by Erin Hunter
Squirrelflight blinked in surprise, then nodded. “It might be worth a try.”
“I’ll go,” Thornclaw meowed instantly, looking up from the scrawny rabbit he was sharing with Brackenfur, Cherryfall, and Blossomfall. “Anything to stop my belly rumbling.”
“Count me in too,” Brackenfur added.
“And me,” Blossomfall mewed. “It sounds like a great idea.”
“Thanks.” Bramblestar felt proud of his Clanmates for volunteering so quickly to go into unknown and possibly dangerous territory. “I’ll come with you.”
“Bramblestar . . .” Squirrelflight gave him a nudge, and motioned with her ears for him to move out of earshot of the others. “You need to rest,” she went on when she was sure that they couldn’t be overheard. “You can’t do every patrol. I’ll go instead.”
“But you’ve already hunted today,” Bramblestar objected.
“And you did the ShadowClan border patrol.” Squirrelflight’s tail-tip was twitching, though she kept her voice low. “And yesterday you trekked all the way over to RiverClan and risked your life rescuing that kittypet.”
“So?” Bramblestar began to feel frustrated. “I’m fine. It’s not a problem.”
“It’ll be a problem for the rest of us if our Clan leader collapses from exhaustion.”
Bramblestar heaved a long sigh. “Remind me why I chose you to be my deputy,” he muttered through his teeth.
“Because I won’t let you boss me around,” Squirrelflight retorted, her green eyes flashing.
True, Bramblestar thought ruefully. “Okay,” he mewed, giving in. “I’ll just go as far as the border and make sure that things seem okay over there. Then I’ll come back.”
Squirrelflight didn’t look satisfied, but she muttered something under her breath and didn’t argue any more.
When Bramblestar had finished his share of the vole, and was waiting for the rest of his patrol to finish scraping the last shreds of flesh off the rabbit, Jayfeather came up from where he had been eating with Dustpelt and Leafpool. Bramblestar’s paws tingled when he saw the troubled expression on the face of his medicine cat.
“Is Briarlight’s whitecough worse?” he asked anxiously.
“No, thank StarClan,” Jayfeather replied. “Though it’s worrying me that Amberpaw and Sandstorm have both started coughing. But that’s not the real problem,” he went on rapidly. “Look at this.” He held up a forepaw and Bramblestar saw that blood was trickling from one of his pads.
“I’ll get Leafpool,” Bramblestar mewed immediately.
“No, it’s nothing. Only a scratch.” Jayfeather swiped his tongue over the injured pad. “The point is, I trod on a branch that hadn’t been there a moment before.”
“Is that so unusual?” Bramblestar asked.
“You know me.” Jayfeather twitched his tail. “I don’t trip over things just because I can’t see them. When did I last hurt myself?”
Bramblestar couldn’t remember. Jayfeather never needed his own healing herbs, unlike the other cats, who were always getting thorns in their paws or scratching themselves on bramble tendrils. An unpleasant suspicion occurred to Bramblestar, making the prey he had just eaten feel like a rock in his belly.
“Do you think this is a sign from StarClan?” he asked. “Some other danger we have to face?”
“I’m not sure,” Jayfeather admitted, ruffling up his pelt. “The storm has changed everything in the forest. Maybe I just made a mistake.”
Bramblestar’s ears flicked up in surprise. When does Jayfeather ever admit to being mistaken?
“In any case,” the medicine cat went on, “I think we should take careful note of everything. Tell the patrol to be extra cautious beyond the territory. They won’t know where they’re putting their paws, and this could be a warning of injury.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t hunt over there after all,” Bramblestar mused.
“Oh, come on, Bramblestar,” Thornclaw interrupted, pausing as he cleaned his whiskers. Bramblestar jumped, not realizing that the other warriors had overheard. “Jayfeather’s right to warn us, but we’ll be fine,” Thornclaw continued. “We know we’ll be on unfamiliar ground, so we’ll tread carefully.”
Reluctantly Bramblestar agreed, if only because he didn’t want to worry his Clanmates with thoughts of omens. He took the lead as the patrol climbed up to the ridge. The morning’s scent markers were still fresh and strong; a shiver crept right through his pelt from nose to tail as he stepped across them and stood in unfamiliar territory.
