In the crowd, Scorchfur lifted his muzzle uncertainly. “We should think before we act.”
Agreement rippled through the crowd.
“It’s an important decision,” Hootwhisker agreed. “We should discuss it first.”
Mistystar padded to Bramblestar’s side. “They’re right,” she mewed. “Let’s return to our camps and talk about the best way forward. This Gathering is at an end.”
As she spoke, the crowd shifted and began to break up. The taut knot of gathered cats unraveled as they turned away from the Great Oak and began to head toward the long grass. Tigerstar jumped from the branch and hurried toward Dovewing, pressing against her protectively when he reached her. Leafstar slithered down the trunk and padded quickly toward her Clanmates.
In the oak, Bramblestar was still glaring at Mistystar. “Am I the only cat trying to do as StarClan wishes?” Indignation shone in his eyes.
“We all want to do as StarClan wishes,” she answered evenly.
Harestar padded to the RiverClan leader’s side. “You can’t just bully every cat into agreeing with you.”
“I was the last one of us to see StarClan,” Bramblestar snapped. “I lost a life, don’t forget. I speak for StarClan more than any cat here.”
Rootpaw saw orange fur slipping through the crowd. His heart quickened. Squirrelflight was hurrying toward him. He tensed as she stopped in front of him. “Quick,” she hissed, glancing back at Bramblestar. “I don’t have long. Were you telling the truth about Bramblestar’s message?”
As Rootpaw stared at her, the ghost fluffed out its fur excitedly at the edge of his vision.
“Tell me!” She looked scared.
“Y-yes,” he blurted.
“Why should I believe you?” She searched his gaze desperately.
Bramblestar’s ghost whisked its tail. “Tell her that after the battle with the Sisters, we sat here in this clearing, looking up at the stars, wondering which one was Leafpool. She said it didn’t matter, because Leafpool would always be watching over ThunderClan.”
Rootpaw glanced at him, then at the impostor still in the Great Oak. Was this going to get him into more trouble?
“Don’t just stare into space!” Anger hardened Squirrelflight’s mew. “Tell me why I should believe you!”
“After the battle you . . .” He paused, trying to remember the words. “You were here with Bramblestar and you were looking at the stars, wondering which one was Leafpool, but it didn’t matter because she would always be watching over you.” He spoke so fast he nearly tripped over the words.
Squirrelflight stared at him, amazed. “He’s really a ghost?”
“He’s here now,” Rootpaw told her quickly.
She scanned the empty air.
“He can’t get back into his body because some other spirit is there,” Rootpaw told her. Hope flickered in his chest. Perhaps she could make everything right again.
“Squirrelflight!” The impostor’s yowl cut through the night air. “We’re leaving.”
Squirrelflight scanned the air once more, then turned and hurried away. She caught up with Bramblestar as he marched out of the clearing and pushed his way through the long grass, his pelt bristling angrily. The ghost watched her go, and she shot a longing look over her shoulder. Rootpaw searched the thinning crowd for his family. What would Tree say after the impostor’s behavior tonight? If he’d thought about leaving before, tonight must have convinced him that the Clans had changed, and not for the better.
Two ThunderClan warriors were pushing through the crowd, heading toward Rootpaw. He stiffened when he recognized Spotfur and Stemleaf. Were they coming to accuse him of disrespecting their leader?
“It was an accident—” he began as they reached him.
“What was?” Spotfur stopped and tipped her head, looking puzzled.
“Telling Bramblestar to shut up,” he mewed apologetically.
“We’re not here to talk about that.” Stemleaf glanced furtively over his shoulder. “We just wanted to tell you that we’re planning a secret meeting.”
He blinked at the white-and-orange tom. “What does that have to do with me?”
“It’s for cats who are worried about the way things are going in the Clans,” Stemleaf dropped his mew to a whisper. “We thought you might be interested.”
“Because you told Bramblestar to shut up,” Spotfur chimed.
“I wasn’t talking about him,” Rootpaw mumbled.
Stemleaf wasn’t listening. He seemed in too much of a hurry. “We’re going to see if we can stop Bramblestar from trying to punish so many cats.”
“We’re meeting at the greenleaf Twolegplace,” Spotfur whispered.
“Three nights from now,” Stemleaf added. “At moonhigh.”
They turned and hurried after their Clanmates before Rootpaw could speak. His pelt prickled along his spine.
“You’re going to go, aren’t you?” The ghost’s mew made him jump. He’d forgotten it was there.
He blinked at it. “I’m still in trouble for sneaking out last time,” he pointed out.
“But cats are finally realizing something is wrong!” The ghost was staring at him eagerly.
“If I get caught attending a secret meeting, I might never become a warrior!”
“You might never become a warrior if Tree decides to take you away from the Clans,” the ghost growled darkly. “And he will if the impostor carries on about making cats suffer.”
Rootpaw didn’t know what to say. Bramblestar’s ghost was right.
“You have to go.” The ghost stared at him. “You and Tree are the only ones who know about the impostor. You might be able to save the Clans.”
Rootpaw stared wordlessly at Bramblestar’s ghost. He felt suddenly small beneath the wide, black sky. He wasn’t even a warrior yet, and the whole fate of the Clans seemed to rest on his shoulders. If he acted, he might get in trouble. But if he did nothing, Tree might take their family away. He could stay, without his kin, but what if the impostor’s accusations tore the Clans apart? He’d have no family and no Clan.
He blinked helplessly at the ghost. “Okay,” he mewed. “I’ll go.”
Chapter 14
Bristlefrost poked a honeysuckle stem into the wall of the elders’ den and tugged to secure it.
“I can see the hole,” Flamepaw called to her from the roof. The young tom was balancing carefully on the delicate canopy of stems, a bracken frond in his paw.
“Can you reach it?” Bristlefrost called back.
“Yes.” Flamepaw began to thread the bracken into the woven honeysuckle.
Bristlefrost sat back on her haunches, relieved to be patching the final holes in the den at last. The sun was high, and ThunderClan had sent out two large patrols. Bristlefrost had asked Lilyheart if Flamepaw could stay in camp to help fix the den. He was nimble and light enough to work on the roof without crashing through it.
Lilyheart had taken the opportunity to clean out her nest and was hauling heather into the warriors’ den while Birchfall, Cinderheart, and Finchpaw rewove loose strands of brambles around the entrance tunnel. Alderheart and Jayfeather were sorting herbs in the medicine den. Poppyfrost was helping Cloudtail and Graystripe line their nests with fresh moss. It was rare these days to see a ThunderClan warrior resting. They preferred to work, which pleased Bristlefrost. StarClan would surely approve of their efforts. Even now, Sparkpelt, Spotfur, and Stemleaf were clearing old ferns from the patch beside the medicine den to give the young ferns more room to grow.
Below the Highledge, Bramblestar got up sleepily from his favorite patch of grass and padded toward the dirtplace tunnel. Squirrelflight scrambled to her paws as he disappeared and hurried across the clearing. Bristlefrost stiffened. Squirrelflight was heading toward her, her eyes glittering with worry.