Starlight

Chapter 9

Brambleclaw slipped through the trees, jaws parted to distinguish ThunderClan scent from among the mingled Clan scents that hovered in the air. It wasn’t easy; they had traveled together for so long that the Clans no longer kept their separate, distinctive scents. Cats were darting everywhere, trying to say good-bye to friends in other Clans. There was so much activity, so much tension crackling between different cats that Brambleclaw could almost imagine he was in the thick of a battle—except in this battle there were no enemies.

Already it was sunhigh, and Firestar was eager to set out for the new territory. He had sent Brambleclaw to make sure no cat was left behind when they set out for their new home.

Brambleclaw spotted Mousefur saying good-bye to Heavystep from RiverClan. The ThunderClan warrior looked thin and tired. Perhaps when they reached their new camp it would be time for her to join the elders.

“Hi, Mousefur,” he meowed. “Firestar would like us all to gather near the stump now.” He carefully avoided giving her a direct order; Mousefur had a short temper, and he didn’t want his tail snapped off.

“Okay, I’m coming.” Mousefur gave Heavystep’s ear a quick lick. “Go safely,” she told him. “I’ll see you at the Gathering.”

“Good-bye, Mousefur.” Heavystep watched her go before nodding to Brambleclaw and slipping into the trees where RiverClan was gathering.

Brambleclaw almost ran into Squirrelflight, who skidded around the trunk of a tree right under his paws.

“Hi, I was looking for you,” she panted. “Come with me.”

She doubled back and led him down into a small hollow where Tawnypelt and Crowfeather were waiting. “We have to say good-bye properly,” she meowed. “This is the end of our journey, now the Clans are separating.”

A thorn of sorrow pierced Brambleclaw’s heart.

Squirrelflight was right. Their quest was at an end. They had faced danger side by side, and somewhere amid the fear, the darkness, and the desperate race to save their Clanmates, they had found true friendship. But their first loyalty had to be to their Clans. It seemed like nine lifetimes ago that they had first left the forest, and sometimes it was even hard to remember how strong their friendship had been on their long journey to sun-drown-place. Brambleclaw looked at Squirrelflight and wondered if she would still trust him with her life.

He padded over to Crowfeather and Tawnypelt and touched noses with them. Gazing into their eyes, he saw memories swimming there like fish.

“We’ll never forget what we did,” Tawnypelt murmured.

“We’ll be stronger all our lives for it.”

All four cats stood in silence until Crowfeather mewed somberly, “We should be six.”

Brambleclaw flinched as he thought of the two cats who would never return to their Clan: Feathertail, who had selflessly given her life, and Stormfur, left behind with the Tribe of Rushing Water.

“We are six,” Squirrelflight mewed softly. “They’ll always be with us as long as we remember them.”

Crowfeather’s gaze was fixed on the far distance. In a voice almost too low to hear, he murmured, “Sometimes remembering is not enough.”

Tawnypelt gave herself a shake. “Well, this won’t catch any prey,” she meowed. “I’d best be off. I’ll see you all at the Gathering.”

She turned and bounded away, the others calling good-byes after her.

Crowfeather dipped his head. “May you travel safely,” he mewed, beginning to back away.

“We’ll be traveling together for a while,” Brambleclaw pointed out. “We have to cross your territory to reach ours.”

“But we must keep with our own Clans now.” Crowfeather turned and disappeared over the top of the hollow.

Brambleclaw stared after him, wishing there were something he could do about Crowfeather’s stubborn belief that he had to do everything alone. His grief for Feathertail seemed to have convinced him that friendship brought nothing but pain.

Squirrelflight brushed his ear with her tail-tip. “Come on.

Firestar will be looking for us.”

On their way back to the clearing they caught up with Mousefur’s apprentice, Spiderpaw, who was saying good-bye to a couple of RiverClan apprentices. Squirrelflight gave him a friendly cuff around the ear and told him to come with them before he got left behind.

When they reached the stump they found the rest of ThunderClan sitting in small groups, waiting to leave.

Dustpelt was trying to check that every cat was there.

“Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight are missing,” he meowed irritably to Firestar as Brambleclaw came within earshot.

“And Spiderpaw—oh, there you are,” he added as he spotted them. “Right, Firestar, that’s every cat.”

“Good,” meowed Firestar.

He leaped onto the tree stump, where Blackstar was already waiting. Leopardstar joined them a moment later, and Onewhisker raced across from WindClan and sat below them, among the roots. There was only room for three cats to stand on the stump—but Brambleclaw noticed Mudclaw give a tiny satisfied nod, as if he was pleased Onewhisker hadn’t been able to stand with the other leaders. A chill ran through his fur. This was not the start WindClan needed for their new life beside the lake.

The rest of the cats stirred restlessly, and one or two stood up and clawed the ground. They were too excited at the prospect of finding their new homes to sit quietly and listen to their leaders.

“The four of us have been discussing possible boundaries,” Blackstar began, “and we need to tell you what we have decided.”

Brambleclaw’s ears pricked. Wasn’t it rather early to settle this? After all, his patrol hadn’t had a chance to explore every pawstep of the new territories. But maybe it was better to prepare the cats for the extent of each territory, to avoid one Clan claiming more than their share.

“Tawnypelt reported a small Thunderpath running alongside the pine woods,” Blackstar went on. “ShadowClan will take that for its boundary with RiverClan. Farther around the lake, the clearing where the stream runs through the middle can be the boundary with ThunderClan.”

“We don’t know how far upstream the clearing goes,” Tawnypelt reminded him from where she sat among her Clanmates. “We’ll need to mark the boundary through the trees as well.”

Blackstar nodded. “We’ll check that out as soon as we arrive.”

“Then ThunderClan’s territory will begin at the clearing,” Firestar meowed. “And Brambleclaw says there’s a stream on the other side of the woods, at the foot of the ridge of hills, that might make a good boundary with WindClan.”

“RiverClan’s territory will begin here at the horseplace.”

Leopardstar spoke up. “And stretch as far as the Thunderpath at the edge of the pinewoods.”

“Then WindClan territory will be from the horseplace to the stream that Firestar mentioned,” Onewhisker meowed.

Brambleclaw caught Tawnypelt’s eye across the clearing and nodded. That sounded fair. Each Clan would have a good stretch of territory with access to the lake and plenty of space for hunting the prey they were most used to.

“This is only a rough idea,” Firestar warned. “We need to get to know the territory better before we put down our scent markers. We’ll announce the exact boundaries at the next Gathering.”

“And let’s try to do it without fighting,” Barkface called out. “Before you claw some warrior’s ear off, kindly remember that we medicine cats haven’t had time to build up our stores of herbs yet.”

A ripple of amusement passed through the cats, and Brambleclaw spotted more than one warrior nodding in agreement. But it wasn’t the threat of a low supply of herbs that made fighting seem wrong. Much more than that, it would feel strange to fight cats who had struggled side by side to survive the destruction of the forest and the long journey through the mountains.

“Let’s get going,” Firestar urged. “And may StarClan be with us all.” He jumped down and padded over to the ThunderClan cats, his tail sticking straight up in the air with barely restrained excitement. “Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight, you’d better lead, as you know the way.”

Brambleclaw dipped his head and went to the front of the Clan. This felt right—after all, he had brought them this far.

His Clanmates should know how much he had done for them, to find their new home. And maybe, just maybe, Firestar would realize that he deserved to be made deputy.

As they began to make their way through the trees, Onewhisker hailed them, bounding over with his Clan behind him. “I thought we’d travel together for a while,” he meowed to Firestar. “We’re going in the same direction.”

Firestar nodded. “Good idea.”

As they continued, Brambleclaw noticed that Crowfeather was among the cats at the front of his Clan, but the young warrior didn’t even glance sideways at Brambleclaw. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, padding determinedly down toward the shore of the lake where they would pick up a trail that led to the ridge of hills.

Just behind him, Brambleclaw saw Mudclaw scowling at Onewhisker, but it was impossible to tell whether his hostility came from simple envy, or because he didn’t want to travel with ThunderClan.