Though the border was less than a tail-length behind him, the forest ahead of him looked dark and threatening, full of sinister smells. Tasting the air, Bramblestar picked up traces of fox and badger. Fear swelled inside him, and for a moment he wanted to wail like a lost kit. He was tempted to change his mind and lead the patrol back to the safety of their own territory.
Then he looked at his Clanmates and saw that their fur was bristling with excitement, not fear.
“I can smell rabbits!” Thornclaw exclaimed in a hoarse whisper.
“And squirrels,” Blossomfall added. “There should be plenty of them. This is where the prey would have fled when the water started to rise.”
Bramblestar realized that he needed to have faith in his warriors’ skills. They were strong and experienced, fully capable of dealing with any danger they were likely to meet. Squirrelflight was right, he thought. I can’t do everything.
“What about those hazel bushes over there?” Brackenfur meowed, pointing with his tail. “I’ll bet a moon of dawn patrols there’s something lurking in there.”
“And in that bramble thicket,” Cherryfall mewed. “Mice and shrews love hiding in that kind of dense brush.”
“Okay.” Thornclaw took charge. “Spread out in a line, but let’s not lose sight of one another. If you scent prey, signal with your tail. The wind’s blowing toward us, so that should help.”
Bramblestar watched his Clanmates bound into the trees. Almost at once Cherryfall waved her tail wildly. “Squirrel!” she called. “Over here!”
The rest of the patrol headed toward her, falling into the familiar hunting pattern of surrounding the tree where she had scented prey. Bramblestar’s paws felt heavy as he turned away and began padding down to the tunnel. He would much rather have stayed and joined the hunt.
When he returned to the temporary camp, he found Millie outside with Briarlight, helping the injured cat with her exercises. Briarlight couldn’t clear her chest; she seemed to be coughing every heartbeat, and nothing Millie did was helping. Minty was standing close by, her fur bristling while her horrified gaze was fixed on Briarlight.
The last thing Briarlight needs is to have a stranger staring at her, Bramblestar thought, his whiskers twitching with annoyance. Glancing around, he spotted Daisy a couple of tail-lengths away, spreading out some of the bedding yet again in a futile attempt to dry it out. He beckoned her over with his tail.
“Is there something I can do?” Daisy asked as she padded up.
Bramblestar angled his ears toward Minty. “I’d like you to show her the forest,” he meowed. “Don’t scare her, but give her an idea of where the territory lies, where she should avoid, that kind of thing.”
“Sure, Bramblestar,” Daisy responded cheerfully. “We can look for extra bedding on the way. Minty might be happier if she has a job to do.”
“Amberpaw and I will come, too,” Spiderleg meowed, strolling up from where he had been helping his apprentice to practice her hunter’s crouch.
Amberpaw coughed as she followed him, and Daisy turned to her with a look of concern. “Are you sure you’re fit enough?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s only a tickle. I—” Amberpaw broke off as another fit of coughing seized her. “I don’t want to be stuck in that horrible tunnel. Besides, I think Minty trusts me.” She bounded over to the kittypet and gave her a friendly nudge. “Come on, we’re going to show you the forest,” she urged. “It’ll be fun.”
M
inty blinked at her. “What if there are foxes or badgers?”
“There aren’t,” Amberpaw replied robustly. “We cleared them all out of our territory. They know better than to come back.”
“Well . . . okay.” Minty got up and followed Amberpaw back to the two warriors.
Bramblestar noticed that she managed to trip over a half-buried stone and a stray twig before she even reached them. Good luck with taking her anywhere, he thought. Maybe that’s what Jayfeather’s omen meant.
“Keep a close eye on her,” he murmured to Daisy. “She may be mouse-brained, but I don’t want her hurt.”
“Don’t worry,” Daisy reassured him. “I’ll treat her like a kit, the first day out of the nursery.”
“I’ll help, too.” Sandstorm padded up from where she had been grooming her fur in the shelter of a bush. With an amused glance at Bramblestar, she added quietly, “Spiderleg was very quick to offer to go too. I wonder if he wants to get back together with Daisy.” A cough ended her words.
