by Erin Hunter
“The WindClan ones?” As Cherryfall blinked at Squirrelflight, Bramblestar padded closer to the fresh-kill pile.
“No. Start with SkyClan,” Squirrelflight told her. “They refreshed their markers yesterday, and I want to make sure that our scent line is as clear as—”
“Is the fresh-kill pile always so poorly stocked?” Bramblestar interrupted her. He poked at the damp shrew that was all that was left of yesterday’s prey.
Squirrelflight looked at him, her gaze gentle. “It’s early,” she mewed apologetically. “I haven’t had time to organize the hunting patrols. It’ll be well-stocked later.” She turned back to Cherryfall. “Try and catch some prey while you’re out. I’m afraid I’m a little behind—”
“Why are we repairing the elders’ den?” Bramblestar had crossed the clearing and was sniffing at the withered stems Bristlefrost and Thriftear had tugged from the walls.
Bristlefrost’s pelt prickled. Had it been a dumb idea to fix the elders’ den? “We want to make sure they’re warm,” she told him quickly. “Until fresh honeysuckle grows in.”
Bramblestar hardly looked at her, his gaze flashing toward the warriors’ den. The brambles were torn on one side, where the leaf-bare snows had dragged them down. “It’s the warriors who keep the Clan healthy and strong,” he meowed. “We should take care of them first. Elders are tough enough to survive a draft or two.”
Graystripe shifted beside Bristlefrost, a frown clouding his gaze. “Cloudtail’s bones feel the cold,” he grunted.
Bristlefrost shifted uneasily. Graystripe was right to remind the ThunderClan leader of that, but Bramblestar wouldn’t suggest repairing the warriors’ den instead without a good reason.
Bramblestar answered the old gray tom without looking at him. “Extra bedding will keep Cloudtail warm.”
Bristlefrost felt relieved. See? Bramblestar was thinking of every cat.
Squirrelflight swished her tail. “We can take care of the dens once we’ve restocked the fresh-kill pile,” she mewed briskly. “Let me finish organizing the hunting patrols and then I’ll see about gathering extra bedding.”
“Squirrelflight.” Alderheart’s mew made the ThunderClan deputy turn. The dark ginger medicine cat was hurrying from his den. “Do you need me this morning? I want to go out and check to see if there are signs of new herbs growing yet.”
“I told you . . .” Jayfeather followed Alderheart out. “It’ll be a moon before we see fresh herbs. We might as well make the most of the ones we’ve got. If we mix the dried leaves with some sap, it will preserve them for a while longer.”
“I can collect some sap while I’m out,” Alderheart suggested.
Squirrelflight didn’t seem to be listening. Her gaze had drifted past them, growing sad as she stared at the bramble-covered entrance of the medicine cats’ den. Bristlefrost’s heart pricked with sympathy. That was where Leafpool had died. The whole Clan was still grieving her loss. Bristlefrost moved closer to Thriftear. She couldn’t imagine losing a littermate.
Bramblestar padded to Squirrelflight’s side and glared at the medicine cats. “I don’t know why you’re bothering the deputy with stuff that doesn’t concern her,” he told them sharply. “Decide for yourself whether you want sap or herbs.”
As Jayfeather jerked his nose toward the ThunderClan leader, his face creasing in a frown, Bristlefrost blinked. “Why is he so angry with Jayfeather and Alderheart?” she whispered to Thriftear.
“Perhaps he blames them for letting him die,” Thriftear whispered back.
Bristlefrost shivered. “I hope he never looks at me like that.”
“Why would he?” Thriftear glanced at her.
Bristlefrost shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m going to try to be the best warrior in the Clan from now on.” She was relieved to see Bramblestar’s gaze soften as he turned back to Squirrelflight.
Stemleaf caught her eye. The white-and-orange tom looked puzzled. “Is it me, or is Bramblestar being weird?” he murmured under his breath.
“He’s been weird since he lost a life,” Spotfur agreed quietly.
“Losing a life must be hard,” Bristlefrost told them. “We don’t know what it’s like.”
“He’ll feel better soon,” Thriftear mewed.
“I hope so,” Graystripe huffed. “Firestar never acted like this after he’d lost a life.” With an irritable flick of his tail, the gray tom ducked into his den.
