Bramblestar's Storm

  “Only down to the top of the hollow,” Leafpool mewed. “When I looked down into the camp, I thought I could see some bundles of herbs floating in the water. Can I go fetch them?”

  Bramblestar’s first instinct was to refuse. “It’s too risky,” he began.

  “No, I’ll be fine, really,” Leafpool assured him.

  “Some cat needs to go,” Jayfeather broke in from where he sat nearby. “We’ve lost so many herbs to this flood; we need to salvage as many as we can.”

  Bramblestar could see that the medicine cats had a point. Any one of us could go down with greencough, or get injured on all the branches lying about the forest. “Okay,” he meowed to Leafpool. “But take a warrior with you. One who doesn’t mind getting wet!”

  “Thanks, Bramblestar.” Leafpool went out, beckoning Cherryfall to follow her.

  “I’ll go into the forest and see if I can find any herbs that haven’t been washed away,” Jayfeather mewed, hauling himself to his paws.

  “Not alone,” Bramblestar ordered.

  Jayfeather heaved a long sigh. “Okay, not alone. Brightheart, will you come with me?”

  When they had gone, Bramblestar looked around. Most of the cats were out on patrol now, except for Millie and Briarlight, Purdy and the apprentices, and Thornclaw, who was deep in sleep, worn out after his tough night on watch. It had to be a good idea to keep to the Clan’s daily routine as much as possible, if only to stop them from worrying.

  In spite of Sandstorm’s advice, Bramblestar was too restless to stay in the tunnel for long. He padded out and headed for the cliffs, his pelt soaked and muddy again as he tried to find a clear route through the undergrowth. By the time he reached the top of the hollow he saw that Leafpool and Cherryfall had made their way down the steep path and were swimming around in the flood, grasping at scraps of floating greenery. Their voices drifted up to him.

  “Leafpool, is this anything useful?”

  “No, it’s just an oak twig. I found some tansy, though.”

  “Yuck! That’s just slimy tree bark!”

  Bramblestar turned at the sound of paw steps and saw Sandstorm padding up to him. He tensed, expecting a scolding for leaving the tunnel, but understanding shone in the she-cat’s green eyes.

  “Firestar always found it hardest when he had to let his Clanmates do something dangerous,” she mewed. “He felt that because he had nine lives, he could spare a few!”

  “He was right.” Bramblestar felt a wave of guilt sweep over him. “I should be the one to hunt in the flooded forest, or go swimming in the hollow after herbs.”

  Sandstorm touched his ear with her nose. “You can’t do everything,” she murmured. “You have to trust your Clanmates.”

  “I know,” Bramblestar sighed, but he felt a sharp pang of envy for his warriors, who were able to act on his orders.

  He returned to the tunnel with Sandstorm to check on the cats who remained there. Briarlight was sleeping at last, with Millie drowsily licking her pelt. Purdy was asleep, too, while Dustpelt had lined up the apprentices and was testing them on their knowledge of the warrior code. Bramblestar was pleased to see him keeping the young cats occupied and out of trouble.

  Not long after, Cloudtail returned with his hunting party, dragging three rabbits with them.

  “Good job!” Bramblestar exclaimed. “I didn’t expect you to bring back as much as that.”

  “We didn’t exactly catch it,” Cloudtail admitted, dropping his rabbit near the entrance to start a new fresh-kill pile. “These rabbits drowned. The floodwater must have washed them out of their burrow.”

  “That’s crow-food!” Snowpaw spat, his lips curling back and his white pelt beginning to fluff up. “I’m not eating that.”

  “Then you can go hungry,” Dustpelt snapped, swiping the apprentice over the ear with his tail.

  “It’ll be okay,” Bramblestar meowed. “Those rabbits can’t have been dead long. We’re all hungry and we need to eat. We’ll find live prey soon.”

  But when the other hunting patrols returned, Graystripe was empty-pawed, while Bumblestripe’s cats had only managed to kill one thrush.

  The rabbits are starting to look a lot more appetizing, Bramblestar thought.

  Sandstorm and Blossomfall began to dole out the prey, while Leafpool and Cherryfall returned with the few herbs they had managed to salvage. Leafpool found a hole in the tunnel wall to act as a store. Jayfeather and Brightheart weren’t far behind, carrying yarrow and marigold.

