A light rain was falling, swept across the forest by a chilly breeze, but the cloud cover seemed thinner, as if the storm might be over at last. Looking downward through the trees, Bramblestar could just make out the silver shimmer of the lake. Behind him in the shadowy tunnel he could hear rasping coughs coming from Amberpaw. Another cat stirred and muttered something grumpily.
“Here, Amberpaw.” Bramblestar’s ears twitched at Leafpool’s whispered words. “Have a drink from this wet moss. It should help your throat.”
A loud snore drowned any response from Amberpaw. Purdy, Bramblestar thought, pleased that the old cat was getting some rest. But his relief died away a moment later as he heard a whimper from deeper in the tunnel.
“Seedpaw . . . I want Seedpaw.”
“I’m here, Lilypaw.” That was Dewpaw, his voice comforting. “Lie closer to me. Seedpaw’s in StarClan now.”
Bramblestar’s heart felt as heavy as a rock. Too many cats have been lost. . . . There are too many scratches on the Stick of the Fallen. And now the stick itself had caused the death of a young apprentice. Urgent questions swept through Bramblestar’s mind like leaves driven by the wind. Will the waters ever recede? Will the Clans be forced to look for yet another home? What would Firestar have done?
He was still vainly searching for answers in his thoughts when he heard soft paw steps behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Jessy emerge from the tunnel, shivering as the rain spattered against her pelt. I bet Firestar wouldn’t have filled the Clan with kittypet mouths to feed, he thought ruefully.
Jessy’s jaws gaped in a yawn; her tail was drooping, and she was clearly tired. Her gaze darted from side to side as she left the safety of the tunnel. But her paw steps were firm as she walked over to stand beside Bramblestar.
“You don’t live in this tunnel all the time, do you?” she asked curiously.
“No, our real camp is much better than this,” Bramblestar replied. “Do you want to see it? I could show you some of the territory if you like.” We’ll be back before patrols have to go out, he told himself, feeling slightly guilty at the thought of going off alone. And we could both do with a brisk run to warm up.
“Okay,” Jessy agreed. “Lead the way, wild cat.”
As they headed down the slope toward the stone hollow, Bramblestar realized that Jessy was stumbling over roots and bramble tendrils. She winced and let out a startled yelp as water showered over her from the low branch of a hazel bush.
“Are you okay?” he called. “We can go back if you want.”
“I’m fine,” Jessy insisted, giving her pelt a shake.
Bramblestar was half-amused and half-impressed by her determination. She’s not like any kittypet I’ve ever met before.
Reaching the top of the cliff, Bramblestar pushed through the brambles, leaving a tunnel for Jessy to follow, until they could look down into the flooded hollow. “You see that ledge with the hole in the rock?” he meowed, pointing with his tail to where the Highledge was just visible above the water. “That’s the Clan leader’s den . . . my den, now. Just below it, but a bit closer to us, used to be the warriors’ den. The apprentices’ den and the nursery were over the other side. The elders’—”
“Wow!” Jessy interrupted, her eyes wide. “You’re really well organized!”
“We have to look after ourselves,” Bramblestar meowed. “We can’t rely on Twolegs out here.”
Annoyance flashed briefly in Jessy’s eyes. “Just because we’re kittypets doesn’t mean we’re weak and lazy,” she retorted.
“I never said it did.” To avoid an argument Bramblestar retreated from the cliff edge and beckoned with his tail. “Do you want to see some more of our territory?”
He led the way along the top of the floodwater toward the WindClan border. Jessy padded at his shoulder. She seemed to have forgotten her irritation, instead gazing around her with interest, though she still tended to jump at the creaking of a branch or the sucking sound of water as it lapped against the slope.
Soon Bramblestar heard the rushing of the stream that marked the border, and his nose twitched at a strong scent of WindClan. Emerging from the trees, he spotted four cats heading downstream on the ThunderClan side: the WindClan deputy, Harespring, with his apprentice, Slightpaw, along with Crowfeather and Heathertail.
Bramblestar stiffened with rage. The WindClan warriors were blatantly trespassing. They’re so determined to keep the fresh water to themselves! He knew he couldn’t confront the WindClan cats when he was out here alone except for a kittypet. “Let’s go this way,” he suggested, thankful that Jessy didn’t seem to have noticed the patrol, and steered her away toward the top of the ridge.
