Bramblestar’s Storm

Chapter 11

Bramblestar froze. Behind him, his Clanmates bristled.

“What’s that?” Thornclaw spat.

“It’s coming from over there,” Dovewing mewed, pointing with her tail farther up the flooded Thunderpath. At Bramblestar’s startled look she hissed under her breath, “I can hear the same as you! I’m not deaf!”

“It’s a she-cat, and she sounds terrified.” Graystripe was staring in the direction of the sound. “We have to go help her.”

“I don’t know…” Bramblestar stalled, anxiety rising inside him like a flood. “With all this water, it could be dangerous.” He knew that he had to put his Clanmates’ safety above rescuing a strange cat.

“We should at least see if we can spot the cat,” Dovewing suggested. Her fur was fluffed up with anxiety and her blue eyes were huge.

The Twoleg fence where they were standing led right up to the wall of the den. Ivy covered the den wall.

“If we climb that,” Graystripe meowed, angling his ears toward the densely growing green leaves, “we should get a better view.”

Thornclaw heaved a sigh. “You mean, go right up to a Twoleg den that might be full of Twolegs, and risk falling into the flood, all for a cat we haven’t even set eyes on?”

Graystripe looked at his Clanmate with a hint of scorn. “You could show a little compassion,” he growled.

The fur on Thornclaw’s neck began to rise, and Bramblestar meowed quickly, “We’ll climb the ivy and see if we can find the cat, without putting ourselves in unnecessary danger. Come on.”

He waded along the top of the fence until he could claw his way up the ivy. His belly churned as Thornclaw’s words echoed in his mind. The golden-brown warrior was right. We don’t know for sure that all the Twolegs have gone. But Twolegs were noisy creatures, and now their surroundings were so quiet that Bramblestar could hear every lap and gurgle of the water, every wail from the she-cat in trouble.

“Help! Is anyone there?”

Saving his breath for the climb, Bramblestar reached the upper level of the Twoleg den and scrambled along the ivy until he reached the corner. The cat’s cries were even louder here. Bramblestar looked down and almost lost his grip in astonishment. Just around a bend in the flooded Thunderpath, a small white cat with black patches on her ears and belly was crouching in a round, hollow object made of wood. The object bobbed in the water, stuck in the branches of a submerged bush.

“Hi! Up here!” Bramblestar called.

The cat spun around, making her little sanctuary rock so wildly that it almost tipped over. “You found me!” she gasped, tipping back her head to look up. “Please help! Did you get left behind, too?”

Bramblestar opened his jaws to reply, but before he could speak, the she-cat continued in a rush. “When the lake flooded, my housefolk took Brandy and Polly, but they couldn’t find me.” She glanced down for a moment, and her voice grew quieter. “I was asleep under their bed. I didn’t hear them calling until it was too late.” With a shake, she lifted her head again. “Then the water started coming into the house so fast! I climbed into this tub to keep dry. I didn’t realize it would float away!”

“Calm down,” Bramblestar meowed when the she-cat paused for breath. “We’ll figure out a way to get to you.”

Now that he had found the cat, there was no way he could leave her floating helplessly in the flood. But she was a long way out and surrounded by deep water. Can we swim that far? Bramblestar wondered. And if we do reach her, how do we get her to safety?

“I’ve got an idea,” Thornclaw mewed, with a light touch of his tail on his leader’s shoulder.

“Okay, spit it out,” Bramblestar told him, tensing as he felt the ivy stem where he was clinging start to tear away from the wall of the den. “We can’t stay here.”

“See those little ledges on the den walls?” Thornclaw nodded toward them. “We might be able to use them to cross from den to den.”

“Those are windowsills,” Graystripe meowed unexpectedly.

Every cat stared at him. “Huh?” Thornclaw grunted.

“Don’t forget that I once lived in a Twoleg den,” Graystripe told them. “After I was captured when the Twolegs were cutting down the old forest. Twolegs sleep in nests on this upper level,” he went on. “These gaps in the wall are called windows. The Twolegs look through them, but they don’t go in and out of them.”

“So what are they for?” Dovewing asked.

“Well, they let light into the den.”

