by Erin Hunter
“I can’t find the memorial branch,” the medicine cat replied.
Scanning the edge of the flood, Bramblestar guessed that the branch had been swept away by the wave that had knocked Squirrelflight and Briarlight underwater. He thought he could spot it floating several fox-lengths away, but there were so many pieces of debris tossing on the flood that he couldn’t be certain it was the right one. “It’s gone,” he meowed. “Washed away.”
“But it held the memory of our dead Clanmates!” Jayfeather wailed.
“No, our hearts and minds hold those memories,” Bramblestar reminded him. “And the branch saved the cats who needed its help. Now we hold that memory as well.” When Jayfeather did not reply, he added, “When all this is over, you can make another.”
Jayfeather mumbled agreement and turned away.
Brackenfur took the lead as the little group of drenched cats plodded up the hill under the trees. His shoulders ached under Briarlight’s weight, and his paws kept slipping on the muddy ground. Branches lashed at them, the trees almost bent double in the wind. Closer to the cliffs the ground was more open, and the going would be easier, but Bramblestar didn’t dare go closer to the edge. We could all be blown over, back into the hollow.
“I’m going to fetch some of the others to help,” Squirrelflight announced, breaking into a run.
Where does she get her energy? Bramblestar wondered, feeling as weary and battered as the oldest elder. He carried on toiling up the slope until he saw Squirrelflight coming back with a group of his Clanmates. Millie was racing ahead, stumbling and skidding in her haste to get to her daughter. Graystripe was close behind, with Lionblaze and Cinderheart.
“Briarlight!” Millie screeched as she reached Bramblestar and the others. “Are you okay?” She covered her daughter with frantic licks.
“I’m fine,” Briarlight replied hoarsely. “My Clanmates looked after me.”
Millie turned toward Bramblestar, blinking in gratitude. “Thank you,” she meowed. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
Bramblestar felt hot with embarrassment. “Every cat helped,” he mumbled.
Lionblaze stepped forward. “Here, let me carry her. You must be exhausted.”
Bramblestar was only too willing to let the other cats transfer Briarlight from his back to Lionblaze’s. As they set off up the slope again, Graystripe gave Bramblestar a boost under his shoulder, while Squirrelflight and Cinderheart helped Purdy. At the top of the slope Bramblestar saw that Sandstorm had gathered the rest of the cats under a beech tree. It didn’t give much shelter, but although the branches lashed and groaned in the wind, they were sturdy enough not to snap. Soaked and scared, the cats huddled together in a mass of drenched fur.
Several pairs of eyes stared anxiously at Bramblestar as he reached them. “We’ll stay here until the storm passes,” he decided. “Try to get some rest if you can.” He sank to the ground where he was, dazed with tiredness and only half-aware of Squirrelflight coming to lie next to him, warming him with her fur.
Bramblestar woke to a strange calm, and for a moment he wondered where he was. He should have been asleep in his den on the Highledge, not dozing uncomfortably on a thin layer of fallen leaves. Then he saw branches densely blocking out the sky above him, and heard his Clanmates stirring, and he remembered the desperate escape from the hollow in the middle of the night. The rain had stopped and the wind died down to a faint, whispering breeze. The sky was still covered with cloud, but it was much thinner, and a silver glow suggested that the sun had climbed almost to sunhigh. Bramblestar hauled himself stiffly to his paws and padded out of the shelter of the beech tree.
From up here, he could look out at the whole lake and the land beyond. For a moment he swayed on his paws. The forest was a wreck of swirling water and floating debris. Water reflecting the pale gray sky had risen up the sides of the hill and spilled over the far shore, swallowing up the fields as far as Bramblestar could see.
RiverClan has been completely flooded! he thought, every hair on his pelt rising in horror. WindClan should be okay, he added to himself as his gaze swept around to take in the moor. Their camp is pretty high up. His belly lurched when he turned to look out across ShadowClan territory. The flat area of pines was waterlogged, with only the top halves of the trees sticking up above the flood.
“This is terrible!” Birchfall gasped, padding up behind Bramblestar. “What has happened to the other Clans?”
