Bramblestar's Storm

by Erin Hunter

  Scorchfur and Bramblestar faced each other for a heartbeat, breathing hard. Then Scorchfur gave a tiny nod. “You fight well, ThunderClan cat.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” Bramblestar responded.

  Turning back to the battle, he spotted Jessy again, this time perched on the back of a badger with Ivypool and Snowpaw. She and Snowpaw were clawing vigorously at the badger’s back, while Ivypool balanced on its neck and raked her claws across its eyes.

  Bramblestar shuddered. A Dark Forest move . . .

  A badger charged in front of Bramblestar, cutting him off from Jessy and the others. Poppyfrost and Lilypaw raced after it alongside Pinenose from ShadowClan. As the badger slowed down, looking for a gap in the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing, Lilypaw outpaced the other she-cats and with a wild screech sprang up to fasten her claws and teeth in the badger’s tail. She swung there, all her fur bushed out, until the badger found its escape route and blundered away. Then she dropped lightly to her paws and bounded back to her mentor.

  Bramblestar raced up to meet her. “Lilypaw, that was brilliant!” he meowed. “Great job!”

  Lilypaw’s eyes shone with reflected moonlight. “I’m fighting for Seedpaw too!” she gasped.

  Once again Bramblestar paused to check on the state of the battle. The crowd of struggling animals seemed to have thinned out. I saw two badgers leave. . . . Maybe we’re going to win this fight!

  Then Bramblestar spotted another pair of badgers at the far side of the clearing. They were crouching over the body of a cat who snarled and lashed out at them, but couldn’t attack both of them at once. The cat was half-hidden by the badgers’ bodies, but a ray of moonlight showed Bramblestar a familiar patch of tortoiseshell fur.

  Tawnypelt!

  One of the badgers had raised a paw, braced to bring it slamming down on the ShadowClan she-cat. Bramblestar began racing toward them, but he already knew he would be too late.

  It’s too far. I’ll never get to them in time. Tawnypelt’s going to die. . . .

  CHAPTER 31

  Then Bramblestar saw Squirrelflight. The dark ginger she-cat bunched her muscles and soared upward in a massive leap, clearing the back of a badger that stood in her way. Her paws barely touched the ground before she sprang up again, reached a low-growing beech branch, then leaped to the fork between an ash branch and the tree’s trunk. From there she hurled herself down with a terrifying shriek on top of the badger looming over Tawnypelt.

  The badger’s blow fell, but it barely grazed Tawnypelt, who rolled clear. The badger reared up, throwing Squirrelflight off. Bramblestar winced at the hard thump as his deputy’s body hit the ground, but the next moment she was on her paws again. As Bramblestar finally raced up to them she met his gaze and nodded before throwing herself into the battle.

  Tawnypelt sprang to her paws and faced the second badger. Side by side, she and Bramblestar forced it back, ducking beneath its gaping jaws to slash at its throat. Tawnypelt’s shoulder was oozing blood, but the wound didn’t seem to slow her down.

  “Get off our territory!” she snarled at the vast creature. “Or I’ll line my nest with your fur!”

  The badger lumbered away, with Tawnypelt following, harrying it with nips at its hind paws. Bramblestar, confident that his sister was okay, spun around and flung himself at a badger that held Crowfrost, the ShadowClan deputy, down with one huge paw, while its teeth bit hard into his shoulder. Bramblestar leaped up and dug his claws into the badger’s neck. It let out an enraged bellow and let itself fall sideways, crushing Bramblestar underneath its massive body.

  Letting out a howl of pain, Bramblestar struggled to free himself, but the badger had him pinned to the ground, its stinking flank pressing on his face and filling his mouth with fur. He couldn’t get a paw free to defend himself. As he fought to breathe, Bramblestar felt as if he was sinking into a glittering darkness.

  StarClan, help me!

  Suddenly the weight lifted off Bramblestar. Gasping for breath, he scrabbled to his paws, confused for a moment by the roaring and screeching all around him, the crashes from the undergrowth and the reek of blood. As his vision cleared he saw that Bumblestripe had taken on the badger, bravely crouching low to lash out at the creature’s belly. From the corner of his eye Bramblestar spotted Crowfrost stretched out on the ground, his twitching tail-tip all that showed he was alive. As he watched, Spiderleg darted out of a nearby bush, fastened his teeth in Crowfrost’s scruff, and dragged him away.