“And I expect the Twolegs use them to watch for predators,” Thornclaw added. “That’s a pretty neat idea, for Twolegs.”

Bramblestar cleared his throat. “If you’ve all finished discussing Twoleg dens,” he mewed, “we have a cat to rescue. Thornclaw,” he continued, “I think your idea could work, but it’s going to be tricky. Maybe you and I should try it alone.”

“No way!” Dovewing exclaimed.

Graystripe lashed his tail. “Forget it, Bramblestar. We’re coming with you.”

Bramblestar was warmed by the loyalty of his Clanmates. “Okay,” he purred. “But for StarClan’s sake, be careful.”

Taking the lead, he clambered through the ivy until he reached the first windowsill. He pulled himself onto it, gritting his teeth; even though the windowsill was wider than a tree branch, it was angled slightly downward, so he was afraid he was going to slip. He dug his claws hard into the wood and crept forward with his heart thudding.

At the end of the windowsill he had to leap across a gap of bare red stone to reach the next one. It’s just like chasing a squirrel in the trees, he told himself, bunching his muscles and launching himself into the air. He landed awkwardly, one hind paw waving in the air, and took a moment to steady himself.

A glance over his shoulder told himself that the others were following safely. Confidence began to seep back into his paws, only to drain away again when he saw that the gap between this windowsill and the next was much wider.

That’s because the next one belongs to the next den, Bramblestar realized. But how else can we reach it? It looks like it’s too far to leap, but we have to try.

He pushed off with all his strength, reaching out with his forepaws. His belly hit the windowsill, and he had to scrabble frantically with his hind paws to pull himself up. And we have to keep on doing this, he thought with a tremor of fear in his belly. Surely one of us will fall? But his Clanmates followed him without any mishaps, even managing to speed up as they got used to the hazards.

When Bramblestar reached the fourth windowsill he was able to look down and get a clearer view of the cat in the tub. Her blue eyes stared up at him, filled with terror.

“Please hurry!” she begged. “There’s water coming into the tub. I’m getting wetter!”

“We’re coming!” Bramblestar called as he readied himself for the next jump.

“Bramblestar, stop!” Graystripe yowled.

Bramblestar froze. “What’s the matter?”

“Look at the next windowsill. Can’t you see that the wood is rotten? It won’t bear our weight.”

Following the gray warrior’s gaze, Bramblestar saw that the end of the windowsill was jagged and loose as if it was crumbling away. “Just like a rotten branch…” he murmured. “So what do we do now?” he asked, not expecting an answer.

“We’ll have to go into the den and find a way out on the lower level,” Graystripe meowed.

Thornclaw flattened his ears. “I’m not setting paw in there!” he exclaimed. “Have you got bees in your brain?”

Dovewing’s whiskers flickered. “Isn’t there another way?”

Graystripe shook his head. “We don’t have a choice if we want to help the she-cat,” he insisted, keeping his voice low.

The she-cat was already beginning to panic. “What’s happening?” she demanded. “Why have you stopped?”

Bramblestar glanced down at her. “It’s okay!” he called.

But he wasn’t sure that was true. The window where he and his Clanmates were crouching was blocked by hard, transparent stuff, and he couldn’t see any way of getting past it. He pressed it with one paw, then butted his head against it, but it held fast.

“Are you trying to get in?” the she-cat asked. “It’s easy! My friend Parsnip lives there, and the windows open if you press them at the top.”

Bramblestar glanced at Graystripe. “Worth a try, I suppose.”

Stretching his forepaws as high as they would go, he thrust at the slippery, transparent window. The bottom swung out toward him, catching him in the belly, and he let out a startled yowl as he felt his hind paws slipping. Dovewing sank her teeth into his scruff, steadying him until he could recover his balance.

“Thanks!” he gasped. Peering through the gap that had opened up at the bottom of the window, he added, “Graystripe, you’d better lead the way.”

The gray warrior crawled through the gap, flattening his body as if he were creeping up on prey. There was another windowsill inside the nest; Graystripe hesitated there for a moment, then jumped down. Dovewing followed him, but Thornclaw took a pace back, his lips curling as if he had just smelled crow-food.

