“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Lionblaze promised.
Whitewing flashed him a grateful glance, then dashed through the teeming rain after Poppyfrost.
As the last of the warriors left the soaked den, another cat raced up to Bramblestar; peering through the darkness he made out Leafpool’s pale tabby pelt.
“Jayfeather and I have spare dry bedding,” she mewed. “Where do you need it?”
“Take some to the Highledge,” Bramblestar ordered. “They’ll be short up there. And check the apprentices’ den. The nursery should have enough.”
“Okay.” Leafpool sped off again.
“Thanks, Leafpool!” Bramblestar called after her.
When all the cats had left, he and Squirrelflight headed for the nursery, but Bramblestar veered aside to check on the apprentices. When he stuck his head inside the den, he saw that all of them were awake now, squashed up tightly with their mentors.
“Are you all okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” Whitewing replied. “We could do with a bit more bedding—”
“And a bit more space,” Spiderleg added. “Lilypaw, take your tail out of my eye.”
“This is exciting!” Amberpaw squeaked, her eyes gleaming in the dim light.
“No, it isn’t!” Ivypool retorted. She was licking herself to dry off her pelt. “We’re cold and wet, and StarClan knows what the camp will look like in the morning.”
“Apprentices think everything is exciting,” Bumblestripe pointed out as he burrowed into the dry moss.
“Except finding Purdy’s ticks.” Seedpaw yawned.
“I just thought of something!” Dewpaw exclaimed. “We must be warriors now, because we’ve got warriors sleeping here, so this is the warriors’ den.”
“Yay! No more ticks!” Snowpaw yowled.
“In your dreams!” Spiderleg meowed.
Poppyfrost rolled her eyes. “Very funny. Now be quiet and go to sleep.”
Obediently the apprentices curled up, but Bramblestar could hear stifled snuffles of amusement, and see the glimmer of mischievous eyes peeping out over the tails that wrapped their noses. He drew back and spotted Leafpool scurrying across the clearing with a load of bedding. Jayfeather loomed up beside Bramblestar at the entrance to the apprentices’ den, a bundle of moss wedged between his chin and his chest, with another bundle in his jaws.
When he shoved his burden through the ferns that sheltered the den, Bumblestripe’s voice called out, “Thanks!” and there was an outraged squeak from Lilypaw.
“Hey! You buried me!”
As Jayfeather turned away again, Bramblestar halted him with a touch of his tail, then drew him out of earshot of the apprentices’ den. “Any more omens?” he meowed.
Jayfeather gestured with his tail to take in the whole camp. “Let’s see . . . wind, rain, leaking dens . . . What exactly are you looking for, Bramblestar? You should thank StarClan that no cats have been injured.”
Bramblestar twitched. Unpleasant as the storm was, he didn’t feel it was bad enough to be the terrible doom that Jayfeather had prophesied. Unless there’s worse to come. Maybe the lake . . .
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Jayfeather asked sharply.
“No,” Bramblestar replied, still unwilling to reveal the encroaching lake. “We just need to make sure our Clanmates are okay. You’d better get back to your den.”
When Jayfeather had gone, Bramblestar ran to the nursery and pushed his way in, thankful to be sheltered at last. The air inside felt still and welcoming after the chaos outside, in spite of the tang of wet fur. It was almost completely dark, but he could just make out the shapes of his Clanmates, and spotted Squirrelflight waving her tail at him.
“Over here, Bramblestar. I’ve kept a space for you.”
Bramblestar headed toward her, weaving his way with difficulty between his Clanmates, who were packed in tightly from one end of the nursery to the other.
“Hey!” Molewhisker yelped. “That’s my tail you’re treading on.”
“Sorry,” Bramblestar muttered.
Cherryfall swiped her brother across the ear. “Careful, Molewhisker. You don’t talk to our Clan leader like that!”
“It’s okay,” Bramblestar meowed. “It’s tough for all of us, squashed together like this.” He squeezed into the gap between Squirrelflight and Birchfall and wriggled into the moss, trying to get comfortable. But his pelt was still wet, and it took a while for the warmth of the nursery to penetrate through it.
