Bramblestar’s Storm

Chapter 5

Blackstar looked up at the WindClan leader; Bramblestar could see shock and horror in his eyes.

“These cats are still with us, watching the Clanmates they died to save!” Blackstar protested. “We need to honor their memory!”

“But Blackstar,” Mistystar mewed more gently, “life moves on, just like the seasons. We don’t list every piece of prey we’ve eaten in the last moon, or remember every fallen leaf.”

Blackstar looked even more outraged. “Our Clanmates are not prey and fallen leaves!” he gasped.

“I didn’t mean…” Mistystar began, but she was drowned by a growing clamor from the cats in the clearing. ShadowClan supported their leader, but many of the others were obviously as unhappy as Bramblestar about the List of the Fallen.

“Why aren’t we capable of honoring our own dead?” Cloudtail demanded.

“And why is Blackstar the only cat allowed to speak?” Crowfeather challenged from WindClan.

Bramblestar jumped to his paws, waving his tail for silence. This wasn’t an issue to break the truce over. “I agree with Mistystar,” he meowed when he could make himself heard. “Each Clan should be allowed to remember the fallen in its own way.”

Blackstar’s neck fur bristled and he drew his lips back in a snarl. “You are too quick to forget that we fought as one Clan against the Dark Forest.”

“But we are not one Clan now,” Bramblestar reminded him. “We are four Clans, just as we were before.”

Blackstar whirled around and began to stalk away from the Great Oak. “My Clan will not stay to hear our dead warriors scorned by the other Clans!” he hissed. “You all owe them a debt, just as we do.”

Instantly his deputy, Rowanclaw, jumped up from his place on the oak roots and ran after his leader. “Come back, Blackstar,” he urged. “No cat has shown any disrespect to us. Things are changing, that’s all.” As Blackstar halted, looking bewildered, Rowanclaw added, “Each Clan faces new challenges, and nothing stays the same forever. Look at ShadowClan: We’re not weak and broken now as we were after the battle. No, we’re a Clan you can be proud of. And we owe that to you, our leader.”

After a long pause, Blackstar turned and scrambled up into the Great Oak to take his place with the other leaders. Bramblestar sought out his sister Tawnypelt and met her gaze, giving her a nod to acknowledge Rowanclaw’s well-judged words. Tawnypelt’s green eyes glowed with pride in her mate.

“Thank you, Blackstar,” Mistystar meowed, dipping her head to the ShadowClan leader. “You can be sure that all the Clans will remember their dead for as long as the forest lasts.” Raising her eyes to the stars, she went on, “Ancestors of all the Clans, look down on us here and guide us through the hard days to come. Welcome the new starry warriors among you, and keep the memory of them fresh in our minds. We honor them, and all of you, now and always.”

A ripple swept through the clearing like wind through grass as each cat bowed his or her head to hear Mistystar’s prayer.

“Now,” Mistystar continued more briskly, “moonlight is passing, and we still haven’t begun. I’ll go first, shall I?” She glanced briefly at the other leaders, then announced, “We have had to move our camp a little farther back from the lake, because the water level is so high. But all is well, and there’s still a good supply of fish.”

Bramblestar caught Squirrelflight’s eye below him. That’s why the RiverClan warriors look so tired and pawsore, and why they seem so unsettled.

“And we have new kits in RiverClan,” Mistystar reported, with a satisfied swish of her tail. “Petalfur gave birth to a she-cat and two toms.”

Bramblestar spotted the brown tabby warrior Mallownose looking very proud. He must be the father.

As the other cats murmured congratulations, Mistystar stepped back. “Would you like to speak next, Blackstar?”

The ShadowClan leader rose to his paws. Bramblestar thought that he looked older than ever, white as bone against the dark branches. “ShadowClan is strong and thriving,” he announced. “Snowbird has had three kits, all she-cats.”

He sank back down on his branch, while below in the clearing Scorchfur looked smug, licking one paw and passing it over his ear.

Onestar stood up. “There’s excellent hunting in WindClan,” he reported. “Birds have been coming inland from the sun-drown-place, blown by the wind. They don’t seem to be comfortable landing on grass, which makes them easy to catch. And although we have no new kits yet, we expect good news soon.”

His gaze rested on Sedgewhisker, who gave her chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks, and leaned into her mate, Emberfoot.

Bramblestar’s pads prickled with disquiet as he stepped to the end of his branch and looked out over the cats. Why are the other leaders making such a big deal about new kits? It’s barely newleaf; there’s plenty of time to fill the nursery. “We have been strengthening our boundaries,” he announced, his tail-tip twitching. Pay attention, ShadowClan and WindClan! “And five new apprentices have begun their training: Lilypaw, Seedpaw, Amberpaw, Snowpaw, and Dewpaw. Lilypaw and Seedpaw have been apprentices for three moons, but this is their first Gathering. All are learning fast, and will make excellent warriors.”

