“Lilypaw!”
“Seedpaw!”
“Amberpaw!”
“Snowpaw!”
“Dewpaw!”
As their names were yowled to the star-filled sky, the five young cats sat up straight, their eyes burning with pride. Bramblestar jumped as wind rattled the branches above him, and the Great Oak creaked in the cold blast. A scrap of cloud drifted across the moon, briefly dimming the silver light that bathed the island.
“The Gathering is over!” Onestar called out.
The cats on the ground began to break up into smaller groups. As he leaped down from the tree, Bramblestar spotted Squirrelflight staring at Tigerheart and Ratscar from ShadowClan, who were chatting with Cherryfall and Ivypool.
“You look like a hawk sizing up its prey,” he meowed as he slipped through the crowd of cats to Squirrelflight’s side. “Tigerheart and Ratscar are just being friendly.”
“There are some cats I’ll never be able to trust again,” Squirrelflight growled.
“They’re not your Clanmates; you don’t have to trust them,” Bramblestar murmured. “But you can’t make them enemies because of a mistake they made in the past.”
Squirrelflight let out a snort. “I bet I can.”
Bramblestar didn’t bother to argue. He knew it would take a long time for his deputy to put aside her mistrust of any cat who had been led astray by the warriors of the Dark Forest. He struggled himself with the knowledge of what a few of his Clanmates had done. Some wounds are slow to heal. Instead he looked around for his sister Tawnypelt, and spotted her squeezing through a group of her Clanmates as she made her way toward him.
“Hi,” she purred, touching noses with him. “It’s good to see you, Bramblestar.”
“And you,” Bramblestar replied. “Rowanclaw did a brilliant job with Blackstar.”
Tawnypelt’s purr deepened. “I know. Rowanclaw is great.”
“And he’ll make a good leader,” Bramblestar went on. “It can’t be long now…”
Instantly Tawnypelt’s neck fur bristled. “Are you suggesting that Blackstar is too old to lead us?” she growled. “Because you’re wrong! Blackstar is fine.”
“Okay, okay!” Bramblestar took a pace back. “Keep your pelt on!”
Tawnypelt lashed her tail once, then pressed her muzzle into her brother’s shoulder. “Take care, you stupid furball,” she meowed as she turned to rejoin her Clanmates.
Bramblestar noticed that Tigerheart was still talking to Ivypool, though Cherryfall and Ratscar had moved on. Faintly curious, he eased his way into earshot.
“Where’s Dovewing?” Tigerheart was asking.
Ivypool had a guarded look, and her tone was distant as she replied. “She’s in the camp.”
“With Bumblestripe?” Tigerheart glanced around as if he was looking for the pale gray tom.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Ivypool retorted.
Bramblestar wondered why Tigerheart would want to see Dovewing. Cats in other Clans never learned about the Three’s special powers, so it can’t be that he wants her to see something far away.
The tiny incident reminded Bramblestar that the Clans needed to live separately now. He would always be proud of the cats for coming together to fight against the Dark Forest. I’m honored to have fought alongside them, but that time has passed. We need to reinforce the borders of our territories, and the boundaries that we can’t see, the ones between cat and cat.
On his way across the clearing he paused to chat with Pouncetail, a RiverClan elder, who began telling him a long, complicated story about catching fish. Maybe I should introduce him to Purdy, Bramblestar thought. He was distracted from the tale by a sharp prod in his side, and turned to see Squirrelflight.
“You need to give the signal to leave,” she hissed. “WindClan and ShadowClan have already gone.”
Embarrassment stabbed through Bramblestar. I forgot that’s my job now!
“You’re the leader now,” Pouncetail teased him gently. “You have to make all the hard decisions. You’re lucky to have Squirrelflight to keep you in line!”
“I certainly am,” Bramblestar agreed. Watching Squirrelflight as she began efficiently rounding up their Clanmates, he added to himself, I’d be lost without her as my deputy.
Bramblestar returned to camp with the dawn patrol just as the sun burned off the last of the early mist. It’s going to be another warm day, he thought.
As he emerged from the thorns, Bramblestar was surprised to see Daisy pacing nervously in front of the nursery. As soon as she spotted him she came bounding over.
“Bramblestar, I’m so worried!” she burst out.
“What’s the matter?” Bramblestar asked, resting his tail on the she-cat’s shoulder.
“It’s Smoky and Floss at the horseplace,” Daisy replied. “I think Smoky was waiting for us when we were going to the Gathering, but he was too scared to come and talk to us.”
Bramblestar wasn’t convinced. “He might just have been watching—”
“No, why would he?” Daisy interrupted, working her paws anxiously into the earth. “Those cats stay out of the way of the Clans. Please, Bramblestar, let me go to the horseplace and make sure everything’s okay.”
Bramblestar hesitated for a moment, gazing into Daisy’s eyes and seeing her fear for her friends. “Okay, but I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to!” Daisy meowed. “You’re the leader of ThunderClan. You must have more important things to do.”
“This might be important too,” Bramblestar insisted. “We’ll go together, after sunhigh.”
Daisy let out a long purr, blinking up at him gratefully. “Thank you, Bramblestar.”
As she headed back to the nursery, Graystripe joined Bramblestar.
“What did Daisy want?” the gray warrior meowed. He looked surprised when Bramblestar explained. “She wants to go back to the horseplace? Do you think she’s considering leaving ThunderClan?” He puffed out a brief sigh. “Maybe the Great Battle scared her too much.”
“That was several moons ago,” Bramblestar pointed out. “If Daisy was scared, she would have left right away.”
“Then maybe it’s because the nursery is empty,” Graystripe suggested, flicking his tail toward the deserted bramble-covered den. “Maybe Daisy feels there’s no place for her here anymore, with no queens or kits to care for.”
Bramblestar dug his claws into the ground. Why is every cat always talking about kits? “Wait until newleaf,” he meowed. “The nursery will fill up then.” He cast a hopeful glance at Millie, who was eating a sparrow beside the fresh-kill pile. “I don’t suppose…?”
Graystripe shook his head. “Our days of having kits are gone,” he replied, sounding amused. “There are plenty of young cats around to do that duty.”
But none of the she-cats are expecting kits, Bramblestar thought bleakly.
Sunhigh was just past when Bramblestar and Daisy set out toward the edge of the lake. Before they were halfway down the slope to the lake, Bramblestar noticed that Daisy was limping. Her paws are sore after the long walk to the Gathering, he thought. She’s not used to traveling far outside the hollow.