Chapter 22

Shadowsight crouched in the medicine cats’ den, chewing up the last of his store of comfrey to make a poultice for Bramblestar’s wounds. Tigerstar had told him that he must keep the ThunderClan leader alive at any cost, and while he had stopped the bleeding, he sometimes felt that Bramblestar was about to slip away for good. Already he had almost exhausted the herb store in his efforts to keep the impostor alive.

It seems like all I can do is pray to StarClan. Or will that do any good? I saw how they were imprisoned. And Harestar said that StarClan was fading, barely there anymore.

Bramblestar had begun to stir as his consciousness returned, when Squirrelflight slipped into the den and stood looking down at him, deep concern in her eyes.

“How is he?” she asked.

“He’ll be fine,” Shadowsight assured her, though he wished he felt more confident when he said it.

“I must have bees in my brain,” Squirrelflight murmured. “I want so desperately to lie down beside him, to try to keep him strong, except . . . that’s not my mate, is it? Not really. I’m so confused. . . .”

Shadowsight didn’t know how to respond. I’m a medicine cat. I’ll never know anything about the love between mates. So what can I say to her now?

“I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Bramblestar alive,” he meowed at last.

“Thank you,” Squirrelflight replied.

She was turning to leave the den when Bramblestar stirred again and his eyes flickered open. “Squirrelflight!” he called out in a pained, wheezing gasp. Then he mumbled something else that Shadowsight couldn’t make out.

“What did you say?” Squirrelflight asked curiously, turning back to him.

Bramblestar’s chest heaved as he fought to breathe, and he finally managed to force out a few more words. Now Shadowsight could understand him.

“I came back . . . for you.”

The effort had been too much. Bramblestar’s body sagged and his eyes closed as he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

“Is he dead?” Squirrelflight asked, her eyes wide with alarm.

Shadowsight bent over the ThunderClan leader, placing a paw on his chest and sniffing around his muzzle. “No, he’s alive,” he mewed at last. Straightening up, he added, “Squirrelflight, what did that mean? ‘I came back for you’?”

For a moment Squirrelflight seemed completely confused, gazing up at the roof of the den and back down at Bramblestar’s motionless form. “I’m starting to think there’s something familiar about this fake Bramblestar,” she murmured. “But I can’t quite put my paw on what it is, or who it might actually be. I do know one thing, though,” she added, meeting Shadowsight’s concerned gaze. “I have a terrible feeling about all of this.”

She left the den, and with a last look at the impostor, Shadowsight followed her out to see the devastation still strewn about the camp. Countless moons seemed to have passed since the Clan had roused before dawn, and yet sunhigh was still a little way off.

The camp was still full of warriors from the other Clans, moving their fallen Clanmates to their burial places. Pain clawed at Shadowsight’s heart as he spotted Strikestone and Frondwhisker being carried into the center of the camp so their Clanmates could sit vigil for them that night. Warriors from WindClan and RiverClan were lifting Smokehaze and Softpelt, ready to bear them home. Meanwhile Puddleshine was passing from one cat to another, checking on the wounds they had received in the battle. All the cats were grieving and exhausted, and after a moment Shadowsight couldn’t bear to go on looking.

So many warriors dead or injured because of that evil thing inside Bramblestar.

Instead he glanced across the camp to where his father was deep in conversation with the other leaders and their deputies. Shadowsight noticed Bristlefrost hovering awkwardly on the edge of the group, clearly wishing she were anywhere else.

Tigerstar looked up and, spotting Shadowsight, beckoned him with a whisk of his tail. Shadowsight bounded over to join him, and Squirrelflight followed.

“How is that piece of fox dung?” Tigerstar demanded as Shadowsight halted in front of him.

No need to ask who he means! “I’ve treated his wounds,” Shadowsight replied, “but he’s not doing as well as I’d like. There’s still a chance he might not make it.”

Tigerstar nodded. “This means we have a big decision to make about the future of ThunderClan,” he told the others. “It still has a leader, but he’s in no fit state to lead—and he can’t be trusted. It also has a deputy who is clearly too young to take over the leadership.”

“Oh, thank StarClan!” Bristlefrost breathed out; she looked almost giddy with relief. Squirrelflight blinked at her affectionately, and even Tigerstar looked amused. I’m glad they’ve realized she was never on the impostor’s side, Shadowsight thought.

“Squirrelflight, you’re the obvious choice to lead ThunderClan now,” Tigerstar continued. “What do you think?”

Squirrelflight shook her head uncertainly. “I don’t know. . . . Strictly speaking, I’m not even a member of ThunderClan anymore, since I was sent into exile. Besides, Berrynose—”

“Berrynose is dead,” Tigerstar interrupted. “And the impostor had no authority to exile you or any other cat, or to replace you as deputy.”

“Please, Squirrelflight,” Mistystar pleaded, stretching out a paw toward her. “You are ThunderClan’s true deputy, and every cat in the forest trusts you.”

Squirrelflight ducked her head with embarrassment at the RiverClan leader’s praise, seeming more embarrassed still as the other leaders and deputies murmured their agreement. “Very well,” she mewed. “I’ll do it for the good of the Clan—but only temporarily, until we get the real Bramblestar back. Bristlefrost,” she added, turning to the pale gray she-cat, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you ought to be deputy. I’m going to choose Lionblaze.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry, Squirrelflight!” Bristlefrost burst out. “I never deserved to be deputy, and I’m sure StarClan would never have approved, no matter what the false Bramblestar said. I’m just not ready. I’m so glad to step back for a cat who’s truly worthy.”

Squirrelflight took a pace toward her and touched noses with her. “I’m sure you have a bright future in our Clan,” she mewed.

A lighter mood settled over the assembled cats as the paws of ThunderClan returned to the right path.

“I think we should hold a Gathering tomorrow night,” Tigerstar suggested. “We all need to figure out how we should best move forward, now that we have the impostor under control.”

Relief flooded through Shadowsight. It seemed that everything was working out at last. But then his gaze rested on the medicine cats’ den, and he couldn’t help wondering.

Is it really over?

He felt his paws carrying him back to the den, as if something was drawing him there. Stepping in, he padded up to the sleeping Bramblestar and looked down at him. He almost felt the evil wafting off the impostor, filling the den like a damp wind.

While Shadowsight was standing over him, Bramblestar’s eyes suddenly snapped open, narrowing as his gaze fell on the medicine cat.

He recognizes me. . . .

The impostor opened his jaws and spoke, but not in the voice of Bramblestar, the one Shadowsight had always heard at Gatherings. Instead it was the voice he remembered from his visions.

“I won’t be thwarted,” he told Shadowsight. “You saved my life, and because of that, you have ensured my success. Because once I’m back to full health, I’ll be able to bend any cat to my will. . . . Just ask that skinny black cat with the yellow eyes.”

For a moment Shadowsight wasn’t sure what the impostor meant. Surely it can’t be . . . Then, with a gasp of amazement, he realized that Bramblestar must be talking about Spiresight, though he had no idea how the two spirits could have met.

Before Shadowsight could question Bramblestar, the impostor went limp again and his eyes closed.

Shadowsight still had no idea who the spirit inside Bramblestar might be, but he knew one thing. The Clans’ troubles aren’t over yet.

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