by Erin Hunter
Silence gripped the Clans for a moment. Then Kestrelflight cleared his throat. “If Ashfur is torturing spirits, surely we have to kill him? We should do something to break his hold on the living. Perhaps then he’ll have less power over the dead.”
“You don’t know that!” Squirrelflight gasped.
Tigerstar puffed out his chest. “We’ve argued enough!” he snapped. “We don’t know what will happen, but we have to act and we have to act quickly! Ashfur is clearly planning something, and it’s not safe to wait and find out what it is.”
Harestar nodded. “He’s already caused enough trouble in the Clans. Warriors have died because of him. We can’t risk losing more.”
Rootspring closed his eyes, wishing more cats would speak up for Bramblestar. He remembered the first time Bramblestar’s ghost had appeared to him—how desperate the Thunderclan leader had looked as he’d begged for help. But it sounded as though the leaders had made up their minds. Angry whispers fluttered through the crowd.
“Ashfur must die,” Lizardtail called.
Yarrowleaf curled her lip. “We should kill him before any other warriors die.”
“Kill him,” Emberfoot growled.
“Kill him!”
“Kill him!”
The cry echoed around the Clans, growing louder and louder until Rootspring flattened his ears against the yowls. He felt dizzy as Tigerstar gazed calmly at the gathered cats. Harestar dipped his head, as though acknowledging the will of the crowd.
Rootspring felt Tree stiffen. His father raised his muzzle and shouted over the noise. “Are the Clans so eager to kill in cold blood?” Around him, the yowling faltered and died away as the warriors turned to see who had spoken. Tree pressed on. “It’s been a long time since I was with the Sisters, but I know they would never deliberately sacrifice a cat in an attempt to change their destiny.” He was staring at Tigerstar. “The Sisters only kill in self-defense.”
Tigerstar narrowed his eyes. “This is self-defense.”
Leafstar stepped to the edge of the branch. “Can you truly say that, faced with a cat like Ashfur, the Sisters wouldn’t make the same decision? They seemed frightened of him when they contacted the spirit cats. . . .”
Harestar yowled to speak over the murmurs of agreement. “We’ll be putting Bramblestar out of his misery. Isn’t that the right thing to do? We’ll be protecting his spirit.”
Tigerstar nodded. “We’ll be protecting all the spirits. If Ashfur is torturing our fallen warriors, I’m sure Bramblestar would want us to stop him any way we could.”
Tree’s gaze clouded with uncertainty. The Clans shifted in awkward silence.
Mistystar swished her tail. “The leaders must vote to decide.” She nodded toward the end of the branch. “Any leader who thinks Ashfur should die will go there.” Her gaze switched toward the trunk. “Any leader who thinks he should live, come to this end.”
Squirrelflight, already huddled in the crook of the branch, pressed closer to the trunk. Rootspring felt a flicker of hope as Mistystar stayed beside the Thunderclan leader. Two of them wanted to give Bramblestar a chance. Tigerstar dipped his head and padded to the other end. He looked back expectantly until Harestar followed and stood beside him.
Rootspring’s breath caught in his throat. Leafstar was hesitating in the middle. Her gaze flicked from one end to another.
The SkyClan leader shifted uncertainly. Which way would she go? Rootspring couldn’t press back the desperation clawing in his belly. “I was one of the last cats to see Bramblestar!” he called out. “I know how much he wanted to return to the Clans. You can’t kill his body. He still needs it. I know he does! He wouldn’t give up this easily.”
Dovewing nodded eagerly. “We can’t even be sure that killing Bramblestar’s body will stop Ashfur!” she yowled. “We might change nothing. We’d only be killing a cat who doesn’t deserve to die.”
Leafstar’s paws trembled. Rootspring willed the SkyClan leader to agree. Don’t let them kill Bramblestar. He realized he was holding his breath.
Leafstar dipped her head to Squirrelflight. “I’m sorry. But I have to do what I think is right for my Clan.” She turned and walked slowly toward Tigerstar.
Bramblestar. The earth seemed to tremble beneath Rootspring’s paws. They were going to kill him. He pressed his pads into it, praying for strength. What if the lost leader could never return? Rootspring swallowed back anger as shocked whispers filled the air. He turned his head, glaring at the warriors crowding the clearing. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?
