Bramblestar's Storm

  “Hey, Bramblestar!” Lionblaze called after him. “Can I come with you?”

  “Sure.” Bramblestar waited while the golden tabby tom bounded across the clearing. “I’m just going to check the water levels.”

  Companiably the two cats trotted through the trees side by side.

  “I’ve got something to tell you,” Lionblaze confessed as they skirted the top of the cliffs that surrounded the hollow. “Cinderheart is expecting my kits.”

  Bramblestar halted. “That’s wonderful! I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  Lionblaze scrabbled in the leaf-mold with his front claws, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Uh . . . well . . . Cinderheart’s such a great cat.”

  “And she’ll make a great mother,” Bramblestar meowed. “Lionblaze, this is the best news I’ve heard in moons. Kits are the future of the Clan.”

  “I need to ask you something,” Lionblaze went on as they continued toward the lake. “I don’t want Cinderheart fighting the badgers. Will you tell her not to come?”

  “I’m not sure any cat can tell Cinderheart what to do,” Bramblestar replied. “But I’ll do my best.”

  Of course—Leafpool must know about this, and that’s why she was so worried about Cinderheart fighting! Bramblestar realized. But he was still puzzled. Why couldn’t she just say so?

  Lionblaze’s eyes were shining and his paw steps were light as he brushed through the undergrowth. Bramblestar felt his heart warmed by the happiness of the cat he still thought of as his son, and yet concern about the battle hung over him like a stormcloud in an otherwise clear sky.

  I must keep Lionblaze safe as well. These kits deserve to grow up with both their parents.

  Lionblaze picked up the pace, so that he was the first to burst out of the trees on the shore above the lake. “Look!” he yowled.

  Bramblestar hurried to catch up with him, and found him standing next to one of the sticks they had positioned to check the change in water level. Now it stood high and dry several fox-lengths away from the edge of the flood.

  “See how far the water has gone down!” Lionblaze exclaimed. “It won’t be long before we can go home. Our kits will be born in the nursery!”

  Bramblestar nodded. “Let’s reposition the sticks, and then we’ll go look at the hollow.”

  When they had retrieved the sticks and driven them into the ground at the water’s edge, the two cats climbed the slope again until they reached the cliff top. This time they padded right up to the edge and peered over. The water had dropped down far enough to reveal dark shapes rising up, thorny and misshapen by the weight of the flood.

  “Look, those branches must be the top of the warriors’ den.” Lionblaze pointed with his tail. “And over there’s the nursery—I can just see the roof with the interwoven brambles.”

  Bramblestar crouched beside him, scanning the cliffs where the marks of the flood still remained, and the debris thrown among the tumbled rocks that led up to the Highledge. “It’s going to take a lot of work to rebuild,” he murmured, thinking of how the surging water must have torn all of the nests away, and how much mud and litter would have been swept in on the flood. “But we’ll do it, however long it takes,” he added.

  Returning to camp, Bramblestar looked for Cinderheart and found her in the tunnel with Leafpool and Sandstorm. She lay on one side; Bramblestar guessed that Leafpool had been examining her.

  “Lionblaze told me about the kits,” Bramblestar announced. “Congratulations, Cinderheart.”

  “Thank you,” Cinderheart purred. “I’ve hoped for this for so long.”

  “So with the kits in mind,” Bramblestar went on, “I thought you might not want to fight the badgers.”

  Cinderheart raised her head, a glint of annoyance in her blue eyes. “I’m expecting kits,” she snapped. “I’m not sick! I can fight just as well as any cat.”

  Bramblestar knew she was right, and wasn’t quite sure how to argue with her. He could order her to stay in camp, but he didn’t want to offend her.

  While he was still searching for the right words, Sandstorm stretched out a paw and laid it gently on Cinderheart’s flank. “Remember you’re not making decisions for yourself alone now,” she mewed, her voice still hoarse from her attack of whitecough. “You have to think of the kits inside you. Is it fair to put them at risk before they’ve even been born?’

  Cinderheart opened her jaws to reply, then hesitated.

  “There’ll still be a lot to do in the camp, preparing for the wounded and keeping the fresh-kill pile stocked,” Sandstorm went on.

  “I could certainly use the help,” Leafpool added.