A little way off, RiverClan and ShadowClan were heading slantwise across the slope in the opposite direction.

Narrowing his eyes, Brambleclaw recognized Hawkfrost at the edge of his Clanmates. At exactly the same instant, he turned and met Brambleclaw’s gaze. Murmuring something to the warrior beside him, he bounded away from his Clan and came over.

“Brambleclaw.” Hawkfrost dipped his head in the formal greeting, but his ice-blue eyes were friendly. “Good luck in your new territory. May StarClan be with you.”

“And with you,” Brambleclaw responded.

“I’m looking forward to meeting you again at Gatherings,” Hawkfrost added. His eyes searched Brambleclaw’s as if there were more that he wanted to say, but a yowl from one of his Clanmates made him jerk his head around. The two Clans had almost reached the shore of the lake, and if he wasn’t careful he would have a long run to catch up. “I have to go,” he meowed to Brambleclaw. “Until the Gathering, then.” He blinked, then whipped around and raced back to his Clan.

“Until the Gathering!” Brambleclaw called after him, and his heart twisted with regret that the opportunity to know his half brother better was gone.

“Do you think we can get a move on?” Squirrelflight complained. “Or are you planning to stand gossiping all day?”

“He was only trying to be friendly!” Brambleclaw retorted angrily.

“Friendly?” Squirrelflight hissed, her eyes stretched wide with disbelief. “We can do without his friendship. Look at the way he tried to grab the island for RiverClan’s camp.”

“He wasn’t trying to grab the island. No other Clan can use it. He was only trying to do his best for RiverClan.”

“If you believe that, you’ll believe anything.” Squirrelflight whisked around with her tail in the air and stalked on.

As Brambleclaw followed her, he could see tension prickling in every hair on her pelt. His belly clenched with pain. Of all the friendships he had made on the long journey, surely this one should have survived the separation of the Clans?

Instead, it had vanished as quickly as dew in morning sunlight, because Squirrelflight couldn’t bear to see him with his half brother. And if she thought he would rather be friends with Hawkfrost than with her, she was wrong. It was Squirrelflight that Brambleclaw wanted, and he missed her so much it took his breath away.

ThunderClan and WindClan followed the edge of the lake, slipping quietly past the fence of the horseplace and then climbing the hill a little way so they could look down on the shining expanse of water. On the shore near the island Brambleclaw could just make out two groups of tiny dots, moving slowly: ShadowClan and RiverClan, heading for their own new territories. At that distance he could not distinguish individual cats, but he knew that his sister, his half brother, and his half sister Mothwing would be among them, and whatever trouble Hawkfrost had caused between him and Squirrelflight, he wished them well.

The cats padded across the hillside together until they reached a narrow fold in the hill with rocks jutting out of the tough grass and a trickle of water along the bottom.

Onewhisker stopped and gathered his Clan around him with a wave of his tail. “We’ll leave you here,” he meowed to Firestar. “This should lead up to the ridge where Crowfeather found our camp.” Dipping his head, he added, “Our thanks go with you to your new home. Without you, WindClan would never have seen these hills.”

Brambleclaw heard a suppressed hiss from among the WindClan warriors. He couldn’t see which cat it came from, but he didn’t need to. Mudclaw would be the first to resent any suggestion that WindClan owed thanks to ThunderClan.

Firestar swept his tail lightly across Onewhisker’s shoulder. “Go well. StarClan has found a good home for all of us.”

Lowering his voice, he added, “If there’s any trouble, let me know. ThunderClan will be glad to help.”

Brambleclaw wasn’t sure he had been meant to hear that, and he drew away in case Firestar realized he was aware of the ThunderClan leader’s promise. Brambleclaw’s fur pricked.

Surely it was a bad idea for Onewhisker to rely on the leader of another Clan for support? And not just that—Onewhisker knew that Firestar and Brambleclaw were the only other cats who knew what Tallstar had said, and not said, when appointing his new deputy. He was relying on them to keep his secret, to be loyal to him beyond the demands of the warrior code, and support his leadership even though it might not be approved by StarClan.

