Bramblestar's Storm

by Erin Hunter

  Bramblestar watched, blinking in surprise. I never thought Minty would end up being so popular. These kittypets have done more than adjust to our life in the Clan; they have become true Clanmates.

  The trees were outlined against a pale dawn sky as Bramblestar emerged from the tunnel and gathered a patrol to take Minty home. He chose Millie, who had always been especially kind to the little kittypet, and Dovewing, who had been part of the patrol that had rescued her from her flooded Twoleg nest.

  “Stormpaw, do you want to come?” he asked.

  Stormpaw shook his head. “No, thanks, Bramblestar. I don’t want my old housefolk to see me. It’s better if they think that Benny and I found a new home together,” he finished sadly.

  Cherryfall padded up to him and rested her ginger tail on his shoulder. “It’s okay to be sad. If you ever want to talk about your brother, I’m always here.”

  Stormpaw bent his head toward hers, and Bramblestar caught Squirrelflight’s eye across the backs of the two young cats. His deputy looked amused and pleased. Perhaps there was more behind Stormpaw’s decision to stay than respect for the life of a warrior?

  Bramblestar took the lead as his patrol headed down the slope. The water level was still much higher than the original shoreline, but they could make out the familiar shape of the lake. The border stream had shrunk back between its banks, so that they easily found a place where it was narrow enough for even Minty to leap across.

  “I hope we don’t get into trouble with ShadowClan,” Minty mewed nervously as her paws struck the ground on the ShadowClan side.

  “So do I,” Millie agreed, landing next to her. “Rowanstar could still be angry that we joined in the battle with the badgers.”

  “There won’t be any trouble,” Bramblestar stated firmly. “We’re within three fox-lengths of the water, so we’re not trespassing.”

  Sure enough, before they were halfway across the territory, a ShadowClan patrol came into view, picking their way through pine trees farther up the slope. Tigerheart was in the lead, with Stoatfur and Pinenose just behind him. When Tigerheart spotted Bramblestar and the others he veered toward them, loping briskly down until he met the ThunderClan patrol at the water’s edge. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  The other two ShadowClan warriors gave the ThunderClan cats a cold stare, without even a dip of the head as greeting. Bramblestar could still see their scars from the battle against the badgers.

  “We’re taking Minty home,” Bramblestar explained.

  “Minty? Oh, yes, the kittypet.” Tigerheart’s glance raked across the patrol, coming to rest for a heartbeat on Dovewing. The gray she-cat was staring out across the lake as if it was more interesting than anything she had ever seen before.

  There’s something going on there, Bramblestar thought. I wish I knew what it was. I know they went on the journey together to find the beavers, but that was seasons and seasons ago.

  “Well, I suppose you can pass,” Tigerheart meowed, giving Bramblestar a condescending nod. “But don’t even think about putting a paw inside our territory.”

  “We won’t,” Bramblestar responded, doing his best to hide his irritation.

  “See you stick to that.” Tigerheart stood aside with a wave of his tail, leaving the path clear around the water’s edge. “Because ShadowClan will be watching.”

  Bramblestar set off again. As he padded along the shoreline at the head of his patrol he could still feel the gaze of the ShadowClan cats boring into his back. By now the sun was rising above the trees, its pale rays turning the lake water to glittering silver. Around the Thunderpath and the half bridge, the flood was only belly-deep. Bramblestar was reminded of the hidden tree trunk that had saved him and Jessy from the old badger. I hope I never have to do that again!

  He and his cats splashed through the water and headed up alongside the Twoleg dens. As they drew closer to her home, Minty picked up her pace and took the lead.

  “The Twoleg dens are still empty and damaged with mud, just like the hollow,” Millie remarked to Bramblestar. “But I expect the Twolegs will repair them, just like we’re doing.”

  The doors of some of the dens stood open, with a few Twolegs hauling their stuff outside to dry in the sun. Bramblestar, Millie, and Dovewing instinctively ducked behind a hedge as a pair of them emerged close by, but Minty let out a joyful little trill and raced forward.

  “I’m back! It’s me!” she yowled. “I survived!”

