Chapter 20

Rootspring crouched beneath an arching clump of ferns a couple of tail-lengths from the ThunderClan border. His head raised, he parted his jaws to taste the air for fresh ThunderClan scent. As long as he didn’t cross the border, he hoped that he wouldn’t be in trouble if he was caught here.

But I’d still have a problem explaining just what I’m doing. I’d rather not be seen by any ThunderClan cats.

He had been crouching beneath the ferns for so long that his legs were starting to stiffen and ache; he knew it might be difficult if he had to make a quick escape to avoid the rival Clan. But as much as he wanted to stand up and stretch, he forced himself to stay in hiding, waiting for Bristlefrost.

Rootspring was beginning to wonder whether he was ever going to see any ThunderClan warrior, but finally the long grass on the other side of the border parted and a cat came into view. It wasn’t the cat Rootspring wanted to see, though: It was the false Bramblestar, heading along the border.

Rootspring tensed as he watched the dark tabby tom, noticing that his pelt looked dull, as if he hadn’t groomed it in the last moon. He couldn’t relax until the impostor padded safely out of sight and his scent began to fade.

Where is he going? he asked himself, then gave his pelt a shake to dismiss the question. It isn’t time to confront Bramblestar yet, not until Leafstar and Tigerstar agree. I’m not here for Bramblestar.

Once he was certain that the ThunderClan leader had left, Rootspring crept a little closer to the border, scanning the territory for any sign of Bristlefrost. Eventually he spotted her, winding her way through a clump of elder bushes, with Molewhisker and Hollytuft following her. They were clearly a hunting patrol; Rootspring’s jaws began to water at the scent of the prey they carried.

When she was only a couple of fox-lengths from the border, Bristlefrost halted and dropped the vole she was carrying. All three cats looked uncomfortable; Rootspring was too far away to hear what Bristlefrost was saying, but she seemed to be giving the two older warriors instructions.

Since the other warriors had their backs to Rootspring, he risked rising to his paws and padding a bit closer, bushing out his fur to make himself as big as possible.

Come on, Bristlefrost—look at me!

Finally, Bristlefrost’s gaze fell on him, and her eyes widened slightly. Rootspring gestured with his tail for Bristlefrost to meet him up a nearby tree, but the pale gray she-cat looked back toward the ThunderClan warriors. To Rootspring’s relief, she didn’t give him away.

Now that he had moved within earshot, Rootspring could make out what Bristlefrost and the others were saying.

“We’ve hunted well,” Bristlefrost meowed. “You can take the prey back to camp.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Hollytuft asked. Her voice sounded a little cold.

Bristlefrost shook her head. “I just remembered that Flipclaw asked me to bring back a few sprigs of chervil, if I could find any.”

“Okay,” Molewhisker responded, exchanging a glance with Hollytuft. “We’ll see you back at camp.”

He and Hollytuft collected their prey, including Bristlefrost’s vole, and headed off in the direction of the ThunderClan camp. Bristlefrost stood looking after them until they disappeared into the undergrowth.

Meanwhile, Rootspring crept toward the tree, setting his paws down as quietly as he could, and leaped up onto the lowest branch, hiding himself among the leaves while he waited nervously to see if Bristlefrost would join him.

Finally he heard her clawing her way up the trunk, and then he spotted her clambering onto the branch beside him, struggling to get her balance as the branch dipped under their combined weight.

“Have you got bees in your brain, showing up like this?” she asked him. “If Bramblestar had seen you when he was out on his walk . . .”

“Yeah, about that,” Rootspring mewed. “Where was he going?”

“I have no idea.” Bristlefrost twitched her whiskers irritably. “Or what he’s doing. I—”

“Never mind him, then,” Rootspring interrupted. “It’s you I’m concerned about. Every cat, except maybe Squirrelflight, seems to think you’re a traitor.” He hesitated for a heartbeat before asking the question that had been buzzing in his brain ever since the meeting. Even though I’m dreading what her answer will be. “Did you betray us to that fake leader?”

Bristlefrost let out a hiss of indignation. “No, I did not!” she retorted. “Honestly, Rootspring, I promised Squirrelflight I would protect Bramblestar’s body. That why I didn’t help attack him. I’m still on your side. I’m just trying to help from inside ThunderClan. I never wanted him to name me deputy, but I figure at least it’ll be easier to defeat the mange-pelt if there’s a cat who’s close but working against him.”

Rootspring found that he believed every word, even though he guessed that many cats wouldn’t. They might think that if she would betray Bramblestar, she would betray the rebels, too. He wasn’t sure what to say; at last he broke a long and awkward silence by shifting his paws to pull himself a little closer to her. “So you’re not a traitor to the Clans?”