Tigerstar squared his shoulders. “Now we must decide who will kill him.”
Mothwing padded forward. “I can give him deathberries,” she mewed. “It will be easy to hide the juice and seeds in a piece of prey. It would be quick. He wouldn’t realize he was dying until it was too late.”
Tigerstar flicked his tail. “Ashfur must die like a warrior,” he growled. “We must kill him with our own claws.”
Rootspring swallowed. The ShadowClan leader’s dark amber eyes sparked with satisfaction. Did Tigerstar want to rip Ashfur to pieces to avenge the attack on his son?
“I agree.” Harestar lifted his chin. “That fox-heart doesn’t deserve an easy death after all he’s done to the Clans. The warriors he killed didn’t have an easy death—why should he?”
Leafstar looked solemnly around the leaders. “Then we must kill him together.” As her gaze reached Squirrelflight, the Thunderclan leader pressed herself harder against the trunk. “So that no one cat is to blame.”
“I could never . . .” Squirrelflight’s eyes were wide with horror. Her mew collapsed into a sob. How could any cat expect her to kill her mate?
Leafstar nodded. “I understand.”
“Let’s do it now.” Tigerstar’s eyes looked as hard as stone. They glittered with determination in the starlight as he gazed across the gathered cats. “Any cat who wants to be a part of this can follow.” He jumped down from the oak, Harestar at his tail. Leafstar and Mistystar followed, pushing after him as he headed through the crowd.
Thunderclan, RiverClan, and WindClan fell back as they passed. SkyClan and ShadowClan watched them go with rounded eyes. Did they regret what they’d done? Then, one by one, warriors began to join the patrol. Crowfeather, Lionblaze, and Hawkwing led the way. Lizardtail and Mallownose scurried after them. Bumblestripe and Emberfoot fell in as they passed.
Rootspring steadied his breath. This was actually happening. He glanced around the warriors left behind, instinctively searching for Bristlefrost. She was staring at him, her eyes bright with dread. He knew why she was scared. What would become of Thunderclan when Bramblestar was dead? And what about Squirrelflight? How could she ever look the other leaders in the face—or even her own Clanmates—knowing they’d murdered her mate?
Rootspring froze. Where was Squirrelflight? He looked toward the oak. The branch where she’d crouched was empty. He scanned the clearing. There was no sign of her. As Tigerstar led the way toward the tree-bridge, Rootspring saw the long grass quiver. He narrowed his eyes. A dark shape was hurrying ahead of the patrol. Squirrelflight! Where was she going? Foreboding wormed beneath Rootspring’s pelt. What was she planning to do?
Chapter 23
Bristlefrost gasped, her breath catching as she took in the empty branch where Squirrelflight had been huddled against the trunk. Where’s she gone? She scanned the island clearing. Tigerstar was leading Harestar, Mistystar, and Leafstar to the long grass. Their deputies followed. More and more warriors had fallen in behind them, swelling the patrol until it seemed to spread like a shadow over the shore.
Rootspring was staring past them, his eyes bright with alarm.
She raced toward him. “Squirrelflight’s gone,” she gasped as she reached him.
“She ran ahead of them.” He nodded toward the long grass. “She’s probably crossed the bridge by now.”
Bristlefrost’s pelt sparked with fear. “She’s heading for the ShadowClan camp,”
she breathed.
Rootspring’s eyes widened. “We have to stop her.”
Squirrelflight loved Bramblestar enough to give up her life, her leadership, her Clan. Certainty pressed like stone in Bristlefrost’s chest. Squirrelflight would do anything to save her mate. “She’ll fight us.”
“If she gets to him before Tigerstar, the Clans will never forgive her.”
“But she can’t save him alone.” What could one cat do against all the Clans?
“She can warn him they’re coming,” Rootspring growled. “She might help him escape.”
“Maybe she’s doing the right thing.” Bristlefrost stared desperately at Rootspring. “Thunderclan needs Bramblestar back.”
“What if he can’t come back?” Rootspring’s gaze was hard. She felt it pierce her like ice. “Squirrelflight won’t be helping Bramblestar escape; she’ll be helping Ashfur. And if she betrays the Clans like that, there will be no cat left to hold Thunderclan together.”
