Bramblestar’s Storm

Chapter 35

Bramblestar woke to find his Clanmates already heading outside. Two sunrises had passed since Jessy and Minty left, and the tunnel seemed oddly empty without them. He sat up, gave one ear a thorough scratch, and followed the others into the clearing outside the tunnel.

The rest of the cats were crowding around Squirrelflight as she sorted out the early patrols. “Cloudtail,” she meowed, “I want you to lead the WindClan border patrol. Take Lilyheart with you, and… yes, Ivypool and Snowpaw. And can you take Stormpaw, too? It’s time he learned what happens on a border patrol, and I have other things to do this morning.”

Cloudtail dipped his head. “No problem.”

Ivypool beckoned Stormpaw over with a twitch of her ears. “You can set the scent marks.”

Stormpaw looked alarmed. “I don’t know how to do that!”

“Don’t worry.” Lilyheart brushed her tail over his shoulder. “We’ll show you what to do.”

“We’ll all help.” Snowpaw looked delighted to be on patrol with an apprentice who knew less than he did. “It’s easy!”

Bramblestar noticed Graystripe and Sandstorm standing to one side, looking a little sad as the patrols formed up and moved off. He could guess how hard it must be for them to adjust to their new life as elders. But Sandstorm was already looking plumper now that she had the chance to rest, and Bramblestar hadn’t heard her coughing for the last day or two. Now she and Graystripe settled themselves in a patch of sunlight where Purdy was already dozing, and began sharing tongues.

When the last of the patrols had left, Squirrelflight padded over to Bramblestar. She hadn’t mentioned Jessy at all, except to say that she would be missed, on the morning after the brown she-cat had left.

“It’s the night of the full moon,” Squirrelflight meowed, sitting beside Bramblestar and wrapping her tail around her paws. “Every cat is excited at the thought of going to the Gathering. Do you think the water is low enough?”

Bramblestar nodded. “The lake is almost back to its normal level. The island will be muddy, but it should be dry enough for us to meet.”

“Good!” Squirrelflight purred. “Who should we take with us?”

Bramblestar blinked. “Sandstorm and Graystripe will have to come. And Lilyheart and Stormpaw. I’ll be mentioning them in my report. And either Jayfeather or Leafpool: We can let Jayfeather decide which.”

“Jayfeather will decide, whether we let him or not,” Squirrelflight commented, with a glint of amusement in her green eyes.

“True. What about Cherryfall and Molewhisker?” Bramblestar suggested. “They’ve worked so hard on rebuilding the camp; they deserve to come.”

“Good idea,” Squirrelflight agreed. “Brackenfur too, then.”

“Right. And there should be a few more… Give me some time to think about it. Oh, and could you tell Stormpaw what happens at a Gathering? He’ll enjoy it more if he knows what to expect.”

“The other Clans will know he used to be a kittypet,” Squirrelflight pointed out.

“Yes,” Bramblestar responded. “But he’s not anymore.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes gleamed. “I’ll go let Sandstorm and Graystripe know about the Gathering,” she meowed, rising to her paws.

“Squirrelflight…” Bramblestar called as she turned away.

His deputy swung around, an inquiring look in her eyes. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to say…” Bramblestar struggled to find the right words. “I wanted to thank you for everything. For supporting me over the badger battle. For welcoming the kittypets I brought back. For—for raising three wonderful cats that I’m so proud of.”

Squirrelflight stepped closer and her scent swept over him. “We did it together.”

“Maybe,” Bramblestar murmured. “I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with any other cat.”

Moving as one they stretched their necks forward; for a heartbeat their noses touched, and their muzzles brushed together. Then Squirrelflight stepped backward, looking ruffled. “I must tell the others about the Gathering.”

“Okay.” Bramblestar blinked at her affectionately and flicked her shoulder with his tail. “I’ll see you later.”

The moon was floating in a clear indigo sky when Bramblestar led his cats down toward the lake. In spite of the good omen, his belly was churning. He was dreading what Rowanstar might say about the battle with the badgers.

He’s sure to mention it, to warn the other Clans that ThunderClan is interfering once again.

Squirrelflight, who had been padding along beside Jayfeather, quickened her pace until she reached Bramblestar’s side. “I know what you’re thinking,” she meowed. “You’re worrying about Rowanstar. Ignore him,” she added with a sniff. “He couldn’t have fought that battle without us. He might learn to be grateful eventually, even if he is a ShadowClan cat.”

Excitement was bubbling up inside the ThunderClan cats as they headed for the lakeshore, and they darted back and forth with their tails bushed up when they saw the debris that the flood had left behind it. The pebbles had been completely covered by branches and all kinds of things that didn’t belong.