“Of course I’m not!” Bristlefrost snapped. “And it really hurts that you of all cats could think that of me. It wasn’t too hard to fool the fake Bramblestar, but I would have thought you knew me better than that. I would never have thought so badly of you. . . .”

Rootspring felt as though his belly were falling all the way to the ground, but at the same time his spirits were soaring. She’s on our side after all!

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” he meowed. “But I didn’t know what to think. If I didn’t like you so much, I wouldn’t have felt so angry when it looked like you had turned on me and the others.”

Bristlefrost’s eyes widened. “You like me? Even after . . .” Her voice died away.

Rootspring felt as if his pelt were on fire from embarrassment, but he managed to meet Bristlefrost’s suddenly softened gaze. “I can’t help it,” he muttered.

“You know why that could never happen, right?” Bristlefrost’s gentle voice sounded impossibly loud in Rootspring’s ears. “This whole terrible situation the Clans are in is because of codebreaking—and that includes cats from different Clans getting together. That’s always been against the warrior code.”

“Yes, I know,” Rootspring began. “That’s why I would never have said anything. . . .” His words dried up like a puddle under the sun of greenleaf as he realized the meaning of what Bristlefrost had just said. “Does that mean you . . . you like me, too?” he blurted; forcing each word out was a massive effort, but he had to ask the question.

Bristlefrost didn’t reply for a moment, instead bending her head to give her chest fur a few embarrassed licks. “Yes . . . yes, I do have feelings for you,” she admitted at last. “But what can we do about it? Nothing.” She closed her eyes briefly as if in pain. “There’s no way it can go anywhere.”

Rootspring heaved a sigh from deep within his chest. I know she’s right. But it hurt so much to hear her say it.

Even as the thought settled in his mind, the twisty feeling in his belly told him that he didn’t like having to accept it. Shaking his head clear of his tortured thoughts, he added, “We have something bigger to worry about. Tigerstar is going to lead an attack on ThunderClan tomorrow.”

Bristlefrost stared at him with a sharp intake of breath. “Tomorrow? I didn’t expect it to be so soon.”

“Tigerstar would have liked it sooner,” Rootspring told her. “And you might have to be the cat who saves the fake Bramblestar’s body. We can’t let it be destroyed—if we do, the real Bramblestar might never be able to return.”

“I’ll have no problem keeping an eye on the impostor,” Bristlefrost mewed ruefully. “He seems to like having me around right now, for some reason.” Her voice grew wistful. “I’ll be so glad when all this strife is over,” she sighed. “When the Clans can go back to normal, bickering about territory, not disputing the meaning of the entire warrior code.”

Rootspring nodded. “Yes, things will be different—they’ll be better, once we’ve sorted all this out.”

Bristlefrost paused briefly, tilting her head to look at him. “Better how?” she asked. “Do you mean, maybe the rules will be looser, things will be . . . possible then, that aren’t possible now?”

Rootspring hadn’t meant that, but he was not about to tell Bristlefrost so. He realized she was talking about their future, and he wanted to know what she would say next. “What if they were?” he asked hopefully.

“Maybe if we both survive this battle, we can be together on the other side,” she suggested.

“Yes!” Rootspring responded eagerly. “Maybe we can.”

But he saw that Bristlefrost’s eyes were full of sadness, as though she knew, deep down beneath her hopeful surface, that nothing would be that easy. Rootspring knew it, too. He leaned closer to Bristlefrost until his head brushed her shoulder, and for a moment they sat side by side, not needing to speak. Basking in the warmth of her pelt so close to his, Rootspring realized that they might not have a future. But right now they were together, and for the moment, that was enough.

Rootspring had just returned to the SkyClan camp and chosen a mouse from the fresh-kill pile when he spotted Blossomheart and Nettlesplash emerging from the fern tunnel, with the false Bramblestar trailing just behind them. He watched curiously as they headed toward Leafstar’s den.

“Leafstar!” Blossomheart called. “We have a visitor.”

The SkyClan leader poked her head out of her den, her ears flicking up as she spotted the impostor. Padding into the open, she asked, “Where did you find him? Not on our territory, I hope?”

“He was walking along the border,” Nettlesplash replied. “He asked to speak to you.”

Rapidly gulping down his mouse, Rootspring eased himself a little closer to hear what was going on. More of the SkyClan warriors were gathering, too, alert but not threatening, as the two leaders confronted each other.

“What do you want?” Leafstar asked.

“I’ve heard rumors that Tigerstar might be planning an attack on ThunderClan,” Bramblestar replied. “Do you know anything about this?”

For a moment Rootspring’s chest throbbed with panic, as he wondered whether Bristlefrost could have betrayed the rebels by passing on what he had told her. No, that’s impossible, he reassured himself. I trust her—and besides, she hasn’t had time to find Bramblestar and tell him.

