by Erin Hunter
“But what about the water level?” Dewpaw pointed out. “The safe ground has been swallowed up!”
Bramblestar realized the apprentice was right. Judging from what he recognized on the grassy slope—and it was difficult with so few markers here on the open moor—they were already standing above the three-fox-length boundary.
The five apprentices huddled together, darting scared glances up at the rest of WindClan’s territory. “We can’t go to the Gathering after all,” Seedpaw mewed, her tail drooping with disappointment. “Lilypaw and I missed it last moon, too. It’s not fair!”
“Of course we can go,” Cinderheart reassured her. “We measure the safe ground from wherever the water starts.” Unseen by the apprentices, she glanced questioningly at Bramblestar. He nodded, hoping that WindClan would agree.
There was no sign of other cats until the ThunderClan patrol drew close to the far border. Then the WindClan cats came pouring over the ridge, briefly outlined against the darkening sky. Their leader, Onestar, was a few paw steps ahead of the rest, with his new deputy, Harespring, just behind him.
Bramblestar saw the eyes of the WindClan warriors gleam with thinly veiled hostility when they saw the ThunderClan patrol. He guessed they were remembering the recent skirmish by the stream, and he felt himself bristling in response. He walked forward until he stood face-to-face with Onestar.
“Greetings, Onestar,” he meowed. “A fine night for a Gathering.”
Onestar gave him a curt nod. “Greetings to you, Bramblestar.”
Suddenly aware of pushing and growls of anger behind him, Bramblestar whipped around to see the WindClan cats jostling his Clanmates. Cherryfall slipped on the wet pebbles and almost lost her balance. Bramblestar felt his neck fur rise and knew that truce or no truce, a fight was about to break out. What is WindClan trying to prove?
“Please, Onestar,” he mewed, struggling to keep his voice steady, “take your warriors on ahead. With the water so high, we don’t want any accidents.”
Onestar dipped his head. “Thank you, Bramblestar.” Waving his tail to his warriors, he added, “Follow me.”
Muttered protests rose from the ThunderClan cats as the WindClan cats trotted along the lakeshore.
“If they want trouble, we can give it to them,” Thornclaw snarled.
“Don’t be a mouse-brain!” Squirrelflight hissed at him. “Strike the first blow, and we’d be the Clan who broke the truce. Beside, respect costs nothing, and we are on their territory.”
While he waited for the WindClan cats to draw ahead, Bramblestar spotted two sets of eyes gleaming from farther up the slope, on the other side of the border. He peered through the half light, but he couldn’t make out who the eyes belonged to.
“Daisy!” he called, turning back to his cats.
The cream-furred she-cat slid between her Clanmates and padded up to him. She didn’t often attend Gatherings, and now she looked startled to be called forward.
“Look up there,” Bramblestar murmured, pointing with his tail to where the eyes still shone. “Do you know who that is?”
Daisy took a breath, tasting the air. “Smoky!” she exclaimed, naming the cat who had been her friend when they both lived at the horseplace. Bramblestar couldn’t count the moons since she had last seen him, but she clearly hadn’t forgotten him. “Hey, Smoky, it’s me!” she yowled, raising her voice.
The eyes vanished abruptly.
Daisy’s tail drooped. “I wonder why he didn’t want to talk to me.”
“I wouldn’t let it worry you,” Bramblestar responded, resting his tail on Daisy’s shoulder. “Seeing a whole crowd of us has probably put him off.”
“I guess so,” Daisy agreed.
Since the WindClan cats had vanished into the twilight, Bramblestar led his cats across the marshy ground until they reached the tree-bridge that joined the lakeshore to the island. The water was so high that waves lapped the bottom of the trunk. Cherryfall trotted across first without even looking down at the lake, and the rest of the patrol streamed after her. Bramblestar kept a close eye on the apprentices, but after Snowpaw’s dunking they all took great care in placing their paws in the center of the tree trunk, even though they were quivering with excitement again.
Bramblestar shouldered his way into the lead as they forced their way through the bushes into the clearing in the middle of the island. The wide-reaching branches of the Great Oak cast slender black shadows across the moonlit ground. The other three Clans had already arrived, circling like fish in the open space.
