by Erin Hunter
“How can I help them?” Rootspring yowled. There had to be a way to end their suffering.
He strained to hear as Spiresight opened his mouth, but no words came from the yellow-eyed tom, only a piercing wail that spoke of pain Rootspring couldn’t imagine.
Panic flooded his thoughts until he froze, too scared to move. Something evil was happening to these spirits. He began to tremble, a yowl of anguish rising in his throat. He tried to swallow it back, but it tore out of him, joining the anguished wails of the spirit cats.
Pale gray fur moved at the edge of his vision. Bristlefrost was trying to break through the Sisters’ circle, pushing her way between Moon and Sunshine. “Let me through!” she wailed.
Moon pushed her away. “Stay back,” she warned. “There’s something wrong here.” She was watching the ghosts. Some crouched like foxes preparing to attack; others bared their teeth in snarls, lunging forward a step, then retreating, as if trying to make invisible enemies run away. “They want to hurt us.”
Growls rippled through the air. Hawkwing dropped into a battle stance, while Shimmerpelt lifted her hackles defensively. They looked warily around the camp, clearly scanning the shadows for an enemy they couldn’t see.
Sunrise shifted beside Rootspring. “We must stop this!” She nodded to the other Sisters. “Send them back.”
“No!” Alarm shrilled through Rootspring’s pelt. “Bramblestar isn’t here yet!” Squirrelflight was staring at him, hope fading in her desperate gaze.
But the Sisters had begun a new chant. “Spirits of the forest, leave us. Return to the hills and valleys.”
“Not yet!” Rootspring darted forward, weaving his way between the spirits. He looked from one to the other. “Have you seen Bramblestar?” He wasn’t sure they’d even understand. Some of these were cats he’d never seen before. He stopped in front of Stemleaf. “Have you seen him?” he begged.
Stemleaf stared back, his eyes wild with pain.
“Bramblestar!” Rootspring lifted his mew above the chanting. “Where are you?” He froze when he saw a figure at the edge of the circle. A tom, his translucent gray pelt fluffed out with pleasure, was watching the spirits. No pain showed in his eyes, only satisfaction as he gazed at the suffering cats. Rootspring’s blood ran cold, as he realized which cat the dark warrior must be. Ashfur!
The Sisters kept chanting, and the rest of the spirits began to fade. Rootspring spun around. “Wait!” They couldn’t end it now. Panic flared in his pelt as, one by one, the spirits melted into the moonlight and disappeared. Ashfur’s eyes glittered for a moment before he, too, blinked out of view like a dying star, and the camp was suddenly empty of ghosts.
The Sisters fell silent, staring at one another, as though they could hardly believe what they’d seen. Slumping with exhaustion, they let the circle break.
Bristlefrost pushed her way through and rushed to Rootspring’s side. “Are you okay?”
He realized he could hardly breathe. His fur still tingled as though a wind were roaring through him; the still air around him seemed to pulse with the echo of their presence. “They’re still here,” he breathed.
“Who?” Bristlefrost blinked at him. “The spirits? Were there a lot of them? Was Bramblestar with them?”
He couldn’t answer. It would crush her. He wondered for a moment how she hadn’t sensed so many cats crowding the clearing. Their suffering was so intense he could still feel it, like mist in the air, reaching through his fur and making him cold. “I don’t think it was meant to happen like that,” he mewed shakily.
Sunrise padded toward him, her ears twitching nervously. “I’ve never seen anything like it before,” she murmured. “The spirits were angry.”
Snow’s eyes were wide. “It was like they wanted to attack us.”
Moon and Tempest nodded.
Hawk stared at Snow. “Why are they in so much pain?” Outrage edged her mew.
Snow frowned. “I don’t know, but they meant us harm.”
Tempest flicked her tail. “I saw dead leaves falling from the trees.”
Rootspring glanced around the clearing. There were no dead leaves lying on the grass now. Had the tabby she-cat imagined it?
Snow met his gaze. “Dead leaves mean bad spirits are around.”
He swallowed. There had certainly been one bad spirit in the SkyClan camp tonight. “I think I saw Ashfur.”