The two leaders made their farewells, echoed by other cats in both Clans as WindClan began the steep climb up the ravine. The ThunderClan cats stood watching them for a while; Brambleclaw noticed Leafpaw, a bunch of herbs in her jaws, looking after the departing Clan with her head tipped questioningly to one side. He wondered if something was worrying her—perhaps StarClan had warned her of trouble on the way for WindClan—but before he could ask, Firestar called his Clan together.

Somehow, now that ThunderClan was on their own, the lake and the land around it seemed to stretch away farther than before, even more unknown and more threatening.

Brambleclaw was acutely aware of every rock or bush that might hide an enemy. His pelt bristled. It was strange that he hadn’t felt the same sense of danger on the patrol. But apart from Mistyfoot, he had faced many dangers with those cats beside him, and he could trust them to look out for themselves as well as one another. Now he had to worry about the safety of his whole Clan, who were less practiced at traveling through unfamiliar territory.

Firestar obviously shared his misgivings. “Every cat stay alert,” he called, and added more quietly, “Brackenfur, Dustpelt, keep guard on the side nearest the lake. Cloudtail and Brightheart, you take the other side. Sandstorm and Sorreltail, stay at the back and make sure no cat falls behind.”

The warriors took up their positions and the Clan moved on. The cheerful meows and joking died away, and the cats padded on in silence, their eyes wide and watchful.

The cold gray light was beginning to fade when they came to a stream at the foot of a gentle slope. On the other side was the wood where Squirrelflight had discovered the stone hollow. Brambleclaw’s ears twitched uncomfortably as he wondered what his Clanmates would think of their new home.

“We crossed this stream before,” Squirrelflight muttered as they paused on the bank. “Once we’re on the other side, we’re really in ThunderClan territory!”

“If we decide to make this our boundary,” Brambleclaw reminded her. “It’s not decided yet.”

The stream was too wide to leap, and the cats hesitated on the bank, looking for stepping-stones or tree branches that might help them cross. As the last of the light died, turning the woods ahead to a rustling mass of shadows, Brambleclaw sensed his Clanmates’ anxiety rising. Ferncloud curled her tail around Birchkit’s shoulders to keep him away from the water, and even the apprentices looked scared.

“What about Longtail?” Mousefur called out. “How do you expect him to get across here?”

“Mouse dung!” Squirrelflight muttered crossly. “We’d better climb the hill to the place we crossed before. It was easier farther up.”

“No, hang on,” Brambleclaw meowed. They didn’t have time for that, not if they wanted to reach the stone hollow before dark. “The water doesn’t look deep. Let’s see if we can wade across.”

He dipped one paw in the water, shivering at its icy touch, then stepped out into the current. The pebbly bottom shelved gently, and he found that even at the deepest place the water didn’t lap much higher than his belly fur.

“Come on!” he called as he leaped out on the opposite bank, shaking each leg in turn to get rid of the water. “It’s easy!”

A couple of yowls of protest rose from the other bank. “If you think I’m getting wet, you’ve got bees in your brain!”

Mousefur called across to him.

Brambleclaw sighed. It would take far longer to climb the hill to the stepping-stones, and if the Clan had to blunder about in the dark looking for their new camp, then the chances were that some cats would discover it the same way Squirrelflight had—by falling over the edge of the cliff. To his relief, he saw Firestar beckoning to his Clan with his tail.

“Come on!” he meowed impatiently. “We’ve come all this way. We’re not going to let a stream stop us now, are we?”

One by one, the Clan began to cross. Cloudtail and Sandstorm went first, wading slowly through the water with their tails washed sideways by the current. Dustpelt carried Birchkit across next, his head tipped back to save the kit from getting too wet, and behind him Brackenfur and Sorreltail guided Longtail. Squirrelflight finally persuaded Mousefur into the water by promising she’d soon be in a warm den, on a bed of dry moss; the older warrior grumbled every pawstep of the way until she pulled herself out on the other side and glared at Brambleclaw as she shook herself dry. Behind her, Squirrelflight rolled her eyes, as if she wasn’t looking forward to collecting all the moss she’d promised on the other side of the stream.