Flipclaw was crossing the clearing, Dewnose and Snaptooth at his heels. They stopped in front of Squirrelflight and Bramblestar. “Should we hunt in the beech grove?” Flipclaw offered. “I think I smelled a fresh mouse nest there yesterday.”
Bramblestar frowned at the young tom. “Then why didn’t you dig it up yesterday?”
Flipclaw blinked at him. “I’d already caught a squirrel,” he mewed. “I thought it could wait.”
Squirrelflight ran her tail along Bramblestar’s spine. “It’s best not to hunt too hard this early into newleaf,” she mewed lightly. “Remember? We want some prey alive to make more prey so there’s plenty by greenleaf.”
Bramblestar’s fur ruffled. “Of course I remember,” he snapped. He hesitated as though realizing he’d been too sharp and touched his nose to Squirrelflight’s ear. “But you’re right to remind our younger warriors.” He nodded to Dewnose. “You’re training him well, Dewtail.”
“Dewnose.” Dewnose blinked at him. “I’m called Dewnose.”
“Of course you are.” Bramblestar grunted crossly. “I knew that.”
Squirrelflight leaned against the ThunderClan leader, her eyes welling with pity. “You don’t have to remember everything. Are you tired again? Perhaps you should rest.”
As she steered him away, talking softly in his ear, Stemleaf leaned closer to Spotfur. “He used to remember everything,” he grumbled.
Bristlefrost glared at the white-and-orange tom. Why was he being so hard on Bramblestar? She eyed her leader sympathetically, relieved he was too far away to hear Stemleaf’s criticism. “Have you forgotten how sick he was?”
“He’s healthy now,” Stemleaf retorted.
“But he died!” Bristlefrost’s pelt flushed with indignation. “It’s bound to change things.”
“If the Clan leaders changed personality every time they lost a life, the Clans would be a mess,” Stemleaf pressed.
Spotfur nodded. “Even if Bramblestar’s feeling weird, he doesn’t have to stop Squirrelflight from organizing patrols. The fresh-kill pile is usually full by this time of day.”
“Now you’re blaming both of them!” Bristlefrost fluffed out her pelt.
“You must admit, things have been strange since Bramblestar started his new life,” Thriftear breathed.
“So what? They’re great warriors!” Bristlefrost jerked away from her sister. “We’re lucky to have a leader like Bramblestar, and Squirrelflight is an awesome deputy. Why are you criticizing them? They’re your Clanmates! You should be helping them.”
Anger hardened her belly. She was grateful Bramblestar had come back to them. How would ThunderClan have survived without him? Squirrelflight and Bramblestar needed the support of their Clan. Puffing out her chest, she left her denmates and crossed the clearing. She was going to help Bramblestar. It was what a honorable warrior would do.
Bramblestar and Squirrelflight stood beneath the Highledge. Bramblestar had clearly decided that he didn’t need any more rest and stood watching as Squirrelflight gave orders to Flipclaw.
“Take Eaglewing with you,” she told the young warrior. “Start at the beech grove, and then try the area beside the abandoned Twoleg den.”
“What about the ancient oak?” Bramblestar chipped in. “There’s always good hunting there.”
“That’s a good idea.” Squirrelflight blinked at her mate gratefully. “But the hunting hasn’t been so good there for the past few seasons. It might be best to wait till greenleaf to give prey a chance to return.”
As Bristlefrost reached them
, her ears grew hot. She’d only been a warrior for a moon. Was she allowed to approach her leader and offer help? She hesitated and looked nervously at Squirrelflight. “Excuse me.”
The ThunderClan deputy dragged her gaze distractedly from Flipclaw. “Can it wait?” she asked. “I’ve got more patrols to organize.”
“I—I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help,” Bristlefrost’s mouth felt dry as she met Squirrelflight’s gaze.
“I suppose you can join your brother’s patrol,” Squirrelflight mewed thoughtfully. Her gaze was flitting around the camp, as though wondering who else to send hunting.
“Sure.” Bristlefrost lifted her tail eagerly.
Bramblestar’s eyes flashed with sudden interest. “Why send her out on patrol?” he mewed suddenly. “Leave that to the other warriors.”
Bristlefrost chest tightened. Didn’t he think she was good enough to hunt with her Clanmates?
Squirrelflight looked at him quizzically. “But she wanted to help,” she mewed.
