by Erin Hunter
“Yes, of course.” Leafpool felt her paws tremble with relief. StarClan wanted Mothwing to stay as RiverClan’s medicine cat. That meant she was safe from her brother’s threats to reveal the truth. All of Willowpaw’s medicine cat training would be taken care of: Mothwing would pass on her healing skills, while Leafpool could teach her to interpret the signs from StarClan.
“But what about Hawkfrost?” she asked.
“His fate is in the paws of StarClan too,” Feathertail replied. “Spottedleaf led the kits to the butterfly because she felt it was time for you to know the truth. She believed she could trust you to use your knowledge wisely and accept the responsibility of helping Willowpaw.”
Leafpool bowed her head. “I’ll try.”
Feathertail led her through the forest towards the stone hollow. The moon still rode high, washing every fern and blade of grass with silver. The trees rustled in a faint breeze, setting light and shadow dancing around Leafpool’s paws. She had no idea how much time had passed, though she guessed that in the waking world the sky would be paling towards dawn.
Outside the thorn tunnel, Feathertail stopped. “I must leave you here,” she murmured, touching noses with Leafpool. “Dear friend, there are great changes ahead, but you can trust me to be with you always.”
“Great changes?” Leafpool echoed in dismay. “What do you mean?”
But Feathertail had already slipped away. For a heartbeat her pelt gleamed silver in the shadows, and then she was gone.
Uneasy once again, Leafpool gazed up through the trees to the frosty glitter of Silverpelt, as though her faraway warrior ancestors could give her an answer. No words came to her, but through the branches overhead she spotted the three stars she had seen in her earlier dream. Tiny though they were, they glowed more strongly than any other star in Silver pelt, throbbing with pure white light. Leafpool still didn’t know what they meant, but somehow she knew they were shining directly on her, and she felt safe again, sure that whatever happened, StarClan were watching over her.
Leafpool woke with a start to feel tiny paws pummelling her fur. Her eyes flew open to meet Berrykit’s excited gaze, no more than a mouse-length away.
“We’re back!” he announced. “Cloudtail and Brambleclaw came to fetch us.”
Leafpool scrambled up from the nest of bracken. She had overslept; already the sun was climbing towards sunhigh. Warm yellow rays poured down into the hollow, soaking into her fur.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she meowed. “Did you have a good journey back? Is your mother OK?”
“She’s fine,” Berrykit told her. “Hazelkit and Mousekit and I looked after her all the way, so she wasn’t scared.”
“She must be tired, though,” Leafpool commented, “going all that way twice in two days.” The kits ought to be tired too, though Berrykit looked as if he was bursting with energy. “I’ll bring her something to help her get her strength back.”
Slipping inside her den, she snagged a couple of juniper berries on her claws, then rejoined Berrykit, who immediately dashed out into the main clearing. Leafpool followed just in time to see Daisy and the other two kits disappearing into the nursery. Berrykit pelted across to join them, while Leafpool followed more slowly.
She had almost reached the entrance to the nursery when she heard Brightheart exclaim, “No! Cinderkit, come back here!”
A heartbeat later the fluffy grey kit tottered out into the open, blinking blue eyes in the sunlight. Brightheart emerged after her, swooped down, and seized her gently by the scruff. She carried the adventurous kit back into the nursery without noticing Leafpool.
The medicine cat’s pelt pricked. It was bad luck that Brightheart had chosen to visit Sorreltail at the very moment that Daisy returned. It couldn’t be easy for the ginger-and-white she-cat to encounter the cat she thought of as her rival, especially when she might have been hoping that Daisy had gone for good.
Leafpool hovered at the entrance to the nursery, wondering whether to go straight in, or come back another time. Before she could decide, she heard Daisy’s voice just inside the thicket of brambles.
“Brightheart, I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I wanted to say to you.”
“What?” Brightheart sounded wary.
“The reason I left . . . well, it was only partly because of the danger out here. I’ve been worried about the kits since the badger attack, but I’m their mother—I’d worry about them wherever we were. Mostly it was because I—I don’t have any cat in the Clan that I’m close to. Not like you and Cloudtail.”
