by Erin Hunter
Warmth filled Brambleclaw from nose to tail-tip, making his legs tremble and a fire blaze in his belly that roared with the sound of tigers. Yes, he had known what it was to love this fiercely. He pictured Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather, and knew that he would still give his life in a moment to protect them. Now that is how it must be for all of my Clanmates.
Bluestar took Goldenflower’s place; Brambleclaw felt a pang of sorrow as he watched his mother walk back to the starry rows on the far side of the hollow. Bluestar followed his gaze. “She will be watching over you, always,” she murmured. She took a deep breath. “Brambleclaw, you have walked a long and difficult path to reach this point. But you have proven your loyalty to ThunderClan more times than I can count. I am proud to see my Clan pass into your care.” She reached up and touched his nose. “I give you a life for clear judgment of character, for the ability to see the value of some cats, and the threat posed by others.” Her eyes clouded. “It is a gift I did not always possess myself,” she admitted.
“But you found Firestar!” Brambleclaw reminded her.
The she-cat’s gaze softened. “So I did.” She pressed her muzzle against his. “Tread carefully in whom you trust,” she whispered.
This life washed through Brambleclaw’s mind like an ice-cold river, making his ears ring and dazzling his eyes with light. He felt a stab of loneliness, as if the life was reminding him that some decisions would be his alone, and the fate of every cat in his Clan would depend upon him making the right choice.
The next cat to walk forward was a dusky brown she-cat with eyes the color of sunlit ice. Her pelt was glossy and the muscles rippled on her shoulders as she padded over the stone. For a moment Brambleclaw didn’t recognize her, then his heart leaped and he gasped, “Mousefur?!”
The she-cat’s eyes gleamed. “Indeed. Did you think I would always be old and patch-furred, even here? You never knew me when I was young and strong, Brambleclaw. But this is how I will be for the rest of memory.” She stretched up to touch his cheek. “I give you a life for listening to your elders, for taking advice even when it is not expected. The oldest cats have seen the most, and there is precious little that is new, even beside the lake. Trust their wisdom, learn from their mistakes, and remember that without them, you would have no Clan to lead.”
Brambleclaw’s mind filled with countless murmurs and he was buffeted by unseen cats brushing past him on both sides. The hollow was overflowing with cats! He strained to hear what they were saying, but the whispers were too quiet and too numerous to pick anything out. Brambleclaw felt his legs start to tremble from all the memories that swirled around him, and he was grateful when a cat put its shoulder against his side to steady him.
“It’s all right,” said a deep voice. “Receiving nine lives is always hard, but you are fresh from a battle as well. Stay strong, it will soon be over.”
Brambleclaw opened his eyes and looked up at the gold-striped tabby in front of him. The tom’s shoulders were even broader than Brambleclaw’s, and the way he held his head made Brambleclaw think of the lions that were described in nursery tales.
“I am Lionheart,” rumbled the huge tom. “I died in a battle with ShadowClan before you were born, but I have watched you grow, and I know you will make a great leader for my precious ThunderClan. I give you a life to have the greatest pride in your Clan, to honor the legacy that has been left by the leaders who have walked this path before”—he paused and nodded to Bluestar and Firestar—“and to have the courage to lay down your own paw prints over theirs. This is your chance to shape ThunderClan’s destiny. Use it wisely and make us proud.”
Lionheart had to stoop to rest his muzzle on top of Brambleclaw’s head. Brambleclaw was filled with a warm energy that made his fur stand on end. He pictured all the ThunderClan cats around him, felt their support like a blast of wind that could power him upward, higher than the treetops, to do whatever he wanted to do. “Thank you, Lionheart,” he whispered breathlessly.
The noble cat stepped back and dipped his head. “It is always an honor to bestow a life,” he meowed.
A lightly framed cat whose pale gray fur was dotted with darker flecks trotted forward. Her green eyes were wide and earnest. Brambleclaw stared at her with a swell of grief. “Ferncloud!”
The she-cat nodded. “Oh, Brambleclaw, this is a bittersweet meeting for both of us. I am so sorry to have left you all behind. Please look after Dustpelt for me, and all my precious kits.”
