Midnight

Chapter 17

Brambleclaw jumped awake when a paw prodded him in the side.

Squirrelpaw’s voice meowed urgently, “Wake up, Brambleclaw! Feathertail and Crowpaw—are gone!”

Brambleclaw sat up, blinking. Tawnypelt was on her paws, and Stormfur was just emerging from the nest he had made for himself under a clump of ferns. But Squirrelpaw was right. There was no sign of Feathertail and Crowpaw.

His head whirling, he staggered to his paws. The sun had already climbed above the horizon in a bright blue sky dotted with puffs of white cloud. A stiff breeze was blowing, rippling the grass in the field, but it brought no scent of the missing cats. For a couple of heartbeats Brambleclaw wondered if they had gone home. They had not received the saltwater sign from StarClan; had that made them feel like giving up, as if they had been judged and found lacking? And if Feathertail and Crowpaw had turned back, could he and Tawnypelt succeed if they went on alone?

Then he realized he was being stupid. Crowpaw might think like that, but Feathertail never would, and wherever the two cats had gone they must be together. And it was unlikely that a predator had taken them; there were no scents of danger here, and in any case the noise would have woken the rest of them.

“See if they’ve gone for a drink at the pool,” he suggested to Squirrelpaw, who was still gazing at him with panic in her green eyes.

“I already have,” she mewed. “I’m not mouse-brained.”

“No, okay, then…” Brambleclaw glanced around wildly, desperate to come up with a plan, and caught sight of two small figures, pale gray and black, approaching across the field. The wind, blowing toward the broken-down wall, had carried their scent away. “There they are!” he exclaimed.

Feathertail and Crowpaw trotted briskly up to the stones.

Their mouths were full of fresh-kill, and their eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

“Where have you been?” Brambleclaw demanded. “We were worried about you.”

“You shouldn’t wander off like that,” Stormfur added to his sister.

“What does it look like?” Crowpaw snapped, dropping the two mice he was carrying. “You were all snoring like hedgehogs in winter, so we thought we’d go and hunt.”

“There’s lots of prey over there.” Feathertail gestured with her tail toward a thicket in the next field. “We caught a whole pile, but we’ll have to go back and fetch the rest.”

“Let these lazy lumps do it themselves,” Crowpaw muttered.

“Of course we’ll help,” meowed Brambleclaw, his mouth already starting to water at the smell of the fresh-kill. “You’ve done brilliantly. You stay and eat, and we’ll fetch the rest of the prey.”

Crowpaw had already crouched down, ready to take a bite from one of the mice. “Don’t talk to us as if you’re our mentor,” he growled.

He was obviously determined to be difficult, so Brambleclaw left him to it. In spite of the younger cat’s bad temper, he couldn’t help feeling optimistic. They had survived the trouble in the Twoleg gardens, Tawnypelt’s sign meant that they were still following the will of StarClan, and now they had a good meal to look forward to. As he led the way toward the thicket he decided that things could be a good deal worse.

“What are those?” Brambleclaw asked.

Three days had passed since the trouble in the Twoleg gardens, and the journeying cats had traveled on across farmland, avoiding the Twoleg nests dotted here and there, and meeting nothing more threatening than sheep. Now they were crouched in a ditch that ran along the line of a hedge between two fields. They were peering out at two of the biggest animals Brambleclaw had ever seen, which were running back and forth across the field, snorting and tossing up their heads. The impact of their huge feet made the ground shudder.

“Horses,” Crowpaw replied loftily; his eyes gleamed as if he was delighted to know something that Brambleclaw didn’t. “They run across our territory sometimes with Twolegs on their backs.”

Brambleclaw thought he had never heard anything so mad in his life. “I guess even Twolegs want four legs sometimes,” he joked.

Crowpaw shrugged.

“Can we please get going?” Squirrelpaw mewed plaintively.

“There’s water in this ditch, and my tail is getting wet.”

“Fine, go,” Brambleclaw muttered. “But I don’t fancy getting crushed.”

“I don’t think horses are dangerous,” Stormfur meowed.

“We’ve seen them at the farm on the edge of RiverClan territory. They never pay much attention to us.”

“If they did tread on us, they wouldn’t mean to,” Feathertail added.

