Bramblestar’s Storm

Chapter 26

The last of the sun had gone and shadows were gathering fast before Frankie stirred, lowering his gaze from the stars. “What will happen to me now?” he mewed sadly. “My housefolk have left, and my home is still full of water. Everything has gone.”

“But the water is going down.” Bramblestar tried to sound encouraging. “Your Twolegs will come back.”

“But what will I do right now?” Frankie wailed.

“Come back to ThunderClan.” The answer was so obvious to Bramblestar that he found it hard to understand why Frankie was asking the question. “We’ll look after you until you can go home.”

Frankie let out a sigh. “Thank you.”

Bramblestar led the way back to ThunderClan territory, retracing their previous route. Night had fallen by the time they reached the woods above ShadowClan, and Bramblestar felt his pelt rise at the eerie silence. The scents of ShadowClan warriors wreathed around him from every side, as if they had been hunting regularly beyond their border since ThunderClan had dealt with Victor and the other kittypets.

“If we spot a ShadowClan patrol, climb a tree, quick as you can,” he murmured to Frankie. “I know we’re not actually trespassing, but I don’t want them to catch us.”

When they reached the forest above ThunderClan, Bramblestar relaxed briefly, only to stiffen again as he picked up a trace of the bitter scent of badger. “Let’s get a move on,” he meowed, not telling Frankie anything about his fears. “I can’t wait to get back to my nest.”

A quarter moon was shining down on the clearing when Bramblestar and Frankie returned to the makeshift camp. Squirrelflight was stalking up and down in front of the tunnel entrance, her tail-tip flicking and her whiskers quivering.

“Bramblestar!” she exclaimed as the two cats limped out of the undergrowth. “Where have you been?”

At the sound of her voice, Minty, Jessy, and Millie erupted out of the tunnel.

“Are you two mouse-brained?” Millie demanded as she shot across the clearing. “Do you know how worried we’ve been? Do you care?”

“Great StarClan, look at you!” Squirrelflight gasped.

Bramblestar realized how they must appear: thorn-scratched and exhausted, their fur soaked and muddy, stinking of death. “It’s been a long day,” he muttered.

Millie’s anger died as she reached Frankie and Bramblestar and saw them more clearly. “What happened?” she hissed. “Are you hurt?”

“Did you fight a badger?” Minty asked, bounding up and giving Frankie’s filthy pelt a shocked sniff.

“Benny’s dead,” Frankie responded wearily.

Minty’s eyes stretched wide. “Oh, no! How?”

While Bramblestar gave a brief account of their search and the discovery of Benny’s body inside the drain, more of his Clanmates emerged from the tunnel. Murmurs of sympathy arose from them as they listened.

“We buried him on a little hill overlooking the lake,” Bramblestar finished.

“I’m sure StarClan was with him at the end,” Leafpool mewed, padding up to Frankie and giving his ear a comforting lick.

“I hope so.” Frankie’s voice was bleak. “Because I wasn’t.”

“You did all you could,” Millie told him. “At least now you know what happened.”

“Yes,” Jessy added. “You don’t have to worry anymore, and you can grieve for him properly.”

Frankie nodded, gazing around at the group of cats who surrounded him with looks of sadness, but he said nothing.

“You should have told us where you were going,” Cherryfall meowed. “We could have come with you. I’d have helped you find him.”

“Come on.” Leafpool gave Frankie a gentle shove. “Into the tunnel, and I’ll take a look at you. You can have some thyme leaves for the shock.”

“I’ll bring you some fresh-kill,” Minty offered as the medicine cat led Frankie away.

Once Frankie had gone, Jessy padded over to Bramblestar. “Thank you,” she mewed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Bramblestar dipped his head toward her. “My cats never have to suffer alone,” he told her.

Jessy’s ears flicked up. “Is that true?” she pressed. “That we are your cats?”

“For now,” Bramblestar replied, feeling a purr rise in his throat.

Jessy touched her nose to his. “Good.”

Bramblestar opened his eyes to see dawn light seeping into the tunnel. For a moment he felt as if he couldn’t move a muscle. Weariness from the long trek the day before, and the struggle to free Benny’s body from the drain, weighed down his limbs. He staggered to his paws and stumbled out of his nest, still half-asleep.

“Hey, that’s my tail!” Jessy’s voice meowed.

Bramblestar turned to see that the brown she-cat had dragged her nest next to to his, and was looking up at him with amusement in her golden eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay. How do you feel? You had a tough time yesterday.”