The WindClan cats huddled together at one side, casting hostile glances at the other Clans as if they didn’t trust any cat to abide by the truce.
“At least it’s not just us that they have problems with,” Brackenfur murmured into Bramblestar’s ear.
“I suppose that’s some comfort,” Bramblestar whispered back.
Glancing around the clearing, he realized that WindClan was not the only Clan looking ill at ease. ShadowClan seemed restless, and divided into little muttering groups rather than standing together. Bramblestar wondered if Blackstar was too old and frail to pull his Clan together after the Great Battle, and whether some cats were already looking forward to a younger, stronger leader.
“What’s going on with RiverClan?” Squirrelflight muttered.
The usually sleek-furred cats looked nervous and ruffled as they clustered around their leader, Mistystar. Some of them were limping, or favoring paws with visibly ripped claws. What in the name of StarClan have they been doing to end up so battered? Bramblestar’s curiosity grew as he realized that it was the strongest warriors who showed most signs of hard, physical effort.
“Something’s wrong, that’s for sure,” he replied.
Mistystar left her Clanmates to thread her way across the clearing and jump into the branches of the Great Oak. Bramblestar realized it was time to begin the Gathering. He thrust a path through the crowd of cats and joined Mistystar in the tree.
Squirrelflight followed him to sit with the other deputies on the roots of the oak, while the medicine cats gathered nearby. Onestar jumped up into the tree beside Bramblestar, but Blackstar remained on the ground. Bramblestar tensed. Was the ShadowClan leader going to do this at every Gathering?
Blackstar waited until the other cats had found places to sit, and then announced, “Let us remember the fallen.” An uneasy silence settled over the clearing as he continued. “From ShadowClan: Redwillow, Shredtail, Toadfoot, Shrewfoot, Starlingwing, Olivenose, Applefur, Cedarheart, Tallpoppy, and Weaselkit. From ThunderClan: Firestar, Hollyleaf, Mousefur, Ferncloud, Sorreltail, Foxleap. From WindClan: Ashfoot, Owlwhisker, Swallowtail, Thistleheart . . .”
Bramblestar twitched his tail uncomfortably. Shouldn’t I be the one to speak the names from ThunderClan, and Onestar recall his WindClan Clanmates, if we have to do this at all?
At the first Gathering after the Great Battle, Blackstar had offered to recite the names of the cats who had died. Back then it had seemed appropriate, but Bramblestar wasn’t sure if they needed to begin every Gathering like this. He sensed that the other leaders shared his uneasiness, and when Blackstar began to announce the RiverClan names, Mistystar stood up and balanced gracefully on her branch.
“Blackstar,” she interrupted with an edge to her voice, “none of us have forgotten the Clanmates that we lost to the Dark Forest. Let us remember our fallen in our own way. Since when have you spoken for all of us?”
CHAPTER 5
Blackstar looked up at the WindClan leader; Bramblestar could see shock and horror in his eyes.
“These cats are still with us, watching the Clanmates they died to save!” Blackstar protested. “We need to honor their memory!”
“But Blackstar,” Mistystar mewed more gently, “life moves on, just like the seasons. We don’t list every piece of prey we’ve eaten in the last moon, or remember every fallen leaf.”
Blackstar looked even more outraged. “Our Clanmates are not prey and fallen leav
es!” he gasped.
“I didn’t mean . . .” Mistystar began, but she was drowned by a growing clamor from the cats in the clearing. ShadowClan supported their leader, but many of the others were obviously as unhappy as Bramblestar about the List of the Fallen.
“Why aren’t we capable of honoring our own dead?” Cloudtail demanded.
“And why is Blackstar the only cat allowed to speak?” Crowfeather challenged from WindClan.
Bramblestar jumped to his paws, waving his tail for silence. This wasn’t an issue to break the truce over. “I agree with Mistystar,” he meowed when he could make himself heard. “Each Clan should be allowed to remember the fallen in its own way.”
Blackstar’s neck fur bristled and he drew his lips back in a snarl. “You are too quick to forget that we fought as one Clan against the Dark Forest.”
“But we are not one Clan now,” Bramblestar reminded him. “We are four Clans, just as we were before.”