“She can help in a much more important way than that.” Bramblestar’s gaze rounded with warmth as he stared at Bristlefrost. Her pelt prickled self-consciously. What was he going to ask her to do? “She’s clearly an intelligent and loyal warrior,” he went on. “Who else has offered to help?” He flicked his tail dismissively. “Bristlefrost is the kind of warrior we want. We should give her more responsibility.” He glanced critically around the Clan. “Rewarding her initiative might encourage her Clanmates to offer help when it’s needed.”
Squirrelflight’s brow furrowed as she looked at Bramblestar. “She hasn’t been a warrior for long,” she cautioned.
“Then she won’t be stuck in old warrior ways,” Bramblestar meowed breezily. “From now on, Bristlefrost will organize the daily patrols.” He looked at Squirrelflight. “After all, why should you waste your time on such mundane things? You’re Clan deputy. You should learn to delegate, and I’m sure Bristlefrost will be great at it.”
Bristlefrost flinched as his eager gaze switched back to her. Did he mean it? It seemed too good to be true.
“I s-suppose.” Squirrelflight didn’t sound as eager as Bramblestar.
At the edge of the clearing, Thornclaw got to his paws. “Do you think it’s wise to give a young cat so much responsibility?”
“Of course,” Bramblestar told him. “How else will our young Clanmates grow into warriors as strong and capable as you? Surely you see it’ll be good for the Clan?” He held Thornclaw’s gaze until the dark tabby dipped his head.
“I guess,” Thornclaw murmured.
Excitement pricked through Bristlefrost’s paws. “Thank you, Bramblestar!” she mewed before any of the other warriors could object. “I just want to help my Clan any way I can.” She purred happily, ignoring the doubt shimmering in Squirrelflight’s gaze.
“See?” Bramblestar blinked at Squirrelflight. “Energetic, enthusiastic young warriors will make ThunderClan stronger.”
Squirrelflight returned his gaze. “Okay,” she mewed softly. She looked at Bristlefrost. “Do you think you can handle it?”
Bristlefrost whisked her tail. “I’ll do my best!”
Chapter 3
“Come on, Shadowpaw! The moon’s rising and your Clanmates are waiting to see you off.” Puddleshine blinked at Shadowpaw from the medicine-den entrance, his pelt fluffed with pride.
Inside, Shadowpaw kept his eyes on the chervil he was shredding. He was supposed to be traveling to the Moonpool to receive his medicine-cat name. He knew he should be excited, but he couldn’t help feeling he hadn’t earned it yet. “I want to finish stripping these stems.”
“They can wait.” Puddleshine’s tail twitched eagerly.
Shadowpaw’s pelt itched with worry. He’d wanted to tell his mentor for days that he was uncertain about receiving his medicine-cat name, but the time had never seemed right. “But I’m not ready.”
“Of course you’re ready,” Puddleshine sounded impatient. “You have your whiskers and tail. What else do you need?”
“I mean I’m not ready to be a medicine cat.” Shadowpaw didn’t dare look at his mentor. Was he letting Puddleshine down? “I haven’t learned enough.”
“You’ve learned plenty,” Puddleshine told him.
“But there’s so much I don’t know yet.”
“Medicine cats never stop learning. That doesn’t mean they’re not ready to help their Clanmates.” Puddleshine padded nearer, until Shadowpaw felt his mentor’s pelt brush his flank. “You’re bound to be nervous, but it’s okay. You can do this.” He caught Shadowpaw’s gaze warmly and held it. “I know I haven’t always been sure about your visions in the past, Shadowpaw, but I’ve always believed that you were special. And now that you’ve saved Bramblestar, every cat knows it.”
Shadowpaw’s belly tightened as he remembered the dreadful vigil he’d sat beside the dying ThunderClan leader. StarClan had told him the only way to save Bramblestar from the fever that held him between life and death was to take him onto the frozen moor and expose him to the cold. The treatment had killed him, but it had made way for his next life. Now Bramblestar was healthy and strong again, and ThunderClan had its leader back. As his thoughts drifted, Shadowpaw realized that Puddleshine was still speaking. He jerked his attention back to his mentor.
“Your Clanmates feel lucky to have you as their medicine cat,” Puddleshine mewed.
“I don’t see why.” Shadowpaw looked at the ground. “I’m just the same as I always was.”
“But you’ve made ShadowClan special with your connection to StarClan. Our ancestors haven’t spoken to any other medicine cat while the Moonpool’s been frozen. After so many troubled moons, it feels as though ShadowClan has StarClan’s blessing again. It’s made all of us feel proud.”
Shadowpaw shifted his paws self-consciously. “ShadowClan should feel proud without me.”
“I know it must feel like a big responsibility, but StarClan clearly thinks you’re special, or they wouldn’t have chosen you. They must think you’re ready to be a full medicine cat.”
Shadowpaw returned his gaze. “But are you sure?”
“I am,” Puddleshine told him gently. “And you’ll be sure too after tonight. The Moonpool will be thawing, and we’ll finally be able to share with StarClan once more.” He leaned closer. “Everything is going to be fine, once you’ve spoken with our ancestors—once we’ve all spoken with them again.” Puddleshine padded to the den entrance, his tail fluffed happily. “Don’t tell any cat I said this, but I was starting to worry that we’d offended them. But if we had, they wouldn’t have spoken to you, would they?” He blinked brightly at Shadowpaw.
“I guess not.” Unease wormed in Shadowpaw’s belly as he followed his mentor out of the den. Would Puddleshine be so proud of him if he knew he was holding something back? Bramblestar’s fever cure wasn’t the only thing StarClan had shared with him. They’d also warned him about the codebreakers. The Clans have forgotten the code, a voice from StarClan had whispered. It has been broken time and time again, and because of the codebreakers, every Clan must pay a price. They must suffer. Images of Twigbranch and Lionblaze had flashed before him. Crowfeather, Squirrelflight, Mothwing, Jayfeather . . . Remembering this, Shadowpaw was frightened, his breath catching in his chest as he pictured again the last cat who’d appeared in his vision—Dovewing. How could his mother be a codebreaker? She was a good cat, wasn’t she?
He had told Tigerstar about the vision, of course, and he remembered how his father’s eyes had darkened when he’d heard Dovewing’s name among the other cats. You must keep it to yourself. His father’s words still rang in his head. Shadowpaw was sure StarClan wanted him to share this terrible vision, and yet he must obey his leader. He swallowed. But I’m a medicine cat—by dawn he’d have his full medicine-cat name. Wasn’t his first duty to StarClan?
Shadowpaw shook out his fur as he followed Puddleshine into the clearing. His Clanmates clustered around the edge, mu
rmuring excitedly as he walked past them. Pouncestep’s and Lightleap’s eyes shone. Strikestone puffed out his chest, while Scorchfur and Grassheart exchanged glances, as though agreeing with each other that they were lucky to have a medicine cat like Shadowpaw.
Shadowpaw’s pelt felt hot. He avoided the gaze of his Clanmates. What would they say if they knew he was keeping a vision from them?
“Shadowpaw.” Dovewing hurried to meet him as he crossed the clearing. “I’m so proud of you.” Her eyes began to shimmer with emotion, and she licked the top of his head fiercely. “You’re going to be a wonderful medicine cat.”
“He already is.” Tawnypelt padded toward him, purring. “He helped Bramblestar move safely to his next life.” She stopped a tail-length away and blinked at him gratefully. “Bramblestar was my littermate. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d never come back.” With StarClan so oddly silent, the medicine cats had feared for a while that Bramblestar wouldn’t be able to return for his next life.
Shadowpaw forced himself to blink happily at Tawnypelt. Dovewing had stepped away and was gazing at him lovingly. How could he expose her as a codebreaker? She’d never hurt any cat.
Tigerstar was waiting at the entrance.
As Shadowpaw saw him, Puddleshine looked back expectantly. “We’d better hurry, Shadowpaw,” he mewed. “The other medicine cats will be waiting. If the Moonpool really is thawing, we’ll be able to commune with StarClan again—we don’t want to miss that.”
Shadowpaw quickened his pace, relieved to be leaving his Clanmates behind. Their admiration was making him uncomfortable. He nodded to Tigerstar, hoping that his father wouldn’t want to make a fuss, but Tigerstar blocked his way. “You’ve earned your name,” he mewed fondly. “I know you’ll make a wise and loyal medicine cat who will always act in ShadowClan’s best interest.” He spoke slowly, and Shadowpaw could tell that Tigerstar wanted him to hear another meaning beneath his words. He’s warning me not to tell the other medicine cats about the vision.