Bramblestar's Storm

  “You don’t have to!” Daisy meowed. “You’re the leader of ThunderClan. You must have more important things to do.”

  “This might be important too,” Bramblestar insisted. “We’ll go together, after sunhigh.”

  Daisy let out a long purr, blinking up at him gratefully. “Thank you, Bramblestar.”

  As she headed back to the nursery, Graystripe joined Bramblestar.

  “What did Daisy want?” the gray warrior meowed. He looked surprised when Bramblestar explained. “She wants to go back to the horseplace? Do you think she’s considering leaving ThunderClan?” He puffed out a brief sigh. “Maybe the Great Battle scared her too much.”

  “That was several moons ago,” Bramblestar pointed out. “If Daisy was scared, she would have left right away.”

  “Then maybe it’s because the nursery is empty,” Graystripe suggested, flicking his tail toward the deserted bramble-covered den. “Maybe Daisy feels there’s no place for her here anymore, with no queens or kits to care for.”

  Bramblestar dug his claws into the ground. Why is every cat always talking about kits? “Wait until newleaf,” he meowed. “The nursery will fill up then.” He cast a hopeful glance at Millie, who was eating a sparrow beside the fresh-kill pile. “I don’t suppose . . . ?”

  Graystripe shook his head. “Our days of having kits are gone,” he replied, sounding amused. “There are plenty of young cats around to do that duty.”

  But none of the she-cats are expecting kits, Bramblestar thought bleakly.

  Sunhigh was just past when Bramblestar and Daisy set out toward the edge of the lake. Before they were halfway down the slope to the lake, Bramblestar noticed that Daisy was limping. Her paws are sore after the long walk to the Gathering, he thought. She’s not used to traveling far outside the hollow.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to put this off to another day?” he asked.

  “Oh, no, I’ll be fine!” Daisy assured him. “I don’t want to wait before I see Smoky and Floss again.”

  On the lakeshore, Bramblestar spotted Ivypool, Spiderleg, and Whitewing practicing battle moves with their apprentices. As he and Daisy drew closer, the three young cats dived into the undergrowth that edged the stones.

  What are they up to? Bramblestar wondered.

  Suddenly Amberpaw and Dewpaw exploded out of the ferns and hurled themselves on top of Daisy. She let out a startled yowl as her paws skidded out from under her, and lay shaking on the ground.

  “Get off her, you stupid furballs!” Bramblestar growled, grabbing Amberpaw by the scruff and hauling her off. He gave Dewpaw a hard shove with his hind paws. “What do you think you’re playing at?”

  The three mentors came bounding up, while Snowpaw emerged from the bushes looking relieved that for once he wasn’t the cat in trouble.

  “We were practicing our stalking!” Amberpaw mewed.

  “You didn’t hear us coming, did you?” Dewpaw added.

  “Are you mouse-brained?” Whitewing hissed. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, attacking an unprepared cat—and a cat who wasn’t threatening you.”

  “Right,” Spiderleg agreed, giving Amberpaw a hard cuff around the ear. “Learn to recognize a real enemy!”

  “I’m so sorry,” Whitewing mewed to Daisy, who was sitting up, looking flustered. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Daisy replied, shaking her pelt to remove the dirt, then giving herself a quick groom to settle her ruffled fur.

  Ivypool gave both apprentices a sharp prod. “Apologize . . . now!”

  Both apprentices were looking dismayed. Daisy helped raise them when they were in the nursery, Bramblestar recalled. She’s the last cat they’d want to hurt.

  “We’re very sorry,” Dewpaw mewed, nuzzling Daisy’s shoulder. “We’ll make it up to you.”

  “I’ll catch a vole and bring it to the nursery later,” Amberpaw promised. “I know that’s your favorite!”

  “And I’ll collect some thrush feathers and make your nest really soft,” Dewpaw added.

  Daisy gave both the young cats an affectionate lick around the ears. “It’s okay,” she mewed. “I know you were just practicing. I’ll look forward to the vole and the feathers, though!”

  “They didn’t mean to give you a scare,” Bramblestar meowed as he and Daisy continued toward the stream that marked the edge of their territory.

  “Oh, I know,” Daisy replied with a flip of her tail. “All apprentices get it wrong sometimes. And it was a pretty good attack move!”