Bristlefrost swallowed. He was right. Thunderclan was already falling apart; if it lost Squirrelflight, it might never recover. “Do you think we can stop her before she reaches him?”
“We can try.” Rootspring headed after Tigerstar’s patrol.
Bristlefrost raced beside him. “We can cut across RiverClan territory,” she whispered.
Ahead, warriors were streaming across the bridge. She stopped beside Rootspring as they waited for the patrol to pass. “Why do you care so much about Thunderclan?” She searched Rootspring’s gaze. “You’re a SkyClan warrior.”
“I care about you.” His eyes glittered with starlight. “And I care about Squirrelflight. She’s lost too much already. She mustn’t lose her Clan.”
Bristlefrost’s throat tightened. Rootspring was the kindest, bravest cat she knew. Her heart felt like it would break. “If we save Thunderclan,” she breathed, “I will stay with them.”
He didn’t flinch. “I know.”
Love surged in Bristlefrost’s chest. Rootspring was willing to fight to save something she cared about, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.
Ahead of them, the tree-bridge stood empty as the last of the patrol crossed, but Rootspring held her gaze. “I can’t join Thunderclan for you,” he mewed. “I belong in SkyClan. It will always be my home.”
Bristlefrost froze. In a way, she’d known it all along, but grief still hit her like a wave. She let it flood her without fighting it. He’d made his decision and she understood it. If Rootspring left SkyClan for her, he wouldn’t be the warrior she’d grown to love. And if she left Thunderclan for him, then all they had fought for together would mean nothing. It had to be this way.
The patrol was heading toward ShadowClan territory.
Rootspring jerked his gaze away. “Come on.” He leaped onto the tree-bridge and raced along it.
Bristlefrost followed, digging her claws in to steady herself on the smooth wood. Stones shifted beneath her paws as she leaped onto the far shore. Ahead, Rootspring kept low as he streaked toward the reeds. He disappeared like a shadow among the stems. One eye on the patrol, she hurried after him. No cat had looked back to see them slip away. Once they were in the cover of the marsh grass, Rootspring picked up the pace. She stayed close behind him as they raced toward the ShadowClan border. Her breath burned and her chest ached, but she didn’t slow. Squirrelflight was somewhere up ahead. Had the Thunderclan leader come this way? Had she also planned to stay ahead of the patrol by cutting across RiverClan land?
Bristlefrost tasted the air, but RiverClan scents drowned out every other smell. The dank stench of stagnant water filled her nose. Mud squelched beneath her paws. Stems pressed close on either side as Rootspring led the way, zigzagging between the thick clumps of reeds. She prayed they didn’t run into a RiverClan patrol. How would they explain their presence here?
The ground grew harder beneath her paws. The reeds opened onto meadow, and brambles spilled over a rise ahead. Pines grew there, and at last Bristlefrost smelled forest scents once more. The sharp tang of the ShadowClan border cut through the air.
Rootspring glanced over his shoulder, catching her eye as though reassuring her before he leaped up the slope and darted through a gap in the brambles. She began to catch up to him, her paws surer now on firmer ground. Thorns scraped her pelt as she pushed through the brambles. She let him lead, let him swerve between the pines, following his paw steps as he cut a line through the forest. How did he know which way to run? This terrain was unfamiliar to Bristlefrost. Did Rootspring know the way to the ShadowClan camp from here?
“Can you smell Squirrelflight’s scent?” she panted. Perhaps he’d picked it up where she’d missed it and was following it now.
“No,” he mewed. “But this is the quickest route to the camp. If Squirrelflight is trying to reach Ashfur before the patrol, this is the way she’ll go.”
“Can we get there before her?” As hope sparked in Bristlefrost’s belly, she glimpsed orange fur between the trees ahead. “There!”
A warrior was racing through the forest a few tree-lengths ahead. Squirrelflight! Her ears were flat. Wind streamed through her pelt.
Struggling for breath, Bristlefrost ran harder. They had to catch Squirrelflight before she reached the ShadowClan camp. Rootspring pushed ahead, his paws thumping against the forest floor. Pine needles sprayed as he swerved to cut across Squirrelflight’s path. The Thunderclan leader’s gaze was fixed on the forest ahead. She didn’t see him as he veered from behind a swath of ferns and flung himself toward her.
