The Silent Thaw

by Erin Hunter

  Scorchfur bristled as he stared at Shadowsight. “Why did you listen to this voice? You should have known better. You’re supposed to be a medicine cat. We trusted you!”

  Shadowsight seemed to shrink beneath his pelt.

  Rootpaw stepped in front of him and curled his tail protectively over Shadowsight’s spine. “He was doing his best.”

  Tigerstar lifted his muzzle. “What’s done is done,” he mewed firmly. “We can’t change it now. ShadowClan warriors have always done their best to protect their Clanmates, and that won’t ever change. Turning on one another is not the answer.”

  Flowerstem padded tentatively forward. “How do we know all this is true?” She glanced skeptically at Squirrelflight. “These cats might be trying to stir up trouble because they disagree with Bramblestar.”

  Tigerstar narrowed his eyes. “But we know Bramblestar isn’t behaving like himself.”

  Scorchfur huffed. “ThunderClan has always been bossy.”

  Dovewing frowned. “Never this bossy.”

  “I can show you Bramblestar’s ghost if you like.” Tree gazed around the gathered cats.

  Tawnypelt’s eyes widened. “I forgot you could do that.”

  Rootpaw glanced nervously at his father. He was still tired after summoning the ghost for Shadowsight. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed it. Tree had told him to picture the ghost as hard as he could, and call out to him with his mind, focusing his thoughts onto a single patch of ground. Could he do it again so soon, especially knowing a whole Clan was watching? A whole Clan that would now know that Rootpaw was as strange as his father, if they realized who was actually summoning the spirit?

  I have to, he told himself. This is too important.

  He nudged Tree’s shoulder with his nose. “What if I can’t make it appear this time?” he whispered softly.

  Tree nosed Rootpaw away and lowered his voice. “You’ll be fine,” he breathed. “Just do what I told you. . . .”

  “What if I’m not strong enough?” Rootpaw glanced back at the watching ShadowClan cats.

  “You’re stronger than you think,” Tree told him. “And it’ll be easier this time. He’s your ghost, and he wants to come. You just have to open the way.”

  Rootpaw swallowed. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  Tree slid in front of Rootpaw and faced the expectant warriors. Rootpaw closed his eyes. He pictured Bramblestar’s ghost, imagining its watery outline, its tabby pelt, the wide forehead and muscled shoulders. He visualized it shimmering into view and felt himself shudder with the effort. His paws shook. Energy fizzed in his fur. This was how it had felt last time. It must be working. He half opened his eyes to look.

  Tree was trembling slightly as he pretended to summon the apparition. But it was already there, standing in the clearing. Triumph pulsed beneath Rootpaw’s pelt as the ShadowClan cats stared at the ghost, fur spiking with alarm. I did it again!

  It stiffened as it seemed to realize every eye in the ShadowClan camp was on it. “Can you see me?”

  Tigerstar nodded slowly as though wondering if he were dreaming.

  “Some cat has stolen my body,” the ghost mewed quickly.

  Squirrelflight darted toward it, desperation in her gaze. “Bramblestar!” Her muzzle passed through the ghost’s, which was no more solid than air, and she backed away, trembling.

  The ghost glanced at her apologetically, then stared at the ShadowClan cats. “Don’t listen to the impostor. It’s not me!” It glanced at Shadowsight. “Don’t blame Shadowsight—he was tricked. Whatever took my body will do anything to get what it wants.”

  Rootpaw’s heart began to pound and his paws felt as heavy as stone. He staggered, every hair in his pelt suddenly drained of energy, but he fought to keep the ghost there.

  “You’re doing it!” Tree whispered beside Rootpaw.

  His father’s mew broke Rootpaw’s concentration. The ghost flickered into thin air and the ShadowClan cats blinked with surprise, as though waking from a dream.

  Rootpaw struggled to stay on his paws. He felt more tired than he’d ever felt in his life. But he didn’t want the others to know he’d made the ghost appear. As he wobbled like a newborn kit, his father dropped beside him, pretending to be exhausted. Rootpaw felt a rush of relief as the gathered cats’ attention flashed toward the yellow tom, their eyes glittering with shock.

  “Was that really Bramblestar?” Flowerstem gasped.

  “Yes!” Tawnypelt’s ears twitched excitedly.

  “It must be a trick,” Scorchfur growled. “Bramblestar’s still alive.”