  Bramblestar purred in agreement, admiring Daisy for her quick recovery and her clear sympathy for the apprentices. It’s too easy to forget what she does for our kits in the nursery, he thought. He remembered Ferncloud’s words when she gave him one of his nine lives. She had warned him never to underestimate the cats who provided the Clan with its new members, and helped to raise them. And she was right. Daisy deserves as much honor and respect as any warrior.

  With a surge of optimism, he sprang over the border stream and picked up the pace until he was running along the shore below the open stretch of moorland. Daisy followed him, though she soon dropped behind. Bramblestar halted and waited for her to catch up.

  “Sorry!” she panted. “I’m not used to this. Maybe I should run a bit more often.”

  Bramblestar let her set the pace until they reached the marsh; then they followed the WindClan border up the slope until they reached the fence around the horseplace. Daisy flattened herself to the ground and slid underneath. As Bramblestar followed he felt the ground begin to shake, and looked up to see three enormous horses galloping across the field toward them. He crouched down with his tail curled around him, waiting for one of the huge feet to land on him and crush his bones as it stamped him into the ground.

  “It’s okay,” Daisy meowed. “Even I can run faster than them. Come this way.”

  Bramblestar rose to his paws and gave his pelt a shake, feeling hot with embarrassment. He followed Daisy as she slipped along the fence toward a line of bushes. They looked too thick to find a way through, and Bramblestar was conscious of the horses drawing closer like rolls of thunder. But Daisy dived into a narrow gap between two gnarled stems and vanished out of sight. Bramblestar forced his way in after her, feeling thorns tug at his pelt as he scrambled through. A moment later he popped into the open on the other side; behind him the rumbling hoofbeats stopped and he heard the horses snorting in frustration.

  He realized that his fur was bristling with terror and forced it to lie flat again. Daisy was watching him with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “There are different sorts of danger here,” she commented. “Not so many Dark Forest cats, but a lot more living horses!”

  “True,” Bramblestar grunted. “Lead the way, Daisy.”

  As they headed toward the small wooden barn, Bramblestar spotted Smoky watching them from his perch on a fencepost. His eyes glowed with pleasure as he leaped down to touch noses with Daisy.

  “It’s great to see you!” he purred. He sounded more wary as he turned to Bramblestar. “I’ve met you before, haven’t I?” he meowed. “Back when you were a young cat, I think.”

  “He’s Clan leader now!” Daisy told the gray-and-white tom.

  “Really?” Smoky didn’t sound impressed.

  “Where’s Floss?” Daisy asked, looking around. “I can’t wait to see her again.”

  Smoky bowed his head, and his voice was somber as he replied, “Floss is dead.”

  “No!” Daisy exclaimed. “How did it happen?”

  “She caught greencough,” Smoky explained. “The Twolegs tried to treat her, but it was no use.”

  For a few heartbeats Daisy was too upset to speak. She flexed her front claws, ripping up the turf. Smoky pressed himself to her side. “If you like, I’ll show you where she’s buried,” he mewed.

  Daisy nodded mutely. Bramblestar followed a pace or two behind as Smoky led Daisy around the back of the barn to a small mound of fresh earth.

  “
Pip’s buried here, too,” Smoky told her. “You remember the dog? He was an annoying little flea-pelt, but now that he’s gone, I kinda miss him.”

  Daisy turned a shocked look on the horseplace cat. “So much has happened!” she gasped. “And I’m only a moment’s travel away. How could I not have known?”

  Smoky shrugged. “I know I’m not welcome in the woods or on the moor. Besides, Daisy, you made the choice to leave us. We have to respect that.”

  For a heartbeat, Bramblestar thought Daisy looked as though she was regretting her decision. Movement at the corner of his eye distracted him. He turned to see a young she-cat appear around the side of the barn, her tortoiseshell-and-white pelt shining in the sunlight.

  “You’re new here,” Daisy commented as the newcomer bounded up. There was an edge to her tone, and her fur began to fluff up. “Who are you?”

  “This is Coriander,” Smoky mewed, brushing his pelt against the tortoiseshell cat. “She replaced Floss. She’s a great mouser!”