“I don’t like it,” he muttered.

“I’m not asking you to like it,” Bramblestar mewed.

Thornclaw puffed out his breath. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

While his Clanmate was scrambling through the gap, Bramblestar looked back and called out to the she-cat in the tub. “We’ll be with you in a few heartbeats!”

Inside the den, the scent of Twolegs wreathed around Bramblestar, and every hair on his pelt stood on end. All his instincts were telling him to run, but there was nowhere to run to. Solid white walls loomed all around, trapping him. Then he realized that all the scents were stale, and he managed to relax a little.

What a lot of stuff the Twolegs have in their dens! he thought as he glanced around. The floor was covered in a layer of dense green tufts that Bramblestar thought was grass, until he rubbed his paws against it and realized it was some kind of Twoleg pelt. More soft pelts lay scattered on top of it, and on top of a large, flat object that stood against one wall. There were big structures made out of wood, with hard, straight lines, not the soft contours of real trees.

“This is a bedroom,” Graystripe announced. Meeting blank stares from the other three cats, he added, “The nest where the Twolegs sleep.”

“Fascinating,” Thornclaw muttered.

“Yes. Graystripe, can we just keep going?” Bramblestar meowed.

Graystripe nodded and led the way toward a gap in the den wall. As Bramblestar padded after him he realized how soft the pelts were against his paws. This would be a good place for cats to sleep too, he thought, provided there weren’t any Twolegs.

Following Graystripe out of the sleeping den, Bramblestar and his Clanmates slipped silently alongside the wall until they reached an uneven slope leading downward.

“This reminds me of the abandoned Twoleg den,” Bramblestar remarked.

“They call it stairs,” Graystripe informed him.

“You never told us any of this before,” Dovewing mewed as they began to descend the slope. “It’s really interesting.”

Graystripe snorted. “We’re Clan cats, not kittypets,” he reminded her. “How they live has nothing to do with us.”

Water was lapping at the bottom of the slope, and Bramblestar waved his tail for Graystripe to step back and let him go ahead. There were more gaps in the den walls, and at first he didn’t know which one would lead to the outside. Then he sensed a flow of cooler air coming from one of the gaps, and heard the shriek of the she-cat from that direction. “Where have you gone?”

Cautiously Bramblestar stepped down into the water, wincing at the cold, wet touch on his fur. At first it was shallow enough to wade, but as he stepped through the gap the ground suddenly gave way beneath his paws, and he found himself floundering, thrashing his paws until he managed to climb onto something solid.

“There’s another step just there, I think,” Graystripe mewed helpfully.

“Whatever.” Bramblestar gave his pelt a disgusted shake. “Jump from the top to this… thing I’m standing on,” he instructed.

“It’s a chair,” Graystripe told him. “And that big, flat thing over there is a table. If you jump up there, Bramblestar, there’ll be room for the next cat.”

“Good idea,” Bramblestar responded. “Thank StarClan you know a bit about these Twoleg places, Graystripe.”

“I’ll still be glad to get out of here,” the gray warrior grumbled.

Soon all four cats were standing on the table. More chairs were scattered around, as if the flood had carried them from their proper places. One of them was wedged by the opening that led outside, holding back the piece of wood that the Twolegs had used to block the gap.

Two jumps brought Bramblestar to this chair, and at last he was able to see outside. A fence ran around the garden and joined onto the den not far from where Bramblestar was standing. A few fox-lengths away a monster was crouching, with water lapping halfway up its shiny blue sides. Between Bramblestar and the monster was the tub, floating very low in the water now. The black-and-white she-cat was peering anxiously over the side.

“Please hurry!” she wailed. “The tub is sinking!”

Bramblestar turned to his Clanmates. “We’ll have to leap from here to the fence,” he told them. “It’s an awkward angle, but we should be able to manage it.”

“How are we going to get the cat out of there?” Dovewing asked as she landed neatly on the chair beside him.

Bramblestar wasn’t sure. Maybe the tub will bump up against the fence, and she can climb out of it. “Just go,” he meowed.