“What?” Tigerstar shouldered his way past Tempest as Leafstar crossed the clearing, Hawkwing at her heels. Mistystar, Squirrelflight, and Harestar hurried to join them. The Clan leaders looked bewildered; Rootspring had to remind himself that they hadn’t seen the spirits or heard their wails.
He looked at Tigerstar. “He was right there.” He nodded to the patch of grass where Ashfur had stood, watching the other spirits with cruel amusement.
Mistystar’s pelt ruffled. “Could Ashfur have left Bramblestar’s body?”
“He’s done it before,” Tigerstar told her. “Shadowsight’s seen him do it.”
Alderheart padded forward, pricking his ears. “That was in a vision.”
“That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” Tigerstar mewed grimly.
Rootspring narrowed his eyes. “What happened to Bramblestar’s body when Ashfur left it?” How could it live with no spirit inside?
“He said it looked like it was sleeping.” Tigerstar paused, his gaze darkening. “Ashfur’s been sleeping a lot lately.”
Alderheart shifted his paws. “Do you think his spirit has been leaving the ShadowClan camp without us realizing?”
Rootspring’s ears twitched. “I’m pretty sure it left his body to be here tonight.” A thought struck him. “Perhaps he’s the reason why the other spirits were suffering.”
The Clan cats glanced nervously at one another.
Tigerstar frowned. “The Sisters seem to have given us more questions than answers.”
Squirrelflight was trembling. “Did you see Bramblestar?”
Rootspring looked at her guiltily. “No.”
As her gaze clouded, Alderheart added quickly, “If there were as many spirits as Rootspring says, perhaps Bramblestar was hard to spot.”
Rootspring didn’t correct him. He didn’t want to steal Squirrelflight’s last hope.
Tigerstar grunted. “He would have made himself known if he’d come.”
Sunrise met the ShadowClan leader’s gaze. “Perhaps something stopped him from coming.”
Squirrelflight’s eyes flashed with hope. “You mean he might still be around.”
“Something very strange is happening here,” Sunrise mewed slowly. “It might be better for you to move on from this place.”
“Leave?” Leafstar’s pelt bristled across her shoulders. “SkyClan traveled a long way to be here, fought many battles to establish our territory. Cats died. . . . No spirit is going to drive us away from the lake.”
Tigerstar gave a nod, showing his teeth. “If spirits want the Clans’ territory, they’ll have to fight us for it.”
Sunrise gazed at the two leaders solemnly. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
As she spoke, rain began to batter the clearing. Great drops pounded around them as the clouds opened and wind ripped at the trees.
Leafstar narrowed her eyes against the storm. “This weather is too bad to travel in,” she told the other leaders. “We can find room in our dens for you all.”
Rootspring glanced at the crowded clearing. It had been hard enough to find nests for the Sisters. How would they find room for the rest of the Clan cats?
“RiverClan cats aren’t afraid of getting wet,” Mistystar told Leafstar, dipping her head. “We’ll head home.”
“So will we.” Tigerstar had fluffed out his fur against the rain. “ShadowClan has the answer we came for.”
Harestar’s pelt was already slicked against his lithe frame. “WindClan has no wish to stay here.”
Squirrelflight was gazing imploringly at Snow. “I’d like to stay.” She clearly h
adn’t given up hope that the Sisters could reach Bramblestar. Rootspring felt a pang of pity for her, but his heart was beating eagerly. If Squirrelflight stayed, it meant Bristlefrost would stay too.
Sunrise tucked her paws beneath her as the rain hardened. “The Clans have a serious problem here.” She looked earnestly at Leafstar. “We should stay close for a while. You might need us.”
Leafstar dipped her head. “Thank you.”
“In the morning, we’ll make a camp nearby,” Snow told her. “We know this territory well. There’s a copse in the next valley where we can build temporary dens.”
Tigerstar frowned. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned. “This is Clan land now.”
Snow eyed him sharply. “If you want to keep it that way, you might need us.”
“Can you fight spirits as well as see them?” Tigerstar mewed sourly.
“When spirits are affected by the sort of bad energy we felt here tonight,” Snow warned, “they can take on physical form.” She looked around at the Clan leaders. “And if they do, you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Rootspring stiffened. Was that true? He glanced at Tree, who had been hanging back, his pelt ruffled and dripping. Elsewhere, he noticed Tawnypelt sharing an anxious look with Mistystar, which made him wonder what horrible memories the two older cats shared.