Some of his Clanmates were already snoring, though the younger warriors were whispering to one another with occasional mrrows of laughter.
It’s an adventure for them, Bramblestar thought wearily. I hope it turns out to be no worse.
From somewhere at the back of the nursery he heard Purdy’s voice. “This is nothin’ compared to the storms I remember when I was a kit. . . .”
There was something soothing about the elder’s words. Nothing will stop Purdy telling his stories! The tale rumbled on as Bramblestar closed his eyes, but sleep was a long time coming. At last he fell into a doze, haunted by dreams of rising water and drowning cats, their paws stretched out helplessly as the waves swept them away.
“Bramblestar!” The voice jerked him awake, along with icy drops spattering onto his pelt.
Bramblestar opened his eyes to see Thornclaw standing over him. The warrior’s golden-brown pelt was dripping, plastered to his sides, and he was shivering violently. The first gray light of a new day was seeping into the den, but the storm hadn’t let up. Rain thundered down onto the roof of the den, and the wind still blustered through the camp.
“Bramblestar, there’s something you need to see,” Thornclaw mewed through chattering teeth.
Careful not to disturb his sleeping Clanmates, Bramblestar followed Thornclaw into the clearing, flinching as icy rain poured down on him. The floor of the hollow was awash with leaves and twigs floating on the water, while here and there a bigger branch rocked in the current with one end wedged in the mud. Up above, gaps had opened up in the line of trees, telling Bramblestar that some of them had fallen. Part of the thorn barrier had been torn away, leaving a ragged gap where the entrance had been.
“It’s going to take a lot of work to put this right,” Bramblestar meowed with a flick of his tail.
“It gets worse,” Thornclaw warned.
He led the way right up to the thorns. Staring through the gap, Bramblestar saw water surging up the slope toward them, gray and menacing. The line of waves broke and swirled as they met swift-flowing streams that had burst their banks and now crisscrossed the forest, flattening the undergrowth.
“Great StarClan!” Bramblestar gasped. “The lake has reached the camp!”
There was a tang in the air that reminded him of the sun-drown-water; the eerie sounds of lapping waves and trees groaning sent a shiver through him from ears to tail-tip.
“We need to leave,” Thornclaw meowed urgently.
Bramblestar spun around and raced back to the center of the hollow. “Cats of ThunderClan!” he yowled. “Come out now!”
For a heartbeat no cat appeared, though he could hear startled murmurs from the dens. Then Squirrelflight rushed out of the nursery. “What’s going on?”
“Go and look beyond the thorn barrier,” Bramblestar told her.
Squirrelflight sped up to the camp entrance, then halted abruptly as she saw what was outside. When she returned her face was frozen in fear, her eyes stretched wide. But her voice was steady as she asked, “What are we going to do?”
By now, cats were spilling dazedly from their makeshift nests, staring around with a mixture of fright and anger. Bramblestar splashed his way across the hollow and climbed the rocks to the Highledge. He hoped that from up there he could make himself heard above the noise of the storm. Millie and Briarlight and the other cats who had been sheltering in his den were huddled at the top of the slope, and Bramblestar had to push his way through them.
“The
lake has flooded the forest!” he yowled. “We need to leave the hollow right now!”
Screeches of disbelief came from his Clanmates. “It couldn’t have!” Rosepetal gasped. “The lake is at the bottom of the hill!”
“Not anymore,” Bramblestar meowed.
As he spoke, water began trickling through the gap in the thorns, mingling with the rainwater already there. At first it looked like nothing more than a shallow ripple, easy enough to wade through. Then there was a surge of gray-brown waves crested with yellowish foam, sloshing through the thorns. When the waves retreated, they swept most of the barrier away, leaving room for more water to rush in, deeper and swirling.
For a moment all the cats stared at it in horrified silence, broken by yelps of panic as they realized that the unthinkable was happening.
“Lilypaw! Seedpaw! Over here!” their father, Brackenfur, called, while Cloudtail and Brightheart rounded up the younger apprentices.
“Bramblestar!” Millie was staring at him, her eyes wide with terror and her claws raking frenziedly at the wet stone of the Highledge. “What about Briarlight? She won’t be able to swim if the hollow floods!”