“We need to worry about our own Clan first,” Bramblestar replied. We’re in no state to help any other cats.
More warriors emerged from the shelter of the tree and studied the devastation with looks of stunned disbelief. Bramblestar beckoned to some of them with his tail. “I want a patrol to come down with me and check out the hollow,” he meowed. “Cloudtail, Brightheart, Cherryfall—and you too, Birchfall.”
With the cats he had named squelching after him through the muddy grass, Bramblestar led the way down the slope to a point on the cliff top where they could get a good view of the whole camp. His heart lurched when he looked over the edge. All that was left of the ThunderClan camp was a pool of gray water that stretched halfway up the cliff. There was no sign of the clearing, or the dens, or even the Highledge. Our home is gone!
“Great StarClan!” Cloudtail whispered beside him. “What are we going to do now?”
CHAPTER 9
“We can’t shelter under this tree forever,” Bramblestar announced. “We need to find somewhere to make a temporary camp.”
When the patrol had returned from the flooded hollow, Bramblestar had called a Clan meeting. To his surprise, his Clan seemed undaunted by the challenge of finding a new home.
“What about the old Twoleg nest?” Blossomfall suggested.
Bramblestar shook his head. “It’s lower than the hollow,” he replied. “It’ll be flooded.”
“Why don’t we use the tunnels?” Ivypool meowed.
Bramblestar heard a sharp intake of breath from Lionblaze, and remembered how the golden tabby warrior had once been trapped when the tunnels flooded. Other cats were exchanging nervous glances. But remembering his own vague knowledge of the tunnels from Hollyleaf’s training and the battle with WindClan, Bramblestar thought the idea had possibilities. It’s probably the best we can do.
“Good thinking, Ivypool,” he meowed. “And no cat needs to worry about getting lost or trapped by rising water. We’ll stay well away from the cavern where the underground river flows.”
His Clanmates started talking to one another, raising their voices to be heard above the clashing of the branches overhead. To Bramblestar’s dismay, the lull in the storm was over. The rain had started again and the wind was growing stronger. Heavy drops of rain penetrated the branches of the beech tree, soaking fur that had begun to dry out.
“I don’t care where we go,” Berrynose declared. “I just want somewhere out of the wet!”
Bramblestar ordered Lionblaze and Cinderheart to take the Clan to the tunnel entrance on the hillside above the cliffs.
Squirrelflight gathered the apprentices together and spoke in a low voice. “I want you all to look after Purdy,” she told them. “He’s had a tough time and he must be feeling sore and tired. But for StarClan’s sake, don’t let him know that you’re helping him.”
Lilypaw nodded, looking thoughtful. “I know! We’ll ask him to help us.” She pattered over to Purdy. “We’re scared about going into the tunnels,” she mewed to the old cat. “Will you stay with us?”
“Sure, young ’un.” Purdy heaved himself to his paws. “Nothin’ to be scared of when you’re with me.”
He stumbled off after Lionblaze and Cinderheart with all the apprentices clustered around him.
Squirrelflight glanced at Bramblestar with a smug flick of her whiskers. “Easy . . .” she murmured.
Bramblestar blinked gratefully at her, then turned to Dovewing. “Can you guide Jayfeather?” he asked her.
“Sure.”
“I
can guide myself, thanks,” Jayfeather cut in with a snort.
“No, you can’t.” Bramblestar stood over the scrawny medicine cat. “Jayfeather, there may be a time when it helps for you to be an uncooperative furball, but this isn’t it. The whole forest has changed because of the wind. There are fallen trees, branches scattered everywhere . . . Just let Dovewing help you, and put up with it.”
Jayfeather sighed. “Yes, O great Clan leader.”
Leaving Dovewing to cope with him, Bramblestar went to look for Briarlight. He found her near the trunk of the beech tree with Millie and Graystripe. “Up you come,” he meowed, crouching down so that she could climb onto his back. “We’ll soon have you somewhere dry.”
“I’m giving you so much trouble,” Briarlight murmured as Graystripe helped her onto Bramblestar’s shoulders.
“No, you’re not,” Millie purred, though her eyes were worried. Bramblestar guessed that she was bothered by her daughter’s depressed mood.