Jessy followed, keeping on determinedly even though she started puffing as they headed up the steep hillside. When they reached the ridge, the brown she-cat’s eyes stretched wide with amazement at the view over the flooded lake and the remains of the forest.
“It’s amazing up here! I feel like a bird! I didn’t realize how far the water stretches,” she added more seriously. “Look, that’s my housefolk’s den over there. The floods are all around it.”
Bramblestar wasn’t sure which of the Twoleg dens she was pointing at. They all looked the same to him, poking up out of the waste of water.
“I used to like hunting in the backyard,” Jessy went on, “and in Frankie and Benny’s yard. Theirs was the best—full of thick bushes!”
By now Bramblestar was feeling colder than ever, and anxious to get back to the camp after spotting the WindClan patrol on the wrong side of the stream. “Yes, but you didn’t really hunt, did you?” he mewed. “It’s not like you needed to catch your own food. I bet you never caught a thing.”
“Catching your own food doesn’t make you better than me,” Jessy snapped. “Stop being so smug. No cat can help where they’re born!”
Bramblestar was taken aback by the strength of feeling in her tone and her blazing eyes. “Okay, you have a point,” he admitted. “You know,” he went on, hoping to make it up to her, “our last leader, Firestar, was a kittypet. He came into the forest when he was six moons old, and he was the best cat in the forest. Every cat in ThunderClan misses him.” His voice shook on the last few words.
Jessy’s anger faded. “Really? I wish I’d had a chance to meet him.”
“I wish you had, too,” Bramblestar responded, sadness washing over him as he realized how impossible that was. I’d give every bit of prey in the forest to have Firestar back.
When he and Jessy returned to the tunnel, Bramblestar found the cats milling about outside while Squirrelflight sorted out the first patrols of the day.
“Where have you been?” she demanded, swinging around to confront Bramblestar. Her green eyes sparked with annoyance.
“I took Jessy for a walk, to show her some of the territory,” Bramblestar explained.
Squirrelflight curled her lip. “If Jessy wants to see the territory, she can join a patrol!”
Irritation sparked beneath Bramblestar’s fur. Am I Clan leader or aren’t I? “I can walk where I like, and with any cat I like,” he retorted.
Squirrelflight said no more, but her shoulder fur was bristling, and Bramblestar felt as if the air between them had become as cold as ice. “Dovewing, Lionblaze,” she meowed, ignoring Bramblestar, “take a patrol each and check the ShadowClan border. Start at opposite ends and meet in the middle—and make sure the scent marks are good and strong,” she finished.
Lionblaze dipped his head. “Which cats should we take?”
“Let’s see . . .” Squirrelflight glanced around. “Blossomfall, Dustpelt, and Birchfall can go with you. Dovewing, take Spiderleg, Brightheart, and Cherryfall.”
Unseen by his deputy, Bramblestar gave a nod of approval. She was right to double the patrols on the ShadowClan border. We can’t trust those cats to stay inside their own markers, and we know how badly their territory has been affected!
“I’ll help by going on patrol if you like,” F
rankie offered, padding up to stand beside Squirrelflight.
Bramblestar twitched his whiskers in surprise. The gray tabby tom was looking brighter and more determined this morning, very different from the shrinking, moaning creature who had come to the camp the night before. Good job, Jayfeather! Your herbs have really helped him.
Glancing at the gathering patrols, Bramblestar realized that all the warriors looked distinctly unimpressed at the idea of Frankie taking part. “No, thanks, Frankie,” he meowed. “It’s a bit soon for that. Get some rest today, and we’ll find you something to do soon.”
“Patrolling with a kittypet?” Blossomfall muttered. “I’d sooner eat fox dung!”
“Yeah,” Spiderleg agreed. “He’d really scare ShadowClan.”
Bramblestar glared at them, hoping that Frankie hadn’t heard. “The sick cats shouldn’t go out,” he mewed to Squirrelflight as the ShadowClan patrols moved off. “Sandstorm and Amberpaw need to rest and stay dry.”
Squirrelflight nodded, her previous annoyance seemingly forgotten. “Mousewhisker has started coughing,” she reported. “And Berrynose is looking pretty sorry himself. I think they should stay in camp, too.” She flicked her tail toward the tunnel entrance, where Berrynose was crouched miserably, his cream-colored fur ungroomed. Poppyfrost sat beside him, giving his ears a comforting lick.
