Bramblestar's Storm

  “There must be a way to get him out of there,” Bramblestar mewed, pawing at the gap.

  “What would you know about it, flea-pelt?” the kittypet hissed.

  Bramblestar felt his shoulder fur begin to bristle and consciously forced it to lie flat again. She’s asking for a clawed ear!

  “I’ve seen stuff like this before,” he replied, remembering the way that he and the others had got into the Twoleg den from the ledge while they were rescuing Minty. Experimentally he pressed his forepaws against the top of the transparent barrier, and let out a grunt of satisfaction as it swung inward, opening a narrow gap at the bottom.

  But the space wasn’t wide enough for the tabby tom to get out.

  “Press harder,” the she-cat ordered, adding her weight to Bramblestar’s. “Frankie, you push from the bottom.”

  With all three cats heaving, the gap opened up and the tabby tom, Frankie, was able to squeeze out. His pelt was bristling and his eyes glared with a mixture of fury and terror. His pelt was soaked up to his belly fur, and when Bramblestar peered down into the den he could see floodwater sloshing about just below the opening.

  “Thanks!” Frankie gasped. “I thought I was going to drown!”

  The brown she-cat’s gaze raked over Bramblestar, her hostility fading, though she still remained wary. “Yeah, thanks.” Her tone was grudging. “My name’s Jessy, and this is Frankie.”

  “I’m Bramblestar.” He eyed Jessy, intrigued by her independence and spirit. “You’re pretty brave, for a kittypet.”

  “Really?” Jessy’s tail lashed. “Well, you keep a pretty civil tongue in your head, for a wild cat.”

  Bramblestar was looking for a retort when he heard paw steps approaching from behind and turned to see the rest of his patrol running down the slope.

  Lionblaze halted a couple of tail-lengths away, his eyes wide with shock. “Great StarClan!” he exclaimed. “More kittypets!”

  CHAPTER 15

  Bramblestar surveyed the kittypets more closely. Jessy looked in fairly good shape, but Frankie’s fur was wet and clumped, his ribs were showing, and he was shivering.

  “Jessy, have you seen Benny?” the tabby asked urgently. “I saw him get washed away when the water came. I couldn’t reach him!”

  Jessy shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

  Frankie spun around to face Bramblestar and the rest of the patrol, his eyes wide and distraught. “Have you seen him?” he demanded. “He’s my brother—he’s tabby like me, but darker.”

  “No, sorry,” Bramblestar replied. “Look,” he added, reluctant to offer more help to kittypets, but aware that he couldn’t just leave them, “why don’t you come back to our camp? There’s food there, and—”

  “No!” Frankie exclaimed, backing away with his ears flattened. “I have to stay here, in case Benny comes back.”

  Bramblestar exchanged glances with his patrol. They were all looking uncomfortable and impatient. “We can’t hang around here,” he meowed to Jessy. “But we’d like to help. Can you persuade Frankie to come with us? He looks ill, and there are cats in our camp who can help him.”

  Jessy gave him a thoughtful nod and padded up to Frankie. “Are you flea-brained?” she snapped. “These cats just saved your life. The least you can do is come with them, so you can get better.”

  Bramblestar repressed a purr of amusement. It hasn’t taken Jessy long to start trusting us!

  Frankie’s shoulders sagged. “Okay,” he mewed in a small voice.

  Jessy stayed close beside him as Bramblestar led the way back to where he had left the tub and the pelt. “What are you doing?” she exclaimed, giving the Twoleg stuff a sniff. “You stole this tub and blanket from the Twolegs? I have to say, wild cat, I like your style!”

  “Whatever,” Bramblestar muttered, feeling embarrassed.

  Lionblaze and Cinderheart pushed the tub along in the shallow water while the rest of the patrol padded beside them, dry-pawed. Jessy stayed close to Frankie, quietly encouraging him when his paw steps faltered.

  Eventually the cats reached the end of the bank and the stretch of water that extended from the lake. Bramblestar gazed at it in dismay. A strong current flowed into the lake, but water was surging from the other direction too, and where the two currents met the floodwater tossed about in choppy waves.

  “It’s too dangerous to swim across here,” Cinderheart warned.