Brambleclaw felt that wouldn’t be much consolation; a blow from one of those feet, which looked like chunks of weathered stone, could break a cat’s spine.

“We just need to run across while they’re down at the other end,” Tawnypelt pointed out. “I doubt they’d follow us.

They must be quite stupid, or they wouldn’t let Twolegs on their backs.”

“Okay.” That sounded like good sense to Brambleclaw.

“Straight across this field and through that hedge opposite.

And for StarClan’s sake, let’s stay together this time.”

They waited until the horses had cantered off to the other end of the field.

“Now!” mewed Brambleclaw.

He launched himself into the open, wind streaming through his fur, aware of his companions racing beside him. He thought he could hear the pounding of the horses’ massive feet, but he did not dare slow down to take a look. Then he was leaping the ditch that bordered the hedge on the far side, and plunging into the shelter of low-growing bushes.

Peering out cautiously, he saw that the others had reached safety with him. “Great!” he meowed. “I think we’re starting to get the hang of this.”

“It’s about time.” Crowpaw sniffed.

There were large animals in the next field too, this time standing together in the shade of a couple of trees, swishing their tails and munching grass. These were cows: Brambleclaw had seen them near Ravenpaw’s barn on his apprentice journey to Highstones. They had smooth black-and-white pelts and enormous eyes like giant peaty pools.

The cows seemed to take no notice of the group of cats, and so they crossed this field more slowly, keeping an eye on the animals as they brushed through the long, cool grass. It was almost sunhigh, and Brambleclaw would have been happy to settle down for a nap, but he knew that they had to go on. He kept checking the position of the sun in the sky, impatient for it to start going down so that he could be sure they were still traveling in the right direction. Where the sun touched the horizon, that was the sun-drown place. Brambleclaw pushed away his nagging worry that they would have nothing to guide them if clouds came to hide the sun, and he hoped the good weather would hold.

Leaving the cows behind, they came to a field so huge they could not see the other side. Instead of grass, it was covered by thicker stems, yellow and stiff like the straw in Ravenpaw’s barn, cut short so they were hard and spiky to walk on. In the distance they could hear the roar of a monster.

“It’s over there.” Squirrelpaw had leaped onto a low branch of an elder tree that was growing in the hedge. “A huge monster, in the field! This far from any Thunderpath!”

“What? It can’t be!” Brambleclaw leaped up to the branch beside her. To his amazement, Squirrelpaw was right. A monster far bigger than most of the ones that traveled along the Thunderpath was roaring slowly across the field. Some sort of cloud surrounded it, filling the air with churning yellow dust.

“Satisfied?” Squirrelpaw meowed sarcastically.

“Sorry.” Brambleclaw jumped down to rejoin the others.

“Squirrelpaw’s right. There is a monster in the field.”

“Then we’d better get on as quickly as we can, before it sees us,” Stormfur meowed.

“They’re supposed to stay on the Thunderpath,” Feathertail complained. “It’s not fair!”

Crowpaw dabbed warily at the thick, spiky stems in the field. “This is no good,” he spat. “We’ll all have scratched pads if we try walking across that. We’ll have to go around the edge.”

He glared at the other cats as he spoke, as if he were expecting one of them to contradict him, but there was no reply except a murmur of agreement from Feathertail.

Crowpaw had good ideas, Brambleclaw decided, if only he’d be less aggressive about sharing them.

The WindClan apprentice led the way and the rest followed, keeping close to the hedge so that they would be able to hide if the monster came after them. There was a narrow grassy space between the hedge and the rough yellow stems, just wide enough for the cats to walk in single file.

“Look at that!” Tawnypelt exclaimed.

She twitched her ears toward a mouse crouched among the spikes, nibbling at seeds that were strewn on the ground.

Before any other cat could move, Squirrelpaw pounced, rolled over among the crackling stems, and scrambled to her paws again with the mouse in her jaws.

“Here,” she meowed, dropping it in front of Tawnypelt.

“You saw it first.”

“I can catch my own, thanks,” Tawnypelt mewed dryly.

Now that Brambleclaw knew what to look for, he realized there were more mice scuffling among the stems, stuffing themselves on the scattered seeds. It was almost as if StarClan had sent them the chance to hunt and feed well. Once Squirrelpaw had eaten he sent her to keep watch in another tree, to report if the monster changed direction and came toward them.