  The annoyance faded from Cinderheart’s gaze. Finally she nodded. “Okay, I’ll stay,” she meowed. “Sandstorm, what was it like when you were carrying Leafpool and Squirrelflight? What should I do to make sure my kits are born healthy?”

  Aware that he couldn’t add anything to this conversation, Bramblestar crept quietly away. None of the she-cats saw him go. Outside the tunnel he spotted Squirrelflight giving herself a quick groom in a patch of sunlight. “Hi,” he meowed, bounding over to her. “Lionblaze just told me some good news: He and Cinderheart are having kits.”

  Squirrelflight froze in the middle of drawing her paw over her ear. “Wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Our kit having kits! That’s awesome.” A deep purr rumbled up from her chest.

  Bramblestar gulped. I hadn’t looked at it quite like that before. “Great StarClan, that makes me feel old!” he mewed.

  Squirrelflight flicked her tail at him. “Don’t be mouse-brained.”

  Bramblestar gazed at her, stifling a small mrrow of amusement. Then he remembered the badgers, and his amusement faded.

  “At sunrise tomorrow, don’t organize any more battle-training patrols,” he told Squirrelflight. “Just the usual hunting and border patrols. They’ll need to save their strength for the end of the day.”

  Looking suddenly somber, Squirrelflight nodded. “Your warriors are ready, Bramblestar. And may StarClan be with us all.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Dusk was gathering under the trees as the last glance of sunlight faded from the sky. The air was warm and filled with the fresh scents of newleaf. The whole forest seemed full of hope and recovery, and yet Bramblestar knew, as he leaped onto the top of the mudpile, that he was about to lead his Clanmates into another deadly battle. Looking down on them, seeing the gleaming eyes of every cat turned toward him, Bramblestar’s courage wavered and for a moment he didn’t know what to say. Then he met Squirrelflight’s calm, trusting gaze, and he felt stronger again.

  “Cats of ThunderClan,” he announced. “I know what I’m asking of you, and I want you to know that I trust every one of you to fight with courage tonight. Remember that we’ve taken on badgers before and won. We defeated the Dark Forest cats, and they were far more dangerous than a few badgers! StarClan fought alongside us then, and they may be not with us in the same way now, but they’ll be watching over us, just as they always have. ThunderClan warriors, to victory!”

  “Bramblestar! Bramblestar!” his Clanmates yowled.

  Bramblestar realized with a stab of relief that after their earlier hostility they were all with him now, ready to risk their lives to save ShadowClan and to rid the forest of the threat from badgers.

  Jessy and Frankie looked as enthusiastic as the Clan cats, joining in to call his name. Jessy’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. Bramblestar nodded to her, inviting her to walk beside him as he sprang down from the mudpile and prepared to lead his cats out of the camp.

  Leafpool, Jayfeather, Purdy, and Sandstorm were clustered together just outside the tunnel. Minty and Daisy were with them, while Graystripe, Thornclaw, and Cherryfall, who had agreed to stay behind and defend the camp, took up positions around the edge of the clearing and stood there watchfully.

  As the rest of the Clan began to move off, Cinderheart bounded up to Lionblaze and touched noses with him. Lionblaze gave her a te
nder lick around the ears, and briefly twined his tail with hers.

  “Please be careful,” Cinderheart begged. “Think of our kits and stay away from danger.”

  “I can’t promise that, but I promise I’ll come back to you,” Lionblaze murmured.

  Bramblestar led his warriors out of the clearing, hearing the voices of the cats who remained echoing through the trees behind him.

  “Good-bye! Good luck!”

  “Give the badgers a few good scratches from me!”

  “We’ll keep the camp safe!”

  At last the voices died away, and the ThunderClan cats padded in silence through the darkening forest. The moon appeared above the tops of the trees, shedding a silver light over the open spaces, while the shadows of the undergrowth seemed even darker. The warriors crossed the top border into the wild woods, and along the line of the ridge to the invisible border with ShadowClan’s extended territory.

  Here Bramblestar paused. He could feel that his cats were tense and anxious as the moment of the battle drew closer. Turning to face them, he spoke to them again, his voice lower so that they had to gather around tightly to listen.

  “Remember that this is ShadowClan’s battle first,” he meowed. “Our help is unexpected.”

  “More like unwanted,” Dustpelt muttered, glaring into the darkness.