“I will,” Brambleclaw promised. “They miss you so much.”
Ferncloud’s eyes darkened. “And I miss them. But tell them I am watching over them and will be waiting for them always.” She gave herself a shake. “I have a life to give you, Brambleclaw!” She sounded almost kitlike with excitement. She reached up and nudged his chin with her nose. “My life is for understanding that it is not only warriors who play a part in protecting the Clan. She-cats who choose to live in the nursery do just as much as those who patrol borders and stock the fresh-kill pile. We raise every new apprentice, feed every small mouth, teach every kit the importance of the warrior code. Without us, the Clan would be as rootless as an upturned tree. Honor the mother-cats, Brambleclaw, for we give you all life.”
Brambleclaw was plunged back into the nursery, his nose filled with the scent of milk and warm fur, soft moss enclosing him while his mother licked his ears. The small, shadowed space seemed full of more cats than he could recognize, all bending over him, watching him with warmth in their eyes and purrs rumbling from their bellies. Brambleclaw’s chest swelled with gratitude for everything these she-cats had done for his Clan, bringing new lives into the world and nurturing them until they were strong enough to hunt and fight alone. “Thank you, all of you,” he murmured, and the cats around him nodded and carried on soothing him until he felt an urge to drift off to sleep.
“Wake up, Brambleclaw!” said an amused voice.
Brambleclaw blinked open his eyes and saw a dark gray she-cat standing in front of him. Her blue eyes reflected the stars as she watched him. “Cinderpelt!” Brambleclaw exclaimed.
The she-cat dipped her head. “It took me a while to reach StarClan, but I am here now,” she meowed. Brambleclaw wanted to ask her what she meant, but she went on before he could speak. “I give you a life for offering second chances,” she announced, pressing her muzzle to his. “If a plan fails, if a Clanmate disappoints you, if destiny seems the wrong way around, never despair. Have the faith to try again, learn from what happened before, and success may come. The best things come to those who wait, Brambleclaw. Trust me.” Again amusement bubbled up in her voice, and Brambleclaw relaxed into the flood of energy that raced through him. Suddenly he felt strong enough to fight every battle twice, double the size of the fresh-kill pile, and train apprentices for twice as long as usual, until they had every skill, every battle tactic perfected.
Cinderpelt brushed her tail lightly along his flank, glanced at Firestar, then padded back to the ranks. Another gray she-cat walked forward, paler than Cinderpelt, with eyes the color of a dawn sky in newleaf. Brambleclaw’s breath caught in his throat. This was not a cat he had expected to see.
The she-cat nodded as if she knew what he was thinking. “I walk with the Tribe of Endless Hunting now,” she meowed, her voice echoing as if she was still among the vast mountains and tumbling waterfalls where the Tribe cats lived. “But tonight I have come here with my StarClan friends to give you one of your lives.”
Brambleclaw bowed his head. “Oh, Feathertail, not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. I am so sorry we left you behind.”
Feathertail flicked her ears. “But I was part of the Tribe’s prophecy, remember? The silver cat who would destroy Sharptooth? The mountains are where I belong, but I have never forgotten the Clans. I watch over you still, and I am so, so proud of you, Brambleclaw.” She reached up and pressed her soft, stone-scented cheek against his. “I give you a life for exploring beyond the borders of your Clan, for seeing the pos
sibilities that lie in unexpected places, and the untrodden paths that wait to be discovered. You are not trapped by your invisible boundaries. If you cannot find the answers within them, then look farther off. There is always hope somewhere.”
The sharp, slicing wind that Brambleclaw remembered from his stay in the mountains whipped around him, buffeting his fur and rocking him on his paws. He heard the keening cry of an eagle far above him, and his pelt felt damp from the mist thrown up by the waterfall. A pang of longing shot through him, for all the cats he had known and lost, for the long path he had followed in search of a new home for the Clans, for the sights he had seen far beyond the lake and the hills.
“I will be with you, always,” Feathertail whispered to him as she faded away to sparkling, empty air.
Brambleclaw looked around. There was just one more life left to receive. Who would give it to him? What more did his leadership need? The starlit cats lined around the hollow were still and watchful. Even the ripples on the surface of the Moonpool had stilled. Everything seemed to be waiting.