“You’re doing me a favor, actually,” he told Briarlight. “You’ll keep the rain off my back while you’re up there. And you’re no heavier than a good-sized squirrel!”
That wasn’t entirely true, he thought as he plodded up the hillside. Briarlight’s weight pressed down on his shoulders, making it hard to force a way through the tangled undergrowth. The rest of the cats followed in a miserable line, their heads down and their tails trailing in the mud while the howling wind swept their fur backward.
When they reached the entrance to the tunnels, half-hidden behind an outcrop of rocks, the cats clustered around, waiting for their turn to squeeze inside. Though the dark hole looked forbidding, they were all eager to get out of the storm.
“Wow, this is so weird!” Amberpaw exclaimed as she padded a couple of tail-lengths down the tunnel. “You said Hollyleaf lived down here? Did she really?” she asked Spiderleg.
Her mentor nodded. “She did, for several moons. None of us knew she was here.”
“And you fought WindClan here?” Dewpaw added. “How did you see anything?”
“What happened if you got lost?” Snowpaw shuddered, though Bramblestar thought he was enjoying the adventure. “What if you never found your way out?”
“That’s enough,” Whitewing meowed. “You can’t stand here chattering all day.”
“Yes, you’re blocking the tunnel,” Ivypool hissed. “Cats are waiting out in the rain.”
“Sorry,” Seedpaw mewed, nudging the younger apprentices ahead of her. “They’re still kits, really,” she added to Ivypool.
“Kit yourself!” Amberpaw retorted.
“Let’s explore,” Dewpaw urged. “I want to see everything. Come on, Purdy.”
“Don’t go far!” Ivypool called after them.
Hoping that Purdy would stop the apprentices from doing anything too stupid, Bramblestar followed them down the tunnel. When he reached a place where it grew a little wider, just before the light from the entrance faded entirely, he let Briarlight slide from his shoulders. Millie rushed up to her daughter and began to groom her fur, licking it the wrong way to dry it and warm her up.
As the rest of the cats settled around them in pulpy mounds of wet fur, Bramblestar wondered what kind of life Hollyleaf had led in the darkness of the tunnels. He had a vivid memory of the starlit cat who had stood over Hollyleaf as she died in the Great Battle. What was his name? Fallen Leaves. He wasn’t a Clan cat, but he seemed to know Hollyleaf very well. I wonder if they met down here.
“Bramblestar.” Cinderheart’s voice roused him from his thoughts.
Bramblestar twitched his ears. “Yes, what is it?”
“Do you think we should explore a bit farther?” the gray she-cat asked. “Should we check if there’s any flooding belowground? With all this rain . . .”
“Good thinking,” Bramblestar responded, though inwardly he winced at the thought of having to get up and move again. “Find some other cats to go with us.”
Cinderheart nodded and padded away, returning a moment later with Lionblaze and Ivypool. Bramblestar rose to his paws and led them down the tunnel. They had to pick their way through the rest of the ThunderClan cats, who bunched anxiously together, unhappy in the cold shadows. Purdy was farthest down the tunnel, with all five apprentices clustered around him.
“So we all climbed onto the branch,” he was meowing. “Squirrelflight had to tie Briarlight on with a bit of ivy . . .”
The apprentices had their jaws open with excitement. Even in his weary state, Bramblestar had to stifle a mrrow of amusement to think that their desperate struggle for safety had already become a thrilling story for Purdy to tell. Satisfied that his Clan was safe for the time being, he headed into the darkness. The damp underpaw owed nothing to the recent rain and everything to the absence of sunlight and fresh air down here. Bramblestar had always been uneasy in the tunnels, but this time something was different. Before he had always felt as if he was being watched, as if there was something just out of hearing or sight in the shadows. But now the passages felt silent and empty. Somehow this made them even bleaker and more unwelcoming, especially as the light faded behind the warriors until they walked in complete darkness.
Bramblestar could tell that Ivypool and Lionblaze felt the difference too: There was a wariness about them, a subtle change in their scent, as if they were expecting something to happen.
