Bramblestar's Storm

Bramblestar pressed himself against her side. “It was hard for both of you. SkyClan owes you a lot.”

  Sandstorm dipped her head in agreement. “Yes, but they repaid us, in a way. Skywatcher—that was the warrior name Firestar gave to Sky—died while we were there, but before he died, he made a prophecy.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “‘There will be three, kin of your kin, who will hold the power of the stars in their paws.’”

  Bramblestar felt his heart skip a beat. “The Prophecy of the Three came from SkyClan!” he murmured. “Everything is connected.”

  The two cats shared a few heartbeats of silence, until Bramblestar meowed, “Why didn’t Firestar tell all the Clans about SkyClan when you came home?”

  “I asked him that once,” Sandstorm replied. “He said that the burden of guilt didn’t need to be carried on. StarClan had done its best to make amends by sending Firestar and me to build a new SkyClan.” Gently she added, “There is a time for guilt and shame to stop.”

  Bramblestar sighed. “I hope I can stop feeling guilty about the badger attack,” he confided to Sandstorm. “I lost Dustpelt and I angered Rowanstar.” Unfamiliar emotion surged through him, and more words spilled out of him. “I was just trying to do what Firestar would have done. He would have rescued the kittypets and helped ShadowClan not once, but twice.”

  Sandstorm’s ears flicked up in surprise, and she fixed a compelling green gaze on Bramblestar. “That’s not what you’re supposed to do!” she exclaimed. “StarClan knew you would be a good leader in your own right. That’s why they led your paws along this path. Firestar didn’t appoint you to be his echo, but to be yourself. He trusted you to protect ThunderClan, to make decisions for them based on your own judgment and instincts.” Tucking her paws underneath her, she went on, “Tell me honestly, if there was no ThunderClan, no Firestar, no expectations, would you still have helped the kittypets? Interfered with ShadowClan?”

  Bramblestar thought about how he had made those decisions. He had felt compassion for the kittypets, unable to abandon them to drown or starve in the flood. His bond with Tawnypelt had led him to save her Clan.

  He took a deep breath. “Yes, I would.”

  Sandstorm’s eyes narrowed in approval. “You are the leader of ThunderClan now, Bramblestar,” she mewed. “Not Firestar. Be the leader that you want to be. No cat expects anything else.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Repairs to the hollow progressed rapidly in the sunny days that followed. The Clan still lived in the tunnel, but their hunting and border patrols had to be fitted around the task of rebuilding.

  Just before sunhigh, Bramblestar headed for the hollow to see how the work was going. He was tired after an early hunting patrol, but he shared with all his Clanmates the sense of jubilation that their home was being restored. As he approached the camp, he spotted Squirrelflight in the entrance helping Rosepetal and Bumblestripe, who were dragging brambles and tendrils of ivy to form a new barrier. She broke off when she spotted Bramblestar and padded up to him.

  “It’s going well,” she mewed, looking exhausted but determined. “Come in and see.”

  Bramblestar followed her into the camp. The hollow was swarming with cats, and for a moment he couldn’t make any sense of all the activity. Then he noticed Brackenfur moving from den to den, pausing to direct the building work with a great deal of calm meowing and waving of his tail. He looked confident, as if at last he was comfortable alone in the role he had once shared with Dustpelt.

  Briarlight was sitting with Jayfeather and Leafpool at the mouth of their den, helping the medicine cats to sort herbs. Bramblestar realized with satisfaction that one of his Clanmates must have carried her down from the tunnel.

  Jessy bounded over to Bramblestar, her eyes sparkling with triumph. “You have to see the nursery!” she announced.

  Lionblaze was scrambling around on the nursery roof, patching the holes with tough stems of ivy. “Cinderheart!” he called, twisting around precariously to beckon his mate with one paw. “It’s nearly finished. Our kits will be warm and safe in here!”

  Cinderheart hurried over and stood looking up with a warm glow in her blue eyes. “It’s perfect!” she purred.

  Inside Bramblestar discovered Daisy with the other two kittypets, spreading huge bundles of moss over the nursery floor.

  “Minty, make sure there aren’t any thorns in there,” Daisy mewed. “We don’t want Cinderheart’s kits to get scratched.”