“Okay, fine,” Bramblestar meowed, trying to push down a swell of anxiety. How many more of us will get sick before this is over?
“I’m going to lead a patrol along the WindClan border,” Squirrelflight went on. “Poppyfrost, Cloudtail, and Thornclaw, you can come with me.”
Poppyfrost quickly said good-bye to Berrynose. She and the other cats gathered around Squirrelflight and set out. They had gone several fox-lengths down the slope before Bramblestar remembered what he had seen that morning.
“Hey, Squirrelflight, hold on a moment!” he called.
Squirrelflight turned and padded back up the slope toward him. “What?”
“When I was out with Jessy I spotted a WindClan patrol on our side of the stream,” Bramblestar told her. “You should keep a lookout for—”
“What, you only think to tell us that now?” Squirrelflight’s tail lashed and her green eyes narrowed in fury. “There are trespassers on our territory and it slipped your mind?”
Bramblestar forced his neck fur to lie flat, knowing that his deputy had some reason for her anger. I should have come straight back here and sent out a patrol.
“Those crow-food eaters! How dare they?” Thornclaw exclaimed, following Squirrelflight back up the slope.
“Let’s chase them off!” Ivypool hissed, coming to join her Clanmates with Bumblestripe just behind.
“They’re probably back in their own camp by now,” Squirrelflight snapped with another flick of her tail.
“You know,” Bumblestripe began thoughtfully, “they must have had trouble crossing the stream. Now that it’s flooded, it’s too wide to jump across for the whole length of the border, and the current is far too strong for them to swim. They must be crossing farther up. If we could find the place, there might be a way to guard or block it.”
“That’s a great idea,” Bramblestar mewed. “I’ll lead a patrol upstream right away and check it out. You can come with me to investigate, Bumblestripe, and you too, Ivypool.”
“I’ll get Snowpaw,” Ivypool mewed, racing back to the tunnel mouth and calling for her apprentice.
“Can I come too?” Jessy asked, bright-eyed. When Bramblestar hesitated, unsure about taking a kittypet on what could be a dangerous patrol, she added, “I’d like to help, and I know I can’t hunt.” Blinking, she shot him a look of exaggerated innocence, and Bramblestar knew she was reminding him of their earlier conversation.
“Okay,” he agreed. “But do exactly what I tell you.”
Squirrelflight looked annoyed at the addition of the kittypet; then Bramblestar reflected that perhaps she was just worried about the invasion. “I’ll take my patrol to the bottom of the stream and we’ll work our way up,” she meowed. “If we meet the trespassers, we’ll chase them off.”
“Oh, yes,” Thornclaw added, baring his teeth in a snarl.
“If you find the crossing place,” Squirrelflight went on to Bramblestar, “you should hide there and let the WindClan cats go back to their own territory. Then do what you can to block it.”
“Right,” Bramblestar responded, feeling amused. Just who’s Clan leader here? He waited until Squirrelflight had left at the head of her patrol, and Ivypool had returned with Snowpaw, who was bouncing excitedly at the thought of tackling WindClan.
“Stay close to your mentor,” Bramblestar warned him. He wasn’t sure it was wise to add an apprentice to the group. Still, Snowpaw can look after himself better than Jessy. He was about to set out when he heard his name being called, and spotted Jayfeather emerging from the tunnel. Bramblestar waited for his medicine cat to cross the wet grass to his side.
“Bramblestar, be careful,” Jayfeather mewed breathlessly.
“Have you had another dream?” Bramblestar demanded. “Another omen?”
Jayfeather shook his head, looking troubled. “I just don’t want to risk any more lives.”
Bramblestar guessed that Jayfeather was feeling distressed by the way that he had failed to interpret the warnings about the Stick of the Fallen. “Don’t worry,” he reassured the medicine cat. “We’ll be careful. I don’t want to lose any more cats, either.”
Bramblestar and his patrol trekked up to the ridge, then trudged along the top toward the swollen stream. Once out of the shelter of the trees, the wind blustered around them, flattening their pelts to their sides, and rain flicked in their faces. Though he kept halting to look and listen for WindClan cats, Bramblestar couldn’t pick up any trace of them, not even a whiff of their scent. But from here there was no clear view down to the lake. That patrol could be anywhere.