“Lilypaw!”

“Seedpaw!”

“Amberpaw!”

“Snowpaw!”

“Dewpaw!”

As their names were yowled to the star-filled sky, the five young cats sat up straight, their eyes burning with pride. Bramblestar jumped as wind rattled the branches above him, and the Great Oak creaked in the cold blast. A scrap of cloud drifted across the moon, briefly dimming the silver light that bathed the island.

“The Gathering is over!” Onestar called out.

The cats on the ground began to break up into smaller groups. As he leaped down from the tree, Bramblestar spotted Squirrelflight staring at Tigerheart and Ratscar from ShadowClan, who were chatting with Cherryfall and Ivypool.

“You look like a hawk sizing up its prey,” he meowed as he slipped through the crowd of cats to Squirrelflight’s side. “Tigerheart and Ratscar are just being friendly.”

“There are some cats I’ll never be able to trust again,” Squirrelflight growled.

“They’re not your Clanmates; you don’t have to trust them,” Bramblestar murmured. “But you can’t make them enemies because of a mistake they made in the past.”

Squirrelflight let out a snort. “I bet I can.”

Bramblestar didn’t bother to argue. He knew it would take a long time for his deputy to put aside her mistrust of any cat who had been led astray by the warriors of the Dark Forest. He struggled himself with the knowledge of what a few of his Clanmates had done. Some wounds are slow to heal. Instead he looked around for his sister Tawnypelt, and spotted her squeezing through a group of her Clanmates as she made her way toward him.

“Hi,” she purred, touching noses with him. “It’s good to see you, Bramblestar.”

“And you,” Bramblestar replied. “Rowanclaw did a brilliant job with Blackstar.”

Tawnypelt’s purr deepened. “I know. Rowanclaw is great.”

“And he’ll make a good leader,” Bramblestar went on. “It can’t be long now…”

Instantly Tawnypelt’s neck fur bristled. “Are you suggesting that Blackstar is too old to lead us?” she growled. “Because you’re wrong! Blackstar is fine.”

“Okay, okay!” Bramblestar took a pace back. “Keep your pelt on!”

Tawnypelt lashed her tail once, then pressed her muzzle into her brother’s shoulder. “Take care, you stupid furball,” she meowed as she turned to rejoin her Clanmates.

Bramblestar noticed that Tigerheart was still talking to Ivypool, though Cherryfall and Ratscar had moved on. Faintly curious, he eased his way into earshot.

“Where’s Dovewing?” Tigerheart was asking.

Ivypool had a guarded look, and her tone was distant as she replied. “She’s in the camp.”

“With Bumblestripe?” Tigerheart glanced around as if he was looking for the pale gray tom.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Ivypool retorted.

Bramblestar wondered why Tigerheart would want to see Dovewing. Cats in other Clans never learned about the Three’s special powers, so it can’t be that he wants her to see something far away.

The tiny incident reminded Bramblestar that the Clans needed to live separately now. He would always be proud of the cats for coming together to fight against the Dark Forest. I’m honored to have fought alongside them, but that time has passed. We need to reinforce the borders of our territories, and the boundaries that we can’t see, the ones between cat and cat.

On his way across the clearing he paused to chat with Pouncetail, a RiverClan elder, who began telling him a long, complicated story about catching fish. Maybe I should introduce him to Purdy, Bramblestar thought. He was distracted from the tale by a sharp prod in his side, and turned to see Squirrelflight.

“You need to give the signal to leave,” she hissed. “WindClan and ShadowClan have already gone.”

Embarrassment stabbed through Bramblestar. I forgot that’s my job now!

“You’re the leader now,” Pouncetail teased him gently. “You have to make all the hard decisions. You’re lucky to have Squirrelflight to keep you in line!”

“I certainly am,” Bramblestar agreed. Watching Squirrelflight as she began efficiently rounding up their Clanmates, he added to himself, I’d be lost without her as my deputy.

Bramblestar returned to camp with the dawn patrol just as the sun burned off the last of the early mist. It’s going to be another warm day, he thought.

As he emerged from the thorns, Bramblestar was surprised to see Daisy pacing nervously in front of the nursery. As soon as she spotted him she came bounding over.

“Bramblestar, I’m so worried!” she burst out.

“What’s the matter?” Bramblestar asked, resting his tail on the she-cat’s shoulder.

“It’s Smoky and Floss at the horseplace,” Daisy replied. “I think Smoky was waiting for us when we were going to the Gathering, but he was too scared to come and talk to us.”

Bramblestar wasn’t convinced. “He might just have been watching—”

“No, why would he?” Daisy interrupted, working her paws anxiously into the earth. “Those cats stay out of the way of the Clans. Please, Bramblestar, let me go to the horseplace and make sure everything’s okay.”

Bramblestar hesitated for a moment, gazing into Daisy’s eyes and seeing her fear for her friends. “Okay, but I’ll go with you.”

“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.