  Bramblestar staggered toward the badger to help Bumblestripe, but at the same moment the badger turned tail and headed out of the clearing, leaving a trail of blood spattering the ground.

  “Thanks,” Bramblestar panted with a nod to Bumblestripe. “Where’s Dovewing?”

  Bumblestripe angled his ears across the clearing. “There,” he mewed grimly.

  Looking where he pointed, Bramblestar saw Dovewing attacking a young badger side by side with Tigerheart. First one, then the other would dart forward, slash at the badger’s muzzle, and leap back, confusing the badger because it didn’t know which cat to attack first.

  Leap and slash . . . leap and slash . . . At first Bramblestar was impressed by the unspoken closeness between the two young cats, the natural rhythm they shared as they drove the badger back into a bramble thicket. But after a moment the sight began to trouble him. Where did they learn to fight together like that? Any cat would think those two had known each other for moons, and trained together.

  But Bramblestar had no time to think about that. The sounds of battle were beginning to die away. Some of the badgers had already fled, and the others were yielding, ready to be chased off. Bramblestar allowed himself a sigh of relief.

  It’s almost over!

  A heartbeat later he realized he had allowed himself to relax too soon. The biggest, most ferocious badger hadn’t given up. Bramblestar gaped with amazement at its speed as it lumbered across the clearing away from the main throng of battle. He realized that its target was two small ShadowClan cats—apprentices by the look of them—who were crouching together in the shelter of a clump of ferns, licking each other’s wounds. They looked up with horror in their eyes as the badger bore down on them.

  Bramblestar launched himself forward, but he was too late to stop the creature. He raced after it, then spotted Jessy hurling herself at the badger from the opposite side.

  She waved her tail when she saw Bramblestar. “With me!” she screeched.

  Jessy shot straight in front of the badger, distracting it from snapping at the two young cats, who plunged deeper into the undergrowth with squeals of terror. Jumping up and down in front of the badger, backing away so that she was always just out of reach, Jessy lured it toward the edge of the trees.

  “Come back!” Bramblestar yowled.

  “No,” Jessy responded. “I know what I’m doing!”

  Terrified for her, Bramblestar streaked across to her side and kept pace with her as they pelted ahead of the badger. Tree roots tripped them and bramble tendrils reached out to snag their fur. Exhausted from the battle, Bramblestar knew he was too slow. He imagined he could already feel the badger’s hot, stinking breath on his fur and braced himself for the sting of snapping teeth.

  Suddenly the leaf-strewn ground vanished, and the two cats lurched to a halt at the edge of the stream on the far side of ShadowClan territory. The water had gone down, but it was still far too wide to jump across. And there was no hope of swimming across the swift-flowing current, which snatched debris and branches downriver in front of them.

  “Great StarClan, we’re trapped!” Bramblestar gasped. “We’ll have to fight our way out.”

  Jessy ignored him; she was frantically scanning the water. “It’s here somewhere,” she muttered.

  “What?” Bramblestar panted, aware of the badger crashing through the undergrowth, getting nearer with every heartbeat.

  Jessy began running downstream, her gaze flicking back and forth. Suddenly she halted and turne
d to Bramblestar, balancing right on the edge of the surging black water. “Follow me,” she meowed.

  “We can’t swim across that!” Bramblestar protested.

  Jessy fixed her amber gaze on him. “Trust me.”

  Bramblestar hesitated, then touched his nose to hers. He nodded. “Lead on.”

  The badger broke out of the undergrowth and covered the open ground between them with massive strides. Bramblestar flexed his claws as it loomed over him and Jessy and he looked up into its tiny, malignant eyes.

  Jessy gave one more glance around, took a deep breath, and jumped into the stream. Bramblestar flinched, waiting for her to be swept underwater, then realized that she was still standing, fighting the current, but with water only reaching up to her belly.