There was a heartbeat’s tense silence. Leafpool started to back away, and Brightheart’s reply, when it came, was too low and indistinct for her to hear it.
“No,” Daisy responded more clearly. “Cloudtail is very kind to me, but he would be kind to any cat in trouble. He’s a good warrior and he loves you very much.”
Another pause, until at last Brightheart mewed softly, “I know.” Her voice shook as she added, “Thank you, Daisy. I’m really glad you decided to come back. ThunderClan needs more young cats, and your three will make excellent warriors.”
Daisy replied something in a low voice and a moment later Brightheart left the nursery, passing Leafpool with a nod. Leafpool tried to look as if she had only just arrived. She couldn’t miss the joyful look in Brightheart’s good eye, and prayed to StarClan that she and Cloudtail would become as close as they had once been, and that Daisy would turn out to be a friend to them both.
When Leafpool left the nursery after giving Daisy the juniper berries, Brightheart was crouched beside the fresh-kill pile, nibbling a vole. Cloudtail was in the centre of the clearing, calling Thornclaw and Rainwhisker for a hunting patrol.
Leafpool beckoned him with her tail. When he padded across to her, she suggested, “Why don’t you ask Brightheart to go with you? You haven’t hunted together for a long time.”
Cloudtail looked puzzled.
Mousebrain! Leafpool thought. “You remember Bright heart?” she prompted him. “Your mate? Whitepaw’s mother?”
The white warrior’s expression cleared. “Oh, I see what you mean! Right, I’ll do that,” he meowed. “Good idea, Leafpool.”
He swung around and bounded towards his mate. Leafpool saw him speak to Brightheart; then the she-cat rose to her paws and their tails twined together. Pelts brushing, they headed for the thorn tunnel, leaving Thornclaw and Rainwhisker to dash after them.
“I think some cat interfered.” An amused voice spoke behind Leafpool.
Leafpool whirled around to see her sister watching her. “Squirrelflight, you frightened me out of my fur! What do you mean ‘interfered’?”
Squirrelflight rested her tail on her sister’s shoulder. “In a good way, I mean. It’s about time some cat opened Cloudtail’s eyes to what Brightheart needs from him.” She glanced around the clearing, where some cats were dozing in the warm sunlight, while others put the finishing touches to the newly repaired dens. “Life’s good,” she mewed with satisfaction. “Maybe now we can have a bit of peace.”
Right now, it did look as if ThunderClan’s troubles were over. Remembering her sense of security as she gazed at the three tiny stars in her dream, Leafpool opened her mouth to agree when a strange darkness clouded her sight. The reek of blood rose around her and she felt sticky scarlet waves wash over her paws. An unfamiliar voice rasped the words of the prophecy in her ear, low and sinister and insistent:
Before all is peaceful, blood will spill blood, and the lake will run red . . .
Chapter 15
On the day after Daisy’s return, Brambleclaw emerged from the warriors’ den to see Berrykit wrestling with his brother and sister outside the nursery. He padded across to watch; Berrykit cuffed Mousekit over the head and sent the smaller kit sprawling in the dust.
“Well done,” Brambleclaw mewed approvingly. “But if Mousekit were your enemy, would you stand there staring at him? Mousekit, what are you going to do?”
“Atta
ck him!” Mousekit sprang up, shook rumpled fur, and lunged at his brother.
“Dodge!” Brambleclaw directed Berrykit. “Trip him as you go by.”
Berrykit flashed out a paw, but Mousekit sidestepped and landed a blow on his ear. Berrykit crouched, snarling, and pounced on Mousekit’s tail.
“Well done, both of you,” Brambleclaw meowed. “You’ll both make good fighters one day.”
Leaving the kits to scuffle, Brambleclaw turned away and saw Firestar in the centre of the clearing, listening to a report from the dawn patrol. A moment later the patrol separated in search of rest and fresh-kill, and Firestar beckoned with his tail for Brambleclaw to join him.
“Dustpelt reports Twolegs on our border,” he began.
Brambleclaw felt his neck fur begin to rise. “They’re not building another Thunderpath, are they?”
“No, nothing like that,” Firestar replied. “Dustpelt says there are some green pelt-things propped up on sticks, like little dens, in the clearing between us and ShadowClan. Twolegs have been sleeping in them.”