When they reached the stream, Bramblestar detected WindClan scent along the bank; it was fairly fresh, as if it might have been left by the patrol he had seen earlier. “They came this way,” he meowed. “So they must have crossed farther up. Let’s go.”
Before they had traveled many more fox-lengths, they crossed their own border scent markers. Bramblestar’s paws tingled as he led his patrol out of Clan territory.
“This is the way to the Moonpool,” Snowpaw informed Jessy, pattering along beside her. “I wish I could go there. It sounds so cool!”
“What’s the Moonpool?” Jessy asked.
“All the medicine cats go there,” Snowpaw told her. He seemed delighted to be teaching a cat who knew even less about the forest than he did. “That’s where they meet with StarClan.”
Jessy opened her jaws to ask another question, but Snowpaw forestalled her. “StarClan are the spirits of our dead ancestors,” he informed her. “They tell medicine cats omens and stuff.”
Jessy blinked and shot Bramblestar a glance full of confusion. “StarClan? Dead cats?”
“Shh.” Bramblestar raised his tail to silence them. “There might be WindClan cats about.”
The patrol’s pace slowed as the ground became rockier. The stream was still fast flowing and overfull, but narrower here as it cut through a deeper channel. Bramblestar began to think it might be possible to leap over it. Though I wouldn’t want to try it, he thought with a shiver as he watched the roiling water.
Ivypool had bounded ahead of the rest of the patrol. Suddenly she turned back, gesturing with her tail. “Come and see this!” she called.
Bramblestar picked up the pace until he reached Ivypool’s side and saw a fallen tree wedged across the stream. The flood must have washed it down from the mountains, he realized. The current had thrown debris against the tree on both sides of the stream, and water was breaking over the top, but Bramblestar had no doubt that this was the crossing place. The whole area reeked of WindClan scent.
“Those impudent rabbit-chasers!” Ivypool exclaimed. “Now what are
we going to do?”
CHAPTER 17
“We have to dislodge the tree,” Bramblestar mused, examining it carefully. He couldn’t imagine how they were going to manage that; the trunk was firmly wedged among the rocks on both sides of the stream.
“I’ll take a closer look,” Jessy meowed, leaping onto the trunk and running confidently along it.
Bramblestar admired how light-pawed and nimble she was, realizing she must have had practice walking along the fence-tops by the Twoleg dens. His Clanmates looked a bit startled, though they said nothing.
“Dovewing told me how she and the others dislodged the beaver dam,” Ivypool told Bramblestar as they waited for Jessy to return. “It sounds as if it must have been similar to this. But they waded into the stream and attacked the dam from the bottom. The water here is too deep and fast flowing for us to do that.”
Bramblestar nodded. “We can’t risk—”
“Bramblestar!” Bumblestripe broke in. “I can smell WindClan cats. They’re coming this way.”
Turning away from the tree trunk, Bramblestar parted his jaws to taste the air. Bumblestripe was right. He drew in fresh WindClan scent, growing stronger with every heartbeat. And it was on their side of the stream. “Hide!” he ordered. “Jessy, get back here!”
While the brown kittypet ran back along the tree trunk, Ivypool and Snowpaw dived into the shelter of the rocks. Bumblestripe flattened himself underneath a low-growing thorn bush, and Bramblestar shoved Jessy in beside him. She peered out at him, wide-eyed with excitement at the sudden crisis.
“They’ll see my white fur!” Snowpaw gasped from behind a rock.
“No, they won’t.” Bramblestar threw himself down on top of the apprentice, who wriggled underneath him and stuck his head out, gasping for breath.
Cautiously Bramblestar craned his neck to see around the rock. The WindClan patrol he had seen earlier was heading up the stream, panting and scrambling over the stones. Squirrelflight and her patrol were bounding after them, screeching. Harespring skidded to a stop beside the tree trunk and turned to face the pursuing ThunderClan patrol while the other three WindClan cats ran across the log. All of them looked disheveled, as if the ThunderClan cats had given them a few swipes, but no cat was seriously hurt. Once his Clanmates were across safely, Harespring sprang after them, with a final hiss at Squirrelflight and her warriors.