Bramblestar's Storm

  Bramblestar waited until the WindClan patrol had vanished downstream, heading back toward their own territory, then emerged from hiding. The rest of his patrol followed to meet Squirrelflight and her cats beside the stream. To his relief, all of Squirrelflight’s patrol seemed unhurt, except for Thornclaw, who was dabbing at a scratch on his muzzle. Actually, they looked better than they had for days, energized by the skirmish that had driven off the rival Clan.

  “They won’t come back in a hurry,” Squirrelflight mewed, twitching her whiskers in satisfaction.

  “Let’s hope not,” Bramblestar responded. “But to make sure of it, we have to move this tree.”

  To his surprise, Ivypool and Jessy already had their heads together, thinking of ways to shift the temporary bridge.

  “We can’t break the tree trunk, or chew through it,” Ivypool muttered.

  Jessy nodded. “Suppose we dislodge all this rubbish that’s piled up against it,” she suggested. “Then the extra force of the current might wash the log away.”

  “That might work. . . .” Ivypool sounded doubtful. “But where would we stand to do it? Besides, that would mean at least one cat being stuck over the other side.”

  “Then we have to dislodge just one end,” Bramblestar meowed, padding over to join the discussion. “That way, the whole thing might fall into the stream.”

  “Okay, let’s give it a try,” Cloudtail mewed impatiently.

  All the cats clustered together and tried to push the end of the log. But there wasn’t enough room on the bank for all of them to reach and add their strength. The log didn’t move.

  Jessy leaped down onto the collection of twigs and debris washed up by the stream, to try pushing from there, but it rocked alarmingly under her paws. Panic rushed through Bramblestar as he saw her stagger, about to lose her balance and fall into the torrent. Leaning over precariously, he grabbed her by the scruff and hauled her back to the bank.

  “Thanks!” Jessy gasped.

  “I won’t lose another cat to the floods,” Bramblestar meowed grimly.

  Jessy looked up at him. “But you’ve already seen me swim,” she reminded him, “and I managed just fine.”

  “Actually, that was a good idea,” Squirrelflight told Jessy, turning away from the tree trunk. “If we could strengthen that twiggy stuff so we could stand on it, then we could give the log a bigger shove than we can from the bank.”

  “Then let’s look for something to do that,” Bramblestar mewed. As the group of cats scattered in different directions, he added to Jessy, “Stay close to me, just in case.”

  “In case of what?” Jessy asked with a gleam in her eyes.

  “Anything,” Bramblestar muttered.

  The bleak moorland didn’t seem to offer much that would be useful. A few rocks jutted out here and there from the rough grass, but they were far too big to move into the stream. Bramblestar was beginning to think that they would have to trek back into the forest to fetch bracken when he heard Cloudtail’s voice calling him.

  “Bramblestar! We found something!”

  Bramblestar bounded back to the stream to find Cloudtail and Poppyfrost waiting for him. “What is it?” he asked, glancing around; he couldn’t see anything.

  “There’s a huge bush upstream,” Poppyfrost reported as the other cats came racing to join them. “It must have been uprooted and washed up on the bank.”

  “If we could drag it down here, it could be enough for all of us to stand on,” Cloudtail added.

  “Let’s take a look,” Bramblestar meowed. He led the way upstream until they came to a hawthorn bush with dense, prickly branches, caught between two rocks at the edge of the stream.

  “Oh, great!” Thornclaw sighed. “I’m really looking forward to putting my paws on that!”

  Working together, the ThunderClan cats managed to haul the bush out of the water and began dragging it down the slope toward the log. Before they had gone many paw steps, Jessy leaped back with a yelp.

  “What’s the matter?” Bramblestar puffed.

  “A branch poked me in the eye,” Jessy explained, blinking rapidly. “But I’m fine. Let’s just get on with it.”

  As the slope grew steeper, the bush began to slither down under its own weight. Bumblestripe had to dart quickly out of the way to avoid being crushed by it.

  “Stop it!” Cloudtail yowled. “If it slides past the tree, we’ll never drag it up again!”