  For a moment Bramblestar stood still, gaping in astonishment.

  “Quick!” Jessy screeched.

  Knowing that he was trusting her with his life, Bramblestar leaped into the water beside Jessy. His paws struck something hard just beneath the surface, but before he could get his balance he started to slip. Jessy grabbed his scruff in her teeth and hauled him back before he could fall into the stream.

  “There’s a tree trunk crossing the stream just here,” she panted. “It’s underwater now, but I remembered where it was.”

  I can’t believe this! Bramblestar thought, stunned. Every hair on his pelt rose in alarm as he stood on top of the turbulent current. There was no way of seeing the tree beneath the surface, but it was definitely there, solid and steady against the flow of water. Bramblestar sank his claws into the perilously narrow trunk and braced himself. With Jessy beside him he stood firm as the badger let out a roar and lunged toward them.

  But the badger didn’t know where the tree trunk was. There was a huge splash, soaking both cats, as it plunged into the stream and vanished beneath the surface. Moments later it reappeared as the current washed it down toward the lake, sputtering and bellowing as it thrashed its paws.

  Jessy’s eyes gleamed as she watched it out of sight. Then both cats jumped back to the bank and shook water from their pelts. Bramblestar wanted to let out a yowl of pure joy and admiration for Jessy’s courage and quick thinking.

  Instead he gave her a nod. “Not bad—for a kittypet,” he meowed.

  Jessy let out a small mrrow of amusement. “Not bad—for a wild cat,” she retorted.

  Together Bramblestar and Jessy raced back to the clearing, to find that the rest of the badgers had gone. Warriors from ShadowClan and ThunderClan stood side by side, their chests heaving, blood trickling from their wounds, as they assessed the damage.

  “How’s Crowfrost?” Bramblestar demanded. He couldn’t see the ShadowClan deputy, and knew how badly hurt he had been.

  “He’ll be okay,” Pouncetail replied. “Pinenose and Stoatfur are helping him back to see Littlecloud.”

  Looking around at the rest of the cats, Bramblestar saw that none of them was unmarked. Spiderleg was one of the worst injured, with almost all his fur missing from one side, while Scorchfur had both ears slashed, and Ivypool was standing on three legs with one paw raised and bleeding. But all the wounds looked as if they would heal in time.

  We won! Bramblestar thought, exhilaration flooding through him. We defeated the badgers and survived!

  Then he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He turned to see Brightheart, her single eye full of sorrow. “It’s Dustpelt,” she whispered.

  With a lurch of horror in his belly, Bramblestar followed Brightheart across the clearing. Dustpelt was lying on his side in the midst of the trampled debris from the battle. Blood was trickling from his mouth and his brown tabby body was lacerated with countless claw marks. His eyes were closed and his breath came in short, shallow puffs.

  Bramblestar crouched beside him. “Hold on, Dustpelt,” he begged. “We’ll get help.”

  The tabby tom’s eyes flickered open. “It’s okay,” he rasped. “It’s my time.”

  “No!” cried Bramblestar. He leaned forward so that his forehead rested against Dustpelt’s. “Not yet. Not here. You have served your Clan so well and for so long. Now it is our turn to serve you. The elders’ den is waiting for you, Dustpelt.”

  The tip of Dustpelt’s tail twitched. “That is not where I want to be,” he murmured. “Thank you, Bramblestar, for everything. May StarClan light your path, always.”

  The ShadowClan cats stood back and allowed Dustpelt’s Clanmates to gather around him as his breathing grew feebler and his eyes closed again. As Dustpelt sighed out his last breath, a pale gray shape appeared beside him, a cat with a pale gray pelt that glimmered in the moonlight, and the frosty glitter of stars around her paws. Her blue eyes shone with love as she gazed at the fallen warrior.

  “Ferncloud!” Bramblestar breathed.

  Other, fainter shapes appeared behind her: Bramblestar recognized Foxleap, who had died from his wounds after the Great Battle; Icecloud, who had succumbed to the recent bout of greencough; and others with them, all the lost kits of Dustpelt and Ferncloud, warriors of StarClan who had come to honor their father. Bramblestar stared in amazement as the spirit of Dustpelt rose from his mutilated body and padded up to Ferncloud, bending his head to touch noses with her. The two cats twined their tails together and for a moment the clearing shone even more brightly with silver light. Then the starry shapes began to fade, until all that was left was a few wisps of shimmering mist, and then nothing.