Blackstar whirled around and began to stalk away from the Great Oak. “My Clan will not stay to hear our dead warriors scorned by the other Clans!” he hissed. “You all owe them a debt, just as we do.”
Instantly his deputy, Rowanclaw, jumped up from his place on the oak roots and ran after his leader. “Come back, Blackstar,” he urged. “No cat has shown any disrespect to us. Things are changing, that’s all.” As Blackstar halted, looking bewildered, Rowanclaw added, “Each Clan faces new challenges, and nothing stays the same forever. Look at ShadowClan: We’re not weak and broken now as we were after the battle. No, we’re a Clan you can be proud of. And we owe that to you, our leader.”
After a long pause, Blackstar turned and scrambled up into the Great Oak to take his place with the other leaders. Bramblestar sought out his sister Tawnypelt and met her gaze, giving her a nod to acknowledge Rowanclaw’s well-judged words. Tawnypelt’s green eyes glowed with pride in her mate.
“Thank you, Blackstar,” Mistystar meowed, dipping her head to the ShadowClan leader. “You can be sure that all the Clans will remember their dead for as long as the forest lasts.” Raising her eyes to the stars, she went on, “Ancestors of all the Clans, look down on us here and guide us through the hard days to come. Welcome the new starry warriors among you, and keep the memory of them fresh in our minds. We honor them, and all of you, now and always.”
A ripple swept through the clearing like wind through grass as each cat bowed his or her head to hear Mistystar’s prayer.
“Now,” Mistystar continued more briskly, “moonlight is passing, and we still haven’t begun. I’ll go first, shall I?” She glanced briefly at the other leaders, then announced, “We have had to move our camp a little farther back from the lake, because the water level is so high. But all is well, and there’s still a good supply of fish.”
Bramblestar caught Squirrelflight’s eye below him. That’s why the RiverClan warriors look so tired and pawsore, and why they seem so unsettled.
“And we have new kits in RiverClan,” Mistystar reported, with a satisfied swish of her tail. “Petalfur gave birth to a she-cat and two toms.”
Bramblestar spotted the brown tabby warrior Mallownose looking very proud. He must be the father.
As the other cats murmured congratulations, Mistystar stepped back. “Would you like to speak next, Blackstar?”
The ShadowClan leader rose to his paws. Bramblestar thought that he looked older than ever, white as bone against the dark branches. “ShadowClan is strong and thriving,” he announced. “Snowbird has had three kits, all she-cats.”
He sank back down on his branch, while below in the clearing Scorchfur looked smug, licking one paw and passing it over his ear.
Onestar stood up. “There’s excellent hunting in WindClan,” he reported. “Birds have been coming inland from the sun-drown-place, blown by the wind. They don’t seem to be comfortable landing on grass, which makes them easy to catch. And although we have no new kits yet, we expect good news soon.”
His gaze rested on Sedgewhisker, who gave her chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks, and leaned into her mate, Emberfoot.
Bramblestar’s pads prickled with disquiet as he stepped to the end of his branch and looked out over the cats. Why are the other leaders making such a big deal about new kits? It’s barely newleaf; there’s plenty of time to fill the nursery. “We have been strengthening our boundaries,” he announced, his tail-tip twitching. Pay attention, ShadowClan and WindClan! “And five new apprentices have begun their training: Lilypaw, Seedpaw, Amberpaw, Snowpaw, and Dewpaw. Lilypaw and Seedpaw have been apprentices for three moons, but this is their first Gathering. All are learning fast, and will make excellent warriors.”
“Lilypaw!”
“Seedpaw!”
“Amberpaw!”
“Snowpaw!”
“Dewpaw!”
As their names were yowled to the star-filled sky, the five young cats sat up straight, their eyes burning with pride. Bramblestar jumped as wind rattled the branches above him, and the Great Oak creaked in the cold blast. A scrap of cloud drifted across the moon, briefly dimming the silver light that bathed the island.
“The Gathering is over!” Onestar called out.
The cats on the ground began to break up into smaller groups. As he leaped down from the tree, Bramblestar spotted Squirrelflight staring at Tigerheart and Ratscar from ShadowClan, who were chatting with Cherryfall and Ivypool.
