Then Violetshine stepped forward and joined in the wailing, nervously at first, then more confidently as she matched her voice to her mate’s. Her participation seemed to shift the mood of the circle. They might have thought Tree and Rootpaw were strange, but they respected Violetshine. If she took the ritual seriously, maybe they would too. Encouraged, Rootpaw joined his voice to his parents’. Then Hawkwing padded up to support them, followed by Needleclaw and Fidgetflake. Soon many others were wailing, their voices shivering upward as the stars began to appear.
Rootpaw felt that the sound was stretching out across all the lake territories, calling Bramblestar to them. This is going to work, Rootpaw thought, hope rising inside him. It has to. If Bramblestar is anywhere nearby, he will come.
Even as the last of the sunlight died, the song continued. Rootpaw gazed around while the rest of the cats went on with their wailing. He was sure that Bramblestar would come if he could, but there was no sign of him.
Tree fell silent, looking questioningly at Rootpaw, who could only shake his head sadly. But he wasn’t ready to give up yet. At last Rootpaw broke out of the circle and searched more and more desperately for Bramblestar around the edges of the camp and inside the dens. Please, Bramblestar, show yourself! he urged silently, but the ThunderClan leader was nowhere to be found. The voices grew more ragged, then finally faded into silence. Full darkness had fallen, and Bramblestar had not come.
Rootpaw gazed around and saw deep disappointment on the faces of his Clanmates; Leafstar in particular sat with her shoulders drooping and her gaze fixed on her paws.
“I’m sorry!” Rootpaw’s voice was shaking. He had let himself believe that this could work, and now he felt like even more of a failure than before. “I tried so hard, and it was no use.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Fidgetflake offered, casting a kind glance at Rootpaw.
Tree curled his tail around his son’s shoulders. “Ghosts are unpredictable,” he mewed comfortingly. “And Bramblestar’s spirit is probably even more so, as his body is still alive. We can try again.”
But Rootpaw felt heavy with dread. If it didn’t work this time, what’s the point of trying again?
“I have an idea,” Frecklewish announced unexpectedly. The Clan was breaking up now, cats heading for their dens, leaving the medicine cats in the center of the clearing with Tree, Rootpaw, and Leafstar. “Why don’t we try the ritual again, but this time at the Moonpool?”
“You know, that might just work.” Tree gave her an intent look. “But don’t the medicine cats go there at moonhigh? This ritual must be performed at sunset.”
“Sunset didn’t seem to work this time,” Frecklewish pointed out gently. “So maybe moonhigh will.”
Tree nodded. “I can’t argue with that,” he said. But he still seemed uncertain as he gazed around the clearing.
“The Moonpool is where we meet with the spirits of our warrior ancestors,” Frecklewish continued. “It might be easier for Bramblestar to come to us there.”
Leafstar nodded slowly. “That’s definitely worth a try,” she meowed. “Frecklewish, I know that only medicine cats are allowed at the Moonpool, but with your permission, Tree and I will come with you.”
“Of course, Leafstar,” Frecklewish replied immediately. “It’s not like we haven’t broken that rule over these past few moons. These are strange times, and until Star Clan returns”—Frecklewish glanced away sadly—“if they return, we must do whatever has a chance of working. You and Tree will be most welcome.”
Buffeting winds scoured the moor as the five cats made their way to the Moonpool. Rootpaw’s eyes watered and his fur was flattened to his sides as he struggled into the teeth of it. By the time he clambered up the final rocky slope to the top of the hollow, he felt fit for nothing except to curl up and sleep.
The Moonpool was dark as the SkyClan cats pushed through the bushes and began making their way down the spiral path. The stream cascading down from the rocks hardly seemed to disturb the surface. Here and there a glinting light reflected the stars and a claw-scratch of moon that appeared now and again through gaps in the racing clouds.
Rootpaw shivered. “Oh, StarClan, let it work this time!” he murmured.
Frecklewish ordered her Clanmates to find spaces for themselves around the edge of the pool. Then Tree threw his head back and sent up his eerie wailing to the silent sky. Rootpaw and the others joined in.
As the ritual song continued, Rootpaw gazed into the dark water, willing the spirit of Bramblestar to appear. Come—come now! You have to!
For a moment he thought that he saw something glimmering in the depths of the Moonpool, something more than the faint and fugitive stars. His heart lifted, everything within him reaching out to the light.
But at that moment Tree brought his song to a close, and the other cats dropped out, too, so that the wailing died away. The gleam of light faded too, as if it was sinking back into shadow.
“I saw something!” Rootpaw exclaimed, lashing his tail in frustration. “A light there—in the pool.”
Frecklewish padded to his side and peered downward. “I can’t see anything,” she mewed.
“It’s gone now.”
Frecklewish raised her head to meet Rootpaw’s gaze. “Are you sure you saw it?”
“Yes!” Rootpaw replied. “At least . . . I think so.”
“You probably imagined it,” Frecklewish stated briskly. “It’s easy to do, with the moon and starlight flickering like this. And it’s easy to imagine seeing what you’re really hoping for.”
The other cats murmured agreement, and Rootpaw had to agree too. He couldn’t put his paw on exactly what he had seen, and he couldn’t bring himself to argue with cats who were all much more experienced than he was. He let out a sigh of discouragement.
His companions all seemed to share his mood, their tails and whiskers drooping at this second failure of the Sisters’ ritual.
“It’s my belief that Bramblestar’s spirit is fading as he goes longer and longer without a body,” Tree meowed. “I’ve never known it to happen to ghosts before, but Bramblestar’s situation isn’t what you could call normal.”
Sadly Rootpaw decided that his father must be right. “Is it already too late to save him?” he asked anxiously.
Leafstar turned to Tree. “What do you think?”
“We know whoever is controlling Bramblestar’s body isn’t Bramblestar,” Tree began slowly. “No matter how much time we have left, if we want to save the ThunderClan leader, we have to fight against whoever has stolen his body.”
“You’re right, Tree,” Frecklewish agreed.
“Maybe that’s true, but I’m still not ready to start a war with ThunderClan,” Leafstar responded firmly. “Especially when two of the other Clans support them. I have to think of SkyClan first.”
“But what about Bramblestar?” Rootpaw asked, dismayed by his leader’s decision. “We can’t just abandon him.”
Tree gave his son an approving nod. “Leafstar, you have to realize that this . . . creature, whatever it is, inside Bramblestar’s body, is going to destroy us all, sooner or later.”
“Yes.” Frecklewish’s voice was harsh, quite different from her usual gentle demeanor. “He has already caused chaos in ShadowClan, and made two other Clans exile a deputy and a medicine cat. Where will it all end?”
“I understand what you’re saying,” Leafstar responded. “And I don’t mean to do nothing. We will watch and wait. It’s a terrible thing that I have to say, but I would rather sacrifice Bramblestar than SkyClan. No, Rootpaw,” she continued, as the apprentice opened his jaws to object again. “For now, we will carry on as we have.”