Bramblestar doubted that the two cats would ever be mates again, and he was more worried about Sandstorm. “I don’t think you should be trekking through the forest with that cough,” he meowed. “It’s important to stay dry and warm.”
Sandstorm’s look of amusement deepened. “And how do you suggest I do that?” she asked teasingly. “I’ve only got a choice of wet bedding or hard stone to sleep on.”
Daisy’s patrol turned to leave, but before they had gone a couple of paw steps, the sound of scuffling broke out in the undergrowth above the tunnel entrance.
Minty let out a scared squeal. “Foxes!”
Before any cat could react, Snowpaw and Dewpaw rolled into the open, their legs fastened around each other as they wrestled. Whitewing and Ivypool scrambled out of the bracken behind them.
“Careful!” Whitewing called. “Watch where you’re going!”
“Keep away from the edge, or you’ll fall,” Whitewing added.
The two apprentices broke apart, shaking their pelts, then suddenly froze. “I’m slipping!” Snowpaw cried in a shrill caterwaul, his paws paddling in the soil above the tunnel as if it were water.
“Mudslide!” Ivypool screeched.
For a heartbeat Bramblestar’s paws were rooted to the ground as he watched a chunk of earth above the tunnel entrance begin to give way, carrying the four cats with it. Then he pulled himself together. “Out of the way!” he yowled.
Before the words were out he flung himself across to where Briarlight was lying. With Millie’s help he heaved her onto his back, crumbling earth falling all around them, then raced toward the trees. Cats shot away from the entrance, wailing in panic, as the soil roared down, fierce as another storm.
As the sound died away Bramblestar halted and turned around, letting Briarlight slide down from his back. A mound of earth covered the entrance to the tunnel. At first he couldn’t see any of the four cats who had been caught in the slide, and his pelt prickled with the memory of the tunnel collapse that had buried Hollyleaf, so many moons ago.
Then Ivypool popped her head out of the heap, spitting earth and floundering through the loose soil as she dragged herself clear. Snowpaw reappeared a moment later, burrowing his way out. The soil at the top of the mound heaved and fell away to reveal Whitewing; she was helping Dewpaw, who seemed dazed, hardly moving at all.
Dustpelt, Cloudtail, and Brightheart dashed up to the heap of earth and helped the four cats to struggle free. Bramblestar followed hard on their paws. To his relief, none of them seemed seriously hurt. Even Dewpaw, who looked a little unsteady when he stood on solid ground again, soon recovered and began shaking himself furiously to get the soil out of his pelt.
“Ugh! I’ll never be clean again!” Ivypool spat. She had shaken off the loose soil, but her fur was still plastered with mud, and her claws were clogged with it.
“Let’s thank StarClan it was no worse,” Whitewing meowed.
Bramblestar looked at the pile of earth. At first he thought that it was blocking the tunnel, and that cats would have to burrow to release their Clanmates trapped inside. But then he realized that there was a narrow gap beside the mound of soil, just wide enough to let cats in and out of the tunnel.
“Are you all okay in there?” he called.
Purdy squeezed his way out and looked around with a disgusted expression. “What next?” he grunted. “Haven’t we got enough trouble, without the forest throwin’ earth at us?”
Bramblestar guessed that the rain must have loosened the ground above the tunnel, and the weight of four cats on top of it had been enough to bring it down. “No cat is to go up there again,” he ordered. “Not until everything has had a chance to dry out.”
“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Whitewing muttered. “I thought I was on my way to StarClan when the ground started disappearing under my paws.”
The rest of the Clan gathered around, surveying the mess with wide, wary eyes. Minty looked terrified; Daisy had curled her tail around the kittypet’s shoulders, and was mewing something to her in a low voice. Briarlight was managing to drag herself back, with Millie at her side as always.
Dustpelt padded up to Bramblestar and gave the earth mound an experimental prod with one paw. “You know,” he meowed, “maybe we shouldn’t clear this away. When the wind’s in the wrong direction it whistles straight down the tunnel and freezes our fur off, and this would make a good windbreak.”
“But won’t the wind scatter it?” Bramblestar asked.
“Not if we find something to shore it up with,” Dustpelt told him.
Bramblestar nodded to the older warrior. “I’ll put you in charge of it, then,” he mewed. “See what you can do.”