“I’ll be fine.” Bramblestar shook each leg in turn, his muscles protesting, then arched his back in a long stretch. “I need to get moving, that’s all.”

Jessy followed him as he headed along the tunnel and into the cool dawn. The sky was a pale, milky blue with small puffs of white cloud. No rain today, Bramblestar thought gratefully.

In the clearing most of his cats were milling around Squirrelflight, who was organizing patrols. “Cloudtail,” she was mewing, “you can go and check the border with WindClan. Take—” She broke off as she spotted Bramblestar and Jessy emerge from the tunnel, held Bramblestar’s gaze for a heartbeat, and then turned back to Cloudtail. “Take Mousewhisker, Berrynose, and Birchfall with you,” she finished.

As Cloudtail gathered his patrol together, Bramblestar padded up to his deputy. “I want to lead a patrol out beyond the top border,” he announced.

“I’ll come!” Jessy offered.

Bramblestar was acutely conscious of his Clanmates exchanging glances. “Sure,” he replied.

“Spiderleg and Amberpaw as well?” Squirrelflight suggested.

“Of course,” Bramblestar agreed, wanting to be off as soon as possible. “Let’s go.”

With Bramblestar in the lead, the four cats headed straight up the ridge and across the border into the woods beyond. The sun rose in front of them, sending shafts of golden warmth between the trees. The last of Bramblestar’s weariness faded away, and he felt ready for anything.

“Are we looking for signs of ShadowClan trespassing?” Spiderleg asked as they crossed their own scent marks.

“No,” Bramblestar replied. “Badgers.”

“Badgers?” Amberpaw echoed, her voice rising to a squeak. “Wow!” She slid out her claws and let her shoulder fur bristle up. “Are we going to fight them?”

Spiderleg gave his apprentice a friendly nudge. “You’d be better off running away,” he mewed. “You’d hardly make a mouthful for one of those huge beasts.”

“I’ll never run away!” Amberpaw exclaimed.

“Don’t tease her,” Jessy protested to Spiderleg. Turning to Amberpaw, she added, “Don’t worry. Bramblestar taught me some moves for when a badger attacks. I’ll show you if you like.”

“That’s okay,” Spiderleg told her. “Amberpaw is my apprentice.” His tone was frosty, and Bramblestar could understand why.

A kittypet trying to take over his apprentice’s training! But Jessy learns so fast, she’d make a good mentor one day.

“We’re not going to fight,” Bramblestar meowed. “I’ve spotted a few traces, smelled a few scents, and I just want to make sure there isn’t a badger set anywhere we’re hunting right now.”

Amberpaw was wide-eyed as the patrol padded onward. She paused beside every tree or clump of bracken to have a good sniff. “I’ve scented one!” she squealed, backing away from a tangle of gnarled oak roots.

Bramblestar padded up to check. “No, that’s fox,” he told the bristling apprentice. “And it’s several days old. But well done for spotting it.”

Eyes shining, Amberpaw went on sniffing, expecting at any moment to detect an entire den of badgers. But it was Spiderleg who found the first traces, a heap of droppings in the shelter of a bramble thicket.

“They’re pretty stale,” he commented, backing away and passing his tongue over his lips in disgust.

Bramblestar studied the scent for himself. “Three days old, at a guess,” he meowed. “And I think the badger went that way.” He angled his ears in the direction of the Twoleg nests where Victor and his friends lived.

“The kittypets are welcome to them,” Spiderleg grunted.

“That’s amazing!” Jessy exclaimed. “Bramblestar, can you really tell how old those droppings are, and which way the badger was heading?”

“It’s all part of warrior training,” Bramblestar told her. “I think we should follow the scent for a while,” he went on. “Just to be sure that there isn’t a set nearby.”

With Bramblestar in the lead, the patrol tracked the badger until they drew close to the ShadowClan border. There was no sign of a set. “We may as well turn back,” Bramblestar decided. “I don’t want Rowanstar to accuse us of trespassing again. We—”

He broke off at a harsh squawk and a squeal of terror from Amberpaw. Spinning around, he saw that a rook had flown down and was attacking the small apprentice, stabbing her with its beak. Amberpaw bared her teeth and lashed out with one paw, but the rook was too big and fierce for her, pressing into the attack in a flurry of feathers.

