“Are you all okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” Whitewing replied. “We could do with a bit more bedding—”
“And a bit more space,” Spiderleg added. “Lilypaw, take your tail out of my eye.”
“This is exciting!” Amberpaw squeaked, her eyes gleaming in the dim light.
“No, it isn’t!” Ivypool retorted. She was licking herself to dry off her pelt. “We’re cold and wet, and StarClan knows what the camp will look like in the morning.”
“Apprentices think everything is exciting,” Bumblestripe pointed out as he burrowed into the dry moss.
“Except finding Purdy’s ticks.” Seedpaw yawned.
“I just thought of something!” Dewpaw exclaimed. “We must be warriors now, because we’ve got warriors sleeping here, so this is the warriors’ den.”
“Yay! No more ticks!” Snowpaw yowled.
“In your dreams!” Spiderleg meowed.
Poppyfrost rolled her eyes. “Very funny. Now be quiet and go to sleep.”
Obediently the apprentices curled up, but Bramblestar could hear stifled snuffles of amusement, and see the glimmer of mischievous eyes peeping out over the tails that wrapped their noses. He drew back and spotted Leafpool scurrying across the clearing with a load of bedding. Jayfeather loomed up beside Bramblestar at the entrance to the apprentices’ den, a bundle of moss wedged between his chin and his chest, with another bundle in his jaws.
When he shoved his burden through the ferns that sheltered the den, Bumblestripe’s voice called out, “Thanks!” and there was an outraged squeak from Lilypaw.
“Hey! You buried me!”
As Jayfeather turned away again, Bramblestar halted him with a touch of his tail, then drew him out of earshot of the apprentices’ den. “Any more omens?” he meowed.
Jayfeather gestured with his tail to take in the whole camp. “Let’s see… wind, rain, leaking dens… What exactly are you looking for, Bramblestar? You should thank StarClan that no cats have been injured.”
Bramblestar twitched. Unpleasant as the storm was, he didn’t feel it was bad enough to be the terrible doom that Jayfeather had prophesied. Unless there’s worse to come. Maybe the lake…
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Jayfeather asked sharply.
“No,” Bramblestar replied, still unwilling to reveal the encroaching lake. “We just need to make sure our Clanmates are okay. You’d better get back to your den.”
When Jayfeather had gone, Bramblestar ran to the nursery and pushed his way in, thankful to be sheltered at last. The air inside felt still and welcoming after the chaos outside, in spite of the tang of wet fur. It was almost completely dark, but he could just make out the shapes of his Clanmates, and spotted Squirrelflight waving her tail at him.
“Over here, Bramblestar. I’ve kept a space for you.”
Bramblestar headed toward her, weaving his way with difficulty between his Clanmates, who were packed in tightly from one end of the nursery to the other.
“Hey!” Molewhisker yelped. “That’s my tail you’re treading on.”
“Sorry,” Bramblestar muttered.
Cherryfall swiped her brother across the ear. “Careful, Molewhisker. You don’t talk to our Clan leader like that!”
“It’s okay,” Bramblestar meowed. “It’s tough for all of us, squashed together like this.” He squeezed into the gap between Squirrelflight and Birchfall and wriggled into the moss, trying to get comfortable. But his pelt was still wet, and it took a while for the warmth of the nursery to penetrate through it.
Some of his Clanmates were already snoring, though the younger warriors were whispering to one another with occasional mrrows of laughter.
It’s an adventure for them, Bramblestar thought wearily. I hope it turns out to be no worse.
From somewhere at the back of the nursery he heard Purdy’s voice. “This is nothin’ compared to the storms I remember when I was a kit…”
There was something soothing about the elder’s words. Nothing will stop Purdy telling his stories! The tale rumbled on as Bramblestar closed his eyes, but sleep was a long time coming. At last he fell into a doze, haunted by dreams of rising water and drowning cats, their paws stretched out helplessly as the waves swept them away.
“Bramblestar!” The voice jerked him awake, along with icy drops spattering onto his pelt.
Bramblestar opened his eyes to see Thornclaw standing over him. The warrior’s golden-brown pelt was dripping, plastered to his sides, and he was shivering violently. The first gray light of a new day was seeping into the den, but the storm hadn’t let up. Rain thundered down onto the roof of the den, and the wind still blustered through the camp.
“Bramblestar, there’s something you need to see,” Thornclaw mewed through chattering teeth.
Careful not to disturb his sleeping Clanmates, Bramblestar followed Thornclaw into the clearing, flinching as icy rain poured down on him. The floor of the hollow was awash with leaves and twigs floating on the water, while here and there a bigger branch rocked in the current with one end wedged in the mud. Up above, gaps had opened up in the line of trees, telling Bramblestar that some of them had fallen. Part of the thorn barrier had been torn away, leaving a ragged gap where the entrance had been.
“It’s going to take a lot of work to put this right,” Bramblestar meowed with a flick of his tail.
“It gets worse,” Thornclaw warned.
He led the way right up to the thorns. Staring through the gap, Bramblestar saw water surging up the slope toward them, gray and menacing. The line of waves broke and swirled as they met swift-flowing streams that had burst their banks and now crisscrossed the forest, flattening the undergrowth.
“Great StarClan!” Bramblestar gasped. “The lake has reached the camp!”
There was a tang in the air that reminded him of the sun-drown-water; the eerie sounds of lapping waves and trees groaning sent a shiver through him from ears to tail-tip.
“We need to leave,” Thornclaw meowed urgently.
Bramblestar spun around and raced back to the center of the hollow. “Cats of ThunderClan!” he yowled. “Come out now!”
For a heartbeat no cat appeared, though he could hear startled murmurs from the dens. Then Squirrelflight rushed out of the nursery. “What’s going on?”
“Go and look beyond the thorn barrier,” Bramblestar told her.
Squirrelflight sped up to the camp entrance, then halted abruptly as she saw what was outside. When she returned her face was frozen in fear, her eyes stretched wide. But her voice was steady as she asked, “What are we going to do?”
By now, cats were spilling dazedly from their makeshift nests, staring around with a mixture of fright and anger. Bramblestar splashed his way across the hollow and climbed the rocks to the Highledge. He hoped that from up there he could make himself heard above the noise of the storm. Millie and Briarlight and the other cats who had been sheltering in his den were huddled at the top of the slope, and Bramblestar had to push his way through them.
“The lake has flooded the forest!” he yowled. “We need to leave the hollow right now!”
Screeches of disbelief came from his Clanmates. “It couldn’t have!” Rosepetal gasped. “The lake is at the bottom of the hill!”
“Not anymore,” Bramblestar meowed.
As he spoke, water began trickling through the gap in the thorns, mingling with the rainwater already there. At first it looked like nothing more than a shallow ripple, easy enough to wade through. Then there was a surge of gray-brown waves crested with yellowish foam, sloshing through the thorns. When the waves retreated, they swept most of the barrier away, leaving room for more water to rush in, deeper and swirling.