“No cat will have to swim,” Bramblestar reassured her. “There are other ways out of the hollow.”
Leafpool, who was standing outside the medicine cats’ den, waved her tail to attract every cat’s attention. “Follow me!” she ordered.
Bramblestar silently thanked StarClan for the steep, twisting path that led up the cliff from the bushes near the entrance to the medicine cats’ den. It would be a hard climb, he knew, but it was their only escape route from the rising water. He turned to face the cats clustered on the ledge behind him. “Graystripe,” he ordered, “get the others to help you bring Briarlight down. I’ll see you at the bottom of the path.”
Graystripe crouched down while Dustpelt and Sandstorm began lifting Briarlight onto his back. Bramblestar left them to it and ran down the tumbled rocks to join Leafpool.
By now most of the Clan was clustered around the medicine cats’ den, while Leafpool and Squirrelflight forced a way through the bushes, revealing the first few tail-lengths of the path. The cats crowded into the space behind the thorns, which was slightly sheltered from the force of the storm.
“Wow!” Snowpaw squeaked, tipping back her head to follow the path up the cliff. “How did Leafpool know about this?”
Brightheart gave her daughter a flick around the ear. “Medicine cats know a lot of things,” she mewed.
Bramblestar swallowed hard as he gazed up at the path. It was a tricky scramble at the best of times, but it was going to be treacherous in this pouring rain and fierce wind. What if a cat falls? They could break their neck, and it would be my fault. He shook himself to clear his head. I’m the leader of this Clan. It’s my responsibility to protect these cats, and there’s no other way to leave the hollow.
“Brackenfur, Spiderleg,” he meowed briskly. “You go up first. Make sure we can still get out that way. And for StarClan’s sake, be careful.”
With a grim nod, Brackenfur sprang up the path with Spiderleg hard on his paws. Bramblestar narrowed his eyes against the driving rain, trying to watch their progress. From time to time he lost sight of them as they vanished behind bushes or jutting rocks, but at last he made out Brackenfur’s light brown pelt at the edge of the cliff top.
“It’s okay!” Brackenfur yowled. “But the path is very slippery. . . . Don’t try to rush it.”
“Right, let’s get moving,” Bramblestar ordered. “Daisy, you next.” He beckoned with his tail to the shivering she-cat, whose long, cream-colored pelt hung like rats’ tails around her. “Lionblaze, follow her up and make sure she’s okay.”
“I’ll be fine,” Daisy mewed. “I’ve done it before.”
Bramblestar remembered how Squirrelflight, Brightheart, and Cloudtail had climbed the path with Daisy and her kits to rescue them from the badger attack, so many moons ago. Now—in spite of how he had longed for a nursery full of kits—he was thankful that there were no tiny cats who had to be carried out of the hollow. Moving Briarlight will be hard enough. . . .
Once Lionblaze and Daisy were halfway up, Bramblestar sent the apprentices, each with their mentor to keep an eye on them. He sent Cloudtail with Amberpaw, since Spiderleg had already made the climb. The young cats showed no fear at all, sure-pawed and nimble as they followed the narrow path back and forth across the cliff face.
“Dovewing next!” Bramblestar called.
The pale gray she-cat splashed forward through the puddles, her ears twitching. “I’m not sure I can do this,” she muttered. “I keep looking for stuff that isn’t here, and I can’t see what’s right under my nose.”
“Of course you can do it.” Her father, Birchfall, padded up to her. “I’ll be right behind you. I won’t let you fall.”
Taking a deep breath, Dovewing began to climb. At first she was slow and nervous, but gradually she seemed more sure of herself and her pace quickened.
“Take your time,” Birchfall urged. “This isn’t a race!”
“Now you, Thornclaw,” Bramblestar meowed. “Once you get to the top, find a bush or something to take shelter. You’ve had a terrible night.”
Thornclaw gave his Clan leader a brief nod. “I’ve had better.”
By now the daylight had strengthened a little, but the sky was covered with heaving gray clouds. There would be no sunrise. The rain still pelted down, sweeping in waves across the hollow as it was buffeted by the wind.
