“Brambleclaw isn’t doing what he was told,” Firestar growled. “That isn’t the warrior code as I was taught it.”
Squirrelpaw sprang forward to stand nose-to-nose with her father and lifted her voice in a yowl of pure fury. “I was stuck in the bush! Brambleclaw helped me! It’s not his fault!”
“Be quiet,” Firestar rasped. Brambleclaw was struck by how much alike father and daughter looked: green eyes flashing, ginger pelts bristling angrily. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“It looks like it has,” Squirrelpaw argued. “You growl at Brambleclaw every time he so much as glances at me—”
“Silence!” Firestar hissed.
Brambleclaw stared in alarm. Just at that moment, Graystripe thrust his way into the clearing, a vole clamped in his jaws.
“Firestar?” he meowed, dropping his prey. “What’s going on?”
Firestar lashed his tail, then straightened up with an impatient shake of his head. Brambleclaw forced himself to relax the fur on his neck.
“Oh, right.” Graystripe’s amber eyes glowed with understanding as he looked at the other cats in the clearing, and Brambleclaw realized that whatever was making Firestar act like this, his deputy knew all about it. “Come on, Firestar,” he went on, padding up to the Clan leader and giving him a nudge. “These two aren’t doing any harm.”
“And not much good, either,” Firestar retorted. He faced the two younger cats. “My decisions, and the orders I give, are for the good of the whole Clan,” he reminded them. “If you can’t understand that, then maybe you aren’t fit to be warriors.”
“What?” Squirrelpaw’s jaws opened on a howl of outrage, but a furious hiss from her father silenced her.
Brambleclaw was too bewildered even to try protesting.
Something—some knowledge Firestar and Graystripe shared—had turned Firestar against him. If Squirrelpaw hadn’t told her father about the dream, then it had to be something else. But he had no idea what it could be, or what he could do about it.
“You,” Firestar went on crisply, flicking his tail at Squirrelpaw, “take that vole of Graystripe’s to the elders, and then carry on hunting for them. You”—with a flick at Brambleclaw—“find Mousefur and see if you can possibly bring back some fresh-kill before dark. Do it now.”
Without waiting to see if his orders were obeyed, he whipped around and stalked off through the bushes.
Graystripe paused before following him. “He’s got a lot on his mind,” he murmured apologetically. “Don’t take it too much to heart. Everything will work out okay; you’ll see.”
A yowl of “Graystripe!” came from the direction where Firestar had disappeared. Graystripe twitched his ears, nodded farewell to the two younger cats, and hurried after his leader.
Squirrelpaw stared after them. Now that Firestar had gone and she no longer had to go on defying him, her tail drooped, and the gaze she turned on Brambleclaw was full of distress.
“I can’t do anything right,” she meowed. “You heard what he said. He thinks I’m not fit to be a warrior. He’ll never give me my warrior name.”
Brambleclaw did not know what to say. His bewilderment was melting into a slow, furious anger. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. Whatever was making Firestar behave like this, it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t Squirrelpaw’s, either. She could be annoying, but she was a loyal and hardworking apprentice. Any leader worth a couple of mousetails could see what a great warrior she would make.
He glared down at the ground, and when Squirrelpaw spoke his name he scarcely heard her. He felt his mind clearing, like a gray sky when the wind tore the clouds away and the sun shone through. The day before, after the confrontation behind the nursery, he had felt torn between the demands of the prophecy and loyalty to Firestar. Now he looked ahead to see day after day of struggling to please his leader with no chance of success, because he did not know why Firestar was angry with him in the first place. There was only one solution.
He must leave on the journey with only the word of StarClan to guide him, and not come back until he had discovered answers that would prove to Firestar how loyal he had been all along. Or else he would not come back at all.
“Go on,” Brambleclaw meowed roughly, nodding toward the dropped vole. “Take that back, or he’ll have another go at you.”
“What about you?” Squirrelpaw, usually so bright and confident, sounded nervous.
“I…” He had been about to lie to her, and tell her that he was going to look for Mousefur. Then he realized how deeply betrayed she would feel when he didn’t come back. After all, they were in this together, at least as far as Firestar’s hostility was concerned. “I’m leaving,” he told her.
“Leaving?” Squirrelpaw echoed in dismay. “Leaving ThunderClan?”
“Not leaving for good,” Brambleclaw put in quickly.
“Squirrelpaw, listen…”
She sat in front of him, and her wide green eyes never left his face as he told her about the second dream, of drowning in endless salty water and being swept toward the cave with teeth.
“Ravenpaw says it’s a real place,” he explained. “I think StarClan are telling me to go there, and the other cats agree.
We’re starting at sunrise tomorrow.”
The hurt in Squirrelpaw’s eyes was clear. “You told them and not me?” she wailed. “Brambleclaw, you promised!”
“I know.” Brambleclaw felt guilt gnawing at him. “I was going to, and then all this trouble with Firestar started—StarClan know why, and if they do, they’re telling me even less about it than they’ve told me about the prophecy.”
“And you’re really going all that way? But you don’t even know how far it is.”
“None of us do,” Brambleclaw admitted. “But Ravenpaw has spoken to cats who have seen the place, so it must be possible to get there. I’m not coming back to the camp,” he added. “I’ll spend the night somewhere in the forest, and meet the others at Fourtrees in the morning. Please, Squirrelpaw, don’t give us away. Don’t tell any cat where we’ve gone.”
As he spoke, Squirrelpaw’s eyes brightened until they were gleaming with excitement. Brambleclaw knew what she was going to say a heartbeat before she said it.
“I won’t breathe a word to any cat,” she promised. “I can’t, because I’m coming with you.”
“Oh, no, you’re not!” Brambleclaw retorted. “You’re not one of the chosen cats. You’re not even a warrior yet.”
“Crowpaw isn’t a warrior,” Squirrelpaw flashed back at him. “And I’d bet a moon of dawn patrols Stormfur is coming. He’d never let Feathertail go without him. So why do I have to be left out?” She hesitated, and then added, “I didn’t tell any cat about the first dream, Brambleclaw. I never said a word. Not even to Leafpaw.”
Brambleclaw knew that was true. If Squirrelpaw had dropped even a hint, it would have been all around the camp by now.
“I didn’t promise you could come,” he reminded her. “I promised to tell you, and I’ve done that.”
“But you can’t leave me behind,” Squirrelpaw cried. “If I don’t know what happens next, my fur will fall out from wondering!”
“It’s just too dangerous, Squirrelpaw; can’t you see that?
The prophecy is a heavy enough weight for me to bear, without having to look after you as well.”
“Look after me!” Squirrelpaw’s eyes blazed indignantly. “I can look after myself, thank you. I’m coming, whether you like it or not. If you won’t let me come with you, I’ll follow you. Think about what happened today. I don’t want to go back to camp and be told off for nothing, over and over again, any more than you do!”