“I’ve heard nothing,” Leafstar responded curtly.

Bramblestar stared at her for a long moment, as if he was looking for a sign that she might be lying. Then he nodded. “There’s nothing to worry about for any of us, because there’s no way ShadowClan can take on the combined might of ThunderClan, RiverClan, WindClan, and SkyClan—is there? And if ShadowClan is planning an attack soon . . . there’s still time to surprise them.”

Murmurs of astonishment and doubt came from the assembled warriors. At the sound, Bramblestar’s eyes widened and he turned to rake them with a shocked stare. Rootspring wondered if any other cat could see that the impostor was faking his emotion.

“Leafstar,” the ThunderClan leader asked, “I can count on you pledging your warriors to support me in a battle with ShadowClan? SkyClan isn’t sympathetic toward the codebreakers, is it?”

His head swiveled around again to gaze at the warriors, and at that moment he spotted Kitescratch. His jaws gaped open this time, Rootspring thought, in genuine amazement. He pointed at Kitescratch with his tail.

“This cat was involved in the attack on me,” he meowed accusingly. “Why hasn’t he been exiled?”

Several of Kitescratch’s Clanmates raised their voice in protest, but Bramblestar overrode them. “Look at him!” he yowled. “He’s missing the fur from one shoulder, one ear is torn, and he has a bad wound down one side. Where do you think he got those?”

The reddish-brown tom couldn’t meet his gaze. “I—I got them fighting an owl,” he mumbled.

Bramblestar kept on glaring at him, and Leafstar gave him a stern look as she asked, “Is that true, Kitescratch?”

For a few heartbeats Kitescratch gazed helplessly at Leafstar, then shook his head. “I did go with the others to attack Bramblestar. But I—”

“Enough!” Bramblestar growled. His shoulder fur bristled and he slid out his claws, approaching Kitescratch with menace in his eyes.

But Leafstar stepped forward, blocking Bramblestar with her tail. “Kitescratch,” she mewed, “you know what you have to do.”

To begin with, Kitescratch looked confused, glancing from his leader to the fake Bramblestar and back again. Rootspring could see the moment when understanding hit him: His head and tail drooped as he turned slowly away and trailed miserably out of the camp.

Tinycloud ran a little way after him, then halted and turned back. “That’s not fair!” she exclaimed.

More yowls of shock and dismay supported the white she-cat’s outburst. Rootspring stared at Leafstar, unable to believe that she would give in so easily.

“Are you going to let another Clan’s leader give orders in our camp?” Sparrowpelt demanded.

“Yeah, who does he think he is?” Macgyver asked.

Leafstar ignored the protests from her Clan, except to wave her tail for silence, and gradually the clamor died down.

“So, I can count on you, Leafstar?” the impostor repeated. “Together we can hit ShadowClan hard, before they have time to defend themselves.”

Leafstar fixed a level gaze on him, and her voice was calm as she replied. “You should know where I stand, Bramblestar. The honor of the Clans is very important to me.”

Bramblestar responded with a curt nod of satisfaction. “Then we’ll attack at dawn.” Waiting only for Leafstar to dip her head in assent, he turned and stalked out of the camp.

Rootspring could feel tension tingling in the air after the ThunderClan leader had left. No cat wanted to look at Leafstar, and yet none of them moved away to get on with their duties.

“Bramblestar is out of control,” the deputy, Hawkwing, meowed, flexing his claws. “Throwing his weight around like he’s the leader of all the Clans.”

“Quite true,” Leafstar agreed. “Hawkwing, go after Kitescratch and tell him to come back. Just make sure that Bramblestar doesn’t see you, if he’s still hanging around.”

“Yes!” Rootspring hissed, hearing a murmur of approval from the rest of his Clanmates.

Relief flared in Hawkwing’s eyes at his leader’s order. “Right away, Leafstar!” he responded, before bounding across the camp and plunging into the fern tunnel.

Leafstar looked after him, and when she spoke, her voice was a low, insistent growl. “No other leader tells me what to do with my own warriors.” With a sweep of her tail she gathered her Clan closer to her. “SkyClan will be fighting in tomorrow’s battle,” she told them. “But we will fight on the side of ShadowClan and the rebels. We must warn them now.”

Yowls of acclamation erupted from the SkyClan warriors, so different from their protests of a few moments before. “Leafstar! Leafstar!”

“I’ve tried to stay out of this conflict,” Leafstar continued, “but I won’t hesitate anymore. We may have had our troubles with Tigerstar in the past, but he was right about this false ThunderClan leader and the Clans’ current problems. Now I have to pick a side,” she concluded, “and it’s time to stop Bramblestar!”

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