He took a nap in the heat of the day, his worries soothed for a short while by the quiet murmur of bees and the sigh of wind in the branches, and woke to catch sight of Squirrelpaw disappearing into the gorse tunnel, a wad of old bedding clamped in her jaws. Springing to his paws, he was about to follow her when a cat called his name.
Brackenfur was padding toward him with his apprentice, Whitepaw. For some reason the golden brown tom looked uneasy. “Hi, Brambleclaw. I… I thought you might like to come and watch a training session,” he meowed.
Brambleclaw stared at him in surprise. Warriors hardly ever watched the apprentices training, unless they were mentors themselves. With a swift glance at the tunnel where Squirrelpaw was now out of sight, he replied, “Er… thanks, Brackenfur, but some other time, okay?”
He headed quickly toward the camp entrance, but realized after a couple of heartbeats that Brackenfur was keeping pace with him.
“It’s just that Firestar thought it might be good practice for you,” the older warrior explained. “For when you have an apprentice of your own.”
Brambleclaw halted. “Let me get this straight,” he meowed. “Firestar asked you to tell me to watch you and Whitepaw training?”
Brackenfur’s gaze slid past him and he looked acutely embarrassed. “That’s right,” he mewed.
“But we never do that,” Brambleclaw protested. “Anyway, it’ll be moons before Ferncloud’s kits are ready for mentors.”
Brackenfur shrugged. “An order’s an order, Brambleclaw.”
Brambleclaw blinked. “It’s an order?” He shook his head crossly. It wasn’t StarClan that was against him—it was his own leader. And it was hardly surprising, if Squirrelpaw had told Firestar that one of his warriors had been having prophetic dreams without telling the rest of the Clan.
Fuming, he followed Brackenfur and his apprentice out of the camp and along the ravine to the sandy hollow where the training sessions took place. He sat on the edge, watching Brackenfur put Whitepaw through her fighting moves. A little later, Mousefur arrived with Spiderpaw, and the two apprentices started a mock battle. Brambleclaw watched as Whitepaw darted in to give Spiderpaw a quick nip in the neck; Spiderpaw spun around at once, his long black limbs whirling as he leaped on her and pinned her to the ground.
They were both making good progress, Brambleclaw noticed idly, yawning with boredom.
I could be doing something useful, he thought miserably. There were only two days to go before he was due to meet the other cats at Fourtrees and set out on their journey. He needed to talk to Squirrelpaw soon.
When Mousefur called a halt and the two apprentices climbed out of the hollow, shaking sand from their fur, Brambleclaw returned to camp even more determined to find Squirrelpaw and get some answers. To his relief, when he emerged from the gorse tunnel he spotted her with Shrewpaw beside the apprentices’ den.
Racing across the clearing, he halted in front of her and demanded, “I want to talk to you.”
He knew that issuing orders was not the way to handle Squirrelpaw. Ready for her to snarl or spit, he was surprised when she mewed in a hurried, low voice, with an uneasy glance at Shrewpaw, “Okay, but not here. Meet me behind the nursery.”
Brambleclaw nodded and padded away to greet Sootfur and Ashfur, who were returning with fresh-kill. He paused at the entrance to the nursery where Ferncloud was watching her kits play, forcing himself to sound normal as he commented on how strong and healthy they were growing.
Finally he made his way behind the nursery, a sandy area bounded by nettles where the cats went to make their dirt.
Squirrelpaw was already waiting for him, her dark ginger fur almost hidden in the shadows. “Brambleclaw, I—”
“You’ve told your father something, haven’t you?”
Brambleclaw interrupted. “After you promised to keep your mouth shut.”
Squirrelpaw straightened up to face him, her neck fur bristling furiously. “I have not! I haven’t said a word to any cat.”
“Then why is Firestar so determined to keep us apart?”
“Oh, you’ve noticed too, have you?” Squirrelpaw tried to sound calm, but her voice rose to a wail as she went on, “I don’t know! I promise I didn’t tell him anything. But he looks at me like I’ve done something bad, and I haven’t.”
Suddenly feeling sorry for the confused, unhappy she-cat, Brambleclaw padded up to her to press his muzzle against her side, but she whisked away from him, her teeth bared in the beginnings of a snarl.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle. Leafpaw’s upset, too,” she added. “She hasn’t said anything, but I can tell.”
Brambleclaw sat down and stared across the nettles to the thorn hedge around the camp, without really seeing it. He couldn’t make any sense of Firestar’s behavior if Squirrelpaw was telling the truth about keeping quiet. Brambleclaw couldn’t bring himself to think that she was lying to him, which meant there had to be another reason Firestar was angry with them both. But what on earth could it be?
“Perhaps we should ask him?” he suggested. “If he told us what the matter is, we might be able to put it right.”
Squirrelpaw looked doubtful, but before she could reply Brambleclaw heard the sound of more cats pushing their way through the nettles. Springing to his paws, he whipped around to see Firestar himself, with Graystripe just behind.
“So.” The ThunderClan leader stepped forward until he stood between his daughter and Brambleclaw. “Shrewpaw said I’d find you here.”
“We weren’t doing anything wrong!” Squirrelpaw blurted out.
“But I wonder what you think you are doing.” Firestar gave his daughter a hard stare and then transferred it to Brambleclaw. “Wasting your time, for one thing, when there’s work to be done.”
“We’ve worked hard all day, Firestar,” Brambleclaw meowed, ducking his head respectfully.
“That’s true, Firestar, they have,” Graystripe put in.
Firestar shot him a quick glance, but did not respond.
“Does that mean you think there’s nothing more to do?” he asked Brambleclaw. The younger warrior opened his mouth to protest, but his leader did not give him the chance. “If you’re so sure,” he went on, “then take a look at the elders.
Frostfur got burrs tangled in her pelt today. You can help her get them out.”
Anger flared inside Brambleclaw. That was an apprentice task! But he could see from Firestar’s cold green gaze that there was no point in arguing. He mumbled, “Yes, Firestar,” and padded away toward the main clearing.
Once the nettles had rustled back into place, screening him from the little group of cats, he paused to hear Firestar speaking to Squirrelpaw, still in that same hard, displeased tone. “Squirrelpaw, you must have better things to do than hang about with an inexperienced warrior like Brambleclaw.
Stay with your own mentor in the future.”
Brambleclaw couldn’t hear Squirrelpaw’s response, and it wasn’t safe to stay there listening any longer. Sadness flooded over him as he made his way to the elders’ den. Somehow he had lost his leader’s respect, and if Squirrelpaw really hadn’t told her father about the dream and the meeting with the other cats at Fourtrees, he couldn’t imagine why.