by Erin Hunter
Squirrelflight straightened and met his gaze as Ivypool, Twigbranch, and Finleap pressed around her. “What are you doing here?”
Breezepelt glared at her without answering.
Doubt tugged at Squirrelflight’s belly. This was still ThunderClan land, wasn’t it? For a moment, Squirrelflight wondered if they’d crossed the border by accident. She glanced around, her view blocked by the heather, then pushed her way out and padded onto the grass. The line of gorse that marked the border was a tree-length away. They were still inside ThunderClan territory.
Ivypool, Twigbranch, and Finleap followed her out, looking confused.
Ivypool eyed Breezepelt angrily as he slid from the heather. “What in StarClan do you think you’re doing?” she snarled at him.
Finleap’s hackles lifted. “You scared off our prey!”
“Your prey?” Breezepelt growled scornfully.
“Yes!” Finleap took a step closer to the WindClan warrior, unsheathing his claws.
Squirrelflight glimpsed pelts moving through the stretch of heather. Hootwhisker, Nightcloud, and Sedgewhisker were heading toward them. “Wait, Finleap,” she warned.
Finleap lashed his tail. “But he scared off our prey.”
“I don’t want to start a fight.” Squirrelflight shifted her paws uneasily as the other WindClan warriors neared. “I want to know what WindClan’s warriors are doing here.” As Finleap backed toward her, she caught Breezepelt’s eye. “This isn’t your territory,” she told the black tom. “Why have you disturbed our hunt?”
Breezepelt met her gaze, his eyes flashing dangerously. “This land is wasted on ThunderClan,” he growled. “You said so yourself at the Gathering.”
Squirrelflight bristled. “That was an informal gathering between leaders and deputies. We never formally agreed to change the borders.”
“And yet you said it,” Breezepelt pressed.
“Harestar said the land was wasted on ThunderClan,” she corrected him.
“But you agreed.” Breezepelt stood motionless as his Clanmates reached him and fanned out on either side, their hostile gazes fixed on the ThunderClan warriors.
Squirrelflight’s ears twitched nervously. He was using her words against her. Harestar must have put him up to it. The black warrior hadn’t been at that gathering. None of the warriors had. Only leaders and deputies. “I said we hadn’t been using the moorland as much as we could,” she growled. “But we’re using it now.”
Hootwhisker nodded toward the forest. “Why not hunt in the woods? It’s what you’re used to, and there’s enough prey for you there.”
Nightcloud’s gaze flicked over the ThunderClan patrol. “You certainly don’t look hungry.”
“Hunger has nothing to do with it!” Finleap flattened his ears. “This is our territory, and we can hunt here whenever we want.”
“You’re trespassing,” Ivypool snarled.
Squirrelflight kept her gaze on Breezepelt. “The leaders have agreed that the new borders will remain until SkyClan has made a decision. So I suggest you leave our land until our leaders agree to restore the old borders.” Her pelt pricked nervously. Were the WindClan warriors looking for a fight?
Breezepelt’s tail twitched. He leaned toward Nightcloud and whispered in her ear. The black she-cat looked at him, then jerked her muzzle toward Squirrelflight. “I suggest you discuss this with Bramblestar. He may have a clearer view on what is best for the Clans.”
The insult jabbed Squirrelflight’s belly like claws. “I will discuss this with Bramblestar,” she growled. “But he won’t allow borders to be ignored any more than I will. Without borders, there can be no unity among the Clans.” She stared deep into Breezepelt’s gaze, hoping he understood the implication. In crossing the ThunderClan border so blatantly, WindClan was disregarding StarClan’s command for peace.
Breezepelt held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. He signaled to his patrol with a flick of his tail. “Let’s head back to the high moor.”
Without a word, his Clanmates turned and headed into the heather, climbing the slope toward the border. A low growl rumbled in Ivypool’s throat. Twigbranch flexed her claws angrily. As the WindClan patrol crossed the line of gorse, Squirrelflight turned back toward camp. “We should go tell Bramblestar.”
Squirrelflight made the journey back in silence, unease rippling through her pelt. Behind her, Ivypool, Finleap, and Twigbranch muttered angrily to one another. As they reached camp, Squirrelflight ducked first through the thorn tunnel. Bramblestar was sitting on the Highledge. She beckoned him with a flick of her tail.
