“You’re right, Squirrelflight,” Stemleaf mewed, though Bristlefrost thought he sounded reluctant to admit it. “We should wait until Shadowsight wakes up before we do anything.”
But in spite of his words, Bristlefrost could tell from Stemleaf’s hesitant voice and his unwillingness to meet Squirrelflight’s gaze that he didn’t really want to do that at all.
She could hear more arguing among the younger ShadowClan warriors.
“I’d kill him now! I’d rip his throat out!”
“For StarClan’s sake, haven’t you listened to a word Squirrelflight said?”
It was clear that the assembly was splitting between cats who were willing to wait, and those who wanted to kill Bramblestar—right now.
Bristlefrost wasn’t sure what she wanted. She knew how dangerous the false Bramblestar was, and how much safer every cat would be if he was gone for good.
But what about the real Bramblestar? If we’re ever to bring him back, he’ll need a body to come home to. I admired him so much, she added sadly to herself. I wanted to impress him. And now . . . Who will lead ThunderClan, if not Bramblestar?
“So are we agreed?” Tigerstar demanded, taking control of the meeting. “We will do nothing until we have talked to Shadowsight.” His amber gaze raked the assembly. “Do you promise to stick to this plan?”
Slowly each cat in turn gave their promise, though Bristlefrost could still see angry or bitter looks coming from many of the cats. I hope this doesn’t cause a split among the rebels, she thought.
“Why is it that Tigerstar gets to decide?” she heard Breeze-pelt whisper. “He’s a leader, but he’s not my leader.”
“Doesn’t seem right to me,” Kitescratch agreed.
Crowfeather flicked his tail. “First Tigerstar wanted us to wait until we were all in agreement; now we’re waiting for Shadowsight to wake up. We’re never going to make a plan at this rate.”
Bristlefrost’s pads prickled with apprehension. Bramblestar might need protection.
“I may be blind, but I’m not deaf,” Jayfeather grumbled, clearly having picked up the whispering. “If any cat has something to say, you should speak up so we can all hear it.”
The whispering stopped, and for a few heartbeats no cat said anything. Eventually Breezepelt rose and gave his pelt an irritable shake.
“The only reason we aren’t killing the impostor,” he snapped, “is because the real Bramblestar might need his body one day. But his ghost hasn’t been seen in nearly half a moon. And that means,” he added with an apologetic glance at Squirrelflight, “that his spirit might be gone. In that case, what are we waiting for?”
Tigerstar turned to Rootpaw. “Do you have any news?” he asked the apprentice.
Reluctantly, Rootpaw shook his head. “I haven’t seen Bramblestar’s ghost for a long time,” he replied. “But that doesn’t mean he’s gone for good.”
“He isn’t gone,” Squirrelflight insisted, with an angry lash of her tail. “I can still feel his presence. And any cat who tries to kill my mate’s body will have me to answer to.”
Seeing Squirrelflight’s claws out and her eyes blazing, Bristlefrost thought she would be a formidable opponent for any cat. Breezepelt and the others clearly thought so too. For a few heartbeats they looked as if they might say more; then Breezepelt backed off, muttering something into his chest fur.
“There’s one more thing we can do,” Frecklewish announced as the tension began to die away. “Kestrelflight and Willowshine aren’t here. We should speak to them and see if they’re prepared to join us.”
“That won’t be easy,” Crowfeather responded. “Harestar and Mistystar, at least, are convinced that StarClan is punishing us with this heavy rain and wind, and that Bramblestar is the only cat who knows how to appease StarClan. And the medicine cats won’t want to act against their leaders’ wishes. At least not without good reason. If we move against Bramblestar without them, we’ll be fighting WindClan and RiverClan as well.”
“Then you’ll have to give them that good reason. Tell them what Bramblestar tried to do to Shadowsight,” Stemleaf told Frecklewish. “Surely they wouldn’t take the advice of a murderer?”
“We haven’t proved that he is a murderer yet,” Tree pointed out, though no cat took much notice of him.
Frecklewish let out a long sigh. “I hope Kestrelflight will listen,” she replied. “As a medicine cat, Shadowsight has a connection to at least one cat in each of the Clans. This attack on him should be enough to push them to do something.”
At Frecklewish’s words, the meeting began to break up. Bristlefrost was about to follow her Clanmates back to their own territory when Squirrelflight halted her, resting her tail on her shoulder and drawing her to one side.
“Please, Bristlefrost, watch over Bramblestar,” she begged. “I know it’s a lot to ask. After all, the impostor could be dangerous. But you’re one of the few cats he trusts, and you’ll know which cats to look out for,” she finished, with a sharp glance at Breezepelt and some of the other cats who were pressing for action.
“Don’t worry,” Bristlefrost assured her. “I won’t let anything happen to Bramblestar.”
Not if I can help it, she added to herself. But I hope I won’t have to battle cats I know, just to protect this stranger.
Chapter 13
Shadowsight stood at the side of the SkyClan medicine cats’ den, watching his mother, Dovewing, bending over his motionless body. “Please wake up . . . please,” she whispered, gently stroking his fur with one forepaw.
Shadowsight could hardly bear to see Dovewing’s grief and anxiety. He longed to feel his mother’s comforting touch; he wanted to wake up, if only for her sake, but he wasn’t ready to rejoin his body just yet. I’ll come back soon, Dovewing, he thought, but only after I figure out who attacked me. He knew that finding the culprit was the only way to protect himself and his Clan, and to do that, he’d have to stay a spirit a little longer.
Meanwhile his father, Tigerstar, was pacing back and forth across the den, his amber eyes smoldering and his pelt alive with anger. “I know Bramblestar is behind this!” he snarled. “He didn’t like the way Shadowsight was contradicting him, so he did his best to shut him up.”
Fidgetflake shook his head. “We have no proof that Bramblestar is behind the attack,” he pointed out.
Tigerstar whipped around to face him, fixing him with a glare. “But you know it was a cat, right?” he challenged the medicine cat.
“Yes . . . I know that much,” Fidgetflake admitted. “The size and depth of his wounds show that a cat attacked him—one who knew how to inflict serious harm.”
“Then that settles it,” Tigerstar snapped.
Dovewing looked up from her place beside Shadowsight’s body. “Things aren’t always what they seem,” she told her mate. “Remember when we suspected some other Clan of poisoning our fresh-kill pile, but it turned out to be Juniperclaw? We can’t go accusing a cat—especially a Clan leader—of something so serious, without proof.”
Tigerstar lashed his tail. “Look at the way Bramblestar has been acting!” he exclaimed. “How much more proof do you need? Besides, how are we supposed to get real proof? You were going to spy on ThunderClan when you were pretending to atone, but it turned out to be much harder than we expected.” He began his impatient pacing again. “Bramblestar, or whoever he really is,” he continued, “is so demented that I fear for the life of any cat who is caught spying.”