Firestar crossed last. “Right,” he meowed as he joined Brambleclaw on the bank. “Where’s this camp?”

Brambleclaw exchanged a glance with Squirrelflight. They hadn’t approached the hollow from this direction, and in the gathering darkness everything looked different. Squirrelflight was obviously no more certain than he was. She looked blankly back at him and gave the tiniest shake of her head.

Brambleclaw tasted the air, trying to judge their position from the stream and the slope of the hill. “It’s this way,” he meowed at last, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

The Clan followed him into the trees. Brambleclaw veered in front of his Clanmates to walk beside Squirrelflight.

“What if we can’t find it?” he mewed quietly.

Squirrelflight’s green eyes glinted in the darkness as she turned to look at him. “Then we’ll have a lot of furious cats on our tails. Stop worrying,” she added. “It’s around here somewhere. We found it even though we weren’t looking for it before, remember?”

Brambleclaw didn’t tell her that was precisely what he was afraid of—that they’d find the hollow only when a cat fell into it. He suddenly felt very small and vulnerable as he padded through the dead leaves, with smooth gray trunks rising up on every side. Even if we find the hollow, will the others think it’s any good? he wondered desperately.

He was just beginning to hear uneasy muttering from the other cats, who must have realized they weren’t following a direct route, when he saw Squirrelflight’s ears prick up.

“Look!” she meowed. “That gap between the trees over there, with the clump of dead bracken… I’ve seen that before.”

“Are you sure?” Brambleclaw asked, but Squirrelflight was already racing ahead. He followed her into a small clearing and skidded to a halt in front of the tangle of thorns where Squirrelflight had disappeared when she first found the stone hollow.

She was standing in the middle of the clearing, her eyes shining. “This is it!” she yowled triumphantly. Spinning around, she called to the rest of the Clan, “Come on, we’re here!”

Spiderpaw let out a screech of excitement. He broke away from the rest of the Clan and dashed forward, straight into the brambles. Brambleclaw stared in horror. They had found the hollow again, but that wasn’t the way in!

“Come back!” Mousefur called after her apprentice.

There was no reply. Brambleclaw caught a glimpse of his long black tail waving among the thorns and sprang forward, but Squirrelflight was faster.

Yowling, “No!” she burrowed among the thorns after Spiderpaw. Brambleclaw slid underneath the branches and found them on the very edge of the cliff. Squirrelflight had pinned Spiderpaw down with a paw on his neck, her flanks heaving with effort. Beneath her, the apprentice peered over the sheer rock wall, his eyes bulging.

“Stupid furball!” Squirrelflight exclaimed. “Do you want a broken neck?”

“Sorry,” Spiderpaw mumbled. “You said we were here, so I thought_”

Squirrelflight batted him across the ear with one paw, her claws sheathed. “Get back to the others,” she rasped. “And maybe you should try thinking less and listening more next time!”

Brambleclaw almost snorted out loud, hearing Squirrelflight give the same advice she’d heard so many times. He waited until they had crawled away from the cliff before following them out of the brambles.

“What’s going on?” Ferncloud, Spiderpaw’s mother, demanded as they came into the clearing. “Is there something dangerous in those bushes? Why didn’t you warn us before?”

Unease, sharp as a claw, raked down Brambleclaw’s spine.

“Er… we’ve found the camp,” he meowed. “It’s in a hollow on the other side of those brambles.” Hastily he added, “It’s not dangerous once you know where the edge is. Come and see. Not that way!” he growled as Whitepaw bounded curiously over to the thorns.

He and Squirrelflight led the other cats down the slope, weaving between brambles and hazel trees until they reached the gap in the circle of stone. Brambleclaw nervously watched his Clanmates as they filed in and stood looking around at the towering walls. The sky was almost completely dark now, with clouds covering the half-moon, and Brambleclaw had to admit the hollow looked dark and uninviting. There seemed to be more brambles and thornbushes than he remembered, making it feel cramped and overgrown. Some of the undergrowth would be useful for shelter, but the rest would have to be cleared.