  “We told you—the living Bramblestar isn’t the real Bramblestar!” Squirrelflight snapped.

  Rootpaw glanced past them. He could still see the ghost. It was standing in the clearing, watching the ShadowClan cats.

  It padded to Rootpaw’s side. “They know everything I know,” it murmured. “They have to fight now.”

  Tigerstar’s tail flicked ominously. “Who is this impostor?”

  Tree struggled to his paws. “We don’t know yet.”

  Puddleshine looked puzzled. “Is it a rogue?”

  Squirrelflight frowned. “How could a rogue know about StarClan?” she murmured. “This cat must have been a warrior once.”

  Tigerstar snorted. “A warrior would never try to harm the Clans.”

  “Really?” Squirrelflight stared at him. “I suppose you’re too young to remember the Great Battle.”

  “I know we lost Clanmates,” he growled.

  “They were killed by cats who used to be warriors,” Squirrelflight mewed darkly.

  “But the Great Battle threatened all the Clans.” Tigerstar’s pelt prickled. “This is ThunderClan’s problem.”

  Rootpaw blinked. Did he really believe that? Alarm flashed in the ghost’s eyes.

  Shadowsight stepped in front of his father. “An impostor is leader of ThunderClan,” he mewed. “Because of him, cats in every Clan want to punish their Clanmates. How can you say it’s just a ThunderClan problem?”

  The ghost leaned toward Rootpaw. “Remind Tigerstar that he and I are kin,” he murmured. “And that I took him in when Darktail drove him from his Clan. He owes me. He owes ThunderClan.”

  Rootpaw stared at the ghost, still tired from making it appear. “How can I say that?” he murmured, as quietly as he could. Didn’t the ghost realize that Tigerstar was the leader of another Clan?

  The ghost stared at him sternly. “Say it however you like,” he growled. “But say it. We need Tigerstar’s help.”

  The ghost was right. Rootpaw squared his shoulders and faced the ShadowClan leader. “I thought Bramblestar was your kin.”

  “Clan is more important than kin,” Tigerstar growled.

  Rootpaw narrowed his eyes. “I heard he took you in when Darktail chased you out of ShadowClan.”

  “That’s right!” Squirrelflight flicked her tail eagerly. “We gave you sanctuary.”

  Tigerstar looked at her warily as the ShadowClan cats exchanged glances.

  Tawnypelt padded forward. “Darktail tore our Clan apart, and the other Clans stood up to him,” she mewed.

  Tigerstar frowned. “They did it to protect themselves, not us.”

  Dovewing gazed at the ShadowClan leader. “Do you really believe that this impostor doesn’t mean to harm us all? We can’t let him carry on as leader of ThunderClan. He’s made it clear time and time again that he wants to tell every Clan what to do, not just ThunderClan.”

  Tawnypelt nodded. “He threatened to replace you with another leader, remember?”

  Tigerstar met the tortoiseshell’s clear, green gaze and held it for a moment. Then he dipped his head. “You’re right.” He looked around at his warriors. “This isn’t something we can ignore. ThunderClan needs its rightful leader back for all our sakes.”

  As hope flashed in Rootpaw’s chest, Dovewing lifted her tail. “Can Squirrelflight stay here?” she mewed.

  “Yes.” Tigerstar met his mate’s gaze. “She will
be treated like a Clanmate for as long as she’s with us. In the meantime, we need to come up with a plan to get rid of this impostor.”

  “Kill him!” Whorlpelt flexed his claws. “If he’s not a leader, he won’t have nine lives. It’ll be easy.”

  The ghost bristled beside Rootpaw. “If you kill him,” Rootpaw mewed, stepping forward quickly. “the real Bramblestar’s ghost won’t have a body to return to.”

  Tree tipped his head. “We have to bide our time,” he mewed. “We need to get the support of every Clan. We can’t let this turn into war.”

  Squirrelflight nodded. “The impostor mustn’t realize that we know he’s not Bramblestar.” She looked at Tree. “You have to carry on with your atonement.”

  “Do I tell the other Clans what I’ve told you?” Tree blinked at her.

  “Not until we’re sure they’re ready to hear,” mewed Squirrelflight.

  Puddleshine looked thoughtful. “I can share what we know with the other medicine cats,” he suggested. “They might be able to influence their Clans without directly challenging the cats who support the impostor.”

  Tawnypelt frowned. “But surely no cat would support him if they knew he was an impostor?”

