“Maybe.” Brambleclaw sighed; he really didn’t want to discuss it.
“We have a ceremony to perform,” Firestar meowed as soon as all the cats were settled. “Mousefur, are you satisfied that Spiderpaw is ready to become a warrior?”
The brown warrior dipped her head. “I am.”
Firestar ran lightly down the broken rocks until he reached the floor of the hollow, and beckoned Spiderpaw closer to him with his tail. Spiderpaw stepped forward, quivering from nose to tail.
“I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice.” Firestar’s voice rang out clearly above the sound of the wind and the gentle creak of branches on the rim of the hollow. “He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn.” He fixed his gaze on Spiderpaw and went on, “Spiderpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
“I do,” Spiderpaw replied eagerly.
“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Spiderpaw, from this moment you will be known as Spiderleg. StarClan honors your courage and your enthusiasm, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”
He took a pace forward and rested his muzzle on the top of Spiderleg’s head. The young warrior gave Firestar’s shoulder a respectful lick, then stepped back to join the other warriors.
“Spiderleg! Spiderleg!” The Clan raised their voices to greet him by his new name. Dustpelt looked ready to burst with pride, and Ferncloud’s eyes were shining with joy to see their eldest son made a warrior at last. Birchkit bounced around his brother’s paws, clearly recovered from his scare that morning.
Firestar raised his tail for silence and the noise died away, all the Clan turning curious faces toward him.
“Before we go to our duties, I have another ceremony to perform,” Firestar meowed. “Mousefur and I have been talking together, and she has come to a decision. Mousefur, are you still sure that this is what you want?”
The old she-cat dipped her head in assent as she stepped forward.
“Mousefur,” Firestar continued, “is it your wish to give up the name of warrior and go to join the elders?”
Brambleclaw thought he heard a tremor in her voice as she mewed, “It is.” He guessed it was hard for the proud warrior to accept that she was growing old; the combination of the long journey and her recent illness had proved that she was not as strong as she used to be. Sadness chilled his fur as he remembered her courage and her fighting skills.
“Your Clan honors you and all the service you have given us,” Firestar went on. “I call upon StarClan to give you many seasons of rest.” He laid his tail upon Mousefur’s shoulders and the old cat bowed her head before padding over to stand beside Longtail and Goldenflower.
“I don’t need too much rest, Firestar,” she rasped. “I’ll still keep my claws sharp, and if trouble comes I’ll be ready.”
A murmur of amusement and admiration rose from the cats around her, and one or two of them called out, “Mousefur! Mousefur!” as if they were welcoming a new warrior. Goldenflower gave her a friendly lick around the ears.
The meeting began to break up. Brambleclaw went over to congratulate Spiderleg and noticed Firestar beckoning him.
“I heard Whitepaw telling Cloudtail about that squirrel you caught this morning,” his leader meowed.
Brambleclaw’s pelt bristled. He’d deliberately avoided ShadowClan territory by taking the patrol in the opposite direction; was Firestar going to blame him for invading WindClan now? “Onewhisker said we could have that stretch of woodland,” he pointed out, trying not to let his anger show in his voice.
“I know.” Firestar’s voice was mild. “You haven’t done anything wrong. But go easy on that patch of territory just for now. We’ll sort it out eventually, but until we do I don’t want to take advantage of Onewhisker’s good nature.”
“I didn’t intend to,” Brambleclaw replied, relieved. “But it’s his responsibility to fight for WindClan’s boundaries. Or does he expect us to defend his territory as well as our own, just because we’ve been traveling together for the past moon?”
Firestar narrowed his eyes. “Don’t worry, Brambleclaw,” he meowed. “The time will come when every Clan will defend themselves with teeth and claws, and fight for their territories as fiercely as we ever did. But that time is not now.” He turned to go, then paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Get some rest, Brambleclaw,” he advised. “You’ll be coming to the Gathering tonight.”
Brambleclaw blinked, hoping his leader couldn’t see the anticipation that surged through him, making his fur stand on end. I’ll see Hawkfrost again! I can ask him about the dream! He burned with curiosity to know whether his half brother had met with Tigerstar too. Did kin share dreams? Not always—but his dream of the old camp had been so real, almost more real than finding their new home. If Tigerstar was really watching over his sons, surely he would want to visit them both?
He caught his breath, suddenly choking with guilt.
Hawkfrost belonged to a rival Clan. The fact that he and Brambleclaw were kin meant nothing compared to their loyalty to their Clanmates and their leaders. It was ridiculous to think that he and Hawkfrost might have shared a dream.
Yet as he padded across to the warriors’ den to catch a nap before leaving for the Gathering, Brambleclaw’s paws tingled with the thought that he would soon see his half brother again.
Chapter 15
The sun had gone down but the horizon still blazed with scarlet when the ThunderClan cats set out. While he was waiting for Brackenfur to go through the tunnel in the barrier of thorns, Brambleclaw realized that Squirrelflight had slipped up to his side.
“Hi, there,” she meowed. She sounded friendly but uncertain, as if she weren’t sure what his reaction would be. “Are you okay? You’ve been in a dream all day.”
Brambleclaw winced; the memory of his meeting with Tigerstar and Hawkfrost filled his mind so strongly that when he shut his eyes, he could almost feel the brush of his half brother’s fur against his flank. He longed to respond to the affection in Squirrelflight’s green gaze, but she was the last cat he could tell about his dream, given her feelings about the RiverClan warrior.
He scuffed his paws on the earth. “I didn’t sleep well last night; that’s all.”
Squirrelflight narrowed her eyes, clearly guessing there was something he wasn’t telling her. “Keep secrets if you want.” She sighed. “See if I care.”
Whisking around, she pushed through the tunnel behind Brackenfur.
“Squirrelflight, wait!” Brambleclaw raced after her, furious with himself for seeming to reject her attempt to be friends again. When he burst out at the other end of the tunnel she was padding away with Leafpaw, their heads bent close together. Though he called her name again she didn’t turn to look at him.
Sorreltail was the last of the warriors to emerge from the tunnel. Brackenfur had been waiting to check that they had all the cats who were meant to be coming to the Gathering.
As she went past, Brackenfur stretched out his muzzle to touch her ear-tip. “Hey, Sorreltail,” he murmured. “I’m glad you’re coming.”
The young tortoiseshell warrior blinked at him and let out a purr.
Firestar led his Clan uphill to the place where they could cross the stream by the stepping-stones, then followed the stream down to the lakeshore. “If we go on Gathering near the horseplace,” he meowed, “we must make sure WindClan understands we’ll have to cross their territory every full moon.”