  A long sigh escaped Bramblestar. His grief at Dustpelt’s death was tinged with a strange feeling of joy. He found it so hard to go on without Ferncloud, and now they’re together again.

  Bramblestar realized that Tawnypelt was standing at his side. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, dipping her head toward Dustpelt. “He was a noble warrior. All of the Clans will grieve for him.”

  Bramblestar nodded. “May he be at peace now.” He suddenly felt exhausted, bitterly aware of every scratch and bite on his pelt. He wondered if his legs had enough strength to carry him back to his own territory.

  Tawnypelt traced his flank with the tip of her tail. “I can never thank you enough for what you did tonight,” she purred. “This was more than ThunderClan protecting its own hunting grounds, wasn’t it? You came because you are my brother, and I needed you.”

  Bramblestar gazed into her warm green eyes. “Always,” he murmured. An image flashed into his mind of the lake filling with scarlet water that swirled to the surface until it swallowed the reflected starlight. Firestar’s strange prophecy echoed in his ears: When water meets blood, blood will rise. His vision of Yellowfang had shown him the same thing. And finally Bramblestar understood.

  Tawnypelt shares my blood. We are the son and daughter of Tigerstar and Goldenflower. When the flood threatened us both, our kinship gave us strength to survive. That’s what the prophecy meant!

  Bramblestar didn’t try to explain all this to Tawnypelt. He knew this wasn’t the place or the time. But he raised his head to look at the stars glittering above him, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to StarClan.

  “Tawnypelt, it’s time to go back to camp.” Rowanstar’s voice broke into Bramblestar’s thoughts.

  Tawnypelt dipped her head, then touched noses briefly with Bramblestar before turning away to join her Clanmates, who were limping out of the clearing.

  Rowanstar faced Bramblestar. His orange pelt was ruffled and smeared with blood, and one eye was swollen closed. But he held his head high, and stood with his shoulders squared. “Thank you for your help,” he meowed. Then hostility flashed into his eyes. “But we didn’t ask for it!”

  Bramblestar said nothing. He wasn’t going to get Tawnypelt into trouble by telling her mate about the plea for help. He wondered when Rowanstar would realize that ThunderClan had enabled them to win this battle. He waited for one of the ShadowClan warriors to pitch in and point out that without ThunderClan, the badgers would have destroyed them all. But no cat spoke, and Rowanstar still glared at Bramblestar as if he was on the verge of cont
inuing the battle.

  “Don’t be like Firestar,” the ShadowClan leader growled, drawing his lips back in the beginnings of a snarl. “Stop interfering, Bramblestar. This is your last warning!”

  CHAPTER 32

  Sunlight, golden and thick as honey, bathed the forest. Outside the tunnel most of the cats of ThunderClan were basking in the sun’s rays, licking their wounds and telling one another stories of the battle against the badgers. Two sunrises had passed since their expedition to help ShadowClan, but the excitement of their victory still bubbled up among them like springs of pure water.

  “You should have seen Lionblaze fighting!” Amberpaw mewed. “He was like three cats, all on his own.”

  “And Jessy was brilliant,” Frankie added. “She wasn’t scared at all!”

  Bramblestar couldn’t share in their cheerful talk. A dark mood had settled over him as he wondered if he had been right to take his warriors to fight ShadowClan’s battle. Rowanstar’s furious parting shot had forced Bramblestar to question the risks he had taken for an ungrateful rival.

  If I hadn’t insisted on helping ShadowClan, Dustpelt would still be alive. Bramblestar was missing the sharp-tongued, cranky warrior more than he would have thought possible. Now he watched Dustpelt’s son Spiderleg returning from the place where his father had been buried on the slope above the tunnel. Spiderleg’s head drooped sadly and his tail trailed on the ground. So much pain . . . Hasn’t enough ThunderClan blood been spilled?