  Bramblestar leaped at the bush from the side, letting all his weight fall onto the outermost branches and wincing as the prickles drove into his pads. Ivypool thrust herself in next to him, trying to help, while Squirrelflight and Thornclaw did the same at the other side. Their efforts slowed the bush down, but it still didn’t stop. Poppyfrost, Bumblestripe, and Jessy vainly tugged at it from the back, and even Snowpaw dug in his small claws. Bramblestar looked up to see that the tree trunk was very close.

  We’ll slip past it for sure. Fox dung!

  With heartbeats to spare, Cloudtail raced around to the front of the bush and stood bracing himself on the bank beside the fallen tree. The full weight of the bush settled over him as it finally slid to a halt. Bramblestar heard a massive oof! from the middle of the branches. A moment later Cloudtail crawled out, his long white fur snagging on the twigs.

  “Good job,” Bramblestar mewed, padding up to him. “Are you okay?”

  Cloudtail let out a disgusted snort. “I’ve got every thorn in the bush stuck in my pelt,” he hissed. “But apart from that I’m fine.”

  With Thornclaw and Squirrelflight helping, Bramblestar managed to push the hawthorn bush into the stream above the log so that the current shoved it firmly against the tree trunk.

  “It worked!” Poppyfrost exclaimed.

  “Let’s hope so,” Bramblestar muttered. “There’s still a long way to go.”

  Balancing carefully, Squirrelflight ventured out onto the bush. The branches sagged under her weight, but she stayed on her paws. “I think it’ll be okay,” she reported. “But we’d better have the lightest cats out here, and the rest should stay on the bank.”

  Poppyfrost leaped forward, but she was a bit too eager. The bush shifted under her weight and she almost slid backward into the stream until she dug in her claws and hauled herself into position beside Squirrelflight.

  “Not you,” Bramblestar meowed to Snowpaw as the apprentice got ready to follow the two she-cats. I’m not going to risk losing another apprentice. The young cat looked disappointed, so Bramblestar added, “I need a cat to keep watch. Let us know if you see any warriors coming up from WindClan.”

  Snowpaw brightened up immediately. “Right, Bramblestar!” He puffed out his chest and stood on the bank just downstream of the tree trunk, his ears pricked and his gaze fixed on the WindClan side of the torrent.

  Meanwhile Bumblestripe, Ivypool, and Jessy scrambled out onto the hawthorn bush, the branches dipping dangerously under the weight of so many cats. Ivypool’s hind paws slipped and water slopped over her hindquarters. She let out a hiss of annoyance as Bumblestripe steadied her.

  “I can’t even shake my pelt when I’m perched out here!” she grumbled.

  Bramblestar, Thornclaw, and Cloudtail remained on the bank. “Okay, is every cat ready?” Bramblestar called.

  “Just get on with it, before this bush gives way,” Squirrelflight grunted.

  Bramblestar braced himself. “When I say push . . . push!”

  Digging in with his hind paws to hold himself steady, Bramblestar heaved at the end of the tree trunk. Cloudtail and Thornclaw strained beside him. At first he thought nothing was happening, but then he felt the log shift slightly under his paws.

  “It’s moving!” he gasped.

  The cats on the bush threw all their weight against the tree. It shifted again, then with a grating sound slipped free of the rocks that held it and crashed into the stream with a massive splash that soaked the cats’ pelts.

  “Back to the bank!” Bramblestar yowled.

&n
bsp; With the tree trunk gone, the hawthorn bush was already tossing on the current. The cats who were balancing there pushed off in massive leaps for the bank. Jessy landed neatly, then whirled around to help Squirrelflight, who had been farthest away. The ThunderClan deputy was scrambling frantically among the branches as the bush started to roll over in the clutch of the rushing stream.

  “I can manage!” she panted, clawing her way through the dense thorns.

  Bramblestar leaned out and fastened his teeth in her scruff to haul her the last tail-length onto the bank. Squirrelflight’s paws had scarcely touched solid ground when the current finally swept the bush away and rolled it over and over downstream. Bramblestar looked around to make sure that all his Clanmates were safe. Every cat was spattered with mud, their pelts soaked through and torn by the prickly bush, and yet the light of triumph shone in their eyes.

  “We did it!” Ivypool yowled. “WindClan can’t get across here anymore.”

  “They might find another place higher upstream,” Bramblestar pointed out, “but ThunderClan should be safe for a while. Great job, all of you.”

  Squirrelflight nodded. “Let’s get back to camp.”

  Bramblestar felt worn out and battered as he led the way down the hill, back onto ThunderClan territory. But success had set his paws buzzing with new energy, and for the first time since the storm had broken he began to feel hopeful that they might get through this.

  “You two can set scent markers along the bank of the stream,” he told Ivypool and Poppyfrost. “We’ll make it clear to WindClan that we’re taking back our territory.”

  “I’ll help too!” Snowpaw chirped.

  Bramblestar watched with satisfaction as his Clanmates left enough ThunderClan scent to swamp the remaining traces of WindClan. Let’s hope they’ve learned their lesson. After all, it’s not like they can’t drink from the stream on their own side.

  “You know,” Cloudtail meowed as he padded along beside Bramblestar, “it feels weird to be completely cut off from WindClan like this. Back in the old forest, Firestar and Tallstar were such good friends. It’s a pity that’s all changed, now that Onestar is leader.”

  “I know.” Bramblestar sighed. “Especially since Onestar got on well with Firestar when he was Onewhisker.”

  “I appreciate that we’re separate Clans,” Cloudtail went on, “but these days the WindClan cats look at us as if they want to rip our fur off. It bothered Firestar, too.”

  “Tell me more about Firestar,” Jessy begged, bounding up to join them. “You all seem to respect him so much.”

  “There was never a cat like Firestar,” Cloudtail told her. “I’m proud to be his kin.”

  Jessy’s eyes stretched wide. “You’re his kin? Does that mean you were a kittypet too?”

  Cloudtail nodded, looking faintly embarrassed, and from somewhere behind him Bramblestar heard a snort of amusement from Thornclaw.

  Cloudtail ignored it. “My mother was Firestar’s sister, a kittypet called Princess,” he explained to Jessy. “She never wanted to leave her Twolegs, but she was proud of Firestar for making his home in the forest, so she gave one of her kits to him to bring up.”

  “And that was you?” Jessy prompted. “Wasn’t it awfully hard, leaving your mother and learning to live in the forest when you were only a kit?”

  “It was tough,” Cloudtail admitted. “There was a lot to learn, and I missed my Twolegs and their den.”

  And their food, Bramblestar thought, remembering the stories he had heard.

  “So why didn’t you go back?” Jessy went on.

  Ouch! Bramblestar knew that Cloudtail would find that hard to answer. When Cloudtail was an apprentice, he had kept sneaking into a Twoleg nest to eat kittypet food, until the Twolegs shut him inside to stop him from straying. The whole Clan knew how Firestar and some of his Clanmates had risked their lives to rescue him. But Cloudtail became a loyal warrior, Bramblestar reminded himself. He earned his place in ThunderClan.

  “I got used to it,” Cloudtail replied. “I wouldn’t live anywhere else now.”

  “Are there a lot of kittypets in the Clans?” Jessy went on.

  Cloudtail’s tail-tip twitched as if he was getting irritated by the flow of questions, but he answered readily enough. Maybe he’s relieved not to be talking about himself anymore, Bramblestar thought.

  “No, the Clans don’t usually welcome kittypets,” the white warrior meowed. “Firestar was different, because he’d been a kittypet himself.”

  “That’s right,” Thornclaw added, bounding forward to catch up to them. “And they’re very unpopular in the other Clans. Whatever you do, don’t cross the border into any other Clan’s territory. They’d chase you off as soon as look at you. And you might end up leaving some of your fur behind.”

  Jessy halted, staring in shock at the golden-brown tom. “Really? But I’m not their enemy!”

  “The warrior code says that we have to challenge all trespassing cats,” Poppyfrost told her as she turned from setting a scent marker.

  Jessy looked puzzled. “What’s the warrior code?”

  “It’s the rules we live by,” Bramblestar mewed. “Without it, we’d be no better than rogues.”

  “So you broke the code to give me shelter—and Frankie and Minty too?” Jessy sounded even more astonished.