His eyes widened and he leaped down the rock tumble and stopped as Ivypool, Finleap, and Twigbranch gathered around her. He searched Squirrelflight’s gaze, his ears pricking anxiously. “What’s happened?”
“WindClan,” Finleap answered first, his tail flicking angrily behind him. “They say our moorland belongs to them.”
Twigbranch growled.
Squirrelflight watched Bramblestar, looking for outrage to flare in his amber eyes. But he only blinked. “I will speak with Harestar. Today.” He nodded to Squirrelflight. “Will you come with me?”
Squirrelflight’s eyes widened as surprise sparked inside her. Was this how he was going to defend the borders he’d agreed to? “What are you going to say to him?”
Bramblestar lifted his chin. “I’m going to try to come to an agreement. If Harestar believes land is being wasted strongly enough to fight for it, then we need to listen to him.”
Ivypool bristled. “Are you thinking about giving the moorland back?” She sounded shocked. “If we give land to WindClan and SkyClan, we won’t have enough prey to make it through leaf-bare.”
Bramblestar looked at her. “I won’t let my Clan go hungry,” he promised. “Trust me.”
Ivypool held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. Flicking her tail, she beckoned Finleap and Twigbranch away. “I don’t know what ThunderClan’s coming to,” she muttered as she led them around the clearing. “Protecting rogues and giving land away to any Clan that wants it.”
“Thornclaw won’t be happy, either, if you let WindClan take our land.” Squirrelflight blinked at Bramblestar. The ThunderClan warrior had been sullen ever since Bramblestar had agreed to let Leafpool treat Sunrise.
“Thornclaw is just one warrior,” Bramblestar grunted.
“But he speaks for others. Birchfall, Blossomfall—”
Bramblestar cut her off. “I’m only going to speak with Harestar. There must be a way to divide Clan land so that none is wasted.”
“Not if we have to make space for SkyClan,” Squirrelflight pointed out.
“Then it might be time to find a new space for SkyClan.” Bramblestar shook his head. “I’m sorry, Squirrelflight, I know I’ve fought you on this. But perhaps you’re right. There’s no other way to solve the dispute fairly.”
Squirrelflight stared at her mate, surprised. Relief washed over her like a warm breeze in newleaf. “I . . . Thank you.”
Bramblestar nodded, his expression softening, and headed toward the entrance. “Let’s speak to Harestar now. Waiting will only make tempers worse.”
Squirrelflight followed him, pricking her ears. The warmth she’d felt at Bramblestar’s admission suddenly faded as a new concern occurred to her. Was Bramblestar really ready to admit that her plan to wait for the Sisters to move on could solve the border conflict? Or was he coming around to Tigerstar’s plan to drive the Sisters off their land? “So you think SkyClan should move to the mountain territory?” She ducked through the thorn tunnel after him.
“Yes.” He padded into the forest, taking the trail that led toward the moor.
Anxiety tightened Squirrelflight’s belly. “When?”
Bramblestar glanced at her as she fell in beside him. “As soon as Leafstar is ready to make the decision to go.” He turned his gaze ahead. “Not before. It must be SkyClan’s decision. No Clan must pressure them into moving.”
Squirrelflight’s
ears twitched. What if Leafstar made the decision tomorrow, or in a quarter moon, before Moonlight’s kits were born? She tried to push the thought away. Surely Leafstar wouldn’t knowingly endanger Moonlight or her kits. But what if she did? She glanced at Bramblestar. “Would you drive the Sisters away before they’re ready to leave?”
“I’ll try to keep the peace as long as I can, but the Clans’ interests must come first.”
Squirrelflight’s pelt sparked with anger. Did Bramblestar really believe that the impatience of warriors was more important than the Sisters’ needs? “Why?”
“Do you think we should put the comfort of rogues before ourselves?”
Squirrelflight bristled. “The Sisters aren’t rogues!”
He looked at her, puzzled. “How are they different?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I can’t let my Clan go hungry so that the Sisters can eat.”
“No cat is going without food!” Squirrelflight stared at him. Bramblestar was twisting the argument. “We don’t have the right to take land just because we want it.”