The tunnel led downward in a straight line, so narrow that Bramblestar could feel his pelt brushing the walls on both sides.
“We should come to a side tunnel soon,” Lionblaze meowed after a while. “We ought to take it, and check out the main cave.”
Before he had taken many more paw steps, Bramblestar felt a colder flow of air from one side, and turned into the new tunnel. This passage was narrower still, and twisted around sharp corners so that Bramblestar had to swallow down a fear of getting his shoulders wedged. A dull roar came up the tunnel to greet them, growing louder as they headed farther down. Gradually Bramblestar realized that he could see the walls ahead of him in a dim light.
“We’re getting close to the cave,” he reported.
A heartbeat later he halted with icy black water lapping against his paws. The cave was filled with a dark torrent, waves glinting in the light that came from the crack in the roof.
“Get back!” Bramblestar warned.
When he and his Clanmates had retreated several paw steps from the water’s edge, Bramblestar stopped again, looking back. “We ought to make sure that the water isn’t rising,” he mewed.
Cautiously he crept back along the passage and scored his claws down the wall to mark the highest point of the water. Moments dragged by as he crouched there watching. After a while he realized that Lionblaze was peering over his shoulder.
“It’s not getting any worse,” the golden tabby warrior murmured.
Bramblestar nodded. “I think we can go back,” he decided. “This is the lowest part of the caves, so we should be safe where we are.”
He let Lionblaze take the lead back to where their Clanmates were waiting.
“It looks like we’ll be okay here,” Bramblestar announced. “But the big cave is flooded, so no cat is to go farther down.” He turned around to give the apprentices a hard look. “Understood?”
The young cats nodded seriously, and Bramblestar hoped that their adventures so far had taught them how dangerous water could be.
Glancing around his Clan, Bramblestar was pleased to see that they seemed more relaxed than when he had left them to explore the tunnels. They had dried off and groomed themselves. One or two were sleeping, but most of them were watching him with bright, expectant eyes.
“So this is our new camp,” he began. “We have to assume that we’ll be here for several days.”
“Then we’ll need clean, fresh bedding,” Daisy meowed. “I’ll take charge of that, if you want, Bramblestar.”
“That would be great, Daisy,” Bramblestar replied. “Pick a few cats to go with you, and see if you can salv
age any dry moss and leaves.”
“We might find some inside hollow trees.” Daisy rose to her paws and glanced around. “Rosepetal, Mousewhisker, will you come with me?”
The three cats slipped out together into the rain-drenched forest. Bramblestar realized with relief that while he had been down in the tunnels the storm had blown itself out again; only a light drizzle was falling. He noticed that Leafpool was leaving the tunnel too, hard on the paws of the other cats, without telling him where she was going. He felt a stab of annoyance, then reminded himself that medicine cats didn’t have to answer to their Clan leader.
“What about prey?” Cloudtail called. “My belly thinks my throat’s clawed out! I’ll lead a hunting patrol if you like.”
“So will I,” Bumblestripe added.
“And me,” Graystripe meowed. “Though what we’ll find out there, I don’t know.”
Several cats joined in, offering to join the patrols. Cloudtail raised his voice above the clamor. “What about the fresh-kill pile, Bramblestar? Where do you want it?”
“It’ll have to be in here,” Bramblestar meowed.
“What?” Berrynose gave a snort of disgust. “Sleeping next to fresh-kill? Yuck!”
Bramblestar suppressed an irritated hiss. “If you have a better idea, share it with the rest of us,” he mewed. “If we leave prey outside, it will get wet, or foxes will steal it.”
As the warriors divided themselves into groups, Bramblestar began padding up the tunnel to join Cloudtail’s patrol. He was stopped by Sandstorm, who blocked his path with her ginger tail.
“I think you should stay here, where your Clan can see you,” she advised him in a quiet voice. “They need to know that you’re safe and in control.”
Bramblestar knew she was right, though his tail-tip twitched in frustration to see the hunting patrols going off without him. He was distracted by Leafpool, who reappeared just as the hunters were leaving.
“Where have you been?” Bramblestar asked her sharply. Medicine cat or not, she shouldn’t be wandering about on her own in the flooded forest.