  Squirrelflight shifted her paws. “It’s not an easy story to believe,” she mewed. “I wasn’t ready to believe it at first, and I shared a den with him.” She shuddered. “Puddleshine’s right. We should try to persuade the other Clans through their medicine cats.”

  “I’ll tell the others at the next half-moon meeting,” Puddleshine mewed.

  Dovewing blinked at Tigerstar. “I’ll have to go back into exile,” she told him. “So that the impostor thinks we agree with him.”

  Tigerstar looked alarmed. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “I won’t go far,” Dovewing promised him. “If I’m free to roam where I like, I might be able to keep an eye on ThunderClan.”

  “Be careful.” Tigerstar’s pelt lifted along his spine.

  Dovewing met his gaze. “I’ll be very careful,” she promised.

  Rootpaw glanced at the ghost. Hope was glistening in its eyes. He’d done what it had asked. And he’d made it visible to the others. He couldn’t help feeling a glimmer of pride. Perhaps being like Tree wasn’t so bad after all—as long as no cat found out. He looked around at the ShadowClan cats. They were willing to stand up to the impostor. Despite the fear swirling beneath his pelt, Rootpaw felt hopeful. And yet ShadowClan was only one Clan. What if they failed? What if the other Clans continued to support the impostor? Would following the warrior code lead them to their own destruction?

  Chapter 23

  Bristlefrost half closed her eyes and relished the warmth of the newleaf sun that washed the clearing. She was pretending to doze in a pool of sunshine beside the nursery, but she was really watching Finleap and Twigbranch struggle to uproot a thornbush at the edge of the camp. Bramblestar claimed that it would smother the warriors’ den if it was left to grow, but the whole Clan knew it had been there for moons and barely grew at all. This was a punishment. The ThunderClan leader had accused Finleap and Twigbranch of codebreaking after they’d forgotten to thank StarClan for their catch earlier in the day. Berrynose, ThunderClan’s new deputy, had been on patrol with them. He hadn’t warned them at the time, but he’d told Bramblestar about their misdemeanor as soon as they returned to camp.

  Bristlefrost’s pelt prickled uncomfortably. Was I that eager to please when I was trying to help Bramblestar? She shuddered. I won’t ever tell on my Clanmates again.

  In the days since he’d driven Squirrelflight from the camp, Bramblestar had been insisting his warriors pay closer and closer attention to the code, but he was continually announcing new interpretations of rules, to the point where no cat knew what was codebreaking and what wasn’t.

  The ThunderClan leader was watching Finleap and Twigbranch from the Highledge. He lay there alone, his chin hanging over the edge of the stone while Finleap and Twigbranch dug deeper between the roots of the thorn tree. Their pelts were ruffled and specked with soil, and their paws were filthy as they tried once more to dislodge the stubborn bush.

  Berrynose padded toward the exhausted warriors. “Get a move on,” he growled. “Bramblestar wants it dug up by dusk. What’s taking you so long?”

  Bristlefrost saw the cream-colored tom glance up at Bramblestar. Was he hoping the ThunderClan leader would be impressed? Bramblestar stared straight through his new deputy, and Bristlefrost felt a shiver of satisfaction. The more Berrynose tried to please Bramblestar, the more Bramblestar seemed to despise him.

  A fresh wave of dislike for the new ThunderClan deputy washed over Bristlefrost as Berrynose kicked loose earth back into the hole Finleap and Twigbranch had dug around the roots of the bush.

  Finleap glared at him. “What did you do that for?”

  “It was an accident,” Berrynose sniffed.

  “Yeah, right.” Twigbranch narrowed her eyes at the ThunderClan deputy, clearly unconvinced.

  Berrynose shrugged. “You shouldn’t pile the earth so close to the hole.”

  Twigbranch bared her teeth, but Finleap nudged her back to work. “Just keep digging,” he murmured as Berrynose stalked away.

  “Berrynose!” Bramblestar lifted his head.

  Berrynose pricked his ears and scrambled eagerly up the rock tumble. He stopped in front of the ThunderClan leader. “Yes, Bramblestar? What can I do for you?”

  Bramblestar eyed him coldly. “Why aren’t the hunting patrols back?” He nodded toward the fresh-kill pile, which was still only half-full.

  “They haven’t been out for long,” Berrynose told him.

  Bramblestar flattened his ears. “You should have sent them out earlier.”