  The Twolegs stared at her, their jaws gaping, and let out sharp cries of surprise at the sight of the little black-and-white cat charging toward them. Minty took a flying leap into the forepaws of the nearest Twoleg, who held her close and pressed its face into her fur. For a moment it looked almost like a mother cat curling around the body of her kit.

  They’re really glad to see her, Bramblestar thought. Just listen to them purring! I never thought Twolegs could feel that way.

  Minty looked up into her Twoleg’s face. “I lived with wild cats!” she squealed. “I caught mice! And Purdy told me lots of stories, and I helped fix the nursery, and thrush tastes really good when you get past the feathers, and . . .”

  Bramblestar exchanged an amused glance with Dovewing. “I don’t suppose they have any idea what she’s meowing about,” he murmured. “Still, she’s happy, and that’s all that matters.”

  Beside him, Millie looked thoughtful as she watched the reunion.

  “Are you thinking about your own Twolegs?” Dovewing asked her. “You must miss them very much.”

  Millie nodded. “I did, but not so much now,” she mewed. “Sometimes I dream of them. I wonder if they dream of me.” Then she turned away, giving her pelt a shake. “Come on, Minty is home now. Let’s go back to ours.”

  There was no sign of ShadowClan cats as they padded back across the territory on their way home. By the time they reached the camp, the sun was beginning to dip down behind the tops of the trees. All the cats in the patrol were tired and wet through as far as their belly fur, their legs and paws caked with mud.

  Squirrelflight and Stormpaw were sitting together outside the tunnel. “The warrior code says that the Clan must be fed first,” Squirrelflight was explaining. “The elders and the nursing queens eat before any other cat. We take care of those who can’t hunt for themselves.”

  Stormpaw nodded. “That makes sense.”

  Watching Squirrelflight teaching her apprentice, Bramblestar felt something warm well up inside him. She’s the best deputy a leader could hope for—and more than that . . .

  He was distracted as the other cats in the clearing noticed their return and pressed around them.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Did Minty find her Twolegs?”

  “Was there any trouble with ShadowClan?”

  Mousewhisker pushed his way to the front of the crowd, a bundle of dry bracken in his jaws. “Here,” he meowed. “Clean yourselves up with this. Honestly, I think if I see any more mud, I’ll turn into a heap of earth!”

  While Bramblestar was scraping the worst of the mud onto the bracken fronds, he realized that Jessy had slipped through the other cats to his side.

  “Would you like to go for a walk while it’s still light?” she offered.

  Bramblestar nodded, though his belly began to churn with apprehension as they left the camp side by side. He knew that he couldn’t put off questions about their future any longer.

  They headed for the ridge, trotting silently over the soft, new grass. Shadows were gathering under the trees, and a light breeze swept down from the heights, stirring the cats’ fur. When they reached the summit, they found a flat-topped rock where they could sit side by side, their pelts barely touching, and watch the sun go down in a blazing scarlet sky.

  “I remember going this way to fight Victor and his friends,” Jessy meowed. “We certainly taught them a lesson! And the battle against the badgers—that was so scary! But worth every moment of danger, because we helped ShadowClan and protect
ed our own hunting grounds.” She paused and looked at him, her amber eyes reflecting the orange sky. “Bramblestar, I’ll never regret a moment of the time I spent with your Clan.”

  Bramblestar swallowed. “That sounds as if you’re leaving.”

  Jessy rose to her paws. Her gaze was full of sadness. “I think you know I have to. If I stay, you—you might not follow where your heart truly lies.”

  For a moment Bramblestar was silent. Did she really know him so well, this brave, bold, sparkling kittypet? He had never meant to hurt her, not for a single heartbeat. “I’m sorry. I really am.” He stood beside her, twining his tail with hers. Jessy leaned into him and they rested their heads together.

  “I could have loved you,” Bramblestar meowed.

  “I know,” Jessy murmured. “But you already love Squirrelflight. As you should. She is the mother of your kits.”

  Bramblestar opened his jaws to interrupt, but Jessy silenced him with a flick of her tail. “I know they weren’t born to you,” she went on. “But you are their father, just as Squirrelflight is their mother. That is not a bond that’s easily broken. Not even washed away in a storm!”

  “Will you go home to your housefolk?”