  “It’s a start,” Jayfeather commented as he placed his herbs in the hole beside Leafpool’s. “But we’ve got no cobweb at all. I just hope no cats cut themselves.”

  “Bramblestar?” Cloudtail beckoned him aside with a wave of his tail. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Not more trouble?” Bramblestar asked, his belly starting to churn unpleasantly.

  “I’m not sure. When I was leading the patrol along the floodwater, I drank some. The water tasted very odd. Do you think it could be poisoned?”

  “Great StarClan, I hope not,” Bramblestar meowed. Had something bad been washed into the flood? “Show me where you went. I’d like to taste it for myself.”

  He followed Cloudtail as the white warrior retraced his steps to the flood. It still felt very strange to see a huge lake lapping halfway up the hillside. How are we going to survive in the middle of all this water?

  Cloudtail halted at the water’s edge. “Just here,” he meowed.

  Reminding himself that a taste of the water hadn’t killed Cloudtail, Bramblestar crouched down and lapped. Cloudtail was right: The water did taste different. But Bramblestar had encountered the sharp tang before.

  “It’s salty, like the water from the sun-drown-place,” he told Cloudtail, straightening up again and flicking drops from his whiskers.

  “How has that water reached all the way here?” Cloudtail asked, amazed. “Is the lake going to turn into a sun-drown-place?”

  “I don’t know,” Bramblestar admitted. “But I can tell you one thing. It isn’t poison. I swallowed enough of it when we traveled there and I fell in. But we still can’t drink it. The few drops I tasted have just made me more thirsty.”

  “So what are we going to drink?” Cloudtail lashed his tail. “There are no streams up here. The closest is on the WindClan border.”

  Bramblestar lapped up a few mouthfuls of rainwater from a puddle in the grass, to get the acrid tang off his tongue. Going thirsty won’t be a problem for us while it’s still raining, he thought. But how long will we have to rely on that? It could take a while for the lake to shrink again.

  Returning to the tunnel, he called to Berrynose and Poppyfrost, who were sharing part of a rabbit at the entrance. “I want to take a patrol to the WindClan border,” he meowed. “We need to find out how easy it is to get to the stream there, and whether the flood has affected it.”

  The two cats hurriedly swallowed their last mouthfuls and came to join him. Glancing at Sandstorm, Bramblestar added, “Is it okay for me to leave? Again?”

  Amusement glimmered in Sandstorm’s green eyes. “Oh, yes,” she assured him. “No cat wants an idle leader!”

  Bramblestar took the lead as the three cats trekked through the soaked forest. The rain had stopped and the wind died down, but the trees were still dripping, and the banks of fern and long grasses spilled their loads of water on the cats as they brushed past.

  As they crossed the territory, Bramblestar felt his tension rising. All the sights and scents of the forest had changed. His pads prickled with the knowledge that the edge of the lake was only a few fox-lengths below them. Apart from the sound of water lapping and drops falling from trees, the woods were silent. There were no faint scufflings to betray the presence of prey, no birdsong in the branches. Where have they all gone? Bramblestar wondered. How long will it be before they come back?

  It took a long time to make their way around the flooded parts of the territory. At last they emerged into the stretch of spa
rse young trees that led up to the WindClan border. The sound of the stream, rushing and gurgling, reached their ears as they bounded through the thin woodland to the border. Just here the water usually flowed deep beneath overhanging banks. Now it was level with the top of the gully, a brown flood sweeping twigs and leaves in the fast current.

  “Keep back, both of you,” Bramblestar warned.

  He crouched down at the edge of the water, stretching out his neck so that he could lap. He dug his claws hard into the ground, fighting the fear of being swept away like a loose twig. But the water he drank had a cold, clear taste that reminded him of the mountains.

  “Thank StarClan, it’s fine!” he meowed, rising and backing away.

  As he spoke the patter of rapid paw steps came from farther upstream, along with angry yowls and hisses. To Bramblestar’s astonishment a WindClan patrol raced into sight on the ThunderClan side of the stream.

  Weaselfur, who was in the lead, let out a furious screech. “Get away from there!”

  Bramblestar faced him, his fur bristling. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “You’re on our territory!”