Spiderleg flashed past Bramblestar and flung himself on top of Amberpaw, hiding her from the rook. The bird battered at him with its wings and tried to fasten its claws into his back. Bramblestar let out a defiant yowl and hurled himself at the rook, his claws slashing at it. The rook squawked again and beat its wings to avoid his blows. Before it could gain height, Jessy leaped into the air and grabbed it. She fell back to the ground and rolled over, the rook flapping furiously in an attempt to escape. Its harsh cry was cut off as it went limp. Panting, Jessy rose to her paws and stood over her prey.

“That was outstanding!” Bramblestar meowed. “Great job, Jessy!”

Jessy’s eyes shone with pride.

“We’re on a border patrol,” Spiderleg muttered as he scrambled off Amberpaw and smoothed down his ruffled fur. “Not a hunting patrol.”

“All fresh-kill is welcome,” Bramblestar retorted. “Amberpaw, are you okay?”

The apprentice tottered a little as she regained her paws, and checked herself for injuries. “I’m fine, thanks, Bramblestar.”

“If that rook attacked us,” Bramblestar mewed thoughtfully, “there must be a new nest somewhere close by.” He peered up into the trees and spotted an untidy cluster of twigs lodged in the fork of a branch in a nearby ash tree. “Up there,” he murmured.

Stealthily he began to climb the trunk, trying to stay out of sight of the nest until he could look down on it from above. A moment later he realized that Jessy was following him, leaving her catch at the bottom of the tree.

Soon Bramblestar reached a branch from where he could see into the nest. A mother rook was sitting there; at the sight of Bramblestar she half rose, revealing a small clutch of pale blue, brown-speckled eggs. As she settled again, her berry-bright eyes still fixed on him, Bramblestar slid out his claws, intent on more fresh-kill.

“No, leave her!” Jessy protested. “She’s about to be a mother. You’d be killing her chicks as well!” Then she paused and gave her chest fur a few embarrassed licks. “Okay, I’m talking like a kittypet,” she admitted.

“No, we’ll leave her,” Bramblestar meowed. As they turned to climb down the tree, he added mischievously, “We’ll come back when the chicks have hatched.”

Jessy swiped at him, her claws sheathed, before leaping to the ground.

Spiderleg, waiting at the bottom of the tree, looked unimpressed. “Are we going home, or what?” he grumbled.

When the patrol arrived back at the tunnel, Frankie and Minty hurried forward to admire Jessy’s rook. Bramblestar looked around for Squirrelflight, to report to her about the badger traces, but before he spotted her Bumblestripe sprang up from where he was sitting beside the mudpile and raced over to him.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” the young warrior meowed. “I need to talk to you about Dovewing.”

Anxiety sprang up inside Bramblestar. “Is something wrong?”

Bumblestripe shifted his paws uncomfortably. “Follow me,” he mewed.

At Bramblestar’s nod, he led the way along the tunnel and past the nests, into the shadows beyond.

“You haven’t been going down here, have you?” Bramblestar asked, astonishment and fear making his heart thud. “You know the tunnels are dangerous!”

“I know,” Bumblestripe assured him. “But Dovewing’s safe. You just need to see this.”

Unpleasant memories of the drain and Benny’s body filled Bramblestar’s mind as he followed Bumblestripe into the narrow, dripping darkness. For all his efforts to concentrate, he kept bumping into the walls. His pads grew numb from the cold, damp floor and every hair on his pelt longed to turn and head back to the light.

Then Bramblestar heard a faint meowing coming from somewhere ahead. “What’s that?” he asked sharply, halting.

“Shh!” Bumblestripe whispered. “Listen!”

“Hello! Hello!” The sound came echoing up the tunnel.

Now Bramblestar recognized the voice. “It’s Dovewing! Is she lost?” he gasped.

“No,” Bumblestripe replied. “Come on.”

Bramblestar followed him, creeping forward until they came to a place where three tunnels met. A thin shaft of light pierced the darkness from a crack in the roof. Peering over Bumblestripe’s shoulder, Bramblestar could see Dovewing standing with her back toward them. Clearly she had no idea they were there.

“Hello! Hello!” she called again. Then she waited in silence, her ears pricked, as her voice echoed away down the tunnels.

“What’s she doing?” Bramblestar whispered.

Bumblestripe glanced back at him, his eyes filled with pain. “She’s testing how long she can hear the echoes,” he told Bramblestar. “She—she wants to be able to hear again.”