  “I’m a mouse-brain.” Berrynose dipped his head apologetically at his leader. “I’ll send them out earlier tomorrow.”

  Bristlefrost growled to herself. Didn’t Berrynose have any pride?

  Bristlefrost was relieved that Bramblestar had passed her duties to his new deputy. She didn’t want to give orders on behalf of an impostor. But she couldn’t help feeling that Berrynose didn’t care who patrolled or hunted; he just enjoyed bossing his Clanmates around.

  Bramblestar got to his paws. “Go away,” he growled dismissively to Berrynose. He looked over the edge of the Highledge as his deputy slithered down the rock tumble. Bristlefrost tensed as the ThunderClan leader’s gaze flitted toward her and stopped. Her heart lurched as his eyes flashed with interest.

  Since Squirrelflight had left the camp, she’d expected to be accused of being a traitor at any moment. If Bramblestar had sent a spy after Squirrelflight, he could have sent spies after any cat. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d known about the secret meeting all along and was just leaving her dangling like prey while he decided how to punish her.

  “Come and talk to me, Bristlefrost,” he mewed silkily from the Highledge.

  She got to her paws, trying hard not to look at Twigbranch and Finleap. They’d been at the secret meeting, too, and she knew they’d be watching her and worrying about why Bramblestar wanted to talk. Her paws itched nervously. Perhaps the two warriors’ punishment had nothing to do with forgetting to thank StarClan. Perhaps Bramblestar knew about everything they’d been doing, and this was just the beginning of his reprisals. She swallowed back fear as she climbed the rock tumble, feeling queasy as Bramblestar pushed through the trailing stems that covered his den and beckoned her to follow with his tail.

  She blinked, adjusting to the gloom as she followed him inside. She tried not to let her nose wrinkle. His den was stuffy and smelled of stale bedding.

  Bramblestar sat down and stared at her from the shadows. “How do you like the new rules for the Clan?” He sounded cheery, and she tried to match his enthusiasm.

  “They’re great.” She lifted her chin. “StarClan is bound to come back soon.”

  “Indeed.” He leaned closer. “What do you think about making patrols walk in single file?”
<
br />   “It’s a good idea,” she told him. “It’ll stop Clanmates chattering when they should be hunting or checking borders.”

  Bramblestar looked pleased. “That’s what I thought.” He tipped his head thoughtfully to one side. “I wondered about making hunting patrols bring each piece of prey back to camp as soon as they catch it, instead of bringing back a whole day’s hunting in one go.”

  “Wouldn’t that make hunting harder?” Bristlefrost ventured.

  Bramblestar narrowed his eyes. “But I worry that, when warriors are out in the forest too long, they forget that Clan rules apply to them.”

  Bristlefrost blinked at him eagerly. “In that case, it’s a wonderful idea.” Shame burrowed beneath her pelt. She was behaving like Berrynose. But what choice did she have? She didn’t want to be exiled. She shifted her paws. Exile might be better than groveling to this fox-heart. She pushed the thought away. “The Clans have let the warrior code slip for so long,” she mewed. “They need to be reminded of it at all times. It’s the only way to bring StarClan back.”

  Bramblestar rested on his haunches. “I’m glad you see it that way,” he mewed warmly. “In fact, you seem to understand me more than any cat in the Clan.” His gaze lingered on her admiringly until she had to force back a shudder. He went on. “I appreciate your loyalty. You deserve more responsibility. I wish I could have made you deputy; it’s a shame you’re far too young. But I trust you, and I hope you realize that I rely on you to keep me informed about the Clan. You’re so observant, and you take your warrior duties very seriously.” He leaned closer. “Now that Squirrelflight has left, I value you as a confidante more than ever.”

  Bristlefrost dug her claws into the earth to stop herself from recoiling. “Th-thank you.” She looked away, her pelt hot. “You’re being too kind.”

  “Am I?” Bramblestar’s eyes glittered suddenly. “Am I really?”

  She saw him stiffen. Had she said something wrong?

  “I appreciate it,” she mewed quickly.

  He seemed to relax again. “It’s strange.” As he paused, his gaze drifted past her. “I noticed you were out of camp a few nights before the Gathering. A night patrol, perhaps?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I’m sure you had your Clan’s best interests at heart. I don’t doubt your loyalty, because you know what I do to cats who aren’t loyal.” He narrowed his eyes.