“We need it,” Bramblestar insisted. “And the Sisters have proved that they pose a threat to the Clans.”
“What threat?” Squirrelflight’s hackles lifted.
“They’re willing to attack Clan cats and hold them hostage. I call that a threat.”
“They were just defending themselves,” Squirrelflight argued.
“And we’re just defending ourselves.”
“So why are you holding Tigerstar back?” Squirrelflight’s paws pricked with frustration. “Why not just let him start his war against the Sisters now?” She didn’t want an answer. “You told him that we had to wait for word from StarClan. But we’ve had word from StarClan. Tigerstar could easily twist what Hollyleaf told Jayfeather into an excuse for war. Why not tell him what StarClan said and let him attack the Sisters?” She fixed his gaze, her heart aching. She wanted him to say that it was because he knew it was wrong to steal land, that he had pity for Moonlight and her unborn kits.
Bramblestar looked at her coldly. “There’s no need for war with the Sisters until we know for sure that SkyClan wants their land.”
Squirrelflight’s heart sank. She knew that Bramblestar was being honorable in his own way. He was putting the needs of the Clans first, as a leader should. And if he hadn’t cared about the Sisters at all, he would have already shared StarClan’s message and let ShadowClan start the war. Still, the coldness of his reasoning irked her. Couldn’t he see that the Sisters deserved respect too? A warrior’s way of life wasn’t the only way to live.
Her tail drooped as she matched Bramblestar’s paw steps. Around them, birds chattered and sunshine dappled the forest floor. There was no point in wishing Bramblestar were different. She was ThunderClan’s deputy. She needed to focus her thoughts on what was best for her Clan. The confrontation with Breezepelt had been close to an open declaration of war. She must support Bramblestar now. If he could come to a compromise with Harestar at this meeting, they could maintain the uneasy peace among the Clans while still delaying the invasion of the Sisters’ territory. Whatever was decided in the WindClan camp this afternoon might give Moonlight the chance to have her kits in the birthing den the Sisters had built for her.
At the WindClan border, they waited for a patrol. The wind in the heather covered the silence between them. Squirrelflight stared across the moor, relieved when she saw Larkwing, Slightfoot, and Oatclaw on the hillside.
“Slightfoot!” Bramblestar whisked his tail.
Slightfoot’s pelt bristled. Larkwing narrowed her eyes. The patrol headed toward them, eyeing them warily.
“I want to talk to Harestar,” Bramblestar told them as they neared.
Slightfoot looked unsurprised. WindClan must have heard about the encounter between Breezepelt and Squirrelflight by now. His stony gaze flitted over Bramblestar and Squirrelflight. “We’ll take you to him.”
He stepped aside, inviting them over the border with a nod of his head. Squirrelflight followed Bramblestar nervously between the gorse bushes. She’d known these WindClan warriors their whole lives, remembered their first Gathering as apprentices, and yet the hostility in their eyes made her keenly aware that she was treading on enemy territory. StarClan might demand that the Clans unite, but could the wishes of StarClan really undo countless moons of rivalry and suspicion?
Bramblestar stayed close to her as they followed Larkwing along the hillside, cutting through swaths of heather and winding between stiff bracken stems. She felt comforted by the brush of his fur against hers as Slightfoot and Oatclaw padded close at their tails.
At last they reached the tall gorse wall of the WindClan camp. Larkwing led them around it, then ducked through a tunnel hardly visible among the prickly branches. Bramblestar followed, and Squirrelflight hurried after, her pelt prickling anxiously as they emerged onto a wide stretch of uneven grass. Hummocks poked up here and there, and, around the clearing, gorse dens had been woven into the camp walls. Featherpelt, her sides heavily rounded, and Gorsetail were sharing a piece of prey near the edge of camp. The she-cats lifted their gaze as Squirrelflight and Bramblestar entered and stared at the ThunderClan cats through narrowed eyes. Kestrelflight padded from his den. He caught Bramblestar’s eye and greeted him with a respectful nod. Nightcloud got to her paws at the edge of the clearing as Slightfoot turned to Bramblestar.
“Wait here,” he meowed. The WindClan warrior hurried toward a tightly woven den at the end of the clearing. Harestar was already sliding out, his nose twitching as the wind lifted his fur. He saw Bramblestar and Squirrelflight at once.