  “I don’t know,” Jessy admitted. “They might not come back. Our den was very badly damaged. But I’ll go that way first, and then see where my paws lead me.” She raised her head, her eyes suddenly brighter. “Living with ThunderClan has given me a taste for adventure, and the life of a kittypet might be too tame for me!”

  “You would have made a great warrior,” Bramblestar told her.

  “Oh, I know I would,” Jessy assured him with a gleam in her eyes.

  “I’ll never forget you,” Bramblestar mewed.

  “Nor I you.”

  Bramblestar pressed himself closer against Jessy’s side, breathing in her scent for the last time. I wish things could have been different, he thought. It’s hard to believe I’ll never see her again.

  Looking over Jessy’s head, he saw the lake turned scarlet by the setting sun. He remembered his vision of Yellowfang, the blood rising to meet her paws, and realized that blood ran deeper than anything else.

  Jessy is right. Whatever I have felt for her, whatever might have been, Squirrelflight and I share a bond that cannot be broken.

  CHAPTER 35

  Bramblestar woke to find his Clanmates already heading outside. Two sunrises had passed since Jessy and Minty left, and the tunnel seemed oddly empty without them. He sat up, gave one ear a thorough scratch, and followed the others into the clearing outside the tunnel.

  The rest of the cats were crowding around Squirrelflight as she sorted out the early patrols. “Cloudtail,” she meowed, “I want you to lead the WindClan border patrol. Take Lilyheart with you, and . . . yes, Ivypool and Snowpaw. And can you take Stormpaw, too? It’s time he learned what happens on a border patrol, and I have other things to do this morning.”

  Cloudtail dipped his head. “No problem.”

  Ivypool beckoned Stormpaw over with a twitch of her ears. “You can set the scent marks.”

  Stormpaw looked alarmed. “I don’t know how to do that!”

  “Don’t worry.” Lilyheart brushed her tail over his shoulder. “We’ll show you what to do.”

  “We’ll all help.” Snowpaw looked delighted to be on patrol with an apprentice who knew less than he did. “It’s easy!”

  Bramblestar noticed Graystripe and Sandstorm standing to one side, looking a little sad as the patrols formed up and moved off. He could guess how hard it must be for them to adjust to their new life as elders. But Sandstorm was already looking plumper now that she had the chance to rest, and Bramblestar hadn’t heard her coughing for the last day or two. Now she and Graystripe settled themselves in a patch of sunlight where Purdy was already dozing, and began sharing tongues.

  When the last of the patrols had left, Squirrelflight padded over to Bramblestar. She hadn’t mentioned Jessy at all, except to say that she would be missed, on the morning after the brown she-cat had left.

  “It’s the night of the full moon,” Squirrelflight meowed, sitting beside Bramblestar and wrapping her tail around her paws. “Every cat is excited at the thought of going to the Gathering. Do you think the water is low enough?”

  Bramblestar nodded. “The lake is almost back to its normal level. The island will be muddy, but it should be dry enough for us to meet.”

  “Good!” Squirrelflight purred. “Who should we take with us?”

  Bramblestar blinked. “Sandstorm and Graystripe will have to come. And Lilyheart and Stormpaw. I’ll be mentioning them in my report. And either Jayfeather or Leafpool: We can let Jayfeather decide which.”

  “Jayfeather will decide, whether we let him or not,” Squirrelflight commented, with a glint of amusement in her green eyes.

  “True. What about Cherryfall and Molewhisker?” Bramblestar suggested. “They’ve worked so hard on rebuilding the camp; they deserve to come.”

  “Good idea,” Squirrelflight agreed. “Brackenfur too, then.”

  “Right. And there should be a few more. . . . Give me some time to think about it. Oh, and could you tell Stormpaw what happens at a Gathering? He’ll enjoy it more if he knows what to expect.”

  “The other Clans will know he used to be a kittypet,” Squirrelflight pointed out.

  “Yes,” Bramblestar responded. “But he’s not anymore.”

  Squirrelflight’s eyes gleamed. “I’ll go let Sandstorm and Graystripe know about the Gathering,” she meowed, rising to her paws.

