In two nights’ time he was supposed to leave on his journey with the cats from the other Clans to find the sun-drown place, and see what midnight told them. How could he possibly go, Brambleclaw wondered despairingly, when Firestar was watching him so closely? A chill ran through him from ears to tail-tip as he realized that to be loyal to the prophecy and to StarClan, he might have to be disloyal to his leader.
Chapter 10
Brambleclaw scarcely slept that night, and when he did, his dreams were full of Firestar’s anger, and images of his leader driving him away from the camp. When he pushed his way out of the warriors’ den the next morning, he still felt exhausted—even more so when he reflected that this was his last day in camp before his journey would begin.
A gray dawn light was filtering through the camp, and the wind was chilly. Tasting the air, Brambleclaw thought he could make out the first scent of approaching leaf-fall. Change was on the way, he realized, whatever he and the other chosen cats tried to do.
Throughout the day he did not even bother trying to speak to Squirrelpaw. Though Firestar had not ordered them to stay apart, he obviously didn’t like them to be together. There was no point in deliberately looking for trouble. Brambleclaw caught a glimpse of the young apprentice leaving the camp with Dustpelt; she looked oddly subdued, with her tail trailing against the earth and her ears flat.
“You look as if you’ve lost a rabbit and found a shrew,” a brisk voice spoke beside him.
Brambleclaw looked up; it was Mousefur.
“Do you want to come hunting with me and Spiderpaw?” the she-cat meowed.
For once Brambleclaw felt he hardly had the energy for hunting or anything else. With his journey due to start the next day, worries were crowding around him like cats at a Gathering.
Was he really meant to lead four other cats out into the unknown, to face dangers they could not even imagine?
Mousefur was still waiting for Brambleclaw to answer. He couldn’t help wondering if her suggestion of hunting together was another of Firestar’s orders to keep him busy.
But the brown she-cat blinked at him in a friendly way, and he realized that he would be better off hunting than hanging about the camp worrying. Perhaps if he brought back plenty of prey he would start to regain Firestar’s good opinion.
But the hunt didn’t go well. Spiderpaw was too easily distracted, as playful as a kit on its first outing. Once, as he was creeping up on a mouse, a leaf spiraled down past his nose, and he lifted one paw to bat at it. Startled by the clumsy movement, the mouse vanished under a root.
“Honestly!” Mousefur sighed. “Do you expect the prey to come and jump into your mouth?”
“Sorry,” Spiderpaw mewed, looking abashed.
He made more of an effort after that. When the patrol came upon a squirrel nibbling an acorn in the middle of a clearing, Spiderpaw began stalking it, moving each long black leg stealthily. He was almost ready to pounce when the wind changed and carried his scent to his prey. The squirrel started, tail flicking up, and bounded toward the edge of the clearing.
“Bad luck!” Brambleclaw called.
Instead of answering, Spiderpaw raced after the squirrel and disappeared into the undergrowth.
“Hey!” Mousefur shouted after him. “You’ll never catch a squirrel like that.” Spiderpaw did not reappear, and his mentor bared her teeth in a resigned growl. “One day he’ll learn.”
She padded off into the undergrowth to find him.
Left to himself, Brambleclaw stood still, listening for the sound of prey. There was a faint rustling in the leaves under the nearest tree. A mouse appeared, scuffling after seeds.
Brambleclaw dropped into a hunting crouch and crept up on it, trying to make his paws float over the ground. Then he sprang, and killed his prey with one swift snap.
He scraped earth over it so that he could collect it later, half wishing that Mousefur had been there to see his success. At least she could have told Firestar that he was still hunting well for his Clan—whatever the leader’s complaint was, it couldn’t be about that. Listening for more prey, promising himself one last good hunt before he left, he pricked up his ears instead at the sound of something bigger rustling among the bushes a little way off, in the opposite direction from where Spiderpaw and Mousefur had disappeared. Brambleclaw drew the air into his mouth, but could scent nothing except ThunderClan cats.
He began to pad forward, only to quicken his pace as the rustling grew louder and was followed by a furious yowl. He ran around the edge of a bramble thicket and stopped dead.
There was a gorse bush in front of him, and Squirrelpaw was struggling madly among its thick, spiky branches. Her front paws were off the ground and her fur was tangled in the thorns. Brambleclaw couldn’t suppress a mrrow of laughter.
“Having fun?”
Instantly Squirrelpaw’s head whipped around and her green eyes flashed fury at him. “That’s right, have a good laugh, you stupid furball!” she snapped. “Then maybe you’ll have time to get me out of here!”
She sounded so much like the old Squirrelpaw rather than the dejected creature that had left the camp that morning that Brambleclaw felt better at once. Tail waving, he strolled toward her. “How did you manage to get so stuck?”
“I was chasing a vole.” Squirrelpaw sounded exasperated.
“Dappletail said she fancied one, so I thought I’d better oblige, seeing that Firestar seems to want me to feed the elders, like, forever. It ran under here, and I thought there was room for me to run after it.”
“There isn’t,” Brambleclaw pointed out helpfully.
“I know that now, mouse-brain! Do something!”
“Keep still, then.” Approaching the bush, Brambleclaw saw where the worst tangles were, and began to tease out her fur, carefully using his teeth and claws. Some of the thorns pierced his nose, making his eyes water, but he kept on without complaining.
“Hang on,” Squirrelpaw muttered after a while. “I think I’m loose.”
Brambleclaw jumped out of the way as the apprentice plunged forward, forepaws scrabbling the earth as she dragged her hindquarters clear of the branches. A moment later she was free, shaking herself irritably while she stared at the tufts of ginger fur she had left behind.
“Thanks, Brambleclaw,” she meowed.
“Are you hurt at all?” he asked. “Maybe you ought to let Cinderpelt have a look at—”
“Squirrelpaw!”
Brambleclaw froze and his heart sank. He slowly turned around to see Firestar stalking toward them.
The Clan leader had an expression like ice in his eyes as he looked from Brambleclaw to his daughter and back again. “Is this how you obey orders?” he growled.
The unfairness of Firestar’s attitude took Brambleclaw’s breath away. For a couple of heartbeats he couldn’t find words to answer, and when he did he knew he sounded guilty.
“I’m not disobeying orders, Firestar.”
“Oh? I’m sorry.” Firestar’s voice was as dry as a sun-scorched rock. “I thought you were supposed to be on a hunting patrol, but I must have heard wrong.”
“I am on a hunting patrol,” Brambleclaw mewed desperately.
Firestar made a great show of looking around. “I don’t see Mousefur or Spiderpaw.”
“Spiderpaw went off after a squirrel.” Brambleclaw pointed with his tail. “Mousefur went after him.”
“Why are you being so horrible?” Squirrelpaw interrupted, glaring at her father. “Brambleclaw isn’t doing anything wrong.”