Brambleclaw’s eyes widened. “That’s mousebrained! Why would Twolegs come and sleep here when they have perfectly good nests of their own?”
Firestar shrugged. “Why do Twolegs do anything? I’m not too worried about the green pelt-things,” he went on. “They don’t sound permanent. What bothers me is how ShadowClan are going to react. We all know they’re looking for an excuse to take some of our territory.”
Brambleclaw flexed his claws. “I’d like to see them try.”
“I’d rather settle this peacefully if we can,” Firestar told him. “Listen, I want you to see exactly what’s happening in the clearing, then go around the lake and find out what the Twolegs are up to on the border between RiverClan and ShadowClan. I want to know how serious the disturbance is, and how likely it is that Blackstar and Leopardstar will demand more territory at the next Gathering.”
Brambleclaw knew that made sense. As the weather grew warmer, more and more Twolegs had appeared, roaring across the lake in their water-monsters or bobbing around in the boats with white pelts. The air was filled with buzzing, and when the wind was in the right direction the cats could hear the yelps and yowls of Twolegs even in the stone hollow.
“Do you think the Twolegs will come here next?” he asked Firestar.
“They might,” Firestar replied seriously. “But I think the forest comes too close to the water’s edge in our territory for them to land their water-monsters. That might keep them away—but that’s part of what I want you to find out. Have a good sniff around, and don’t get caught. I don’t want ShadowClan or RiverClan to know you’ve set paw on their territory.”
“They won’t,” Brambleclaw promised, and set off with a wave of his tail. He felt his head swim with pride as he brushed through the thorn tunnel. Firestar must trust him a lot to have chosen him for such an important mission! Tigerstar was right: he could achieve great things by following the warrior code and being loyal to his Clan.
He cut through ThunderClan territory until he came to the clearing. The stream bordered it on one side, then veered away into ShadowClan territory. The tabby tom crouched at the water’s edge, screened by a clump of bluebells, and peered across.
The green pelts Firestar had mentioned were dotted all across the clearing. Since at this point the stream marked the border, they were actually in ShadowClan territory.
“ShadowClan is welcome to them,” he muttered. But he wasn’t so sure; Blackstar might see the Twoleg invasion as another reason to extend his territory.
Dustpelt seemed to be right that the Twolegs were sleeping under the pelts. At least, as Brambleclaw watched, several Twolegs crawled in and out, and Twoleg kits were playing between the little dens, tossing something brightly coloured from one to another, and yowling in delight when they caught it.
A shiver went through Brambleclaw when he spotted flame spurting up from the opposite side of the clearing. Were the Twolegs really mousebrained enough to light a fire among the trees? Then he noticed that the fire was encased in some shiny Twoleg thing that seemed to stop it from spreading. He could smell the strange, acrid scent of Twoleg food drifting across, mixed with the tang of charred wood.
Brambleclaw watched the scene for a while longer, but nothing else seemed to be happening. At last he eased back from the water’s edge, being careful to tread silently and stay out of sight until he was well away from the clearing. He had learned all he could from these Twolegs; now it was time for the more dangerous part of his mission.
A mouse scuttled across open ground just in front of him; Brambleclaw flashed out a paw and pinned it down, killing it and devouring it quickly. He was about to leave his own territory, and he wouldn’t risk stealing prey from a rival Clan.
He followed the stream down towards the lake, tasting the air for the scent of ShadowClan patrols. The border markers were strong and fresh here, but the scent of cats was fading; he guessed that a patrol had been that way at dawn.
When he reached the edge of the trees, there were no ShadowClan cats visible along the lakeshore. Brambleclaw waded cautiously across the stream, his pelt prickling. Blackstar had agreed only grudgingly to allow cats from other Clans to cross his territory; besides, Firestar had ordered Brambleclaw not to let ShadowClan know about this mission.
Though he kept well within two tail-lengths of the water’s edge, he felt as though every one of the dark pine trees concealed the piercing gaze of a ShadowClan warrior, waiting to leap out and challenge him. He crept along with his belly fur brushing the pebbles, taking advantage of every rock and hollow to hide and pausing every few paw steps to taste the air.
