Veil Of Shadows

For the first time Shadowsight noticed that a small tortoiseshell she-cat—obviously an apprentice—had been close enough to see what had just happened, and had begun to back away, her nervous gaze fixed on her Clan leader. But she was not quick or quiet enough to escape.

“You!” Bramblestar snarled, turning and looming over the apprentice. “Go and fetch some mouse bile, and pick the ticks off the elders. All of them.”

“But I didn’t steal prey!” the apprentice protested.

“Maybe not.” Bramblestar’s growl came from deep within his chest. “But you stood by and let it happen. Go!”

The apprentice scurried off. Watching her and the other cats out in the stone hollow, Shadowsight realized how miserable they seemed. Every cat had a wary look—the same one they had when they expected a fox to leap out at them from a patch of shadow. No cat wanted to draw Bramblestar’s attention as he stalked past on his way back to his den.

My father was right, Shadowsight thought. This is the cat who attacked me. I just need to hear him say it.

He began to look for a way down from his ledge, but the rock wall below seemed sheer. His paw slipped as he tried to force it into a crack, and he bit back a yowl of terror as he imagined plummeting to the floor of the camp. Instead he found himself standing a tail-length from the rock, his paws firmly planted on the air.

Wow! he thought. I didn’t expect that!

Shadowsight let himself drop as gently as a falling leaf and began to follow Bramblestar, realizing it was no effort at all to keep quiet. He was not even sure that his paws were touching the ground; certainly he couldn’t feel any sharp edges as he climbed the tumbled rocks to the Highledge.

“Ungrateful cats!” Bramblestar was grumbling as he entered his den. Shadowsight slipped in behind him. “They need discipline. They need to be taught not to steal, not to question their leader, not to trespass . . .” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Wouldn’t you agree, Shadowsight?”

Shadowsight’s jaw dropped, and he stood gaping, utterly astonished. The false Bramblestar was staring straight at him. Panic surged through him, and it took all his courage not to flee back to his body in the SkyClan camp.

The ThunderClan leader bared his teeth in a grin. “That’s right . . . I can see you,” he meowed. “I knew you were trespassing in our territory the minute you appeared in the camp.”

Shadowsight struggled to find words. “But how?” he asked eventually.

Bramblestar shrugged. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been to StarClan and come back more powerful than you can imagine. Maybe it’s because I have a connection to those I’ve killed.”

Shadowsight let out a gasp. He’s confessed! He’s the one who attacked me!

“Or maybe,” Bramblestar continued, his face still set in the same chilling grin, “it’s because spirits can always recognize other spirits.”

As Shadowsight stared at him with a mixture of fear and disbelief, he thought he saw the edges of Bramblestar’s body begin to blur, as though mist were seeping out of his pelt. A heartbeat later another cat slid out like smoke from a burning fire and stood in front of Shadowsight, while the body he had left slumped to the floor of the den.

A glow pulsed around the cat’s pelt; Shadowsight found it hard to make out the color of his fur. But his eyes were dark blue, so different from Bramblestar’s warm amber ones. His gaze was fixed on Shadowsight with a menacing gleam.

Shadowsight felt horror turn his blood to ice and freeze his paws to the ground. I don’t know who this cat is, but I know it isn’t Bramblestar.

“What have you done to Bramblestar?” he asked, his voice shaking in spite of all his efforts to keep it steady.

The glowing presence glanced over at Bramblestar’s limp form, which lay stretched out as if he were sleeping. “All I did was take advantage of an opportunity,” he meowed in a voice that Shadowsight felt was strangely familiar. “You would think Bramblestar would be grateful. I’m living his life so much better than he ever could.” He flicked his tail dismissively. “But all he could do was moan about wanting his body back.”

Shadowsight could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Do you mean you’ve seen Bramblestar?” he asked. “Have you spoken to him?”

The impostor let out a contemptuous huff. “I don’t want to give myself away by letting the Clan cats know I can speak to the dead,” he replied. “So I just ignore Bramblestar and all his bitter muttering.” He paused, then added, “Well, I used to. Before Bramblestar . . .”

His words gave way to a drawn-out mrrow of laughter. Shadowsight thought he had never heard anything so evil; all the fur on his back stood on end at the sound.

“What did you do to him?” he demanded. “Where is Bramblestar?”