  Bramblestar ignored the interruption. “Whatever happens,” he went on, “however ShadowClan reacts, we do not get into fights with them. We’re here to drive out badgers. Nothing else.”

  Murmurs of agreement rose from the assembled cats. They waited, quivering with anticipation, a few tail-lengths inside ShadowClan territory. Bramblestar’s ears were pricked for the first sounds of battle, but he was still aware of Dovewing by his side. She was shaking from ears to tail-tip, and working her claws frantically into the loose earth.

  “Are you okay?” Bramblestar whispered, pressing himself against her for a heartbeat.

  Dovewing gazed up at him, her blue eyes wide and scared. “I don’t know how I can fight without being able to see or hear,” she confessed.

  “Like any other cat,” Bramblestar told her. “Dovewing, you’re an amazing fighter. I know you can do this. You won’t let ThunderClan down.”

  To his relief, his words seemed to calm Dovewing. Her trembling died away and her chest heaved as she took deep breaths.

  Dovewing had distracted Bramblestar briefly, and an outbreak of distant screeches, ripping through the dusky air, took him by surprise. A heartbeat later he recovered himself. “The battle has begun!” he hissed. “With me—now!”

  Waving his tail for his warriors to follow him, Bramblestar leaped forward through the trees, charging around bushes and pushing his way through sodden, rotten-smelling undergrowth. His Clanmates raced behind him, silent except for thudding paws and the splash of wet ground.

  The sounds of battle grew louder as they bounded on; the shrieks and yowls of fighting cats mingled with deeper growls and snarls from the badgers. The scent of blood and badgers was so thick that Bramblestar almost thought he could see it in the air like fog. He and his Clanmates pushed through a stretch of thickly growing hazel saplings and burst into a clearing. Bramblestar realized they were close to the Twoleg dens where they had met the hostile kittypets.

  At first Bramblestar could see nothing but badgers: their broad shoulders and blunt claws; their pointed black heads with a white stripe down the nose swinging from side to side as they searched for their prey; their enormous teeth gleaming in the moonlight. Then he noticed the smaller, swifter bodies of ShadowClan cats weaving in and out among the badgers, darting forward to slash with outstretched claws, and just as quickly falling back out of range.

  But there are so few of them! Bramblestar thought in horror.

  With less than a heartbeat’s hesitation the ThunderClan warriors leaped forward, letting out furious screeches of challenge. Bramblestar heard yowls of amazement coming from the ShadowClan cats as they realized they were not alone. Rowanstar whirled around from the badger he was facing and glared at Bramblestar.

  “We didn’t ask for your help!” he spat.

  At the same moment the badger lurched forward and swatted Rowanstar across the head with a powerful forepaw. Rowanstar staggered and fell.

  Bramblestar sprang forward to stand over his body and bared his teeth at the badger. “Get back or I’ll slit your throat!” he snarled.

  He knew the badger wouldn’t understand his threat, and bunched his muscles to spring, hoping to avoid those terrifying teeth. But before he could move, Owlclaw darted in and slashed his claws down the badger’s side. The badger, distracted, swung around and lumbered off after Owlclaw.

  Bramblestar helped Rowanstar to his paws. “You may not have asked for our help,” he panted, “but you’ve got it.”

  Rowanstar didn’t reply. For a heartbeat he stood dazedly shaking his head, then flung himself back into the battle.

  Bramblestar paused to let his gaze sweep around the clearing. In the shifting moonlight and shadow he couldn’t be sure, but he thought he could count eight badgers. Two of them look young, he thought, spotting two smaller black-and-white shapes. They might not give us too much trouble. No, who am I kidding? he added to himself, noticing two old, ferocious boars that roared and trampled through the undergrowth, fighting as if they belonged to the legendary LionClan. They’re all trouble!

  Bramblestar let out a fearsome screech and hurled himself forward. The badger closest to him had picked up a gray-and-black cat by his scruff and was shaking him like a piece of prey. Bramblestar recognized Ferretclaw from ShadowClan. His paws flailed furiously, but he couldn’t reach the badger to strike a blow.

