Twilight

Chapter 7

Squirrelflight paused beside a clump of bracken, drawing in the scent of the fresh green fronds. Sunlit dew sparkled on every blade of grass, and the whole forest seemed to be waking up after the long sleep of leaf-bare.

Another deep breath brought the scent of cat. Not ThunderClan, and not ShadowClan either, though she was near their border. Squirrelflight froze, glancing from side to side. A bracken frond waved, and she caught a glimpse of a strange tabby cat creeping along with its belly fur brushing the ground.

Squirrelflight thought at first that a rogue had wandered into their territory; a heartbeat later she realized it must be one of the kittypets she and Brambleclaw had fought with when they first explored the land around the lake. Their Twoleg nest was in ShadowClan’s territory, but this crowfood-eating tabby wouldn’t give a mouse tail for Clan boundaries.

Dropping into the hunter’s crouch, Squirrelflight started to creep up on it, but she hadn’t taken more than a couple of pawsteps when she heard the rest of her patrol approaching: Thornclaw, Ashfur, and Sootfur. Mousebrains! she thought.

Clumping around like horses!

She warned them to keep back with a flick of her tail, but the tabby had already heard them. Squirrelflight saw the brown shape streak out of the middle of the bracken, and she sprang forward in pursuit. Behind her, she heard Ashfur yowl, “Hey, Squirrelflight, stop!” but she ignored him.

She dashed after the intruder, determined to give it a well-clawed ear to teach it not to come back, but the kittypet had too good a start. “Mouse dung!” she spat when she lost it in a patch of thick undergrowth. She turned back to join the rest of the patrol. To her surprise they were standing bunched together, staring at her with worried looks on their faces.

“Squirrelflight, you mousebrain!” Sootfur called out.

Before she reached the others, Brambleclaw shouldered his way through the undergrowth, with Sandstorm just behind him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“I spotted one of those kittypets from ShadowClan territory.” Squirrelflight was puzzled and angry at how hostile he sounded. What was he accusing her of now? “We’re supposed to chase trespassers on a border patrol, right?”

“Right,” meowed Brambleclaw. “What you’re not allowed to do is cross the border into another Clan’s territory.

Suppose a ShadowClan patrol had seen you?”

“But I didn’t…” Squirrelflight’s voice trailed off.

Suddenly she spotted the dead tree that was one of the boundary markers. She must have chased the kittypet straight past it. “I didn’t notice any scent marks,” she argued, padding forward until she was on the right side of the border again.

“The markings are really faint.” Ashfur had been over to sniff at the roots of the dead tree. “Leave her alone, Brambleclaw. Any cat could have made the same mistake.”

Sandstorm gave Ashfur a look from narrowed green eyes.

“Squirrelflight can answer for herself,” she mewed. “She’s not usually lost for words.”

Squirrelflight blinked gratefully at Ashfur. She didn’t need him or any cat to spring to her defense, but it was good of him to support her. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t notice.”

“The markings are faint,” Thornclaw agreed. “I don’t think ShadowClan have renewed them for days.”

“What’s the matter with them?” Sandstorm wondered.

“ShadowClan are usually the first to make sure that no cat crosses their borders.”

Squirrelflight shrugged. “If they can’t be bothered to set their markers, they can’t object if some cat crosses the boundary by mistake.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Brambleclaw sighed. “But for StarClan’s sake, be a bit more careful next time.”

“She will be.” Ashfur sprang to Squirrelflight’s defense again, unaware of the furious look she gave him this time. She was even angrier when she noticed a surprised glance from Sandstorm, as if her mother couldn’t believe she was depending on Ashfur for protection. “Anyway, Brambleclaw,” the gray tomcat went on, “it’s not your place to tell her what to do.”

“It’s any cat’s place,” Brambleclaw retorted, his neck fur starting to bristle. “Do you want trouble with ShadowClan?”

Ashfur unsheathed his claws. “That’s not the point!”

“Hang on!” Squirrelflight protested. “I don’t want—”

“That’s enough.” Sandstorm stalked over and confronted the three quarreling cats. “Let’s get back to camp before ShadowClan cats do turn up and find us ruffling each other’s fur.”

She stalked off in the direction of the camp. Sootfur and Thornclaw followed, but Brambleclaw and Ashfur hesitated, still giving each other an angry stare. Squirrelflight felt thoroughly exasperated with both of them.

“You go on ahead,” she snapped to Ashfur.

Ashfur looked startled. “Oh—okay. I’ll see you back at camp.” With a frustrated lash of his tail he padded off after the others.