  “I’ll be careful, Daisy,” Minty responded, drawing her claws through the moss and setting aside a huge thorn.

  Lionblaze dropped to the ground and stuck his head inside the entrance, with Cinderheart peering over his shoulder. “It’s great in here,” he meowed. “I can’t wait for our kits to be born. I’ll visit as often as I can.”

  Daisy gave him a sharp flick with her tail. “You’ll visit if I say you can,” she told him. “Cinderheart and her kits will need a lot of rest. We all have to put mothers and their kits first.”

  Lionblaze nodded. “Of course, Daisy.”

  Jessy followed Bramblestar out as he left the nursery. “Daisy has enough help,” she remarked. “Is there anything else I can do?”

  Bramblestar glanced around and spotted the apprentices, who were hauling a tangle of bramble tendrils up to the warriors’ den. “They could do with some extra paws,” he mewed.

  “I’m on it!” Jessy responded, bounding across the camp toward the young cats.

  Bramblestar watched her go, then went over to Squirrelflight, who was struggling with a hazel branch outside the elders’ den. “Let me help you with that,” he offered.

  Together they began wrestling the branch into position. Squirrelflight kept darting swift glances at Bramblestar. “I’ve noticed how well you’re getting on with Jessy,” she murmured after a few moments.

  Bramblestar’s pelt grew hot with embarrassment at the thought of discussing Jessy with Squirrelflight. “She’s a nice cat,” he responded; then, trying to sound lighthearted, he added, “for a kittypet.”

  “She doesn’t seem like a kittypet now,” Squirrelflight mewed. After a pause, she added, “Do you think she’ll stay?” She didn’t look at Bramblestar. “I mean, if you want her to, that’s fine with me. Not that it’s up to me, of course . . .” Her voice trailed off; she sounded as awkward as Bramblestar felt.

  Bramblestar blinked. Until now he hadn’t thought about what it would be like if Jessy stayed in the Clan forever, as a warrior and his mate. Is that what I want?

  He looked at Squirrelflight, who had gone back to struggling with the branch. Behind him, he could hear Lionblaze talking to Cinderheart. “How many kits do you think we’ll have?”

  Then Jayfeather’s voice, raised in annoyance, drifted across the camp. “How many times do I have to tell you apprentices? Watch where you’re putting your paws when you come into my den. That’s a whole bunch of yarrow crushed!”

  My sons are so grown up, so confident and talented. How could I have regretted raising them for a single moment? Grief surged up inside Bramblestar. “I miss Hollyleaf,” he blurted out.

  Squirrelflight let the branch drop. “So do I.”

  She looked so heartbroken, her eyes wide and full of sorrow as if the pain had never left, that Bramblestar choked on the words he would have liked to stay. Instead he rested his head against Squirrelflight’s, hoping that the touch would bring her comfort.

  Neither of them said anything more about Jessy.

  As the sun reached its height, Cloudtail appeared at the entrance to the hollow with Blossomfall, Dovewing, and Berrynose. All four cats were loaded with prey.

  “Hey, Bramblestar!” Cloudtail dropped his catch in the middle of the clearing and waved his tail at his Clan leader. “We brought our fresh-kill so we can eat here!”

  “Good idea,” Bramblestar agreed.

  Cheerful yowls rose from his Clanmates as they converged hungrily on the pile. Bramblestar chose a thrush and settled down to eat. As the noise died down wh
ile the cats gulped down their fresh-kill, he heard Blossomfall and Rosepetal talking together beside him.

  “What’s this I hear, that Bumblestripe and Dovewing aren’t mates anymore?” Rosepetal asked.

  Surprised, Bramblestar flicked a glance around the clearing and saw that the two warriors were eating on opposite sides of the group, about as far away from each other as they could get. Both of them looked downcast, and kept their gaze firmly fixed on their prey.

  “That’s right,” Blossomfall replied to Rosepetal. “But I never did think Dovewing was right for my brother. She’s always been a bit . . . different, hasn’t she?”

  Rosepetal murmured agreement. “I’m sure Bumblestripe will find another mate soon,” she mewed. “He’s so nice.”

  Blossomfall gave her a friendly prod. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you like!”

