River Of Fire

She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “Bramblestar will give the order if he thinks the storm is bad enough,” she replied. “Meanwhile, all we can do is wait and see.” She flinched at another growl of thunder that sounded as if a gigantic cat was crouched at the top of the cliff. “Maybe we’d better move Briarlight, though,” she added. “She’ll be harder to move if the weather gets any worse.”

“I’ll see to it,” Alderheart mewed.

He pushed past the bramble screen once more and stared up at the sky. Rain swept across the camp, driven by the wind, and as Alderheart gazed upward, he flinched at another crackling claw of lightning.

Is this the storm? he wondered. The storm that the dark sky must not herald?

A weight of apprehension gathered in Alderheart’s belly. He couldn’t help thinking that maybe Leafstar’s gesture of letting Sleekwhisker and Yarrowleaf stay in SkyClan was not enough. Perhaps we should have done more to revive ShadowClan, like Twigpaw said—and perhaps we should have tried harder to bring RiverClan back among us.

Bracing himself for the cold and wet, Alderheart dashed out into the storm and headed for the warriors’ den. The rain had turned the dusty earth of the camp into mud that splashed up into his belly fur as he pelted across the open space. Sticking his head through a gap in the brambles that lined the walls of the den, Alderheart saw his Clanmates curled up in their nests, buried as deeply as possible in moss and bracken to avoid the chilly drops of rain that penetrated the roof.

“Wake up,” he meowed. “I need two of you to come and help me move Briarlight.”

“I will,” Sorrelstripe volunteered immediately.

Ambermoon rose to her paws and shook off the scraps of bedding that clung to her pelt. “And me.”

Together the two she-cats brushed past Alderheart and raced across the camp to the nursery. Alderheart followed.

At the entrance to the nursery Twigpaw was crouching, peering out at the sky. “Are you as worried about this as I am?” she asked, as Alderheart slipped into shelter and stood shivering.

“Maybe,” Alderheart responded, his voice a bit sharper than he had intended.

It was less than a half-moon since Twigpaw had come back from sneaking off to SkyClan camp, excited at the idea the two of them had come up with, to persuade Tawnypelt to become the leader of a rebuilt ShadowClan. Sparkpelt and Bramblestar had both been furious with Twigpaw.

It sounded like Tawnypelt and some of the other former ShadowClan cats were intrigued by the idea. But it wasn’t a ThunderClan apprentice’s job to challenge the leadership of other Clans.

I understand she’s concerned, Alderheart thought. But even I have to admit she really overstepped. ShadowClan is none of our business.

He was a bit hurt, too, that Twigpaw hadn’t taken his advice, or seen fit to talk over her idea with him before heading off to SkyClan. I’m a medicine cat, and I would have told her that no cat can install a new leader without StarClan’s approval.

“Did you hear anything about ShadowClan at last night’s half-moon meeting?” Twigpaw asked.

The question did nothing to make Alderheart feel friendlier toward her. The meeting at the Moonpool was medicine-cat business, and it was up to them how much they revealed. But in this case, there was nothing much to say.

“Puddleshine reported that he was busy looking after Yarrowleaf and her two kits,” he replied. “But he can’t support the idea of reviving ShadowClan without a sign from StarClan. And none of us received a sign last night.”

Twigpaw was visibly disappointed, crouching lower with her head drooping. Alderheart instantly felt sorry that he had been cool toward her. But just then Ambermoon and Sorrelstripe approached from the depths of the nursery, carrying Briarlight between them, and he decided that he had better concentrate on what he had to do.

“Take her up to the tunnel where the Clan camped in the Great Storm,” he directed. “I’ll follow in a few heartbeats and check on her.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Briarlight meowed stoutly. “I love getting my fur wet!”

Alderheart noticed, as the two warriors carried her past him, that Sorrelstripe was staggering a little, and her eyes were fixed and glassy. Oh, not another one! was his first thought. Then he decided that the dark brown she-cat was probably just tired. StarClan knows, life’s been tough enough lately.