Bramblestar’s Storm

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 continuing 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?

In addition to grief for Dustpelt, Bramblestar wasn’t looking forward to hearing what WindClan and RiverClan would have to say about the way ThunderClan had interfered again. He had no doubt that Rowanstar would claim it had been unnecessary and overconfident, and a threat to the independence of all the Clans.

Yes, the badgers have been driven off, but at what cost to my warriors?

A joyful yowl from the direction of the lake distracted Bramblestar from his gloomy thoughts. A moment later Jessy and Millie rushed out of the trees.

“The water has gone!” Millie announced. “We can get into the hollow!”

Several cats sprang up and crowded around the two she-cats. Their excited voices echoed around the clearing.

“Is it really dry?”

“We can go home!”

“No more sleeping in that horrible, dark tunnel!”

Brackenfur rose more slowly. “Calm down,” he meowed, thrusting himself into the enthusiastic throng. “It’ll take a lot of work to rebuild the old dens. I’ll come down now and take a look at the damage.”

“We’ll come with you!” Snowpaw bounced up and down. “We’ll all help!”

With the apprentices scampering ahead, all the cats ran into the trees and headed down the slope. Bramblestar fell in behind them, and found that Jessy had waited for him at the edge of the trees.