  “Why don’t we see if we can get closer to the lake?” Poppyfrost suggested. “The water’s quieter there, where we crossed before.”

  Bramblestar nodded. “Good idea.”

  But as they began hauling the tub along the edge of the turbulent water, Cinderheart stopped with her ears pricked. “Wait—listen! What’s that?”

  Every cat halted. Bramblestar heard a faint buzzing noise. “It sounds like a monster,” he murmured. “But there haven’t been any monsters around here since the water rose.”

  “Only the drowned ones,” Lionblaze agreed.

  A few more moments passed, and Bramblestar was about to give the order to move on, when Cinderheart exclaimed, “There it is!”

  Following where her tail was pointing, Bramblestar spotted a water monster with two Twolegs standing on its back as it swam back and forth across the flooded Thunderpath. They seemed to be looking into each of the Twoleg dens.

  “That settles it,” he hissed. “We can’t go that way. We can’t let them see us.”

  Wearily they retraced their steps to where the two currents met. “We’ll have to cross here,” Bramblestar announced.

  His Clanmates exchanged glances; Bramblestar could see them bracing themselves for the ordeal ahead. Jessy’s tail-tip was twitching apprehensively, but she didn’t protest.

  Frankie, however, had flattened himself close to the ground, trembling, his eyes glazed with terror. “I can’t. . . .” he moaned. “I saw Benny get swept away. I know I’ll drown!”

  “I’ll help you,” Jessy began, but the tabby tom only moaned more loudly and began backing away from the water’s edge.

  Jessy turned to Bramblestar, letting out a soft hiss of frustration through her teeth. “We can’t leave him here,” she mewed. “What if we put him into the tub with the blanket?”

  Bramblestar thought the idea sounded crazy, but there was no alternative. They couldn’t hang around much longer on this side of the water, in case the Twolegs saw them. “We’ll give it a try,” he agreed.

  Jessy went up to Frankie and nudged him. “Come on, Frankie. We’re going to give you a ride.” She explained her suggestion to the terrified tom. “You’ll die if you stay here,” she finished dramatically.

  Dumb with fear, Frankie allowed Jessy to shove him over to the tub. He climbed in on top of the pelt, digging his claws hard into the folds. Bramblestar and Lionblaze pushed the tub onto the turbulent water and waded in after it. The force of the current nearly knocked Bramblestar off his paws, and he drew in his breath in a gasp of terror. There’s no turning back now.

  The other cats followed as they began to swim. All Bramblestar could see was the tub, the swirling water, and Lionblaze’s drenched golden head beside him.

  Then Cinderheart appeared a tail-length away. “Steer over this way,” she panted. “It’s not far now.”

  As Bramblestar tried to turn, a wave slapped against the side of the tub. It lurched over, and Frankie let out a terrified screech as water slopped inside it. Lionblaze managed to give the tub a shove, righting it and sending it on its new course. At the same moment Poppyfrost’s head appeared among the waves, bobbing up and down as she swam right into the path of the tub.

  “Poppyfrost, look out!” Bramblestar yowled.

  The tortoiseshell she-cat, focused on struggling through the waves, hadn’t seen that the tub had changed course. She turned at Bramblestar’s yowl and her eyes widened in terror as she saw the tub bearing down on her. She thrashed her legs faster, and Bramblestar tried to thrust the tub aside, but it was too late. The side of i
t knocked into Poppyfrost, driving her under the surface of the water.

  Bramblestar took a gulp of air and dived down, dark thoughts of Seedpaw’s death flickering through his mind. Would he even find his Clanmate in this swollen river? He wanted to let out a screech of joy when he bumped into Poppyfrost’s body. He grabbed her and hauled her back to the surface.

  Poppyfrost was still conscious, writhing and coughing up water. “Thanks, Bramblestar,” she gasped after a few moments. “I’m okay. I can swim.”

  Bramblestar was reluctant to let her go, but just then he caught sight of Cinderheart paddling up to them.

  “I’ll swim beside her,” the gray she-cat mewed. “I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

  Bramblestar swam back to the tub, which was riding lower in the water. Frankie was peering over the edge, letting out terrified whimpers. Bramblestar joined Lionblaze in pushing, and spotted Jessy still swimming strongly a fox-length away.

  “We’re nearly there!” the brown kittypet called.