  “Replaced Floss?” Daisy sounded even more upset. “How can any cat replace Floss?”

  Bramblestar rested his tail-tip on her shoulder, trying to warn her silently that there was no point in getting agitated. Daisy seemed to understand, and took a deep breath. “Greetings,” she meowed, dipping her head to Coriander.

  The young she-cat didn’t return the gesture. “You must be some of those weird cats from the woods,” she mewed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just visiting,” Daisy told her through gritted teeth. “Was that you watching us go to the island last night?” she asked Smoky.

  Smoky nodded. “Yes, Coriander wanted to see these famous cats, and I know that you all go to the island on the night of the full moon, so we lay in wait.”

  “You should have come to talk to us,” Daisy meowed.

  “Well . . .” Smoky scuffled his paws awkwardly in the grass. “We didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

  “Okay.” Daisy’s shoulders sagged, and Bramblestar could see that the visit wasn’t turning out the way she had hoped. “I guess it’s time we left.”

  “Don’t you want to see inside the barn?” Smoky asked. “You can hunt if you want.”

  Daisy didn’t look enthusiastic, but she followed Smoky and Coriander as they headed for the entrance to the barn. Bramblestar trotted just behind her. Inside, the wood-sided den was warm and musty. It was much smaller than the barn where Barley and Ravenpaw used to live near the old forest, but it smelled the same, of dust and dried grass and tempting scents of prey. Golden dust motes danced in shafts of sunlight that slanted in through holes just beneath the roof. Scuffling noises in the piles of hay showed the presence of mice, and Bramblestar’s mouth watered.

  “It’s all changed,” Daisy commented. “You used to have your nest over here.”

  “I know,” Smoky responded. “But Coriander says it’s less drafty over there.” He indicated a deep hollow in the hay with a flick of his tail.

  “Yes,” Coriander agreed. “It’s so comfortable!”

  Bramblestar saw Daisy’s claws slide out, and gave her a hasty nudge. “We really should be getting back,” he mewed.

  Daisy nodded. “Yes, there’s loads to do back in the camp.”

  “Good-bye, then.” Smoky sounded quite cheerful to let Daisy go, and Bramblestar noticed he didn’t invite her to drop in again.

  “Do be careful on your way home,” Coriander added with a gleam in her amber eyes. “The horses can be quite scary if you’re not used to them.”

  “I’m fine with horses, thanks,” Daisy snapped, whipping around and stalking out of the barn with her tail held high. Resisting a purr of amusement, Bramblestar followed her.

  On the journey back through WindClan territory, Daisy was unusually quiet.

  Bramblestar thought he should say something. “It’s always hard to go back,” he offered sympathetically.

  Daisy halted and stared at him. “I didn’t want to go back!” she protested. “Not forever. I know I belong in ThunderClan now, but I hadn’t expected things to change so much. Why didn’t I know that Floss had died? Has Smoky forgotten about her already because of Coriander? I thought he loved Floss!”

  For a moment, an image of Squirrelflight flashed into Bramblestar’s mind. She was standing in the hollow surrounded by three fluffed-up kits, trying to coax them to eat a piece of vole.

  “We want milk!” squeaked the she-cat, as black as a yew branch.

  “Not that nasty stuff,” put in the golden tabby tom, prodding the vole with one stubby paw.

  “It smells like the dirtplace,” chirped the smallest kit, whose pale gray fur blended with the cliffs behind him.

  “It does not smell like the dirtplace!” Squirrelflight scolded. She looked up and met Bramblestar’s gaze. She looked ruffled, her pelt ungroomed and her eyes clouded with exhaustion, but he had never loved her more.

  “Any cat would think I was trying to poison them!” she hissed to him.

  He blinked at her. “You’re a great mother,” he assured her. “They’ll know that one day.”

  A stone rolling out from beneath his paw jolted Bramblestar back to the present. Beside him, Daisy looked sad as she mourned the loss of her friends.

  “Nothing stays the same,” Bramblestar told her, brushing her ear with his muzzle. However much you want it to.

  CHAPTER 6

  On the day after the visit to the horseplace, the weather changed. A fierce wind lashed the trees and sent clouds scudding across the sky. The forest floor was littered with splintered branches, and Bramblestar warned all his cats to look out for signs of falling trees. He continued to keep a close watch on the ShadowClan border, but there were no more traces of trespassing.