“Look at all the rubbish that’s been washed up!” Amberpaw exclaimed. “There’s Twoleg stuff in there, too!”

“Yes, Amberpaw, we can all see it,” Spiderleg snapped. “So leave it alone!”

“And dead fish,” Lilyheart added. “Yuck!”

But as they crossed WindClan territory and drew closer to the island, every cat grew quieter. Two moons had passed since the last Gathering, a long time in the life of the Clans, and so much had happened since their last visit to the island. Bramblestar guessed that all his warriors were a bit daunted at the thought of meeting the other Clans again.

“I wonder how many cats didn’t survive the storm and the flood?” Sandstorm murmured to Graystripe.

“I don’t know.” Graystripe shook his head sadly. “And what about RiverClan? They had to move so far away. Will they even be here tonight?”

To Bramblestar’s relief, the tree-bridge was clear of the water, though the waves lapped against it, sucking greedily in the darkness. I don’t want a repeat of walking on that sunken tree trunk! A pang shook him as he thought about Jessy. I hope she’s safe, wherever she is.

The ThunderClan cats bristled as they crossed the bridge with the water gurgling close beneath their paws. Stormpaw in particular looked terrified, though he kept moving across the slippery, mud-smeared trunk. Squirrelflight gave him a word of praise as he jumped down at the other end.

While Bramblestar was waiting for his turn to cross, Onestar and the WindClan cats came up behind him. Onestar greeted him with a frosty nod, but did not speak. Bramblestar felt his pelt tingling. He was glad when he could cross the tree-bridge and head through the bushes to the clearing in the center of the island. Relief flooded over him as he emerged from the bushes and saw Mistystar already there with her RiverClan cats near the foot of the Great Oak. Her gray-blue fur shimmered in the moonlight and her eyes lit up with welcome when she saw Bramblestar.

“How are you?” he called, trotting over to her. “Have you managed to come home?”

“There’s been a lot of damage to our camp,” Mistystar mewed. “But we’re working to rebuild it, and some of our warriors are already staying there overnight.” She paused, then added sadly, “We lost Pebblefoot and Grasspelt in the storm, but the rest of our cats are well.”

Bramblestar brushed his tail along her side. “I know how it feels to lose cats,” he mewed. “We lost an apprentice, Seedpaw.”

As the moon rose higher, the RiverClan and ThunderClan cats mingled together, exchanging news, but Onestar kept the WindClan cats aloof, clustered tightly together at one side of the clearing.

I wonder what his problem is, Bramblestar thought. This is supposed to be a time of truce!

Eventually Onestar raised his voice to be heard above the chatter. “It looks like ShadowClan isn’t coming. We should begin.”

Apprehension began to rise up inside Bramblestar. It’s true: ShadowClan should be here by now. Has something bad happened to them? Please, StarClan, don’t say that the badgers have come back!

Turning toward the Great Oak, Bramblestar realized that some of the younger cats had wandered off to check the flood damage on the far side of the island. He could hear them slipping and clambering over the rocks and fallen trees, and their voices rose excitedly.

“There’s a dead fox here. Does any cat want it?”

“Yuck, no! That’s crow-food!”

“Stop splashing me! Now I’ve got mud all over my pelt.”

Suddenly a loud screech sounded from the shore. Bramblestar recognized Cherryfall’s voice. Every hair on his pelt stood on end.

Then her voice came again in a triumphant yowl. “I’ve found the stick!”

Shocked exclamations rose from the other cats, and they pressed around Cherryfall as she stumbled into the clearing, dragging a long, smooth stick marked with neat scratches.

It’s the ThunderClan memorial stick! A shiver went through Bramblestar from ears to tail-tip. The stick that Seedpaw died for.

Jayfeather wriggled his way to the front of the throng. His blind eyes blazed with joy as he crouched at one end of the stick and dug his claws into it as if he thought it was going to escape. Standing beside him, Bramblestar ran his paw over the marks, and thought about his lost Clanmates. We owe them so much. Yet somehow he felt oddly comforted. Finding the stick again seemed to promise that their memory would never be lost.

Mistystar peered down at the stick, her blue eyes curious. “What is it?” she mewed. “Why is it important?”

Cherryfall explained to her the meaning of the marks on the stick. “And this way,” she finished, “we never forget the cats who died in the Great Battle.”

There was a pause; Bramblestar could feel the memories weighing on every cat in the clearing.

It was Onestar who broke the silence. “We remember our fallen warriors with a pile of stones at the top of the moor, one stone for each cat. One patrol goes there every day, to remember and be thankful.”

Mothwing, the RiverClan medicine cat, stepped forward with a glance at Mistystar. “Willowshine and I created a circle of ferns in which we can each remember our lost Clanmates,” she mewed. “The flood damaged them, of course, but they will grow again.”