  Bramblestar was distracted from the conversation as Jessy came to sit beside him and tucked into her mouse. He studied her warily, still not sure about what their future might be. Squirrelflight’s comments had confronted him with something he had been aware of for a while. He was finishing his thrush when his deputy approached, picking her way through the crowd of feeding cats.

  “Hey, Squirrelflight wants you,” Jessy meowed, springing to her paws as she gulped down the last of her mouse. “I’ll talk to you later.” Resting her tail on Bramblestar’s shoulder for a moment, she headed for the nursery.

  Bramblestar noticed that Squirrelflight’s gaze followed her, but he said nothing. “Did you want something?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Squirrelflight mewed. “I thought we could celebrate the return to the hollow with a warrior ceremony. Lilypaw fought well against the badgers, don’t you think? I know she hasn’t had a formal assessment, but she’s more than proved her skills.”

  “She sure has,” Bramblestar agreed. “Let’s do it.” Glancing around, he saw that most of the Clan had finished eating. He rose to his paws. “Since we’re all here,” he began, “I’m going to hold a Clan meeting. I’ve got something important to do. Lilypaw, come here.”

  The apprentice’s eyes widened with shock and she almost tripped over her own paws as she joined Bramblestar. The rest of the Clan moved into a ragged circle with Bramblestar at its center.

  “Am I in trouble?” Lilypaw whispered.

  Bramblestar shook his head. “Quite the opposite.” Raising his voice, he began, “I, Bramblestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.”

  Lilypaw looked astonished as Bramblestar spoke the words of the ceremony. Every hair on her pelt fluffed out, and she was trembling. A stir of excitement ran through her Clanmates as they realized what was happening.

  “Lilypaw,” Bramblestar went on, “do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

  Lilypaw’s jaw’s opened and for a moment Bramblestar thought nothing would come out. But her voice was clear and confident as she replied, “I do.”

  “Then by the power of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Lilypaw, from this moment you will be known as Lilyheart. I give you this name in recognition of your courage, and because Seedpaw and Sorreltail will live forever in your heart. ThunderClan honors your bravery and dedication, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.” He rested his muzzle on her head, and Lilyheart licked his shoulder in response.

  “Lilyheart! Lilyheart!” the rest of ThunderClan called out in welcome.

  Under cover of the jubilant cries, Lilyheart whispered to Bramblestar, “Thank you for my name. It’s beautiful.”

  Poppyfrost bounded forward to congratulate her former apprentice, while Brackenfur padded up to Bramblestar’s side. “Thank you, Bramblestar,” he meowed, his eyes shining with pride as he gazed at his daughter. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

  “She deserves it,” Bramblestar meowed. “You both deserve it.”

  Before the circle of cats could disperse, Graystripe and Sandstorm stepped forward together to stand beside Bramblestar. Each of them dipped their head to him with great dignity.

  “Bramblestar, we want to ask if we may enter the elders’ den when the Clan returns to the hollow,” Sandstorm mewed.

  “We feel it’s time to let the younger cats take over,” Graystripe added. “Though we’ll still be watching them!”

  Even though he had been expecting this for a while, Bramblestar felt a pang of sorrow. Firestar and Dustpelt were dead; Graystripe and Sandstorm were the last remaining cats of their generation. “Of course you may join Purdy,” he agreed. “If you’re sure, we can hold your ceremony now.”

  Realizing that something more was about to happen, the Clan fell silent again, Lilyheart, Brackenfur, and Poppyfrost withdrawing to stand in the circle with their Clanmates.

  “Cats of ThunderClan,” Graystripe began, sounding slightly awkward but determined to have his say, “I’m so glad that I came back to find ThunderClan. I could never have made the journey without Millie, and I was so blessed by StarClan to have a second chance to raise kits.” His glance traveled around the clearing, resting on each of his friends in turn. “I’ll never forget Silverstream or Stonefur,” he went on, “and I can scarcely believe that my daughter Mistystar is now leader of RiverClan. But I have no quarrel with StarClan for the path they chose for me, and I’m proud of all my kits. Blossomfall for her courage and skill in battle; Bumblestripe for his loyalty and compassion; and Briarlight for her bravery, her humbling spirit, and her hopefulness. I shall be watching all of you from the elders’ den; you can be sure of that.”