Mousefur was the first to speak. “This isn’t a camp! Where are the dens? There’s not enough space for a snake to sun itself here.”

“Hey!” Squirrelflight protested. “You didn’t think StarClan would have it all ready for us, did you? I know there’s a lot of work to do, but think how easy it will be to defend, surrounded by these cliffs.”

“I think it looks great,” Thornclaw meowed. “We’ll soon sort out proper dens, and somewhere for the nursery.”

“I want to explore!” Whitepaw exclaimed, bouncing on her paws. “Can we, Brackenfur? Please!”

Her mentor gave her a gentle nudge. “Wait until tomorrow, when it’s light.”

Goldenflower was standing beside Longtail, her tail curled across his shoulders. “It’s a huge clearing with stone walls,” she mewed softly. “It’s quite dark, but I think the walls are covered with ferns and moss. Can you hear that trickle of water? It sounds more like rain draining off the rock than a proper stream. The hollow is full of brambles and thorn thickets, but there’s plenty of space for the Clan.”

“Then StarClan have brought us to an excellent place,” Longtail meowed. “I can easily imagine us building our camp here.”

Their optimism cheered Brambleclaw up, even though not all the cats shared it. Ferncloud was looking around doubtfully, and Sootfur was sniffing the air with an irritable look, as if he expected prey to leap into his paws.

Mousefur snorted. “Those bushes will be cold and wet and full of ticks, I shouldn’t wonder.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes narrowed, but before she could make a stinging retort Sandstorm flicked her warningly on the ears with her tail.

“Come on, it’s got a lot going for it,” she mewed bracingly.

“Those walls will shelter us from bad weather. And like you said, Squirrelflight, it should be easy to defend.”

“We’ll have to do something about that, though.” Dustpelt nodded his head toward the entrance. “The whole of ShadowClan could be through there in a couple of heartbeats.”

Even though Brambleclaw had thought exactly the same thing when he first saw the hollow, he couldn’t help feeling annoyed. Did his Clanmates expect the camp to be perfect from the first moment they set paw inside it?

“It’s too late to do anything tonight,” Firestar meowed.

“And far too dark. But you’re right, it looks a likely place for a camp,” he added to Brambleclaw. “We can make up our minds for sure when we see it in daylight. Dustpelt, Thornclaw, could you check that we’re not sharing the place with any foxes or badgers? The rest of us can start finding places to sleep.”

The two warriors peeled off from the group and began to circle the hollow in opposite directions, scenting the air every few pawsteps and peering into clefts in the rock and underneath bushes. Feeling as if he couldn’t walk another step, Brambleclaw watched until they were swallowed by the shadows at the foot of the cliff.

“What about fresh-kill?” Rainwhisker asked. “Do we have to go to sleep hungry?”

One or two voices were raised in agreement, and Brambleclaw felt his neck fur begin to rise.

“It’s not long ago we went to sleep hungry every night,” Squirrelflight muttered into his ear. She sounded as disappointed as he was with their Clanmates’ reaction to the hollow. “Why are they complaining so much?”

“We’ve been very well fed since we reached the lake,” Brambleclaw reminded her. “Our bellies are used to being full again. But it won’t do any cat harm to wait until morning to eat.”

“We’ll send out patrols at dawn,” Firestar promised his Clan.

There was some muttering at that, but gradually it died away, and the group began to split up as cats looked for sleeping places.

“Brambleclaw, do you know if there’s a sheltered place for Birchkit?” Ferncloud asked anxiously. “I’m afraid he’ll come down with whitecough if he doesn’t have somewhere warm to sleep.”

“I don’t know,” Brambleclaw admitted, “but I’ll help you look. There are brambles near the wall just a bit farther up.”

“And what about some moss for bedding?” Mousefur broke in. “Are we expected to sleep on bare earth?

Squirrelflight said there would be a warm den waiting for me once I crossed that wretched stream.”