A somber quiet fell across the clearing again, the cats of all three Clans united in grief.

“And we list the names of the dead at the first owl call each night.”

Bramblestar whirled around. Rowanstar! The ShadowClan leader stood at the far side of the clearing with his warriors around him.

They padded forward to stand with the rest of the Clans, and for a few heartbeats they all remained silent with their heads bowed. Thankful that every Clan was there at last, Bramblestar felt their shared emotions wreathing around him like powerful scent. We all feel it: the sorrow amid our victory over the Dark Forest. The Great Battle has saved us all, as well as shaping our future. But we paid the highest price we could.

Raising his head, Bramblestar was suddenly confused. The clearing was packed with cats. How many did Rowanstar bring with him? Then Bramblestar saw that these cats were silver-furred with starlight, with a frosty glitter at their paws and their eyes shining with the icy light of the full moon. One by one he felt their gaze rest on him, and he recognized them with growing joy.

The cats who were lost in the Great Battle! They are here: Sorreltail and Ferncloud, Hollyleaf and Mousefur and Foxleap… oh, and Firestar!

Bramblestar gazed around and saw cats from the other Clans: Applefur and Cedarheart from ShadowClan; Ashfoot and Tornear from WindClan; Robinwing and Dapplenose from RiverClan; and many, many more.

As cries of astonishment arose from the living cats, Firestar stepped forward and spoke to Bramblestar. “There is a way to honor all these cats who gave their lives to save the Clans by the lake. Remember SkyClan? You have the chance to make sure that it never happens again…”

As he finished speaking the starry cats faded away, leaving the living cats gaping. Graystripe spoke for them all. “Did we really see that?”

Bramblestar gave his pelt a shake. With an effort he bounded across the clearing and leaped up into the Great Oak. The other leaders followed him to take their place in the branches.

“I’ll begin,” Onestar announced, stepping forward. “WindClan has—”

“Wait,” Bramblestar interrupted him. “I’ve got something important to say.”

Onestar glared at him, but after a moment he gave an ill-tempered snort and stepped back to let Bramblestar speak.

“Cats of all Clans,” Bramblestar began, forcing his voice to ring out confidently over the assembled cats. “We cannot let the fallen go unrecognized, and that includes ensuring the future of all four Clans together. In times of peace, we stand alone, hunt alone, fight with one another over our boundaries. But more than that, StarClan has shown us that there must always be four Clans beside the lake, and in times of trouble, Clan borders are meaningless.”

He paused, aware of the momentous suggestion he was about to make that would change the life of the Clans for season upon season. “I wish to create a new rule for the warrior code: that each Clan has the right to be proud and independent, but in times of trouble they must forget their boundaries and fight side by side to protect the four. Each Clan must help the others so that no Clan will fall.”

Rowanstar stepped forward to Bramblestar’s side, his neck fur bristling. “It’s always ThunderClan who decides to interfere,” he hissed. “Any cat would think Firestar wasn’t dead.”

Bramblestar raised a paw to silence him, mighty and imperious. “Firestar is dead. I am leader of ThunderClan now. And I am proud to uphold his legacy of preserving all the Clans in the forest. No Clan was left behind on the Great Journey to find the lake. No Clan was abandoned to fight alone against the Dark Forest. No Clan will be allowed to fall now, not if the rest of us can protect them.”

Looking down, Bramblestar saw Squirrelflight sitting in her place on the roots of the Great Oak. She was gazing up at him, and the love and warmth in her eyes sank into the depths of him, supporting him. “The strength of many preserves all!” he finished.

“Yes!” Mistystar’s cry rang out as soon as Bramblestar had finished speaking. “We should do as Bramblestar says. It’s for the good of every cat.”

Onestar was working his claws into the bark of the branch where he stood. “You don’t leave me much choice,” he muttered grudgingly. “Okay, I agree.”

“Rowanstar?” Bramblestar prompted. His pads burned with tension: Would the ShadowClan leader be able to put his pride aside and accept a change that would help preserve the Clans into the far future?

“I suppose I’m outvoted,” Rowanstar growled. “Let it be so…”

Enthusiastic yowls broke out from the cats in the clearing below. Listening to them, Bramblestar looked up to see the stars glittering more fiercely above his head. He wondered if he was imagining things, but it seemed to him that they had drawn closer together, sending an even brighter light down onto the island. With StarClan’s help, the Clans had survived the flood, survived badgers, sought out new hunting grounds. The warrior code was even stronger than before with this new law. This would be Bramblestar’s legacy to all the cats who came after him.

Under StarClan, four Clans will be one, to preserve the four.