Dovewing obeyed, reaching the fence with Graystripe and Thornclaw just behind her. But when Bramblestar tried to follow he misjudged the jump because he was trying to avoid his Clanmates, who were crowded together along the fence-top. His claws raked the wood of the fence, but he couldn’t get a grip on it. A heartbeat later he plunged into icy water. His yowl of alarm was cut off as the flood closed over his head.

Bramblestar flailed his legs desperately, feeling the cold sink deep into his pelt. His chest ached with the need to breathe. It seemed like a whole season before his head broke the surface. Gasping for air, he glanced around, but at first he could see nothing but the tossing water.

“Over here!” the kittypet yowled. “Hurry!”

Bramblestar splashed in a circle until he caught sight of the tub, only a few tail-lengths away from him. It had floated away from the fence. Great StarClan! I hope I can move it!

Struggling to keep his head above the surface, Bramblestar thrashed his way over to the tub and started to push. It was sluggish, hard to move, because by now most of it was under the water. The black-and-white she-cat propped her forepaws on the rim, her terrified gaze fixed on Bramblestar. He didn’t have enough breath or strength to reassure her.

The tub was closer to the monster than the fence, so Bramblestar headed that way. At last he felt the tub bump gently against the shiny blue side. “Climb out!” he choked.

The she-cat floundered through the water that by now was filling the tub, and clawed her way onto the top of the monster. Bramblestar followed her, managed to give her a boost upward, then hauled himself to safety and flopped down on the monster’s back. Hearing a gurgle from below, he looked down to see the tub vanish under the surface of the water. The she-cat was watching it too.

“I could have been in that!” she gasped. “You saved me!”

“Not exactly,” Bramblestar grunted, waving his tail to indicate the silver water all around them.

“But you did!” the she-cat insisted. “Thank you! My name’s Minty. What’s yours?”

“I’m Bramblestar.” He angled his ears toward the other cats, who were approaching along the fence. “Those are Graystripe, Dovewing, and Thornclaw.”

“What weird names!” Minty mewed, wrinkling her nose.

Bramblestar didn’t comment. When his Clanmates jumped down onto the monster’s back, he stood up and shook the water from his pelt. “What do we do with this kittypet now?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t see why we have to do anything,” Thornclaw meowed. “We’ve saved her life. What she does next is up to her.”

“You can’t leave me here!” Minty wailed. “My housefolk and my littermates have gone. What will I eat?”

Fish, with all this water, Bramblestar was strongly tempted to answer, but he stopped himself. It’s not her fault she’s so helpless.

“We can’t leave her here,” Dovewing whispered. “She’ll starve or freeze. She’s a kittypet; they can’t look after themselves.”

“Can I come home with you?” Minty begged, fixing a wide-eyed blue gaze on Bramblestar. “Where do your housefolk live? Did their houses escape the flood?”

Bramblestar exchanged a glance with Graystripe. “We don’t live with Twolegs,” he explained. “We’re wild cats, from the Clans by the lake.”

Minty’s eyes stretched even wider. “Wow, I’ve heard of them!” she exclaimed. “I mean, you. But you’re supposed to be dangerous. You eat bones and kill trespassers!”

Bramblestar sighed. “We really need to stop these rumors. We won’t eat you, we promise,” he continued. “We don’t eat cats. Just mice and birds and squirrels, just like you.”

Minty uttered a little shriek and looked as if she was going to pass out. “I don’t eat those!” She gave her tail a flick. “I don’t think I want to come with you after all.”

Thornclaw shrugged, his whiskers twitching. “Okay. Stay put. Your choice.”

Minty hesitated. “Why don’t you stay here?” she suggested after a moment. “The house is really comfortable, and there must be some of my food in the kitchen.”

“No, that’s impossible,” Bramblestar meowed. “Our Clanmates need us.”

“There are more of you?” Minty squealed. Her tail drooped. “I don’t know where my housefolk keep my food. It’s probably ruined by the water anyway.” She put her head on one side, thinking, then announced, “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

“You’re not doing us any favors,” Dovewing muttered. “Don’t act like we’re begging you to come.”

If Minty heard the comment, she didn’t react to it. She stared at Bramblestar. “You promise the other cats won’t eat me?”