Bristlefrost slowed, pulling up as Rootspring slammed his paws into Squirrelflight’s flank. He sent her thudding onto the forest floor. Her eyes narrowed into slits and she hissed as she scrambled up and faced her attacker.
“It’s me!” Rootspring stared at her, but Squirrelflight’s hackles were high. She lunged at him, claws stretched, and flung him onto his side. Hooking deep into his pelt with her foreclaws, she rolled him onto his back and kicked her hind paws into his belly.
“Stop!” Bristlefrost raced toward her. “We want to help you!”
Rootspring twisted from Squirrelflight’s grip, but he didn’t fight back. Instead he flattened himself to the ground and stared at her pleadingly.
She scowled at him, her gaze flicking once more toward the ShadowClan camp. “Leave me alone.” She hared forward, but Rootspring reached out and caught her forepaws with his. She stumbled and rolled, swinging her muzzle toward him with a snarl. “Don’t you understand?” Her eyes burned with fury. “Tigerstar’s bringing a patrol to kill Bramblestar. I have to save him.”
Bristlefrost stared at her. “You can’t fight every cat in the Clans!”
“I can help him get away.” Squirrelflight lashed her tail.
“They’ll know who did it,” Rootspring leaped to his paws. “They’ll never forgive you.” He thrust his muzzle closer. “You won’t be saving Bramblestar,” he mewed. “You’ll be saving Ashfur.”
“Thunderclan needs a leader!” Blood roared in Bristlefrost’s ears. “If you do this, we’ll have lost two—Bramblestar and you.” She stared imploringly into Squirrelflight’s eyes. “And we’ll become the Clan that saved Ashfur after he tried to destroy us all. Do you think we could survive that, without a leader? Do you think Thornclaw, or Graystripe, or any of the others will want to return?”
Squirrelflight hesitated, glancing once more toward the ShadowClan camp, but less certainly this time. “It’s Bramblestar’s body,” she whispered. “How can he return if there’s nothing for him to return to?”
Bristlefrost blinked at her. “How can he return if you help Ashfur survive?”
Squirrelflight stiffened. The determination in her eyes faded into grief. “Bramblestar might find his way back,” she mewed helplessly.
Rootspring held her gaze. “If he could, don’t you think he’d have done it by now?”
“You really think he’s gone?” Squirrelflight’s mew was taut with pain.
“I haven’
t seen him in so long. Even the Sisters couldn’t reach him.” Rootspring’s pelt was still prickling along his spine.
Bristlefrost swallowed back pity as Squirrelflight seemed to sway. Was she going to collapse?
The Thunderclan leader shifted her paws to steady herself. Her flanks shuddered as she drew in a heavy breath. “I’ve imagined losing Bramblestar many times,” she whispered. “In battles, to sickness, but never like this. I thought I’d have eight more lives to say good-bye, but he’s gone before I was ready, and I can’t let go of the idea that he’s still out there.”
“He’s not,” Rootspring mewed. “Something terrible is happening to the spirits around the lake. Perhaps it’s better that he’s not among them.”
Squirrelflight lifted her head. “Do you think he’s free from suffering, wherever he is?”
Rootspring returned her gaze. “I don’t know.”
Bristlefrost padded closer. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to let go,” she mewed. “But you have to think of your Clan. You can’t do anything for Bramblestar now, but you can hold your Clan together.” She dug her claws into the earth. “You can rebuild Thunderclan as its leader. You can make sure it stays strong. Isn’t that what Bramblestar would have wanted?”
Paw steps pounded in the distance. Beyond the ferns and the thick pines, the patrol was nearing the camp.
Squirrelflight glanced toward the sound, her eyes rounding with grief. “Bramblestar would always have chosen Thunderclan over his own life.” Her emerald gaze glittered in the shadow of the pines. “If he must die, then Thunderclan must survive. I will do everything I can to save it.”
Relief flooded like cool air through Bristlefrost’s pelt. For the first time in a while, she heard clarity in Squirrelflight’s mew. The Thunderclan leader meant to keep this promise.
Yowls echoed between the trees and a screech of pain rose above them. Bristlefrost shivered. Had Tigerstar and the other leaders killed Ashfur at last?