Tree padded forward as Rootspring caught his eye. “We should get every cat out of this storm,” he mewed.
Leafstar nodded. “Show the Sisters to their dens,” she told him.
Tree dipped his head, signaling to the Sisters with a flick of his tail before guiding them toward a temporary den woven between two bushes. Snow looked back at Squirrelflight, her eyes round with worry, then disappeared inside with the others.
Harestar was already leading his patrol to the entrance, Mistystar at his tail.
Tigerstar began to follow, hesitating as the others pushed their way through the fern entrance. He glanced back at Squirrelflight. “We’ll meet soon to discuss what happens to Ashfur now.” Rootspring pressed back a shiver. Tigerstar’s words were ominous. Squirrelflight returned the ShadowClan leader’s gaze nervously. “That was the purpose of this ceremony, wasn’t it?” Tigerstar pressed. “To find out if Bramblestar could be reached. But if we can’t reach him, and the spirits of our Clanmates are suffering because of Ashfur, we have to do something.”
Rootspring guessed what Tigerstar meant by something. He was ready to kill Bramblestar’s body.
Squirrelflight looked away without responding.
Leafstar dipped her head to the ShadowClan leader. “Let’s discuss it once we’ve questioned Ashfur about what happened here.”
Tigerstar’s gaze darkened. He turned and padded out of the camp.
Hawkwing’s pelt ruffled as he watched the ShadowClan patrol go. “We all know he’s already made up his mind.”
“I’m sorry.” Leafstar blinked at Squirrelflight. “I know this isn’t what you hoped for.”
“No.” The Thunderclan leader sat down, hunching her shoulders against the rain. Rootspring’s heart ached with pity as she lifted her gaze to meet his. “Thanks for trying.” Her mew was barely a whisper. “I wish you’d found him, but I know you did your best.”
Around the camp, SkyClan began to melt away, taking shelter from the storm. Needleclaw caught Rootspring’s eye as she followed her Clanmates toward the warriors’ den. As the clearing emptied, she beckoned him to follow with a flick of her tail, but he ignored her. He hadn’t finished here.
Squirrelflight stared at her paws. “I won’t be able to stop them from killing him now,” she mewed bleakly.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Leafstar put in. “The final decision hasn’t been made yet. We need to find out what Ashfur was doing here and whether he’s responsible for what’s happening to the spirits.”
Squirrelflight lifted her head wearily. “How? There’s no cat left to guide us.”
Leafstar began to direct her toward a bracken den. “You should rest.” She looked hopefully at Frecklewish, who lingered at the edge of the clearing. “Is there room in the medicine den for Squirrelflight and her patrol?”
“We can make room,” Frecklewish told her.
Wordlessly, Squirrelflight got to her paws and headed after the SkyClan medicine cat. Alderheart followed with Finleap and Twigbranch at his tail, but Bristlefrost hesitated, watching her Clanmates disappear into the den before turning her gaze back to Rootspring.
He blinked at her. Leafstar and Hawkwing were heading for the leader’s den. He guessed they needed to discuss what their next move should be. As they ducked inside, Rootspring was sharply aware that he and Bristlefrost were alone in the clearing. Overhead, the trees rocked in the wind. Rain thrummed against his pelt, but he hardly noticed it. He was with Bristlefrost. He met her gaze. “I’m sorry,” he mewed. “I wish I’d seen Bramblestar. I know how much it meant to you.”
“Sorry?” She looked surprised. Shaking rain from her whiskers, she lapped his cheek quickly. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You were amazing tonight. I don’t know what you saw, but you looked terrified. You saw it through, though. You’re the bravest cat I know.” Sitting back on her haunches, she looked at him, her eyes shining through the rain. “I’m proud of you.”
Warmth rushed beneath his fur. His heart seemed ready to burst. Memories of the suffering spirits burned in his thoughts, but he suddenly felt less frightened of them. He was strong enough to face a forest full of spirits as long as Bristlefrost was with him.
