Midnight

Chapter 11

“Where are we going to sleep?” Squirrelpaw asked.

As soon as Brambleclaw agreed to take her with him on the journey, her hurt and anger had vanished like dawn mist under a hot sun. He did not think she had stopped talking for a moment since they left the clearing where Firestar had found them.

“Quiet!” he hissed. “If any cat is looking for us, they’ll be able to hear you right across the forest.”

“But where?” Squirrelpaw persisted, though she did lower her voice.

“Somewhere not too far from Fourtrees,” Brambleclaw replied. “Then we’ll be ready to meet the others at sunrise.”

Darkness had fallen as he led the way through the undergrowth. Clouds had massed to cover the sky, so that no gleam of star or moon broke through. A cold breeze whispered in the grass, and once again Brambleclaw tasted the scents of approaching leaf-fall.

With possible pursuit in mind, he had considered finding shelter near Snakerocks, which the Clan had been ordered to avoid, but the risk of encountering the night-hunting badger was too great. Instead he decided to make for the Thunderpath, hoping that the acrid smells of Twoleg monsters would mask his own scent and Squirrelpaw’s.

“I know a good tree by the Thunderpath,” Squirrelpaw suggested. “You can get right inside. We could hide there.”

“And have spiders and beetles crawling through our fur all night?” Brambleclaw mewed discouragingly. “No, thanks.”

Squirrelpaw sniffed. “Why do you always know better?”

“Maybe because I’m a warrior?”

Distracted by a rustling in the undergrowth, the apprentice made no reply. Barely pausing to track her prey, she dived into a clump of bracken and came back a couple of heartbeats later with a mouse dangling from her jaws.

“Well done,” meowed Brambleclaw.

The sight of the fresh-kill made him realize how hungry he was. Not long after, he managed to catch a mouse for himself, and the two cats paused to eat in quick, wary gulps, their ears pricked to catch the faintest traces of a ThunderClan patrol.

But Brambleclaw could hear nothing except the ordinary night sounds of the forest and the nearby roar of monsters on the Thunderpath. Their stench was so strong here that it masked most others, as Brambleclaw had hoped, though he shrank from the thought of spending the night with that in his nostrils.

While they ate, a thin, cold rain began to fall, growing steadily heavier until Brambleclaw’s fur was soaked and he was colder than he could remember feeling in moons.

“We need shelter,” Squirrelpaw mewed, shivering. She looked small and vulnerable, with her fur plastered darkly to her body. “What about finding that tree?”

Brambleclaw was about to agree when they emerged from the undergrowth at the top of a grassy bank, and he found himself looking down at the Thunderpath. A Twoleg monster roared past, its glaring eyes cutting shafts of yellow brightness through the night. Before it swept by, the light showed Brambleclaw a looming dark shape, the biggest monster he had ever seen, squatting on the verge of the Thunderpath.

The reek of it flooded his senses.

“What’s that?” exclaimed Squirrelpaw, brushing close beside him.

“I don’t know,” Brambleclaw admitted. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. Stay here while I take a look.”

Cautiously he padded forward until he stood a couple of foxlengths away from the monster. Was it dead, he wondered, and was that why its Twolegs had abandoned it here? Or was it crouching, watching, waiting to spring as he would spring on a helpless mouse?

“Look, we could get underneath it,” Squirrelpaw pointed out, trotting up to join him; of course she had not obeyed his order to wait at the top of the bank. “We could shelter from the rain.”

There was just enough light for Brambleclaw to make out a darker gap between the monster’s belly and the ground. His fur bristled at the thought of crawling into the narrow space, but he didn’t want to seem a coward in front of Squirrelpaw, and her suggestion was a good one. The overwhelming scent would certainly hide them from any pursuers.

“Okay,” he meowed. “But let me—” He broke off as Squirrelpaw bounded forward, flattened herself to the ground, and wriggled underneath the monster.

“—go first,” Brambleclaw finished resignedly, following her.

A faint dawn light seeping under the monster’s belly roused Brambleclaw the next morning. Squirrelpaw was curled beside him. For a heartbeat he couldn’t remember why she was sleeping in his den instead of her own. Then the acrid reek of the monster, and a continuous roar from the Thunderpath close by, reminded him where he was and why. This was the morning when the journey would really begin! But instead of excitement, he felt only uncertainty dragging at his paws, along with the dismal thought that he had as good as exiled himself from his Clan by disappearing without his leader’s permission.

Brambleclaw crept out from beneath the monster and lifted his head to taste the air. The grass was still wet from the previous night’s rain, and the bushes at the top of the bank were heavy with drops of water. Mist curled through the trees in the gray dawn. There was no sound or scent of other cats.

Turning back to the monster, he called to Squirrelpaw, “Wake up! It’s time we were on our way to Fourtrees.”

He was beginning to think he would have to slide back under the monster’s belly to rouse the apprentice when she crawled out, blinking. “I’m starving,” she complained.

“We’ll have time to catch prey on the way,” Brambleclaw told her. “But we must get moving. The others will be waiting.”

“Okay.” Squirrelpaw raced up the bank and headed toward Fourtrees, following the line of the Thunderpath. Brambleclaw caught up to her, and for a time the two cats loped along side by side. The mist cleared and a golden light gathered on the horizon where the sun would rise. Birds began to sing in the branches overhead.