  Bramblestar launched himself upward and dug his claws into the huge beast’s shoulder. The badger jerked its head and flung Ferretclaw away; Bramblestar lost sight of the warrior as he plummeted into a clump of ferns. Scrambling up to avoid the creature’s snapping jaws, Bramblestar balanced on the badger’s neck and raked his claws over and over again through its thick fur. He felt fierce satisfaction as blood welled up from the marks of his claws. With a bellow of pain the badger reared up on its hind paws. Bramblestar lost his grip and slid to the ground, landing with a thump that briefly drove all the breath from his body. He staggered back to his paws to see his enemy lumbering off.

  By now the clearing was full of battling cats and badgers. ThunderClan and ShadowClan fought side by side. Their nimble shapes wove between the clumsy forms of the badgers, using speed and skill to avoid the badgers’ slashing claws and teeth.

  Bramblestar spotted a badger looming over Poppyfrost, who stood bravely in front of it, hissing defiance. He raced across the open ground to help her. But before he reached her he tripped and rolled over, hitting the ground hard, with rocks driving their sharp points into his side. Springing up, he found himself at the foot of a bank, the steep slope hidden by a thick growth of fern.

  This is what we get for fighting outside our territory, he thought, shaking his pelt. We don’t know where the hollows are, or the brambles, or the fallen trees that could trap us in a corner. The battle inside the ThunderClan camp had been hideous, but at least they had known their own terrain well.

  Poppyfrost had disappeared in the moments it took Bramblestar to recover. Now he spotted Dovewing dashing up to a badger and raking its side with her claws before leaping back out of range. All her fears seemed to have vanished in the heat of the battle. As she prepared to dart in for a second blow, she seemed to notice a ShadowClan warrior writhing on the ground with the foot of another badger planted on his back. Dovewing whirled and raced toward the huge beast, sinking her claws and teeth into its leg. The badger shifted to attack her, raising its paw enough for the ShadowClan cat to crawl away, and Dovewing ducked away from the badger’s snapping jaws with one last well-aimed blow at its muzzle.

  She may have lost her powers to see and hear afar, Bramblestar thought, but she’s managing pretty well without them.

  A
few tail-lengths away Lionblaze was fighting with one of the old badgers, snarling defiance as he leaped up over and over again to slash his claws across its eyes and ears. The badger lurched from side to side, swiping with its huge paws, but it couldn’t land a blow on the whirling, dodging, golden-furred warrior.

  “He’s being too reckless!” Squirrelflight gasped, appearing at Bramblestar’s side. “Doesn’t he know that he can be hurt now?”

  “Oh, he knows,” Bramblestar replied, pride in the young warrior warming him through. “But he’s going to be a father. He’s fighting to protect Cinderheart and their unborn kits. That gives him all the courage he needs.” He hesitated, then added, “Once I felt the same.”

  Squirrelflight’s green gaze rested on him for a heartbeat that seemed to last for seasons. “You are still their father,” she meowed. Then she darted away, back into the chaos of the battle.

  Bramblestar glanced around, checking to see if any of his cats needed help. He glimpsed Cloudtail and Dustpelt, flinging themselves into the thick of the fighting together. Blossomfall, Rosepetal, and Berrynose had surrounded a badger, confusing it with matching attacks until the creature stood helplessly roaring in pain. Lionblaze was fighting side by side with Pinenose, while Mousewhisker and Stoatfur attacked a badger from each side, nimbly leaping out of the range of its massive paws.

  Bramblestar noticed that the two kittypets had taken on one of the younger badgers. Jessy stood in front of it, teasing it by jumping in to tap its nose lightly with her paws, her blows hardly grazing its skin, while Frankie attacked from behind, digging his claws into its hindquarters and biting down hard on its tail. The badger roared in fury and frustration, turning around and around in its efforts to get at Frankie, while the she-cat in front of him kept distracting him.

  That’s a new move, Bramblestar thought, amused in the midst of danger. I’ll have to remember it.

  In the next heartbeat the badger broke away, with Frankie pursuing it into the darkness under the trees. Bramblestar lost sight of Jessy too, as he dodged around a tree stump to help Scorchfur, who was battering vainly with his hind paws at a badger that held him in its claws. Bramblestar launched himself at the badger with an earsplitting screech, scoring his claws down its shoulder. The badger dropped Scorchfur, and for a few moments the dark gray tom and Bramblestar fought together, attacking the badger from one side and then the other. It was already injured, blood pouring from a wound in its side, and too slow for its blows to land on the swifter cats. Soon it turned and staggered away, thrusting a path through a dense thicket of brambles.