But the monster kept its distance. Brambleclaw felt more hopeful and stronger from the food when they went on, especially as the sun started to sink and he could check their direction. Before long they were able to leave the strange, spiky field, and the going became easier. The air was heavy with the heat of the day; bees hummed in the grasses and a butterfly flew past. Squirrelpaw dabbed a paw at it, but she looked too drowsy to chase it.

Tawnypelt had taken the lead as they approached the edge of the meadow, with Stormfur and Squirrelpaw just behind her and Crowpaw with Feathertail. Brambleclaw, bringing up the rear, kept a lookout behind for possible danger.

This time there was no hedge, but a Twoleg fence, made of some thin, shiny material. It was a kind of mesh, like inter-laced twigs, except that the spaces were regular. They were too small to climb through, but there was a gap at the bottom where a cat could flatten itself against the ground and squeeze underneath.

Brambleclaw scrabbled his way under, feeling the fence stuff scrape against his back. Beside him, Stormfur was doing the same. As Brambleclaw straightened up again, he heard a furious wail from farther down the fence.

“I’m stuck!”

The voice was Squirrelpaw’s. Heaving a sigh, Brambleclaw padded along the fence toward her, with Stormfur beside him.

Crowpaw and Feathertail were already standing beside the young apprentice, and Tawnypelt came up a moment later.

“Well, what are you all staring at?” Squirrelpaw meowed.

“Get me out!”

The ginger apprentice was flat on her belly, halfway beneath the fence. Just where she had tried to slide through, the fence stuff had started to come unraveled, and the ends were tangled in her fur. Every time she wriggled, the sharp ends of fence stuff dug into her skin and made her squeak with pain.

“Keep still,” Brambleclaw ordered. He turned and studied the sturdy wooden post. “Then we can see what to do. Maybe if we dig up the fence post the stuff will come loose.” The post looked pretty solidly set in the ground, but if they all helped…

“It would be quicker to bite through the fence,” Stormfur argued. He tugged at the shiny strands with his front teeth, but they did not give way. He straightened up, spitting. “No, it’s too tough.”

“I could have told you that,” Crowpaw meowed. “Far better to bite through her fur and free her that way.”

“You leave my fur alone, mouse-brain!” Squirrelpaw snapped.

The WindClan apprentice bared his teeth with the hint of a snarl. “If you’d been more careful, this wouldn’t have happened. If we can’t get you out, you’ll have to stay here.”

“No, she won’t!” Stormfur rounded on the other cat. “I’ll stay with her, if no one else will.”

“Fine.” Crowpaw shrugged. “You stay here, and the four of us who are actually chosen will go on without you.”

Stormfur’s neck fur bristled and he sank his weight onto his haunches so that his leg muscles bulged under the dark gray fur; the two cats were heartbeats away from a fight. With a stab of panic Brambleclaw realized that two or three sheep had wandered up and were staring at the group of cats, while from farther away came the sharp barking of a dog. They would have to move quickly.

“That’s enough,” he meowed, thrusting himself between the two hostile toms. “No cat is being left behind. There must be a way to get Squirrelpaw out of there.”

He turned back to the apprentice to see Tawnypelt and Feathertail crouched beside her. Feathertail was chewing up dock leaves. “Honestly!” she exclaimed as she spat out the last of them and shot an exasperated glance at Brambleclaw. “Do you toms never do anything but argue?”

“It’s what they do best,” Tawnypelt mewed, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. “That’s right, spread the dock leaves on her fur. They should make it good and slippery. Breathe in, Squirrelpaw. You’ve been eating too many mice.”

Brambleclaw watched as Feathertail worked the chewed-up dock into Squirrelpaw’s pelt, rubbing it with one forepaw into the tangle of fur around the fence stuff.

“Now try again,” Tawnypelt directed.

Squirrelpaw scrabbled at the ground with her forepaws and tried to use her hind legs to push herself forward. “It’s not working!” She gasped.

“Yes, it is.” Feathertail’s voice was tense, and she pressed her paw against Squirrelpaw’s shoulder, which was slippery with green slime. “Keep going.”

“And hurry!” Brambleclaw added.