As Dustpelt studied the heap, Bramblestar glanced around again. The panic was over by now and the cats were chatting excitedly about what had happened. He could sense that they were dizzy with relief, that what had seemed to be a dreadful accident had turned out to be not too bad after all.
Bramblestar spotted Dewpaw scooping up a pawful of mud and throwing it at Snowpaw, who ducked to dodge it before scraping up some mud of his own.
“That’s enough of that!” Ivypool scolded.
“We can’t get any dirtier than we already are,” Dewpaw pointed out with a cheeky glint in his eye.
Ivypool sighed. “Apprentices!”
Meanwhile Poppyfrost, Dovewing, and Bumblestripe were helping Leafpool and Jayfeather to check every cat who had been close to the mudslide for possible injuries. But even the cats who had fallen were unhurt.
If this is what Jayfeather’s omen foretold, Bramblestar thought, then we’ve had a lucky escape.
“We want to take Whitewing, Ivypool, and the apprentices to the WindClan stream to get a wash,” Dovewing reported, padding up to Bramblestar.
Bramblestar flicked his ears back uneasily. “Is that a good idea after all that trouble with WindClan?” he asked. “Can’t they wash in the lake?”
“No, the lake water has that awful tang of salt,” Whitewing meowed, picking her way over the muddy ground to join Dovewing. “We’d never get it out of our fur.”
“Okay, then,” Bramblestar decided. “But if you do meet a WindClan patrol, don’t get into a fight about the water. We have enough problems without that.”
“We won’t,” Dovewing promised. Waving her tail to beckon the apprentices, she led the way across the hill in the direction of the WindClan border.
“What do we need to do?” Squirrelflight asked, padding around the mudpile with a disgusted look on her face. “Don’t tell me we have to shift all this.”
“No, Dustpelt thinks we can shore it up and use it as a windbreak,” Bramblestar replied. “There’s still room to get in and out.”
Dustpelt struggled up at that moment, dragging a branch. “We need more of these,” he panted. “And stones, as big as you can manage. If we pack them in at the bottom of the pile, they’ll stop it from spreading.”
“Right,” Squirrelflight mewed. “I�
�ll find some other cats to help.” She bounded off.
As Bramblestar helped Dustpelt to shove the branch into position, he heard Lilypaw’s voice coming from behind him.
“We’re supposed to be having hunting practice. But I can’t find Poppyfrost and Bumblestripe anywhere.”
“Nor can I,” Seedpaw added.
Bramblestar glanced over his shoulder. “They’ve gone to the WindClan stream,” he told the apprentices. “They’ll be back soon.”
Lilypaw and Seedpaw looked disappointed.
“Can we help you instead?” Seedpaw asked. “What are you doing? What do you need?”
The two apprentices crowded up, sniffing curiously at the branch that Dustpelt was still pushing into place.
“We’ll get more!” Lilypaw announced, but as she turned she skidded in the mud and Seedpaw tripped over her.
“For StarClan’s sake!” Dustpelt snapped. “A cat can’t move around here for nuisancy apprentices!”
“But we want to do something useful!” Seedpaw protested, scrambling to her paws.
“Then go and do it someplace else,” Dustpelt muttered. “I’m sure you can think of something.”
“Find a warrior to take you hunting,” Bramblestar suggested, but the two apprentices were already scampering away. I hope they don’t get into trouble, he thought.
He was about to follow them when he was distracted by Leafpool, who came limping up to him, wincing at every paw step.
“What’s the matter?” Bramblestar meowed. “Did you wrench your paw when the earth fell?”
Leafpool shook her head. “No, it’s that wretched piece of wood again, the one that caught Jayfeather earlier,” she complained. “I was sure we’d moved it out of the way, but it must have rolled back.”
“You’re not badly hurt?”
“No, just annoyed,” Leafpool replied. “That stick is more trouble than the mudfall!”
A stick? Bramblestar thought suddenly. A stick causing trouble? Where have I heard of a stick recently? Then he remembered. Jayfeather’s Stick of the Fallen! The apprentices spotted it this morning, wedged in the branches of that oak tree. What if they’ve gone back to fetch it?