Paw steps sounded behind Brambleclaw. He spun around and saw a small, black figure descending the spiral path that led down to the edge of the pool. Brambleclaw tipped his head on one side. Could it be . . . ? Surely not! “Ravenpaw?” he croaked. “Is that you?”
The tom stepped into the light cast by the StarClan cats on the other side of the hollow. The tip of his tail twitched nervously, and his blue eyes blinked several times before he answered. “Yes, it is I,” he meowed. He took a deep breath. “Wow. I never expected to see those faces again.” He stared at the starry cats, mouth open.
“It’s pretty extraordinary, isn’t it?” Brambleclaw agreed. He shifted his paws. “So, are you here because . . . well, because you’re in your own StarClan now?”
There was a flicker of amusement in Ravenpaw’s eyes. “You mean, am I a living cat, or like them?” He nodded at the StarClan ranks. “Oh, I’m one of them,” he mewed. “But also not, because my life in the Clans was so long ago. I was so happy with Barley, and I miss him so much.” His gaze clouded. “But I see him still, in our home of hay, and I know it won’t be long before he is with me once more.”
“I remember Barley,” meowed Brambleclaw, picturing the sturdy, welcoming black-and-white cat who had given him and his Clanmates shelter at the start of the Great Journey. “He must miss you too.”
Ravenpaw blinked. “I should hope so! Now, Brambleclaw, it is a long time since I set eyes on you, but I see why Firestar chose you to be his deputy. I am honored to give you your ninth life, and I am humbled to be part of the new leadership of ThunderClan.” He looked at Firestar. “Your Clan will grieve the loss of my dear friend for countless moons,” he murmured. “But I know his spirit will be with them all forever.”
Lifting his head, he stepped forward and rested his muzzle against Brambleclaw. His voice rang out clear around the rocks of the hollow. “I give you a life for speaking out against injustice, for pursuing the truth above all else. Lies bring shadows in which darker things can hide. Never fear the truth, Brambleclaw, however blinding it may be.”
A jolt of light shot through Brambleclaw, shaking him on his paws. His mind cleared as if all his thoughts had been sucked out by the wind, then filled with sunshine so bright he thought his head might blow apart. There was a sharp, dazzling pain before a sense of peace descended on him, all the way down to the end of his tail. Brambleclaw took a deep, shuddering breath.
“It is over,” Firestar whispered in his ear. “You have done well.” He raised his voice. “Welcome, Bramblestar!”
His new name echoed around the hollow, picked up and cast aloft by every cat that watched him. “Bramblestar! Bramblestar!”
Bramblestar drew himself up and dipped his head to them. “Thank you all,” he meowed. “I will do my best to live each of these lives according to the gifts you have made. Firestar, your Clan will never forget you.” He held the gaze of his green-eyed mentor. “And if I can be half the leader you were, I will be proud.”
Firestar nodded in return. “Go well, Bramblestar,” he ordered. “I will be with you always.”
SHADOWCLAN
Introduction to ShadowClan: Blackstar Speaks
WHEN WE LIVED IN the forest, the other Clans used to say that the hearts of ShadowClan cats had been chilled by the cold winds from the mountains, turning us cruel and cunning. But now that we live around the lake and share the breezes with all the other Clans, what excuse do they make for our skill in battle, our dedication to training as hard as we can, and our absolute loyalty to our Clanmates? Back in the forest, our readiness to invade other territories came from a lack of prey inside our own borders—lizards and frogs can only fill so many bellies in leaf-bare, and it seemed unfair that our neighbors and rivals had rabbits and woodland birds in every season.
And if our leaders took us into battle, what kind of warriors would we have been to refuse? ShadowClan cats are proud of who they are, proud to fight more bravely and tirelessly than any other Clan. Our first warriors were those who were most willing to take action to answer a complaint, to stand by the proof of claws and teeth rather than fine words. We settled on the outskirts of the forest because that gave us the independence we desired, the freedom to choose our own borders and pursue prey as far as we could run. Carrionplace was a bonus, supplying us with rats, though we had to learn fast how to tell if they had been tainted by Twoleg waste and would give us bellyaches.