  Behind him, he was aware of Berrynose and Poppyfrost sliding out their claws. The two other WindClan cats, Leaftail and Furzepelt, hurtled toward them as if they were about to leap into battle.

  But Weaselfur halted when he reached the ThunderClan cats, signaling to his patrol to do the same. “This is the only clean water we have,” he mewed, glaring at Bramblestar. “We have reset the border markers to this side of the stream. It belongs to WindClan now.”

  “Don’t be mouse-brained!” Bramblestar snapped. “Look at all that water! There’s enough for every cat.”

  But the WindClan warriors were too wound up to listen. “Stay away from that water!” Furzepelt snarled.

  Poppyfrost took a step forward. “Do you really want to fight for it?” she growled.

  At once Leaftail hurled himself at her, knocking her over and clawing at her ears. Berrynose started forward to help her, but Bramblestar flung himself between them, pushing the cream-colored warrior back with a paw on his shoulder.

  “Stop!” he growled. “Poppyfrost can cope. I don’t want an all-out battle.”

  As the two cats rolled screeching on the ground, Bramblestar turned to Weaselfur. “This is madness,” he meowed. “You can’t shift an entire border because the lake has risen.”

  “Yes, we can,” Weaselfur retorted, “and we have. If you have a problem, you’ll have to speak to Onestar. But know that ThunderClan cats will not be welcome in our territory.”

  For a moment all Bramblestar’s instincts were to leap on the WindClan warrior and claw the stubborn look off his face. We can beat these scrawny rabbit-chasers easily! But fighting here wouldn’t solve anything. Instead he stalked across to the two battling cats and hauled Poppyfrost away from Leaftail.

  “That’s enough,” he ordered. “We’re leaving.”

  Poppyfrost stood up, panting. There was a trickle of blood coming from one of her ears, and she was missing a few tufts of fur, but the scratches down Leaftail’s side showed that it had been an equal fight.

  “Is that it?” Berrynose hissed, coming to stand beside his mate. “You’re going to let them get away with this?”

  “No,” Bramblestar replied. “But I’m going to think before I do anything.”

  “Think!” Berrynose echoed, turning to Poppyfrost and giving her injured ear a lick.

  Bramblestar ignored the hostile glares from the WindClan cats as he led his patrol away from the stream. His mind was whirling.

  ThunderClan can survive without this stream while the forest is full of rainwater. But what does the flooded lake mean for the rest of the Clans? If ThunderClan and WindClan are so badly affected, have ShadowClan and RiverClan survived at all?

  CHAPTER 10

  Bramblestar returned to the tunnel to find the cats spreading out bedding for nests. He could tell at once that their optimistic mood had changed to irritation as the reality of their homelessness set in.

  “That’s not nearly enough bedding for Briarlight’s nest,” Millie complained.

  “I’m sorry, but she’ll have to make do for now,” Daisy meowed, looking flustered. “We can get more later.”

  Millie huffed with annoyance as she took away the bundle of moss and leaves.

  Daisy whirled around when she spotted Snowpaw and Dewpaw play fighting on top of the pile she was trying to distribute, scattering moss everywhere. “What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped. “If that’s how you treat the bedding, you don’t deserve to have any.”

  “It’s all wet and yucky anyway,” Snowpaw whined.

  Daisy took a deep breath, as if she was trying to hold on to her temper, then decided not to bother. “You ungrateful little furball!” she hissed. “If you’re so miserable here, feel free to go back and sleep in your den!”

  Snowpaw blinked up at her. He wasn’t used to hearing that tone from Daisy. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Purdy loomed out of the shadows with the other apprentices behind him. “Come on, young ’uns,” he rumbled. “Let’s get some moss, an’ you can show me how to make a nest. Then we’ll all bed down together.”

  “Will you tell us again how you escaped from the hollow?” Lilypaw begged.

  “I sure will!”

  “Thank StarClan for Purdy,” Daisy sighed as the elder and the apprentices disappeared down the tunnel with their share of the bedding. “He’s so good with those young cats.”

  “But he wouldn’t take any fresh-kill,” Blossomfall told Bramblestar, coming up to him with a worried look. “I did everything I could, short of shoving the rabbit down his throat, but it was no use. He told me to give it to the warriors instead.”

  “We can’t have that,” Bramblestar meowed. “Thanks for telling me, Blossomfall.”