“Bring them here,” he called.
As Slightfoot hurried to Harestar’s side, Oatclaw nudged Squirrelflight forward.
She shrugged him away. “I can find my own way across a clearing,” she snapped.
Bramblestar gave her a warning look. “This is WindClan’s camp,” he told her. “We follow their orders.”
She shook out her pelt and fell in beside him as he crossed the clearing, ignoring Larkwing and Oatclaw padding on either side.
As they reached the WindClan leader, Crowfeather nosed his way from the leader’s den, his eyes glittering with interest.
Harestar met Bramblestar’s gaze. “You wished to speak with me?”
“Breezepelt brought a patrol onto our territory today,” Bramblestar meowed evenly.
Squirrelflight glared at the WindClan leader. “You sent him, didn’t you?”
Harestar didn’t answer.
Bramblestar narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to reclaim our stretch of moorland?”
“ThunderClan has no use for it,” Harestar answered. “Your scent floods the hillside like dog stench without the forest to disguise it. On open moor, prey can smell you coming. It flees to our side of the border and becomes our prey anyway. Why waste your time? Return our land to us.”
“It’s our land. We all agreed to the new borders.” Bramblestar’s pelt ruffled along his spine. “Don’t forget we gave a lot of our territory to SkyClan.”
“You could have your SkyClan land back if you wanted.” Harestar shifted his paws. “You’re the one who’s delaying their move. You can be the one to suffer the consequences.”
Squirrelflight glanced at Bramblestar. Was this demand for land WindClan’s way of persuading ThunderClan to agree with ShadowClan’s war on the Sisters?
Bramblestar’s tail swished ominously. “While greenleaf lasts, there are no consequences to suffer,” he told Harestar. “There is enough prey in the forest to feed ThunderClan. The Sisters will be gone by the time leaf-bare comes, and we can rethink our borders then.”
“If you have enough prey, why should WindClan wait to reclaim our territory?” Harestar’s gaze didn’t waver. Crowfeather shifted closer to his leader, his hackles rising.
Bramblestar gazed silently at the WindClan leader for a moment. Squirrelflight wondered what he was thinking. It would be hard to argue with Harestar’s logic. Bramblestar
dipped his head. “Very well,” he growled. “You may hunt on our stretch of moorland until SkyClan makes a decision. Our border will remain where it is, and we will mark it regularly. But we will share the land for the next couple of moons.”
Crowfeather frowned. “Why should we let ThunderClan mark a border on our land?”
“It won’t be for long.” Harestar’s mew was ominous. He met Crowfeather’s gaze. The two cats seemed to exchange a single thought; then Harestar turned back to Bramblestar. “Very well.”
Oatclaw’s tail quivered. “What will Tigerstar say?”
Squirrelflight looked at the young warrior in surprise. “Who cares? This has nothing to do with Tigerstar.”
Bramblestar’s gaze darkened. “Oatclaw has a point,” he murmured. “When RiverClan hears that we’ve given WindClan hunting rights on their old land, they might insist on the same for the land they gave to ShadowClan.”
Squirrelflight shifted her paws nervously. She nudged Bramblestar aside, lowering her voice. “If RiverClan takes its land back from ShadowClan, it might start a Clan war.”
He frowned. “But Tigerstar knows StarClan wants peace.”
“Then he’ll try to take the Sisters’ land and give it to SkyClan so he can have his old territory back.” Squirrelflight blinked at him. Bramblestar might not be ready to defend the Sisters, but she knew he was ready to defend SkyClan. “I thought you didn’t want Tigerstar telling SkyClan where they should live.”
Bramblestar’s gaze clouded with thought. He turned back to Harestar. “We have to keep this agreement secret from the other Clans.”
“If that’s what you wish.” Harestar dipped his head.
Squirrelflight saw Crowfeather’s eyes narrow. She stiffened. Was the WindClan deputy planning to make trouble by spreading word of this agreement?
Bramblestar must have been wondering the same. “Peace in the Clans depends on this remaining between us.” His gaze burned into Crowfeather. Squirrelflight felt a rush of hope. This agreement with WindClan might give the Sisters the time they needed, as long as Tigerstar didn’t find out.