  Bramblestar shifted his paws uncomfortably. “The code doesn’t allow me to watch cats die for no reason,” he responded after a moment’s pause. “I have to keep you safe until you can go back home.”

  Jessy nodded and padded on thoughtfully, her stream of questions silenced.

  Squirrelflight moved closer to Bramblestar and spoke softly into his ear. “I’m not sure that the code can be stretched to include kittypets,” she murmured. “You know that Firestar would always put his Clanmates first.”

  Bramblestar shrugged. “I know. There are really good reasons why I shouldn’t have brought those three into the Clan. But I didn’t feel I had any choice. I think Firestar would have done the same,” he finished.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Squirrelflight meowed.

  Back at the temporary camp, Bramblestar discovered that Brackenfur and Cinderheart had each led a hunting patrol into the woods beyond the border, and brought back a good catch. The Clan had begun to eat well since they extended their territory.

  Bramblestar could sense relief spreading throughout the Clan as he reported on the successful expedition to the WindClan border and the destruction of the tree-bridge. There was a mood of celebration as he and his Clanmates settled down to tuck in to the fresh-kill. Even Frankie and Minty looked more relaxed, Bramblestar noticed, as they settled down to share a blackbird with Millie and Graystripe. The positive mood survived when every cat had finished eating.

  “Let’s see if we can’t get the nests sorted out,” Bramblestar suggested. “We should be able to organize the sleeping places so every cat gets better rest.”

  There was a murmur of agreement from the cats around him. Cinderheart led the three youngest apprentices into the undergrowth to look for anything that could be used for extra bedding. Daisy supervised while Molewhisker and Rosepetal clawed and chewed at the Twoleg pelt to divide it into smaller pieces. Dustpelt and Brackenfur dragged a branch into the tunnel and began using the end to mark out the limits of dens on the floor.

  “This will help a lot,” Bramblestar mewed as he padded into the tunnel to watch. “Better put Purdy and the sick cats farthest from the entrance to keep them out of the wind.”

  “Good idea,” Brackenfur responded. With Dustpelt’s help he maneuvered the branch to trace a half circle next to the tunnel wall. “Leafpool and Jayfeather should sleep down here, too,” he added. “Then they’ll be close to the cats who need their help.”

  Dustpelt angled his ears toward a niche in the tunnel wall where the earth and stone had crumbled away. “That could be useful,” he meowed. “The medicine cats can store their herbs in those cracks.”

  “Look!” A
n excited squeal came from the entrance to the tunnel.

  Bramblestar turned to see Dewpaw and Snowpaw dragging a huge bundle of bracken inside. It was Snowpaw who had called out.

  “We found this really dense patch of fern,” Dewpaw added. “There’s lots of dry bracken inside. Cinderheart and Amberpaw are bringing some more.”

  “That’s great news,” Bramblestar purred.

  The bracken wasn’t entirely dry, and even with the second bundle there wasn’t enough to make a dry nest for every cat, but it was a big improvement on what they’d had until now.

  “Bring one bundle down here for the sick cats,” Bramblestar directed, “and then divide the rest among all the nests.”

  “Where do you want to put your . . . uh . . . visitors?” Dustpelt asked Bramblestar, while the apprentices scrambled around them making nests from the bracken.

  “The kittypets? They’d better go with the apprentices,” Bramblestar replied after a moment’s thought. “After all, they’ll be learning how we do things, too.”

  “We won’t have to do yucky stuff, will we?” Minty had poked her head inside the tunnel to watch what was going on. Her pink nose was creased in disgust. “I mean, I saw Amberpaw searching Purdy’s pelt for fleas. I haven’t got fleas,” she insisted, giving her shoulder a lick.

  “I could find you a few,” Dustpelt muttered.

  “Every cat has to pull their weight,” Bramblestar told her, with a flick of his tail at Dustpelt.

  Minty blinked at him, wide-eyed and unhappy.

  “I don’t mind helping out where I can,” Frankie meowed, looking over Minty’s shoulder.

  “Thanks, Frankie.” Bramblestar flicked his tail at him. “And as for you, Minty, don’t worry. You’ll soon get used to living in a Clan.”

  Minty’s only response was a long sigh.