“You can’t blame him for wanting to take care of you.”

Bramblelclaw’s words could have been approving, but his tone was critical as if he were remembering all the times on their journey when Squirrelflight had been furious with him for trying to protect her.

“At least there’s one cat I know I can trust with my life!” she hissed.

Brambleclaw’s eyes widened. “Only one, Squirrelflight?”

“Yes!” she spat back. She felt so far away from him now it was impossible to remember she had once looked at him with warmth. “At least Ashfur doesn’t keep going off with a cat from another Clan—a cat who can’t be trusted!”

The hurt in Brambleclaw’s eyes faded, to be replaced by rage. “That’s what you want, is it? A loyal warrior to pad after you and smooth all the thorns out of your path? I never used to think you were like that. I believed better of you.”

“Believe what you like!”

Brambleclaw drew his lips back in the beginnings of a snarl. Before he could speak, the undergrowth behind Squirrelflight rustled. She whirled around to see that Ashfur had come back.

“What do you want now?” she growled.

Ashfur looked bewildered. “I’m sorry. I wondered why you didn’t catch up, so I came back to make sure you’re okay.”

Squirrelflight sighed and let the fur lie flat on her neck.

Ashfur would have to learn that she could stand up for herself, but at least he was straightforward. He said what he meant, and no cat could doubt his loyalty to his Clan. If Brambleclaw was a deep pool shadowed by forest trees, Ashfur was like the lake, glittering in sunlight. Squirrelflight suddenly found herself longing for the sun.

“I’m fine,” she meowed, touching her muzzle to Ashfur’s.

“Let’s go.”

She headed away from the border, with Ashfur at her side.

But all the while she was conscious of Brambleclaw’s amber gaze upon her, until the ferns closed around her and she was hidden from his sight.

When Squirrelflight returned to camp, the stone hollow was full of activity. Cloudtail and Brightheart were just emerging from the warriors’ den; their daughter, Whitepaw, dashed across the clearing to join them, meowing loudly. The elders had already taken their places at the foot of the rocks beneath the Highledge. Firestar was making his way down the stony path from his den to the floor of the hollow.

“What’s happening?” Squirrelflight asked as more warriors appeared from their den.

“Firestar just called a meeting.” Leafpool spoke behind her.

Squirrelflight thought she looked subdued, as if she was still recovering from the fierce scolding Cinderpelt had given her for staying out all night in RiverClan. “It’s time for Birchkit to be made an apprentice.”

“Great!” Squirrelflight gave a little bounce of delight. For the first time she noticed Ferncloud at the entrance of the nursery, vigorously grooming Birchkit’s pelt while the young cat wriggled with excitement. Dustpelt sat close by, looking ready to burst with pride. “The first new apprentice in our new home. Who’s going to mentor him?”

“I have no idea,” Leafpool meowed, beginning to cheer up.

She glanced around the clearing as if she were trying to guess who the new mentor would be.

Squirrelflight and Ashfur found places among the other cats grouped in a semicircle around Firestar. She would have liked to mentor Birchkit herself, but she suspected she hadn’t been a warrior long enough to be chosen, when so many more experienced cats were without an apprentice. Besides, Sandstorm followed Firestar down the rocks from his den, and she gave Squirrelflight a hard look as she padded past to sit beside Brackenfur. She must have told Firestar what had happened on the ShadowClan border. Sighing, Squirrelflight guessed she would have to start thinking before she acted if she wanted to be trusted with the responsibility of mentoring an apprentice.

When all the cats had gathered, Firestar summoned Birchkit with a flick of his tail. The young gray cat padded forward; although he was shaking with nerves he stood before Firestar with head and tail held high. His pelt gleamed in the sunlight and his eyes shone. Squirrelflight felt a rush of admiration for him. His littermates, Larchkit and Hollykit, had died from starvation when the Twolegs tore up the old forest.

Birchkit had lost his home too, but he had shown great courage for such a young cat.

Squirrelflight noticed Brambleclaw, crouched by himself a couple of tail-lengths away from her; ambition flared in his amber eyes as he gazed at Birchkit. She could see how desperately he wanted the young cat as his apprentice, and she wondered why he should care so much more than the other warriors.

Then claws gripped deep in her belly as the answer came to her. Warriors could not be chosen as deputy unless they had mentored an apprentice. With Graystripe’s fate still unknown, it couldn’t be long before Firestar had to name another cat in his place. If Brambleclaw were to stand a chance, he had to have an apprentice. And there were no more kits in the Clan.