Peering upward, Bramblestar could see a growing crowd of cats at the top of the cliff. None of them had lost their footing so far. Maybe we’ll all make it. “Molewhisker and Cherryfall, off you go,” he ordered.
Cherryfall set off first, scrambling confidently from one paw hold to the next, disappearing into the driving rain, but when Molewhisker tried to follow he halted a few tail-lengths above the ground, his ears flat and his eyes staring in terror.
“I can’t do it!” he wailed. “I’m going to fall!”
Bramblestar’s heart began to thud. “You’ll be fine!” he called up to the panicking young tom. “All the other cats have done it.”
“I’m slipping! Help!”
“Mouse dung!” Bramblestar muttered.
He was about to start climbing to give Molewhisker a boost from below, when he spotted Lionblaze making his way carefully down from the top of the cliff.
“Hang on, Molewhisker!” the warrior yowled. “I’m coming! You see that rock just there . . . the flat one?” Lionblaze slithered to a halt, leaning into the cliff face with his hind paws gripping the loose stones. “Put your forepaw there. Now bring your hind paws up to that crack. That’s right. . . .”
Very slowly Molewhisker started to move. The two cats climbed together until Bramblestar lost sight of them, and Lionblaze’s reassuring tones were lost in the howl of the wind.
Brightheart and Cinderheart shuffled up to the end of the path. “We’re ready, Bramblestar,” Brightheart mewed.
“Wait a moment,” Bramblestar warned. “I want to be sure Molewhisker gets up safely. If he falls, he could knock any cat below him off the path.”
As he finished speaking, he heard Lionblaze again, yowling from the cliff top. “We made it!”
Thank StarClan, Bramblestar thought. And thank Lionblaze! “Okay, off you go,” he told the two she-cats.
They set off well, taking small, cautious steps and keeping their bodies low and close to the rock. Then a gust of wind caught Brightheart, who was climbing a fox-length behind Cinderheart. She slipped and hung off the edge of the path, her paws scrabbling wildly, letting out a screech of terror. “Help!”
Bramblestar bunched his muscles to leap up to her, but before he could move Cinderheart had turned back, her claws clinging to the rock. She fastened her teeth in Brightheart’s scruff and hauled her back onto the path.
Brightheart crouched, trembling. “Thanks, Cinderheart,” she gasped.
“Are you okay
?” Cinderheart mewed. “Can you keep going?”
Brightheart nodded. “Let’s go.”
As Bramblestar watched them struggling slowly up the cliff face, he felt water washing against his belly fur and he realized that the flood in the hollow was getting deeper. Time is running out! Glancing around at the cats who were left, he saw that Graystripe had arrived with Briarlight and the other cats who had spent the night in the den on the Highledge. Purdy had joined them. The two medicine cats were standing near their den, while Berrynose and Mousewhisker were closer to the bottom of the path, their claws working impatiently as they waited for their turn. Rosepetal was hanging farther back with Squirrelflight.
Bramblestar gave a nod to the two toms, who set off with quick, steady paw steps. For the first few tail-lengths he kept an eye on Berrynose, knowing that the cream-colored warrior tended to be overconfident, but both he and his brother vanished up the path with no trouble.
Squirrelflight stepped up to him. “Rosepetal’s nervous,” she murmured in Bramblestar’s ear. “I’ll go up with her, if that’s okay.”
Bramblestar gave his deputy a grateful nod. “Please. I know she’ll be safe with you.”
“Come on,” Squirrelflight meowed, giving Rosepetal a friendly shove. “You chase squirrels up trees all the time. This is no different.”
Rosepetal nodded, but she clearly wasn’t convinced. “I’ll try,” she whispered.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Squirrelflight promised. “I won’t let you fall.”
Just do it now, not tomorrow, Bramblestar thought, conscious of the rising water.
Squirrelflight nudged Rosepetal over to the path and they began to climb. To Bramblestar they seemed to be going agonizingly slow, but the she-cats steadily gained height, and to his relief Rosepetal didn’t freeze with terror like Molewhisker. Bramblestar noticed that Lionblaze and Cinderheart were standing at the top of the path, helping their Clanmates up the last few paw steps. Thank StarClan for them, he thought. And for all the cats who’re helping. Where would we be without them?