the lake for good, and when we get to RiverClan I’m going to train to be a warrior.”
Brambleclaw stared at her in astonishment. They were staying for good? That meant they hadn’t just come here to make sure the Clans had found their new homes. Why exactly had Stormfur and Brook left the mountains? And why didn’t they want to go back? But he couldn’t ask; if Stormfur had wanted him to know, he would have told him already. Sharp claws sank into Brambleclaw’s heart at the thought that his friend didn’t trust him enough to confide in him.
“It’s great that you’re staying.” He forced a purr. “At least we’ll get to see each other at Gatherings.”
“Yes, we’ll expect all the RiverClan gossip,” Squirrelflight mewed, pressing her muzzle against Stormfur’s and then Brook’s. More quietly, she added, “None of us will ever forget our journey. Part of us will walk together always.”
Firestar was waiting a couple of tail-lengths away for the friends to say goodbye to one another. “We won’t forget what you did after the badger attack,” he told the visitors. “You will always have ThunderClan’s thanks. We owe you more than we can ever repay.”
Stormfur dipped his head. “We’re grateful to you too, for letting us stay this long.”
With Brook just behind him, he turned and made his way through the thorn tunnel. Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight followed them out and watched, side by side, as the two cats padded into the undergrowth.
“May StarClan light your path!” Brambleclaw called after them.
Stormfur paused to
look back, curling his tail in farewell, then both he and Brook vanished among the ferns.
Chapter 9
The moon floated above the trees that surrounded the stone hollow, but the nest where Berrykit lay was in deep shadow. Leafpool crouched beside the kit and touched her nose to his. Berrykit’s nose felt hot and dry with fever, and he whimpered without opening his eyes. He hadn’t regained consciousness since Brambleclaw and the others had brought him back to camp, early the previous morning.
Since then, Leafpool had stayed awake to keep watch over him. After doing her best with cobwebs and a poultice of marigold, she had been forced to admit defeat in her efforts to save the whole of his mangled tail. That afternoon, she had bitten through the last couple of tendons that held the end in place. Berrykit’s limbs jerked and he let out a squeal of pain, but he didn’t wake up. Patting more cobwebs on the new wound, Leafpool had given the end of his tail to Brightheart to bury outside the camp.
Now she fetched borage leaves from her store, chewed them up, and parted Berrykit’s jaws to trickle a little of the juice into his mouth. StarClan willing, that should bring down his fever. She kept watch for a little longer as the moon shadow crept across the clearing, but she was so exhausted that at last her eyes closed, and she slipped into an uneasy sleep.
She found herself standing on the lakeshore with the stars of Silverpelt blazing above her head. A dark shape caught her eye, further round the lake: a cat, swiftly making his way towards her. As he drew closer she recognised Mudfur, the previous RiverClan medicine cat, who had died in their old home before the Clans made their journey. Now his body was strong and lithe, and his fur was frosted with starlight.
Dipping her head, Leafpool meowed, “Greetings, Mudfur. Do you have a message for me?”
“Yes,” the former medicine cat replied. “I need you to take word to Mothwing.”
Leafpool tensed. Mothwing, the present RiverClan medicine cat, didn’t believe in StarClan, and the spirits of her warrior ancestors couldn’t reach her in dreams. Once before, Leafpool had taken a message from Feathertail to Mothwing, warning her of Twoleg poison in RiverClan territory. But she had never felt comfortable about being responsible for this vital part of Mothwing’s duties. She was even more reluctant now, after the new commitment she had made to her own Clan.