  At last Bramblestar felt the tub scrape against solid ground, and realized that he could lower his paws and stand. He and Lionblaze dragged the tub to the very edge of the water so that Frankie could crawl out. The tabby tom looked stunned, as if he didn’t know where he was or what was happening anymore.

  Looking down into the tub, Bramblestar saw that the pelt was soaked through with the water that had splashed in during the crossing. I’ve risked all our lives for a wet pelt and two homeless kittypets, he thought with mingled disgust and guilt.

  He took the lead as the patrol headed back through ShadowClan territory, still pushing the tub containing the pelt along at the edge of the floodwater. They figured it was easy to keep the pelt where it was, to keep it from getting even muddier.

  Suddenly Poppyfrost, who was bringing up the rear, called out, “I can smell ShadowClan!”

  Bramblestar stopped and tasted the air. The scent was strong and fresh, and getting stronger, telling him that several ShadowClan cats were approaching. Swiftly he shoved the tub into the shelter of a bramble thicket.

  “Climb trees!” he ordered in a low voice.

  Cinderheart and Poppyfrost obeyed instantly, streaking up the trunk of the nearest pine tree and peering down from its branches.

  Lionblaze hesitated. “You think they’ll be hostile?” he asked.

  “We’re on their territory, with kittypets,” Bramblestar retorted. “What do you think?”

  “Good point,” Lionblaze muttered.

  Bramblestar turned to Jessy. “Can you climb?”

  “Yes, I’ll be fine, but Frankie won’t.”

  The gray tabby tom had slumped into a sodden bundle of misery at the foot of a tree. Jessy bounded over and nudged him. “Frankie, wake up! You have to climb!”

  “Leave me alone!”

  Bramblestar tasted the air again and realized that the ShadowClan patrol would reach them in a few heartbeats. He knew that if he left Frankie where he was, the ShadowClan cats would try to drive him off, and probably injure him badly if he couldn’t run away fast enough.

  “Jessy, climb the tree,” he ordered. “Lionblaze and I will help Frankie.”

  To his relief the she-cat didn’t argue. She clawed her way up the trunk, clumsily but fast, and joined Cinderheart and Poppyfrost in the branches.

  Bramblestar turned to Lionblaze. “You push and I’ll pull,” he meowed.

  Grabbing Frankie by the scruff, Bramblestar dug his claws into the trunk of the pine tree. It felt like hauling a piece of dead prey, although Frankie was heavier than even the biggest squirrel. Lionblaze boosted him from below, and gradually they began to climb.

  Bramblestar’s belly churned because they were taking so long to reach the denser branches, where they would be hidden. Frankie wasn’t even trying to help himself; he seemed paralyzed by fear. As they forced themselves higher, Bramblestar could hear racing paw steps and the sounds of cats brushing through undergrowth.

  They must have seen us!

  Panting, he dragged Frankie onto the closest branch. Lionblaze joined them a moment later, and the dark pine needles enfolded them. Peering down, Bramblestar saw the ShadowClan patrol burst out of the bushes. Crowfrost was in the lead, with Pinenose, Ferretclaw, and his apprentice, Spikepaw.

  For a heartbeat Bramblestar expected them to surround the tree and yowl out a challenge. Instead they just dashed on, passing right under the tree without picking up the ThunderClan or kittypet scent. Their fur was bristling and their eyes were wide with tension, darting here and there as they ran.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Lionblaze whispered, staring after the ShadowClan patrol. “They’re not hunting, or checking scent markers.”

  “Who knows?” Bramblestar meowed tiredly. “At least they didn’t spot us. Now, help me get Frankie down off this branch.”

  By the time the cats reached the ThunderClan border they were all wet and exhausted.

  “This is where we live,” Bramblestar told Jessy and Frankie.

  “Here? Really?” Jessy sounded incredulous as she gazed around.

  Bramblestar could understand the kittypet’s disbelief. The territory looks so different since the storm. Everywhere had the harsh tang of the sun-drown-water, and even the trees that were clear of the flood looked sick. Bramblestar wished he could show his home to Jessy on a sunny day in greenleaf, with leaves rustling above and the warm scent of prey in every thicket.