The dog barked again and the watching sheep scattered.

Dog-scent drifted toward them on the breeze, getting stronger.

Stormfur and Crowpaw braced themselves to flee.

Squirrelpaw gave one last enormous heave and shot through into the field. A knot of ginger fur slid off the fence stuff; a few strands of it were left behind, but Squirrelpaw was free. She stood up and shook herself. “Thanks,” she meowed to Feathertail and Tawnypelt. “That was a brilliant idea!”

She was right; Brambleclaw wished he had been the one to think of it. But at least they could go on now, straight into the path of the setting sun—and quickly, before that dog reached them. He led the way across the next field, confident that StarClan were guiding them.

When he woke the next morning, Brambleclaw was dismayed to see the sky covered by a thick layer of cloud. His confidence in StarClan’s guidance faltered. This was what he had been afraid of; perhaps it was just luck that had kept the sky clear until now. How was he supposed to know which way to go if he couldn’t see the sun?

Scrambling to his paws, he saw that his companions were still sleeping. The night before they had found no better shelter than a hollow place in a field under a couple of scrawny thorn trees. Brambleclaw found that he was growing more and more nervous without the familiar forest canopy overhead. He had never realized before how much he and his Clan mates relied on the trees: for prey, for shelter, and for concealment. Anxiety over Bluestar’s prophecy bit even more sharply, as if badger’s teeth were closing in his neck.

Paws itching to be on their way, he climbed the side of the hollow and looked around. The sky was unbroken gray; the air felt damp, as if there were rain to come. In the distance was a belt of trees, and the walls of more Twoleg nests. Brambleclaw hoped that their path would not lead them back among Twolegs.

“Brambleclaw! Brambleclaw!”

Some cat was calling his name excitedly. Brambleclaw turned to see Feathertail racing toward him up the side of the hollow.

“I’ve had it!” she exclaimed as she drew closer.

“Had what?”

“My saltwater sign!” Feathertail let out a delighted purr. “I dreamed of padding along a stretch of stony ground, with water washing over it. When I bent down to take a drink, the water was all salty, and I woke up tasting it.”

“That’s great, Feathertail.” Brambleclaw’s anxiety faded a little. StarClan were still watching over them.

“That means that Crowpaw is the only one of us who hasn’t had a sign,” Feathertail went on, glancing down into the hollow where Brambleclaw could just see the gray-black curve of Crowpaw’s back as he slept in a clump of grass.

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him about your dream, then?” he suggested uneasily.

“We can’t do that!” Feathertail looked shocked. “He’d find out sooner or later, and then he’d think we were deliberately deceiving him. No,” she added after pausing to think, “let me tell him. I’ll wait to catch him in a good mood.”

Brambleclaw snorted. “You’ll wait a long time, then.”

Feathertail let out a faint mew of distress. “Oh, Brambleclaw. Crowpaw’s not so bad. It was hard for him, leaving the forest just when he was about to be made a warrior. I think he’s lonely—I have Stormfur, and you have Tawnypelt and Squirrelpaw. We all knew each other before this, but Crowpaw is on his own.”

Brambleclaw hadn’t thought of that before. It was worth thinking about, though it wouldn’t make it any easier to get on with Crowpaw the next time he started arguing the smallest point.

“We’re all loyal to our Clans,” he meowed. “And to the forest and the warrior code. Crowpaw is no different. He’d be fine if he didn’t want to be leader all the time, when he’s no more than an apprentice.”

Feathertail still looked uneasy. “Even if you’re right, it won’t make it any easier for him, knowing he’s the only one who hasn’t had a vision.”

Briefly Brambleclaw touched Feathertail’s muzzle with his own. “You tell him, then, when you think best.” Glancing around, he added, “We’d better wake them all and get moving. If we can work out which way to go.”

“That way.” Feathertail sounded confident as she waved her tail toward the belt of trees on the far side of the field.

“That’s where the sun went down last night.”

And after that? Brambleclaw wondered. If there was no sun, how could they find their way? Would StarClan send them something else to help them find the sun-drown place? As he padded down into the hollow to wake his companions, he sent up a quick prayer to his warrior ancestors.

Show us the way, please. And guard us all when the trouble comes—whatever it is.