Our Clan has stayed pure through all the seasons past; strangers are not welcome, and kittypets have no place inside our borders. Tigerstar was an exception, since he was born and raised in ThunderClan, but if our ancestors were willing to give him nine lives, that showed they wanted him to lead us. We have allowed some rogues to join us too, but only after proving their loyalty and courage. Inviting Scourge and his cats of BloodClan into the forest may have been a bad idea, but ShadowClan emerged victorious from that battle. And now, beside the lake, we are still the most feared Clan, the cats who have the fiercest skills in stalking and fighting. These virtues have nothing to do with the wind; they are bred within us, and will endure for as long as the warrior code survives.
RAGGEDSTAR
RAGGEDSTAR WAS BORN IN ShadowClan to the warrior Featherstorm, but the identity of his father was always a mystery. Rumors that his father had been a kittypet followed Raggedkit from the moment he opened his eyes, and the taunts that filled his ears made him grow up all the more determined to prove his courage and skill in battle. He was sharp-tongued to the point of being cruel, and measured himself against punishing standards. It was no surprise that Cedarstar chose him to be deputy when he was still a young warrior, after his daring plan to trap rats at the Carrionplace.
Raggedstar, whose warrior name was Raggedpelt, was respected by his Clanmates, but not particularly well liked because of his prickly, defensive nature. Only Yellowpaw, who would one day be Yellowfang, saw through to the vulnerability that made him lash out. It was Yellowpaw who insisted they try to find Raggedpelt’s real father in Twolegplace, but when they went in search of him they met with nothing but hostility and denial. In fact, Raggedpelt’s father was a Twolegplace rogue named Hal who had no interest in claiming his Clanborn son. Moons later, an attack by Twolegplace rogues brought Raggedpelt face-to-face with Hal once more—and this time Raggedpelt killed him.
Yellowfang’s decision to become a medicine cat made Raggedpelt furious. He couldn’t comprehend why she would give up the future she had with him to follow such an isolated path. But it was too late to untangle their paths; Yellowfang soon revealed that she was expecting his kits. Raggedpelt was overjoyed at the prospect of becoming a father, then outraged when Yellowfang said their kits could never know who their real mother was. Only one kit survived, an angry tom with a crooked tail who grew up to become Brokenstar.
Raggedstar raised his son to be fierce enough to fight back against the teasing that came from having no mother; Raggedstar knew how it felt to be r
ejected by a parent. He was desperately proud of Brokentail and made him deputy as soon as he could, after Cloudpelt was killed in a skirmish with WindClan. But even Raggedstar’s ambition and readiness to fight paled beside Brokentail’s desire for power. Too late, Raggedstar realized that his son was training cats to fight to kill. He confessed to Yellowfang that he had made a terrible mistake in appointing Brokentail to be deputy so soon and tried to tell Brokentail to train less fiercely. Days later, Brokentail ambushed and killed his father in a remote part of the territory, blaming WindClan trespassers for his death.
SAGEWHISKER
SAGEWHISKER WAS THE MEDICINE cat before Yellowfang. She served Cedarstar and then Raggedstar, but died before she had to witness the cruelty of Brokenstar’s leadership. Sagewhisker had a prodigious memory for herbs and a gift for listening to StarClan, but her greatest strength lay in observing the cats around her. She was the first to realize that the young she-cat Yellowpaw, who would one day be Yellowfang, had a unique sensitivity to other cats’ ailments and felt their pain in sympathy. Sagewhisker encouraged Yellowpaw’s curiosity about berries and herbs, secretly hoping that Yellowpaw would ask to be apprenticed as a medicine cat.
But Yellowpaw seemed intent on following the path of a warrior despite her talents and earned the warrior name Yellowfang. Close questioning after a clash with the Twolegplace cats confirmed Sagewhisker’s suspicions that, even though Yellowfang had escaped with hardly a scratch, she knew exactly where her Clanmates had been hurt. Yellowfang still had her heart set on serving her Clan as a warrior, not a medicine cat, but Sagewhisker was patient. She knew that this was a decision Yellowfang had to reach on her own, and although she let Yellowfang help with herbs and treatments, she made no attempt to change her mind.