  They had abandoned the tub at the edge of the lake because it was too awkward to push through the undergrowth. Poppyfrost and Lionblaze dragged the pelt between them as the patrol headed for the tunnel. By now it was wet, filthy, and stinking, and kept tearing when it caught on concealed roots or sharp stones.

  As they approached the makeshift camp, Bramblestar spotted several cats outside the tunnel and saw their looks of shock as they realized that he was bringing more kittypets to join them.

  Jayfeather, who had been supervising Briarlight’s exercises, came to meet the returning patrol. “What’s this?” he demanded, giving Jessy and Frankie a disdainful sniff. “Are you turning ThunderClan into a home for lost kittypets?”

  Bramblestar glared at his medicine cat; even though he knew he was adding to the Clan’s problems, he thought Jayfeather could have sounded more welcoming. “They needed our help,” he retorted. “Frankie especially. Do you have anything to calm him down?”

  Jayfeather heaved a deep sigh. “Like I don’t have enough to do. Okay, I’ll take a look.” He trotted back to the tunnel entrance and vanished. Soon he reappeared with a bundle of thyme leaves in his jaws. “Here,” he mewed to Frankie, dropping the leaves in front of him. “Eat these. They’re good for shock. When you’re feeling better, I’ll give you poppy seed so you can sleep.”

  Frankie sniffed the leaves and took a step back, curling his lip. “I don’t eat green stuff,” he mewed.

  Jayfeather shrugged. “Okay, so suffer. Your choice.”

  “You should eat them,” Cinderheart urged him. “They really will make you feel better.”

  Frankie still hesitated until Jessy gave him a hard nudge. “Eat, flea-brain.”

  Still reluctant, Frankie licked up the leaves and swallowed them, then kept passing his tongue over his jaws as if he was trying to get rid of the taste.

  Bramblestar realized that Squirrelflight had padded up beside him and was surveying the kittypets with a disapproving gaze. “Honestly, Bramblestar,” she meowed, “what were you thinking? Two more kittypets! How are we going to feed all these extra mouths? It’s not like they can hunt for themselves.”

  “Would you rather I left them behind to die?” Bramblestar asked.

  Squirrelflight rolled her eyes. “No, I suppose not. But it’s not making life any easier. Did you at least bring back something useful?”

  “There’s this Twoleg pelt,” Bramblestar meowed, pointing with his tail at the sodden object Lionblaze and Poppyfrost had dragged up.

  “That?” Squirrelflight wrinkled her nose. “
You went all that way and put your Clanmates in danger for that? It’s disgusting!”

  “No, it might not be so bad,” Daisy mewed, looking up from where she and Leafpool were sniffing the pelt. “We can stretch it over a bush to dry it.”

  Squirrelflight just let out a snort.

  Even though Bramblestar had to agree with her, he was hurt by his deputy’s dismissiveness. Before he could reply, Jessy pushed her way forward.

  “Who do you think you are?” she snarled at Squirrelflight. “You should be grateful to Bramblestar. He risked his life to get that!”

  Squirrelflight seemed too taken aback to match the kittypet’s aggressiveness. “I know how brave Bramblestar is,” she responded, then added, “I’m going to sort out patrols. Bramblestar, you need to rest and eat.”

  Jessy watched Squirrelflight as she stalked off. “Wow, is she always like that?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” Bramblestar replied.

  Jessy went over to join Frankie, who was still shivering. Minty poked her head out of the tunnel, then picked her way carefully over the muddy ground to touch noses with the other two kittypets. It seemed as if they already knew one another, but it was hardly a joy-filled reunion.

  “Thanks for getting the pelt.” Graystripe had padded up while Bramblestar was watching the kittypets. “It looks like the floods are more dangerous than we realized,” he commented with a nod at the three.

  Bramblestar murmured in agreement. All three kittypets were huddled together, small and hunched against the wind. Even Jessy looked out of place and miserable. What are we going to do with them? Bramblestar wondered.

  CHAPTER 16

  Bramblestar woke from a restless sleep, feeling the cold of the tunnel floor striking through his pelt all the way to his bones. Staggering to his paws, he picked his way among his sleeping Clanmates until he could slip past the mudfall and into the open. He padded forward a couple of tail-lengths and stood watching as the sky paled toward dawn and the last warriors of StarClan winked out.