  “Maybe they’ve learned their lesson,” he remarked as he led a patrol past the pelt-den clearing.

  “And maybe they’re just keeping quiet until we relax the watch,” Molewhisker growled with a flick of his tail.

  “Let’s enjoy the peace while it lasts,” Sandstorm suggested.

  Bramblestar murmured agreement. He headed down the stream until the patrol emerged from the trees on the lakeshore.

  Blossomfall ran ahead and sprang onto a rock at the water’s edge. She studied the smooth gray stone beneath her paws. “The lake is still rising!” she announced. “I’ve been scratching marks on this rock, and—” She broke off with a yowl as a wave rose up and engulfed the rock. As the water rolled back, it carried Blossomfall with it and she plunged into the lake. She flailed with her paws, managing to keep her head above water, but the waves buffeted her too much for her to make it back to the shore.

  “Blossomfall!” Molewhisker wailed, dashing to the water’s edge.

  “Keep back!” Bramblestar warned him. “We don’t want two of you in there.”

  “Bramblestar, over here!” Sandstorm’s voice sounded behind him.

  Turning, Bramblestar saw that she was trying to tug a tree branch out of the undergrowth at the edge of the forest, but the twigs were snagged among brambles, and she couldn’t move it.

  “Help me get this free!” she panted.

  Bramblestar raced over and grabbed the branch in his jaws. Together they managed to wrench it free. Bramblestar dragged it across the pebbles until the lake water was lapping around his paws, and shoved it out into the waves. The branch bobbed madly, and Bramblestar braced his feet among the stones to hold it steady.

  “Be careful!” Sandstorm called.

  Blossomfall’s head was still bobbing above the surface, but the end of the branch was just beyond her reach. Bramblestar could see that her long, thick fur was waterlogged and dragging her down. “Molewhisker, Sandstorm,” he rasped. “Put your weight on this end. Don’t let it move.”

  The warriors waded into the lake and gripped the branch with their front paws. Bramblestar pulled himself onto the narrow length of wood and began to work his way forward, balancing on his hind paws and digging his front claws into the branch after each step
. Waves slapped against him and with every heartbeat he expected to be torn away into the swirling water. Blossomfall bobbed a tail-length beyond the end of the branch, spluttering and thrashing as she was dragged under by the weight of her fur.

  When the branch narrowed too much to hold Bramblestar, he shuffled carefully around and held out his tail toward the drowning cat. “Blossomfall!” he yowled. “Here!”

  Blossomfall shook her head to get water out of her eyes, then made a frantic lunge toward Bramblestar. He winced as she sank her teeth into the end of his tail. The she-cat’s eyes bulged as she clamped her jaws shut. Bramblestar took a deep breath against the pain and pulled her toward him until she could grip the branch with her claws and release his tail. Drops of blood scattered into the lake and sank quickly.

  “Hold on!” Bramblestar called.

  Sandstorm and Molewhisker began to haul the branch in, dragging it up the shore until first Bramblestar and then Blossomfall managed to find a paw hold. They waded out of the lake and flopped down on the pebbles well above the waterline.

  “Thank you, Bramblestar!” Blossomfall choked, coughing up several mouthfuls of water. “I thought I was going to drown!”

  Bramblestar got up and gave his pelt a shake. “It’s too dangerous down here,” he meowed. “I’m going to order every cat to stay away from the lake until the water level goes down.”

  “Good idea!” Molewhisker agreed.

  Turning to Sandstorm, Bramblestar continued, “Will you take Blossomfall back and have Jayfeather check her out? Molewhisker and I can finish the patrol on our own.”

  “No, I’m okay,” Blossomfall objected, struggling to her paws. “I can keep going.”

  Bramblestar hesitated. I wonder if she’s trying to prove her loyalty. Then he told himself to stop second-guessing the motives of every cat who had been connected with the Dark Forest. He gave a brisk nod. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he warned her. “There’s no shame in needing to rest after what you’ve been through.”

  “I’m fine,” Blossomfall insisted. Her pelt was still wet, sticking up in spikes, but her eyes were bright and determined.