Sunrise

However much he tried to forget, that night of fire and storm was seared into Lionblaze’s memory. He could hear the roar of the flames on the cliff top, and could see them licking hungrily around him and his littermates as Ashfur blocked the end of the branch they needed to scramble toward safety. Squirrelflight’s confession rang in his ears again: She had told Ashfur that Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather were not her kits. It was the only way to save their lives, by pretending she did not care what happened to them, but she had handed Ashfur a weapon more terrible than any flaming branch. Lionblaze knew that the gray warrior would have announced the truth to all the Clans at the Gathering; only death had closed his jaws forever and kept the secret safe.

“Lionblaze! Hey, Lionblaze, are you deaf?”

Lionblaze dragged his thoughts back to the hollow to see Spiderleg waving him over with his tail.

“You were Ashfur’s last apprentice,” the black warrior prompted as Lionblaze padded reluctantly up to the group. “Do you know if he’d quarreled with any cat?”

“Especially any WindClan cat?” Thornclaw added, with a meaningful twitch of his whiskers.

Lionblaze shook his head. “Uh…no,” he replied awkwardly. He couldn’t lie and say that Ashfur had quarreled with a WindClan cat, even though he wished with every hair on his pelt that it was true. Letting his Clanmates believe such a thing could cause an all-out war between ThunderClan and WindClan. “I hadn’t seen much of Ashfur just before he died,” he added.

To his relief, no other cats questioned him.

“We’d know if Ashfur quarreled with a ThunderClan cat,” Brackenfur insisted. “It’s impossible to keep a secret around here.”

If only you knew! Lionblaze thought.

“Brackenfur’s right.” Sorreltail touched her nose to her mate’s ear. “But all the same, we can’t be sure that a WindClan cat—”

“Ashfur died on the WindClan border,” Spiderleg interrupted. “What more do you want?”

Sorreltail turned to face him, her neck fur bristling at his scathing tone. “I want a bit more evidence than where his body was found before I start blaming any cat.”

Honeyfern and Brackenfur murmured agreement, but Lionblaze could see that most of the cats were convinced that a WindClan warrior was responsible for Ashfur’s death. However much he worried about what that could lead to, he couldn’t bury a guilty sense of relief.

“Are we going to let WindClan get away with this?” Thornclaw demanded, his ears lying flat as he dug his claws into the earth.

“No!” Berrynose leaped to his paws. “We have to show them they can’t mess with ThunderClan.”

Lionblaze’s belly churned as he saw the warriors cluster more closely around Thornclaw. They were behaving as if the golden brown tom was their leader, and seemed ready to follow him into battle to avenge their Clanmate’s murder.

“It would be best to attack by night,” Thornclaw began. “There’ll be enough moonlight to see by, and they won’t be expecting trouble.”

“We’ll see they get it, though.” Spiderleg lashed his tail.

“We’ll head for the WindClan camp,” Thornclaw continued. “It’ll be best to split up: One raiding party can attack from this direction—”

“What?” The low growl came from just behind Lionblaze.

Startled, Lionblaze glanced over his shoulder to see Brambleclaw; he, along with all the other cats, had been so intent on what Thornclaw was planning that he hadn’t heard the Clan deputy approach.

“We’re going to raid WindClan,” Spiderleg explained, bunching his muscles as if he was planning to launch himself out of the camp right away. “One of them killed Ashfur, and—”

“There will be no raid on WindClan,” Brambleclaw interrupted, a glow of anger springing up in his amber eyes. “There is no evidence that a WindClan cat killed Ashfur.”

Lionblaze gazed at the cat he had always believed was his father. Does he know the truth? he wondered, remembering all the times that Brambleclaw had play wrestled with him and his littermates when they were kits, and how many times he had helped them or advised them as they grew older. Squirrelflight had told Ashfur that Brambleclaw didn’t know the truth, but Lionblaze had no reason to trust her now. If he does know, he’s a very good liar.

As good as Squirrelflight.

Brambleclaw didn’t wait for a response. He stalked off in the direction of the tumbled rocks that led up to the Highledge, only to halt after a couple of paces and glance back, twitching his ears to beckon Lionblaze to him.

“Are you okay?” The deputy’s voice was full of sympathy. “Ashfur was your mentor, after all.”

But we weren’t close. Lionblaze didn’t want to say the words aloud, but he had always known there was something wrong between himself and Ashfur; they had never known the true bond between a mentor and apprentice. Had Ashfur hated him the same way he had hated Squirrelflight? What a waste: Lionblaze wasn’t even Squirrelflight’s son.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled.