Firestar’s green eyes were thoughtful. “There could be other explanations…”
“Name one!” Mistyfoot snapped. “Every cat knows that Mudclaw was furious when Tallstar chose Onewhisker to succeed him. Do you really think he wouldn’t do anything about it?”
“Wait!” Brackenfur leaped to his paws. “Now that Leafpool has found the Moonpool, Onewhisker will soon receive his nine lives from StarClan. Mudclaw has to attack before then, if he wants to take over the Clan.”
“That means he’ll strike tonight,” Brambleclaw mewed hoarsely.
“Firestar, you have to do something!” Mistyfoot urged.
Firestar’s claws scraped the earth. “Why me? Why not go to your own leader?”
“Leopardstar would just suspect me of trying to make trouble for Hawkfrost. And she would never do anything to help WindClan. But Onewhisker’s your friend…”
“He’s still a Clan leader, and responsible for the safety of his own Clan. He can’t expect ThunderClan to come to the rescue every time there’s trouble.” Firestar stared down at his feet as his claws sank into the ground. Then he looked up.
“But you’re right. We can’t just sit by and do nothing. We’ll send a patrol to the WindClan camp to see what’s going on.
And I’d better call a meeting to warn the rest of the Clan.”
“Is that necessary?” Brambleclaw protested.
Firestar gave him a long look. “We don’t know for certain that they’re not planning to attack us. I hope as much as any cat that we’re wrong, but it’s a risk we can’t afford to take.”
Springing up, he raced across the hollow and up the tumble of broken rock to the Highledge. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join for a Clan meeting,” he yowled.
Cloudtail, Brightheart, and Sorreltail emerged from the warriors’ den. The elders joined them after a moment, Goldenflower leading Longtail. Cinderpelt appeared from her den with Leafpool just behind her; the young tabby was looking wide-eyed with alarm.
Squirrelflight, Ashfur, and Thornclaw paused as they entered the camp with fresh-kill, then dropped their prey on the pile and raced across to join the others.
“Cats of ThunderClan,” Firestar began. “Mistyfoot has brought news that suggests Mudclaw and Hawkfrost are planning to attack WindClan. I’m going to take a patrol over to the WindClan camp, but I want every cat alert in case they come here. It’s likely that ShadowClan is involved as well.”
Shocked murmurs rose from the listening cats.
Brambleclaw stared at his paws as he felt his Clanmates looking at him and whispering, linking him to Hawkfrost over and over because they shared the same father. He could not bring himself to look at Squirrelflight for fear of seeing contempt in her eyes.
“Cloudtail, you and Brightheart are in charge of the camp,” Firestar went on. “Thornclaw, take two cats and keep watch on the ShadowClan border. If you spot any of their warriors, track them, but don’t attack if you’re badly outnumbered.”
Thornclaw nodded and beckoned to Squirrelflight and Ashfur. Firestar prepared to leap down from the ledge, but before he could move, Cinderpelt stepped forward.
“Firestar, there’s something you ought to know. Leafpool told me about a dream she had. It might have something to do with this.”
“Okay.” Firestar motioned his daughter forward. “Tell us, Leafpool.”
“I saw the lake turn red, and heard a voice,” the young she-cat explained. “It said, ‘Before there is peace, blood will spill blood, and the lake will run red.’”
“That’s all?” Firestar prompted. “Nothing to tell you whose blood, or when?”
Leafpool shook her head.
“It’s enough to suggest big trouble is coming,” Cinderpelt meowed. “I’d take this attack seriously if I were you. It’s Mudclaw’s last chance to seize control of WindClan, while Onewhisker still has only one life.”
“Right.” Firestar jumped down. “Let’s go.”
Brambleclaw followed his leader past Thornclaw, who was organizing his smaller patrol. He couldn’t resist glancing sideways at Squirrelflight. He had expected her to look triumphant now that it looked like she had been right all along about Hawkfrost. Instead he saw pity in her eyes.
Her sad look stayed with him all the way as Firestar cut through the trees and raced for the WindClan border.
Chapter 21
Night was falling as the ThunderClan cats crossed the stream and entered WindClan territory. Out of the shelter of the trees, a stiff wind was blowing with an icy sting of rain. Now and then the moon or a star shone fitfully between rags of cloud, but for most of the time thick darkness covered the moor.
The cats had to find their way by scent alone, barely able to see their own paws.
“There’s no sign of a border patrol,” Dustpelt whispered, sniffing.
“That could mean they’re defending the camp,” Mistyfoot replied.
“Shh!” Firestar’s low hiss came out of the darkness. “Stay alert. We don’t know what we’re getting into.”
Soon they reached the stream that flowed down from the WindClan camp. Firestar followed it for a while, then halted to taste the air. Brambleclaw did the same; a strong scent of WindClan cats came from up ahead, but none of the other Clan scents. There was no sound of fighting cats, just the buffeting of the wind and the gurgling stream. A faint hope began to grow inside Brambleclaw that Mistyfoot had made a mistake.
“Nothing,” Firestar murmured when the silence had stretched out for many heartbeats.
“We could go and ask Onewhisker if everything’s okay,” Brackenfur suggested.
“What? Stroll into his camp and tell him we came to fight off his enemies?” Dustpelt meowed. “I don’t think so.”
Sandstorm murmured agreement, and after a moment’s thought Firestar echoed it. “You’re right. The best thing we can do is go home.”
“But something’s wrong; I’m sure of it,” Mistyfoot protested. Her eyes gleamed with anxiety. “What about Leafpool’s dream?”
“We’ve no idea what Leafpool’s dream means,” Firestar pointed out. “Meanwhile, we’re here in fighting strength on another Clan’s territory. Onewhisker would be well within his rights if he ripped our fur off.”
Dustpelt snorted. “I’d like to see him try.”
The wind was rising, and a sudden gust almost carried Brambleclaw off his paws. In the distance he heard a faint rumble of thunder. “Let’s get back before the storm breaks,” Firestar mewed.
All the cats turned to follow him. Bringing up the rear, Brambleclaw cast one last glance toward the WindClan camp, and froze as a wisp of scent drifted between his parted jaws.
Hawkfrost!
“Firestar, wait!” he rasped.
Gazing up the hill, he saw several dark shapes flow over the rise from the opposite direction and launch themselves down into the hollow. For a heartbeat he thought he recognized the outline of Hawkfrost’s broad head and powerful shoulders at the head of the cats.
A single screech split the night. Firestar whipped around and raced back up the hill. “Come on!”
Brambleclaw was shoulder-to-shoulder with him as they reached the edge of the hollow. More screeches split the night; in the darkness, Brambleclaw could make out nothing more than a caterwauling tangle of fur. He could scent RiverClan and ShadowClan as well as WindClan, but he couldn’t recognize individuals or work out which cats he should be attacking.
He heard Firestar yowl, “Mudclaw!” as his leader hurtled down the slope into the camp. Brambleclaw and the rest of the ThunderClan patrol raced after him. A moment later Brambleclaw lost sight of his Clanmates as he plunged into the struggling mass. Before he had a chance to get his breath, a cat crashed into his side, knocking him off his paws. He twisted around and found himself glaring up into the eyes of Cedarheart from ShadowClan.