Chapter 18
Shadowsight crouched in the bramble enclosure, grateful that Ashfur was sleeping. The dark warrior lay between the roots of the hollow tree, light dappling his stolen tabby pelt. Last night’s storm had passed, and sunshine was filtering between the pines. Ashfur’s sleep was deep; he hadn’t woken as Shadowsight treated his injuries, applying fresh poultices to the most serious wounds and making sure the rest were clean and beginning to heal. He’d worried at first that something must be wrong, but Ashfur’s pelt wasn’t hot and his breathing was regular. He must just be exhausted after Lionblaze’s attack.
Shadowsight had no wish to wake him. Ashfur would only needle him about not being a medicine cat anymore, or about only being tolerated by his Clan only because Tigerstar was the leader. Did your father send you here? His pelt itched with irritation as he remembered the warrior’s words. Of course he did! If he had a choice, Shadowsight wouldn’t come near this place. And yet he was here, sitting beside Ashfur as he slept, one eye on Lizardtail and Mallownose as they guarded the entrance. As much as he disliked Ashfur, he couldn’t risk letting any cat hurt him.
They’re going to kill me. . . . If I die, you’ll never get Bramblestar back.
Ashfur’s words still rang in his head. The Clans needed him alive. And since Lionblaze’s attack, he didn’t trust any cat—even his guards—not to finish what the Thunderclan deputy had started.
Urgent mews in the clearing outside made Shadowsight stiffen. He crossed the enclosure and peered through the entrance. Alderheart, Frecklewish, and Hawkwing were talking to Tigerstar, their voices hushed. Why had they come to the ShadowClan camp? Shadowsight’s heart quickened. Had something happened? He pricked his ears, trying to hear what they were saying, but they kept their voices low. Shadowsight ducked behind a tree as Alderheart glanced at the enclosure. He didn’t want to be seen eavesdropping. He backed away as he heard paw steps drawing close.
Lizardtail and Mallownose moved aside as Tigerstar led Alderheart and the SkyClan cats into the enclosure. The RiverClan warriors’ eyes were glittering with interest, but they didn’t speak as Tigerstar padded past.
Shadowsight shifted uneasily as his father stared at Ashfur.
“How long has he been asleep?” He jerked his muzzle toward Shadowsight.
“All morning.” Shadowsight frowned. Why did Tigerstar look so worried?
Alderheart padded past them and sniffed warily at the dark warrior�
�s pelt. Frecklewish hung back. Hawkwing narrowed his eyes.
“Is something wrong?” Shadowsight blinked at them, still wondering why they’d come.
Tigerstar met his gaze. “The Sisters held a ceremony last night.”
Shadowsight’s fur pricked along his spine. That’s where you went. He’d wondered why his father had slipped out of camp so late with Puddleshine, Dovewing, and Tawnypelt, but he’d grown so used to being left out now that he hadn’t even tried to question Puddleshine before he’d left the medicine den this morning. His heart quickened. “Did they find Bramblestar?”
“No.” Tigerstar exchanged glances with Puddleshine.
Alderheart stepped back from Ashfur. “There were other spirits.”
Was that fear edging his mew? “Other spirits?” Shadowsight echoed.
Alderheart faced him. “Only Rootspring, Tree, and the Sisters could see them, but it sounded like the spirits weren’t exactly friendly.”
“Rootspring seemed to think they were suffering,” Frecklewish mewed.
“The Sisters said they looked angry,” Alderheart added.
Shadowsight’s mouth grew dry. “Were they the spirits of dead warriors?” Why would warriors be angry with the Clans?
Frecklewish shivered. “There were warriors among them.” Her gaze slid to Ashfur, who was still sound asleep. “He was with them, and he wasn’t suffering.”
Shadowsight’s eyes widened. “But he was here. I checked his wounds at moonhigh and he was—”
“Sleeping?” Tigerstar’s mew was ominous.
“Yes.”
Tigerstar leaned closer. “Like he’s sleeping now?”
Shadowsight swallowed. “Yes.” Was his father trying to say that Ashfur had somehow left the ShadowClan camp to join the Sisters’ ceremony? He glanced at Ashfur, wondering afresh at the peculiar stillness of the dark warrior’s body. Sleeping cats moved: Their pelts rippled; their tails twitched from time to time. His paws felt suddenly heavy as he remembered how stiff Bramblestar’s body had looked when he’d seen Ashfur’s spirit rise from it in the Thunderclan leader’s den. He looks like that now.