“You look like a hawk sizing up its prey,” he meowed as he slipped through the crowd of cats to Squirrelflight’s side. “Tigerheart and Ratscar are just being friendly.”
“There are some cats I’ll never be able to trust again,” Squirrelflight growled.
“They’re not your Clanmates; you don’t have to trust them,” Bramblestar murmured. “But you can’t make them enemies because of a mistake they made in the past.”
Squirrelflight let out a snort. “I bet I can.”
Bramblestar didn’t bother to argue. He knew it would take a long time for his deputy to put aside her mistrust of any cat who had been led astray by the warriors of the Dark Forest. He struggled himself with the knowledge of what a few of his Clanmates had done. Some wounds are slow to heal. Instead he looked around for his sister Tawnypelt, and spotted her squeezing through a group of her Clanmates as she made her way toward him.
“Hi,” she purred, touching noses with him. “It’s good to see you, Bramblestar.”
“And you,” Bramblestar replied. “Rowanclaw did a brilliant job with Blackstar.”
Tawnypelt’s purr deepened. “I know. Rowanclaw is great.”
“And he’ll make a good leader,” Bramblestar went on. “It can’t be long now. . . .”
Instantly Tawnypelt’s neck fur bristled. “Are you suggesting that Blackstar is too old to lead us?” she growled. “Because you’re wrong! Blackstar is fine.”
“Okay, okay!” Bramblestar took a pace back. “Keep your pelt on!”
Tawnypelt lashed her tail once, then pressed her muzzle into her brother’s shoulder. “Take care, you stupid furball,” she meowed as she turned to rejoin her Clanmates.
Bramblestar noticed that Tigerheart was still talking to Ivypool, though Cherryfall and Ratscar had moved on. Faintly curious, he eased his way into earshot.
“Where’s Dovewing?” Tigerheart was asking.
Ivypool had a guarded look, and her tone was distant as she replied. “She’s in the camp.”
“With Bumblestripe?” Tigerheart glanced around as if he was looking for the pale gray tom.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Ivypool retorted.
Bramblestar wondered why Tigerheart would want to see Dovewing. Cats in other Clans never learned about the Three’s special powers, so it can’t be that he wants her to see something far away.
The tiny incident reminded Bramblestar that the Clans needed to live separately now. He would always be proud of the cats for coming together to fight against the Dark Forest. I’m honored to have fought alon
gside them, but that time has passed. We need to reinforce the borders of our territories, and the boundaries that we can’t see, the ones between cat and cat.
On his way across the clearing he paused to chat with Pouncetail, a RiverClan elder, who began telling him a long, complicated story about catching fish. Maybe I should introduce him to Purdy, Bramblestar thought. He was distracted from the tale by a sharp prod in his side, and turned to see Squirrelflight.
“You need to give the signal to leave,” she hissed. “WindClan and ShadowClan have already gone.”
Embarrassment stabbed through Bramblestar. I forgot that’s my job now!
“You’re the leader now,” Pouncetail teased him gently. “You have to make all the hard decisions. You’re lucky to have Squirrelflight to keep you in line!”
“I certainly am,” Bramblestar agreed. Watching Squirrelflight as she began efficiently rounding up their Clanmates, he added to himself, I’d be lost without her as my deputy.
Bramblestar returned to camp with the dawn patrol just as the sun burned off the last of the early mist. It’s going to be another warm day, he thought.
As he emerged from the thorns, Bramblestar was surprised to see Daisy pacing nervously in front of the nursery. As soon as she spotted him she came bounding over.
“Bramblestar, I’m so worried!” she burst out.
“What’s the matter?” Bramblestar asked, resting his tail on the she-cat’s shoulder.
“It’s Smoky and Floss at the horseplace,” Daisy replied. “I think Smoky was waiting for us when we were going to the Gathering, but he was too scared to come and talk to us.”
Bramblestar wasn’t convinced. “He might just have been watching—”
“No, why would he?” Daisy interrupted, working her paws anxiously into the earth. “Those cats stay out of the way of the Clans. Please, Bramblestar, let me go to the horseplace and make sure everything’s okay.”
Bramblestar hesitated for a moment, gazing into Daisy’s eyes and seeing her fear for her friends. “Okay, but I’ll go with you.”