One Twoleg boat was already out on the lake, floating along quietly with a huge white pelt spread above it. Brambleclaw could see a couple of Twolegs inside it, leaning over to trail their forepaws in the water. As he drew closer to the border with RiverClan another Twoleg thing—more like a monster than the boat with its pelt—roared away from the half bridge, leaving a scar of bubbling white foam on the surface of the lake. Brambleclaw sprang onto a rock to keep his paws dry as waves slopped up onto the shore.
The reek of Twoleg monsters was stronger here, drowning any scent of cats. Brambleclaw’s gaze flickered uneasily along the line of trees, alert for any movement, but he saw nothing. Perhaps ShadowClan had withdrawn deeper into the forest to stay clear of the Twolegs. Or perhaps unseen eyes were watching him; he braced himself in case a patrol appeared.
Not far from the border Brambleclaw had to head for the trees to avoid a litter of Twoleg kits who were standing at the water’s edge, yowling and throwing stones into the water. They’re making enough noise to warn any cat in the territory, he thought. It was clear Blackstar was just using the Twolegs as an excuse. There was plenty of prey, and the Twolegs weren’t posing a serious threat. No cat could imagine that ShadowClan really needed more space to hunt.
Cutting diagonally across the shore, Brambleclaw streaked along close to the ground until he reached the wide area near the half bridge, covered with hard black stuff like the Thunderpath. Twoleg monsters were crouched side by side, almost filling the space. Brambleclaw crept along its edge, his legs beginning to tremble with tension and the effort of staying alert for danger.
Two or three tail-lengths from the Thunderpath that marked the border between ShadowClan and RiverClan, he reached the shelter of a tall Twoleg thing made of shiny stuff like the tendrils of the fox traps, woven into a mesh like a cobweb. It was stuffed full of Twoleg rubbish; Brambleclaw twitched his whiskers at the reek of crow-food, but at least it would disguise his own scent.
Cautiously he looked out from behind the Twoleg thing. Several monsters loomed in front of him, but they were all silent and he guessed they were asleep. As he watched, another monster appeared, veered off the Thunderpath, and stopped, its roar cutting off abruptly. Two Twolegs and a couple of kits got out of its belly. The kits let out a screech and dashed off to the half bridge, their hind p
aws pounding on its wooden strips.
Brambleclaw stiffened as a dog leaped out of the monster after them with a flurry of excited yelps. One of the Twolegs grabbed it and fastened a long tendril of some brightly-coloured stuff to its collar. Brambleclaw guessed the dog had scented him, but couldn’t get at him, because the Twoleg kept tight hold of the tendril.
It’s no better than a kittypet, Brambleclaw sneered. I’d like to see any Twoleg try to put a collar on me.
While he waited to see what the Twolegs would do next, Brambleclaw was distracted by a movement on the opposite side of the Thunderpath, in RiverClan territory. A clump of bracken waved wildly a heartbeat before a squirrel shot out and crossed the Thunderpath. A slender grey-brown cat darted after it; shock thumped into Brambleclaw as he recognised Brook.
At almost the same moment Stormfur emerged from the bracken and stood at the edge of the Thunderpath. “Brook! No!” he yowled. “Come back!”
Brook was already leaping for the squirrel, hardly a tail-length into ShadowClan territory. She brought it down with two rapid blows from her forepaws and bit down into its neck.
“Come back now!” Stormfur repeated urgently.
Brook spun round, the squirrel dangling from her jaws. Just as she launched herself back across the Thunderpath, a monster appeared; Brambleclaw dug his claws into the ground and squeezed his eyes shut, picturing the young she-cat crushed under its round black paws.
“No!” he heard Stormfur yowl.
Brambleclaw opened his eyes again to see the monster swerve, screeching, and barely miss Brook’s tail as she plunged back into RiverClan territory. Stormfur ran up to her, pressing his muzzle against hers.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A new voice spoke, harsh and angry. Brambleclaw looked up to see Hawkfrost shouldering his way through a clump of ferns at the top of the bank above the Thunderpath. His ice-blue eyes blazed with fury. He paced down to confront Stormfur and Brook. “You stole that prey from ShadowClan!” he hissed at the young shecat.