“Oh, no,” meowed Thornclaw. “There’s not enough meat on you to be a decent meal.”

Minty squeaked, and Bramblestar tapped Thornclaw with his tail. “Don’t torment her. Minty, you won’t be eaten. But we’ve got a long way to go, so you need to be prepared for a difficult journey.”

Minty shrugged. “It won’t be difficult for me. I go outside every day.”

Bramblestar blinked. That’s not exactly forest training, but I guess it will have to do. He turned to the fence. “Leap up there,” he encouraged Minty, “and we’ll follow.”

Minty peered up at the fence. “It’s awfully high,” she mewed.

“For StarClan’s sake!” Thornclaw spat. “Have you never climbed a fence before?”

“Of course I have!” Minty retorted, stung. “It’s just that… Well, I used to climb up by the creeper there.” She pointed with her tail over to the other side of the enclosed space, where a plant with thick, glossy leaves was growing up the fence.

“Well, you can swim over to the creeper, or jump up here,” Dovewing told her.

Minty blinked uncertainly. “You’ll help me, won’t you?” she asked Bramblestar.

“We’ll all help,” Bramblestar promised. “Dovewing, you hop onto the fence and grab Minty when she jumps.”

“Okay.” Dovewing bunched her hindquarters and propelled herself onto the fence in a graceful bound. Bramblestar suspected she was showing off.

“Come on,” he mewed to Minty. “You can stand on me to get a bit nearer if you like.” He crouched at the side of the monster nearest the fence and winced as the kittypet dug her claws into his back to heave herself onto his shoulders. Bramblestar forced himself to take her weight and stand straight, lifting her as high as he could. “Now jump!”

He felt Minty’s paws scuffling for balance, then a vigorous shove as she sprang upward. Shaking his pelt, he looked up to see her clawing frantically at the wood, while Dovewing leaned down and grabbed her by the scruff. A moment later she stood beside Dovewing on the fence.

“Great,” Thornclaw growled. “Now can we get moving?”

Bramblestar let Graystripe lead the way along the fence-top while he brought up the rear, just behind Minty. He wanted to be close enough to help her if she slipped. But to Bramblestar’s surprise she trotted along more confidently than the Clan cats, not at all fazed by the narrowness of the fence. Of course, she must have done this often, visiting her friends in the other dens.

When they reached the corner of the fence and Graystripe turned toward the Thunderpath, Minty halted and stared at the vast stretch of flooded ground. “There’s so much water!” she exclaimed. “Parsnip and his housefolk are gone, and my housefolk, and all the housefolk and the cats! I’m the only one left!” She sounded lost and small, as if she hadn’t realized the extent of the disaster until now.

Graystripe glanced over his shoulder at her. “It’ll be okay,” he comforted her. “They’ll come back and look for you when the flood goes down.”

Minty nodded, but Bramblestar wasn’t sure whether she believed him.

Finally they arrived at the end of the fence where they had first heard Minty’s cries, opposite the drowned monster on the Thunderpath. Here the water still reached halfway up their legs, and Minty was starting to look scared again.

“We can’t go any farther,” she mewed.

“Yes, it’s fine,” Bramblestar told her. “We have to swim over to where you can see that drowned monster, then get onto the fence, and that takes us to dry ground.”

Minty turned to him with her blue eyes wider than ever. “Swim?”

Thornclaw let out a hiss of annoyance. “Don’t tell me you can’t swim!”

“I don’t know,” Minty replied. “I’ve never tried.”

Bramblestar took a deep breath. “Graystripe, you go first. Dovewing, swim on that side of Minty, and I’ll swim on this side. Thornclaw, follow us. Minty, I promise we’ll get you across, okay?”

“Okay… I guess.”

Graystripe launched himself into the water, powering toward the monster with strong sweeps of his paws. Minty clung to the fence until Dovewing gave her a shove. She plopped into the water with a startled squeak. With Bramblestar on one side and Dovewing on the other, the kittypet splashed furiously, wasting far too much effort, but somehow she managed to propel herself forward.

“Hey, I can swi—” she squealed. The last word was cut off as water slopped into her mouth. She started spluttering, and Bramblestar steadied her with a shoulder underneath her until she caught her breath.

