Then Cinderpelt called “Leafpaw!” from outside, and the moment was over. Leafpaw bowed her head to her leader and left him alone, to wait for further news from StarClan about the destiny of his cats.
Chapter 9
Brambleclaw chose a plump starling from the fresh-kill pile, carrying it a few paces away before he began to gulp it down. Sunhigh was just past, and the clearing was full of cats enjoying the warmth. Brambleclaw caught a glimpse of Leafpaw padding over to the elders’ den, a wad of herbs in her jaws. He was surprised to see how unhappy she looked; perhaps she was in trouble with her mentor, though he found it hard to imagine that Cinderpelt would drive any cat to look so worried.
Closer to the nettle patch, Firestar was eating with Graystripe and Sandstorm. As Brambleclaw bit into his prey he saw his leader raise his head and give him a hard stare, as if he might be in trouble. Brambleclaw couldn’t remember anything he had done wrong that his leader knew about, but his fur prickled uneasily; surely Firestar hadn’t found out about the dreams?
He braced himself for his leader to call him over and tell him what was on his mind, but when he heard a cat speak his name it was Squirrelpaw. She snatched a mouse from the heap of fresh-kill and bounced across to sit by his side.
“Whew!” she exclaimed, dropping the mouse. “I thought I’d never finish feeding the elders. Longtail has the appetite of a starving fox!” She took a bite from her piece of prey and gulped it down. “So what’s happening?” she asked. “Have you had any more messages from StarClan?”
Brambleclaw swallowed his mouthful of starling. “Ssshhh, not so loud,” he hissed.
It was the day after his encounter with Crowpaw and his visit to ShadowClan territory, and he had still not decided how much to tell Squirrelpaw about the second dream. If he vanished on the day before the half-moon without confiding in her, he would have broken his part of their bargain, but he did not know what he would say if she demanded to come with them.
“Well, have you?” Squirrelpaw persisted, lowering her voice.
Brambleclaw chewed slowly, playing for time. He had just decided that he would have to tell the nosy she-cat something, if only to stop all her questions, when he realized that Firestar had padded over from the nettle patch and was standing over them. He stiffened, instinctively unsheathing his claws so that they sank into the breast of the starling.
“Squirrelpaw, I want you to go out with Thornclaw,” Firestar ordered. “He’s going to show Shrewpaw the best hunting places near Fourtrees.”
Squirrelpaw took another gulp of mouse and swiped her tongue over her whiskers. “Do I have to? I’ve been up there with Dustpelt loads of times.”
The tip of Firestar’s tail twitched back and forth. “Yes, you do. When your leader gives you an order, you obey it.”
Squirrelpaw rolled her eyes at Brambleclaw before picking up the last of the mouse and swallowing it.
“Now, Squirrelpaw.” Firestar’s tail twitched again.
“Thornclaw’s waiting.” He nodded toward the tabby warrior, who was padding across the clearing with Shrewpaw.
“You could at least let me finish my mouse in peace,” Squirrelpaw argued. “I’ve been on my paws all morning, chasing after the elders.”
“And so you should be!” Firestar’s voice was sharp. “That’s what being an apprentice is all about. I don’t want to hear you complaining.”
“I’m not complaining!” Squirrelpaw leaped to her paws, her fur bristling. “I only said I wanted a bit of peace and quiet to eat. Why are you always nagging at me? You’re not my mentor, so stop acting like you are. Or are you just afraid that I’ll let you down, and not live up to our great leader’s shining example?”
Without waiting for a response, she spun around and flounced off to meet Thornclaw and Shrewpaw near the entrance to the camp. Brambleclaw noticed that the tabby warrior looked surprised when Squirrelpaw spoke to him, though he was too far off to hear what she said, and it crossed his mind that Thornclaw hadn’t been expecting her to join the patrol at all. Then the warrior nodded, and all three cats vanished into the gorse tunnel.
Firestar watched Squirrelpaw go with a grim look. He didn’t say a word to Brambleclaw, but turned and padded back to Sandstorm and Graystripe.
Brambleclaw heard Sandstorm growl, “You know that’s the wrong way to handle her. If you order her about, she’ll just get more stubborn.”
Firestar replied in a low voice that Brambleclaw couldn’t catch; then the cats got up and headed toward Firestar’s den.
What was all that about? Brambleclaw wondered. Firestar was annoyed with Squirrelpaw, so he made up an excuse to get her out of the camp. His blood ran chill. To get her away from me, maybe?
If he was right, there could only be one reason. Squirrelpaw must have told her father about the first dream, and the meeting with the other cats at Fourtrees. She might have done it deliberately, or she might have let something slip because she wasn’t thinking. Whatever had happened, Brambleclaw knew there would be more trouble to come, but at least it meant he didn’t have to tell her about the second dream; she had obviously broken the agreement they had made at Fourtrees.
Trying to put his fears about what Firestar might do next out of his mind, he went back to the fresh-kill pile. If he was going to set off on a long journey in a few days’ time, it would be a good idea to eat more and build up his strength. He would also ask Cinderpelt about the traveling herbs that cats ate to give them strength for the journey to Highstones, as long as he could think of a way to do it without arousing the medicine cat’s suspicions.
He was just reaching down to pick up a juicy-looking vole when he heard a voice behind him. “Hey—what do you think you’re doing?”
It was Mousefur. Brambleclaw looked around to see the brown she-cat glaring at him from a few foxlengths away.
“I’ve been watching you,” she went on. “You’ve already eaten. You haven’t hunted enough today to take any more prey.”
Embarrassment flooded over Brambleclaw. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“So I should think,” Mousefur snapped.
Cloudtail, who was standing beside her, let out an amused purr. “He’s trying to compete with Graystripe,” he teased.
“Looks like one big eater isn’t enough for ThunderClan.
Never mind, Brambleclaw. Do you want to hunt with me and Brightheart? We’ll catch as many voles as you can eat, and double the fresh-kill pile.”
“Er, thanks,” Brambleclaw stammered.
“Hang on, I’ll just fetch Brightheart.” Cloudtail raced over to the warriors’ den, and Mousefur, with a last glare at Brambleclaw, followed him.
While Brambleclaw waited for his friends to reappear, he decided to suggest going up to Fourtrees, where they might come across Thornclaw’s patrol. He needed to get hold of Squirrelpaw and find out exactly what she had told her father.
If Firestar knew that StarClan had chosen four cats, each from a different Clan, would he try to warn the other leaders, and put a stop to their journey before it even started?
But Brambleclaw’s patrol saw nothing of Squirrelpaw and the others while they were out, and by the time he returned to camp with Cloudtail and Brightheart, with plenty of prey to add to the pile, night was falling. Most of the cats were already heading for their dens. Brambleclaw kept watch until the evening patrol had left and the moon had appeared above the trees, but he still did not see Squirrelpaw. He slept badly that night, worried about the prophecy and Squirrelpaw’s unwanted involvement.
The next morning he pushed his way out of the warriors’ den as soon as he woke, determined to find the ginger apprentice and get some answers to his questions. But it seemed as if StarClan itself were against him, making him hiss out loud with frustration. No sooner had he set paw in the clearing than Graystripe called him to join the dawn patrol with Sorreltail and Rainwhisker. By the time they returned, after a circuit of the whole territory, it was almost sunhigh. When Brambleclaw checked the apprentices’ den it was empty, and as he could not see Dustpelt in the camp either, he assumed that Squirrelpaw had gone out training with her mentor.