  “I won’t be long behind you, Graystripe,” Millie purred, giving her mate a loving look.

  Graystripe blinked at her. “I will wait for you, my dear.”

  Bramblestar waited for a moment, recalling the two cats’ long relationship and the kits they had given to ThunderClan. Then he stepped forward and glanced from Graystripe to Sandstorm. “Are you ready?”

  “Almost,” Sandstorm mewed. “I just want to say that I will continue to serve my Clan and the warrior code, even from the elders’ den.” Her green gaze, full of love and loyalty, swept around the circle of her Clanmates. “I wish Firestar were here at my side,” she went on, her voice shaking, “but I know he’s watching over me, and over all of us.” With great dignity she dipped her head to Bramblestar. “Go ahead.”

  “Sandstorm, Graystripe,” Bramblestar began, “is it your wish to give up the role of warrior and go to join the elders?”

  There was regret but no uncertainty in Sandstorm’s voice. “It is.”

  “It is,” Graystripe echoed.

  “Your Clan honors you and all the service you have given us,” Bramblestar went on. “I call upon StarClan to give you many seasons of rest.” He laid his tail across Sandstorm’s shoulders, and the ginger she-cat bowed her head, then stepped back. When Bramblestar had repeated the gesture for Graystripe, the two cats padded over to stand beside Purdy.

  “I’m lookin’ forward to company in the elders’ den,” the old tom meowed. “We’ll have plenty o’ stories to tell each other.”

  For a moment Bramblestar thought that he could see Firestar and Dustpelt weaving around the two new-made elders, the four cats united again. But before he could be certain, the image faded.

  CHAPTER 34

  “Uh . . . Bramblestar?” Frankie walked into the circle of cats. “Can I ask you something?”

  Bramblestar dipped his head. “Of course.”

  “I want . . . that is, I’d like to join ThunderClan, and stay in the forest forever. If you’ll have me,” Frankie finished humbly.

  Murmurs of surprise rose from the cats who surrounded them, but Bramblestar was pleased to see that none of them looked hostile at the idea of accepting a kittypet into the Clan. The gray tabby had more than proved his loyalty in the battle wit
h the badgers, and his willingness to hunt and patrol.

  “We’d be honored to have you,” he responded.

  Frankie’s eyes shone with pride. “Thank you, Bramblestar!”

  “Frankie,” Bramblestar went on, “from this moment you will be known as Stormpaw, in recognition of the storm that brought you here, and as a memorial to your brother Benny. Squirrelflight, you will be mentor to Stormpaw. I’m sure that you will teach him everything he needs to know.”

  Squirrelflight’s green gaze met Bramblestar’s for a moment; then she dipped her head and beckoned to Stormpaw with her tail. “Touch noses with me,” she murmured as he approached her.

  “Stormpaw! Stormpaw!” the cats in the hollow yowled.

  As the clamor died away, Minty stepped forward. “Er . . . I don’t want to stay here! No offense—you’ve all been really kind—but please can I go home now? I want to see if my housefolk have come back.”

  “Of course,” Bramblestar meowed with a purr. “We’ll take you home. Thank you for everything you’ve done.” He glanced at Jessy, but she said nothing, and did not meet his gaze. Bramblestar’s pelt prickled. There’s a question waiting to be asked and answered, but neither of us is ready to say it out loud.

  Pushing that to the back of his mind, Bramblestar turned to Minty. “We’ll take you home now, if you want.”

  Minty hesitated. “Please, may I stay one more night? I want to finish the nursery, and Purdy said he would tell me a story about a blind chicken, and I promised to help Leafpool sort some herbs, and . . . oh!” Her voice rose into a wail. “I will miss you all so much!” she blurted out.

  Millie, who was standing nearby, rested her tail-tip on Minty’s shoulder. “We’ll always be here, if you ever want to visit,” she meowed.

  “Yes, you’ll always be welcome.” The rest of the Clan gathered around Minty, letting out friendly purrs.

  “You have to come see my kits!” Cinderheart purred.

  Brightheart nuzzled Minty’s ears. “I’ll be glad of help gathering herbs, if you feel like a walk in the forest some time.”