  There were still some scraps of rabbit on the new fresh-kill pile. Picking up the biggest piece, Bramblestar padded down the tunnel until he found Purdy supervising the apprentices as they made their nests. Bramblestar dropped the rabbit at the elder’s paws. “Eat.”

  Purdy refused to meet his gaze. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Purdy, I won’t stand for any heroics,” Bramblestar insisted. “We all need to keep our strength up.”

  The old cat turned away, gazing down into the darkness. “I’m not worth the effort of hunting,” he muttered.

  “Never say that!” Bramblestar protested. “The warrior code is built on caring for our elders and kits.”

  Purdy turned back to him and met Bramblestar’s gaze. His eyes were wide and distressed. “But I never served this Clan as a young cat,” he rasped. “And now, with Mousefur gone, things aren’t the same.”

  Bramblestar took a deep breath and looked at Purdy with his head on one side. “Purdy, you’re being unfair. If you hadn’t saved us from the dog the first time we met, we might not have reached the sun-drown-place, and the Clans might never have made the Great Journey. And what do you think would have happened in the Great Battle, if you hadn’t saved Lionblaze when he was trapped with the dogs? ThunderClan owes you more than we can ever repay.”

  Purdy shrugged. “Maybe,” he meowed with a flash of his old stubbornness, “but I still think you need to worry about the cats who need worrying about.” But he did sit down, tucked in his paws, and began to eat the rabbit.

  As Bramblestar returned up the tunnel, Squirrelflight stepped up to his side. “What’s the matter? You look as if you bit into a vole and found it was crow-food.”

  She listened while Bramblestar told her about his conversation with Purdy. “Hmm . . .” she murmured when he had finished. “I think I know what the problem is. Sandstorm!” She beckoned to her mother, who was arranging her nest a tail-length away.

  “What is it?” Sandstorm asked.

  “Purdy needs company,” Squirrelflight mewed. “And I don’t just mean those pesky apprentices. I know you could run the Clan without us—and so could Purdy, for th
at matter—but could you at least pretend that you want to spend more time with him? Don’t worry, we’ll still find things for you to do.”

  Sandstorm’s green eyes glimmered. “I’ll do what I can,” she promised. “But perhaps the answer isn’t banishing more cats to the elders’ den, but getting Purdy more involved in Clan life. Why not put him in charge of bedding distribution along with Daisy?”

  “That’s a great idea!” Bramblestar meowed. He headed farther up the tunnel to where Daisy was still struggling to share out the bedding she had collected. “You look as if you could do with another set of paws,” he told her. “Why not get Purdy to help?”

  Daisy’s harassed expression brightened immediately. “Oh, I wonder if he would? I’ll go ask him right away.”

  She headed down the tunnel and Bramblestar followed a few paces behind. Purdy looked taken aback when Daisy made her request. “Well . . . I’ve got my paws full keepin’ an eye on these young ’uns,” he meowed. “But I reckon if you really need me . . .”

  “I do, Purdy!” Daisy assured him. “I’m so busy I don’t know where to start.”

  “Well, then . . . you’d better show me what to do. You young cats behave now,” he added to the apprentices, “an’ I’ll tell you the story when I come back.”

  Daisy padded back up the tunnel with Purdy at her flank, passing Bramblestar on their way to the heap of bedding. There was a proud gleam in Purdy’s eyes, and Bramblestar guessed there wouldn’t be any more fuss about taking his fair share of fresh-kill. Sandstorm, you know Purdy so well!

  Hoping for a few moments alone, Bramblestar headed out of the tunnel and sharpened his claws on a nearby ash tree. They felt all clogged up with dirt and leaves, and he experienced a fierce satisfaction in seeing them gleaming again. I wish every problem could be solved by good fighting skills and a dose of courage, he thought, remembering how much simpler it had been to rip his claws through the pelt of a Dark Forest warrior. Coping with all these different cats is more exhausting than going into battle!

  Night was beginning to fall by the time Bramblestar returned to the tunnel. His Clanmates were settling down among the sparse bedding, huddling together to share the precious moss. Before he went to his own nest, which Squirrelflight had prepared for him, Bramblestar set Cloudtail on watch at the entrance and Lionblaze farther down the tunnel beyond the last cats.