“I can’t do everything!” Brambleclaw snapped, his patience giving way. “You’ll have to do the best you can for tonight.”

Mousefur curled her lip and turned away with her shoulders hunched. Brambleclaw felt his fur prickle, and looked up to see Firestar watching him. The Clan leader’s eyes were expressionless, but Brambleclaw knew that if he wanted to be Clan deputy, losing his temper with one of the older warriors wasn’t the best way of going about it.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, padding after Mousefur. “I’ll come and help when I’ve settled Ferncloud, okay?”

“No, I’ll do it.” Brackenfur came over and pressed his muzzle against Mousefur’s shoulder. “Don’t take it out on Brambleclaw,” he told her. “He’s doing his best.”

Mousefur sniffed. “His best is pretty poor, then.”

“You’ll feel better when you’ve had a good sleep,” Brackenfur promised. “Come on, let’s take a look among the ferns over there.”

With a sympathetic glance at Brambleclaw, he headed for the rock wall. Mousefur followed him, her tail trailing over the damp grass. Brambleclaw felt a stab of pity for her. The elderly warrior wasn’t usually this difficult; she must be exhausted from the journey, and as scared as any of them about finding a new home.

As he helped Ferncloud look for a nest for her kit, he thought about the way Brackenfur had dealt with Mousefur.

The ginger warrior had been good-humored and calm in spite of her ill temper, showing his moons of experience in caring for his Clanmates. Didn’t that mean he deserved to be deputy more than Brambleclaw? Brambleclaw curled his tail in discomfort. Not just Brackenfur—several other cats had been warriors for longer than him, like Dustpelt and Cloudtail.

But that wasn’t the only reason Brambleclaw might never become deputy. He carried a burden that no other ThunderClan warrior shared: Tigerstar. When they were leaving the forest, Firestar had declared that all Tigerstar’s children had earned their places within their Clans; he had been trying to persuade Hawkfrost and Mothwing to stay in RiverClan rather than leave with Sasha, their rogue mother, but Brambleclaw knew he had been thinking of Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, too. Even so, no cat could forget the degree of hostility between Firestar and Tigerstar that had almost destroyed every Clan in the forest with the heat of its flame, and Brambleclaw doubted that his leader would ever be able to look at him and not see the ghost of his old enemy padding at his shoulder.

By the time he had found a place for Ferncloud and Birchkit among the brambles and scraped up some dead bracken to make a nest, most of the other cats had found sleeping places. Instinctively he looked around for Squirrelflight, spotting her among a patch of ferns with some of the younger warriors.

Brambleclaw called her name, but if she heard him she didn’t reply. Instead she curled up beside Ashfur, her dark ginger fur mingling with his gray pelt. Brambleclaw took a step toward her, then turned away. If she was waiting for him to apologize for speaking to Hawkfrost, she would have to wait a very long time.

Looking for a sheltered spot of his own, he passed his mother, Goldenflower, who had just settled Longtail into a nest of dried bracken. It looked as if the tabby warrior was asleep already, his sightless eyes tightly shut and his tail curled over his nose.

“Cheer up,” Goldenflower meowed. “Everything’s going to be fine; I know it is.”

Brambleclaw slumped down beside her. He was too tired to pretend this was how he had wanted the Clan to arrive in their new home. “It wouldn’t hurt for every cat to be a bit more enthusiastic,” he complained.

Goldenflower pressed her muzzle against his flank and let out an affectionate purr. “We’re exhausted. What do you expect? Every cat knows how much we owe to you. If we’d stayed in the forest, we would be dead by now. Instead, you brought us here. We’re safe.”

“I know, but—”

“So the journey’s end isn’t quite what you hoped for. Right now I can’t see that that matters.” She drew her tongue over his ears in a brisk lick; for a moment Brambleclaw felt like a kit again, and wished himself back in the nursery with Tawnypelt beside him, and nothing more urgent to worry about than their next feed, or whether it was warm enough to play outside.

“Get some sleep,” his mother told him, moving away and breaking the illusion. “Everything will look better in the morning.”