Bramblestar knew that he was getting tired, and guessed that his Clanmates felt the same. The swim to the drowned monster seemed twice as far as it had on the way out. If we hadn’t stopped to help Minty, we’d be back on our own territory by now. He was exhausted by the time they stood safely on ShadowClan territory. It was an effort to make his paws move along the waterline, beside the drowned pines.

“Is this where you live?” Minty asked, and added politely, “It’s… er… very nice.”

“No, this is where ShadowClan lives,” Graystripe told her. “We’re ThunderClan.” He waved his tail toward the other side of the lake. “We live over there.”

“What?” Minty screeched. “I can’t walk that far! My legs will fall off!”

Bramblestar looked at her. “You’d better hang on to them,” he teased her. “Or Thornclaw might find he has a taste for kittypets after all.”

Minty let out a yelp and raced ahead, glancing back over her shoulder at Thornclaw with a look of terror in her eyes.

“What did you say that for?” Thornclaw looked bemused. “When did I ever eat kittypets?”

“Just show your fangs,” Dovewing muttered. “At least she’s moving!”

Minty waited for them to catch up, though she stayed as far from Thornclaw as possible, and padded beside the Clan cats as they headed toward the open stretch of grass.

“How many cats live by the lake?” she asked. “Do you all live together? And do you really eat mice and squirrels and yucky stuff like that?”

“I don’t know exactly how many cats there are,” Bramblestar replied. “Lots. Each Clan has its own camp, where they live together. And yes, we catch our own prey and eat it. You will too, while you’re staying with us.”

Minty shuddered. “Never!”

Bramblestar exchanged a glance with Thornclaw, guessing that the golden-brown warrior was thinking the same thing. Wait until she gets hungry!

“It’s really dark under these trees, isn’t it?” Minty chattered on. “I wouldn’t like living here. Is it dark in your territory, too?”

Graystripe shook his head. “ThunderClan territory is more open than this.”

“I can’t wait to see it!” Minty mewed with an excited little skip. “Ooh, look, a squirrel! Are you going to catch it?”

“No,” Bramblestar told her. “We’re allowed to cross ShadowClan territory, but not to take prey here. The ShadowClan cats would be furious.”

Minty watched the squirrel dart across the gap between two pines and scramble up into the branches. “Will we meet any ShadowClan cats?” she asked. “I wish we could. It’d be fun!”

Dovewing rolled her eyes. “Trust me, it wouldn’t. Why don’t you save your breath for walking?”

Minty gave her an injured look, but said nothing more.

Bramblestar was thankful that so far they hadn’t met any ShadowClan patrols. His pelt was prickling with apprehension at the thought of bringing a kittypet into his Clan. ThunderClan doesn’t need more cats. It needs to strengthen and protect the ones it has.

But Bramblestar couldn’t have left Minty to starve. He padded over to the kittypet, who was nervously eyeing a fallen tree in her path.

“Just hop on top of it,” he meowed, “and then jump down on the other side. It’s not that high.”

He leaped up to show her, and grabbed her to help her up the last couple of mouse-lengths as her hind paws scuffled against the trunk.

I just hope my Clanmates understand why I’ve brought a stranger home with me.

All four ThunderClan cats let out a sigh of relief as they crossed the border into ThunderClan territory. Their scent marks were faint against the smell of mud and water, but there were no fresh ShadowClan scents. Following the edge of the flood, Thornclaw led them up the slope until they were just below the ridge. It was hard going, pushing through the soaking undergrowth on paws that were tired and heavy as stone.

“We’re on ThunderClan territory now,” Graystripe told Minty, “and we’re just going past the flooded camp.” He veered down the slope and vanished into a clump of thorns.

Bramblestar followed, nodding to Minty. “Come on, you can see where our home used to be.”

He waited for her to join him at the edge of the cliff. Bramblestar felt his heart beat faster as he stared into the hollow. The sheer gray cliffs now encircled nothing but a pool of black, swirling water. He pictured the dens, the fresh-kill pile, the half stump where the apprentices liked to play. Were they all still there, under the water?

Or had every trace of ThunderClan been washed away?