  “Squirrelflight . . .” Bramblestar called as she turned away.

  His deputy swung around, an inquiring look in her eyes. “Yes?”

  “I just wanted to say . . .” Bramblestar struggled to find the right words. “I wanted to thank you for everything. For supporting me over the badger battle. For welcoming the kittypets I brought back. For—for raising three wonderful cats that I’m so proud of.”

  Squirrelflight stepped closer and her scent swept over him. “We did it together.”

  “Maybe,” Bramblestar murmured. “I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with any other cat.”

  Moving as one they stretched their necks forward; for a heartbeat their noses touched, and their muzzles brushed together. Then Squirrelflight stepped backward, looking ruffled. “I must tell the others about the Gathering.”

  “Okay.” Bramblestar blinked at her affectionately and flicked her shoulder with his tail. “I’ll see you later.”

  The moon was floating in a clear indigo sky when Bramblestar led his cats down toward the lake. In spite of the good omen, his belly was churning. He was dreading what Rowanstar might say about the battle with the badgers.

  He’s sure to mention it, to warn the other Clans that ThunderClan is interfering once again.

  Squirrelflight, who had been padding along beside Jayfeather, quickened her pace until she reached Bramblestar’s side. “I know what you’re thinking,” she meowed. “You’re worrying about Rowanstar. Ignore him,” she added with a sniff. “He couldn’t have fought that battle without us. He might learn to be grateful eventually, even if he is a ShadowClan cat.”

  Excitement was bubbling up inside the ThunderClan cats as they headed for the lakeshore, and they darted back and forth with their tails bushed up when they saw the debris that the flood had left behind it. The pebbles had been completely covered by branches and all kinds of things that didn’t belong.

  “Look at all the rubbish that’s been washed up!” Amberpaw exclaimed. “There’s Twoleg stuff in there, too!”

  “Yes, Amberpaw, we can all see it,” Spiderleg snapped. “So leave it alone!”

  “And dead fish,” Lilyheart added. “Yuck!”

  But as they crossed WindClan territory and drew closer to the island, every cat grew quieter. Two moons had passed since the last Gathering, a long time in the life of the Clans, and so much had happened since their last visit to the island. Bramblestar guessed that all his w
arriors were a bit daunted at the thought of meeting the other Clans again.

  “I wonder how many cats didn’t survive the storm and the flood?” Sandstorm murmured to Graystripe.

  “I don’t know.” Graystripe shook his head sadly. “And what about RiverClan? They had to move so far away. Will they even be here tonight?”

  To Bramblestar’s relief, the tree-bridge was clear of the water, though the waves lapped against it, sucking greedily in the darkness. I don’t want a repeat of walking on that sunken tree trunk! A pang shook him as he thought about Jessy. I hope she’s safe, wherever she is.

  The ThunderClan cats bristled as they crossed the bridge with the water gurgling close beneath their paws. Stormpaw in particular looked terrified, though he kept moving across the slippery, mud-smeared trunk. Squirrelflight gave him a word of praise as he jumped down at the other end.

  While Bramblestar was waiting for his turn to cross, Onestar and the WindClan cats came up behind him. Onestar greeted him with a frosty nod, but did not speak. Bramblestar felt his pelt tingling. He was glad when he could cross the tree-bridge and head through the bushes to the clearing in the center of the island. Relief flooded over him as he emerged from the bushes and saw Mistystar already there with her RiverClan cats near the foot of the Great Oak. Her gray-blue fur shimmered in the moonlight and her eyes lit up with welcome when she saw Bramblestar.

  “How are you?” he called, trotting over to her. “Have you managed to come home?”

  “There’s been a lot of damage to our camp,” Mistystar mewed. “But we’re working to rebuild it, and some of our warriors are already staying there overnight.” She paused, then added sadly, “We lost Pebblefoot and Grasspelt in the storm, but the rest of our cats are well.”

  Bramblestar brushed his tail along her side. “I know how it feels to lose cats,” he mewed. “We lost an apprentice, Seedpaw.”

  As the moon rose higher, the RiverClan and ThunderClan cats mingled together, exchanging news, but Onestar kept the WindClan cats aloof, clustered tightly together at one side of the clearing.