Seeing Brambleclaw now, focused on Birchkit as if the young cat were a particularly juicy piece of fresh-kill, Squirrelflight couldn’t help asking herself what Brambleclaw would be prepared to do to feed such fierce ambition. Could he really become a killer like his father, Tigerstar?

Firestar waited for the Clan to grow silent. “This is a good day for ThunderClan,” he began. “By naming apprentices, we show that ThunderClan will survive and remain strong.

Birchkit, from now on you will be known as Birchpaw.”

Birchpaw nodded enthusiastically.

“Ashfur, you are ready for an apprentice,” Firestar continued. “You will be Birchpaw’s mentor.”

Squirrelflight saw Brambleclaw’s eyes blaze in disbelief.

His muscles tensed as if he were about to spring to his paws, but he held himself still. Not even the most ambitious cat would challenge a leader’s choice of mentor.

Squirrelflight turned to look at Ashfur. Pride and happiness shone in his eyes as Birchpaw scampered toward him.

“Ashfur,” Firestar continued, “you too have known loss and grief, and found the strength to deal with them.”

He was talking about the death of Brindleface, Ashfur’s mother. She had been murdered by Tigerstar and left as bait for the dog pack to lure them into the old ThunderClan camp. All that had happened before Squirrelflight was born, but every cat in the Clan had heard the story over and over again.

“I know you will pass on your strength to Birchpaw,” Firestar meowed, “and teach him the skills that will make him a brave warrior of ThunderClan.”

Eyes brimming with excitement, Birchpaw stretched up, and Ashfur bent his head to touch noses with him.

“Birchpaw! Birchpaw!” The Clan welcomed the apprentice with his new name. Ferncloud and Dustpelt bounded over to him, Ferncloud purring too loudly to speak, and Dustpelt gave his son a quick lick of congratulations.

“You never told me Firestar chose you!” Squirrelflight exclaimed to Ashfur, too happy for him to feel really indignant.

Ashfur’s blue eyes glowed as he turned and gave her shoulder a swift lick. “I wanted to surprise you,” he replied.

With the ceremony over, Birchpaw started to look a bit lost, as if he wasn’t sure what happened next. Whitepaw darted across and pressed her muzzle against his. “Come on,” she meowed. “I’ll show you the apprentices’ den. We’ll fetch some more moss for your bedding. And I’ll ask Brackenfur if we can train together tomorrow.”

Birchpaw glanced at his mentor for permission to go with her, and when Ashfur nodded, he followed Whitepaw across the clearing. They both disappeared into the brambles where the apprentices slept.

“I never thought Firestar would choose me,” Ashfur murmured, watching him go. “I still can’t believe it!”

Squirrelflight pressed her nose into the fur on his shoulder. “You deserve it as much as any cat,” she meowed.

But her gaze slid past him to Brambleclaw. The big tabby tom had risen to his paws and was gazing at her and Ashfur with envy and frustration in his eyes. A tremor of fear went through Squirrelflight. What would he do now, when his hopes of becoming deputy had been frustrated yet again?

“Squirrelflight.” Sandstorm was calling to her a few tail-lengths away. “Come here a moment.”

Squirrelflight padded over to her mother. “What is it?”

“That quarrel today, by the ShadowClan border.

Brambleclaw and Ashfur were close to fighting, and that’s not good for the Clan.”

Squirrelflight’s pelt prickled. “It wasn’t my fault,” she muttered mutinously. “Why tell me about it?”

The tip of Sandstorm’s tail twitched back and forth.

“Come on, Squirrelflight, you know better than that. Any cat can have problems, but you shouldn’t let yours get in the way of your duty to the Clan.”

Squirrelflight forced herself to meet her mother’s eyes and saw sympathy there in spite of her stern words. “Okay,” she mewed. “I’ll do my best. But there are times when they both behave like furballs.”

Amusement glimmered in Sandstorm’s green eyes. “That’s tomcats for you.” She rested her tail on Squirrelflight’s shoulder for a moment before heading toward the fresh-kill pile.

Squirrelflight watched Brambleclaw slipping between the thorn branches into the warriors’ den. His head was down and his tail trailed on the ground.

The cat Squirrelflight thought she had known would have accepted his disappointment and moved on, given up his hopes of being deputy, and concentrated on being a loyal ThunderClan warrior.

But Brambleclaw wasn’t that cat anymore. Fear tingled through Squirrelflight again as she wondered just how far he would go to fulfill his ambition.