Once she was properly awake, Squirrelpaw seemed to forget about stopping to hunt. She hurried on, paying no attention to anything around her. Brambleclaw was torn between wanting to get to Fourtrees as soon as possible, and staying alert for possible trouble. When he heard rustling in the bushes behind them he halted, ears flicking up and jaws parted to detect the scent of their pursuer.

“Squirrelpaw!” he hissed. “Get out of sight!”

But Squirrelpaw whirled around a heartbeat before he spoke, and stood staring in the direction of the sound, her green eyes wide. At the same moment, Brambleclaw picked up the strong, familiar scent of a ThunderClan cat. Then the branches of a nearby bush quivered and parted to reveal Leafpaw.

The two sisters stood rigid for a moment, their gazes locked together. Then Leafpaw padded forward and set down the packet of herbs she was carrying at Squirrelpaw’s feet.

“I brought you some traveling herbs,” she murmured.

“You’re going to need them.”

Brambleclaw stared from her to Squirrelpaw. “I thought you said you hadn’t told any cat!” His voice was loud with outrage. “How does she know? You’ve been lying to me!”

“I have not!” Squirrelpaw spat.

“No, she hasn’t,” Leafpaw’s gentler voice added. “But she didn’t need to tell me anything. I just knew, that’s all.”

Brambleclaw shook himself. “You mean, you know everything?” he asked. “About the dreams, and the journey to the sun-drown place?”

Leafpaw turned her serious gaze on him, and he saw unhappiness and bewilderment in the depths of her eyes. “No,” she mewed. “Only that Squirrelpaw is going away.” She hesitated, closing her eyes briefly. “And there will be great danger.”

A pang of pity for her stabbed through Brambleclaw, sharp as a thorn, but he could not afford to give in to it. He had to know what Leafpaw had done with her knowledge.

“Who else knows?” he demanded roughly. “Have you told your father?”

“No!” The flash of anger in Leafpaw’s eyes suddenly made her look very much like her sister. “I wouldn’t tell on Squirrelpaw, not even to Firestar.”

“She wouldn’t, Brambleclaw,” Squirrelpaw added.

Brambleclaw nodded slowly.

“I almost wish I had,” Leafpaw went on, bitterness in her voice. “Perhaps I could have stopped it all, and kept you here.

Squirrelpaw, do you really have to go?”

“I must! This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. Don’t you see? It’s a command from StarClan, so it’s not like we’re going against the warrior code.”

She began pouring out to Leafpaw the whole story of Brambleclaw’s dreams, and the meeting with the cats from other Clans. Leafpaw listened, her eyes widening in dismay.

Brambleclaw fidgeted from paw to paw, acutely aware of the passing of time as the daylight strengthened.

“But you don’t need to go!” Leafpaw wailed when Squirrelpaw had finished. “You haven’t been chosen.”

“Well, I’m not going back. I can’t do anything right, as far as Firestar is concerned. Do you know he even told me I might not be fit to be a warrior? I’ll show him whether I’m fit or not!”

Brambleclaw glanced at Leafpaw. She knew as well as he did how useless it was to argue with Squirrelpaw when she had made up her mind. There was something else, too, in Leafpaw’s amber eyes: a hint of trouble, as if she knew more than she was telling.

“But you might not come back.” Leafpaw’s voice shook, and Brambleclaw was reminded even more forcibly that as well as a medicine cat, Leafpaw was Squirrelpaw’s sister.

“What will I do without you?”

“I’ll be okay, Leafpaw.” Brambleclaw was amazed at the gentleness of Squirrelpaw’s voice, and the way that she pressed her muzzle comfortingly against her sister’s side.

“I’ve got to go. You do see that, don’t you?”

Leafpaw nodded.

“And you won’t tell anyone where we’ve gone?” Squirrelpaw pressed.

“I don’t know where you’re going—and neither do you,” Leafpaw pointed out. “But no, I won’t say anything. Just remember that Firestar does love you. He has things on his mind that you know nothing about.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Now take the herbs and go.”

Squirrelpaw dabbed at the packet of herbs, dividing them between herself and Brambleclaw. As they gulped down the bitter-tasting leaves, Leafpaw looked on, her eyes huge and somber.

“Even if you don’t have a medicine cat with you, you can still find herbs as you go along. Don’t forget marigold for wounds,” she meowed rapidly. “And tansy for coughs—oh, and juniper berries for bellyache. And borage leaves are best for fever, if you can find any.” She sounded as if she were trying to pass on the whole of her training in the few moments she had left.

“We won’t forget,” Squirrelpaw promised. She finished the last mouthful of herbs and swiped her tongue around her mouth. “Come on, Brambleclaw.”

“Good-bye, Leafpaw,” Brambleclaw mewed. “You—and the rest of the Clan—take care. If trouble is really coming to the forest, we… we might not be back in time to help you fight it.”

“That is in the paws of StarClan,” Leafpaw agreed sadly. “I will do my best to be ready, I promise.”

“And don’t worry about Squirrelpaw,” Brambleclaw added.

“I’ll look after her.”

“And I’ll look after him.” Squirrelpaw flashed him a challenging look before padding up to her sister and touching noses with her. “We will come back,” she murmured.

Leafpaw dipped her head, sadness clouding her eyes. As Brambleclaw headed once again for Fourtrees, he glanced back to see her watching them, a motionless light brown figure against the ferns. As he raised his tail in a gesture of farewell she turned swiftly, and the undergrowth swallowed her up.