Shadowsight explained how he had visited the ThunderClan camp as a spirit, and how the spirit of another cat had emerged from Bramblestar’s body. “It was his voice I heard, warning the Clans about codebreakers,” he finished, “and not StarClan’s at all.”
Puddleshine listened to the story with wide, horrified eyes. “This is terrible!” he breathed out. “Rootspring showed us Bramblestar’s ghost, but to realize that whoever is controlling his body is so vicious, and has been plotting this for so long?”
“And planning to control all of us,” Tigerstar snarled. “It leaves us with no option but to go into battle. We can’t wait any longer for the other Clans to join us. The only way to solve this is to kill whatever is living inside Bramblestar.”
Shadowsight half started up; every hair on his pelt tingled with fear at his father’s determination. “No!” he protested. “Please, you have to listen to me! You can’t attack Bramblestar—not until I can find out what has happened to the real Bramblestar’s ghost!”
Chapter 17
Rootspring crouched beside the stream in the exiles’ camp on ShadowClan territory. Thick clouds covered the sky, hiding the moon and stars, and scarcely a glint of light touched the dark water beside him. He could hear the quiet gurgle of the current and the soft paw steps of cats as they brushed through the grass and ferns to gather for the meeting. Rootspring caught glimpses of their shining eyes as they settled down, and he picked up the mingled scents of all the Clans, but as yet there was no sign of Tigerstar.
A familiar voice spoke behind him. “Greetings, Rootspring.”
The young tom swung around to see Squirrelflight, with Spotfur at her shoulder, and a pace farther back another cat whose pale pelt glimmered in the uncertain light.
“Greetings, Squirrelflight, Spotfur.” Rootspring peered harder at the third cat. “And—great StarClan, is that Berrynose?”
The cream-colored tom ducked his head awkwardly. “Greetings,” he muttered.
Before Rootspring could get over his surprise, another cat strode up: Tigerstar, who halted face-to-face with Berrynose. Anger and mistrust were rolling off him like the scent of fox.
“What do you want here?” he demanded. “Aren’t you Bramblestar’s deputy?”
“Not anymore,” Squirrelflight explained, resting a calming tail-tip on Tigerstar’s shoulder. “Crowfeather found him wandering in the forest earlier today. It seems Bramblestar exiled him for not being quick enough in his defense when the young warriors attacked.”
“Not being quick enough!” Tigerstar repeated with a lash of his tail. “We’ve just finished burying Conefoot. It seems like Bramblestar’s defenders were quite effective.”
“You don’t have to convince me,” Squirrelflight responded calmly. “But clearly Bramblestar sees it differently. He’s made Bristlefrost deputy.”
Rootspring couldn’t suppress a gasp of shock.
“Bristlefrost!” Tigerstar’s voice was raised in a yowl. “That very young cat who’s been coming to the rebel meetings? I didn’t think she’d even had an apprentice.”
“She hasn’t,” Squirrelflight told him. “She’s a good cat, but yes, she’s very young.”
“She shouldn’t be deputy,” Berrynose hissed, clearly furious at being supplanted. “It’s against the code!”
“True,” Squirrelflight agreed. “It’s just another sign that Bramblestar is losing touch with reality.”
“Bristlefrost warned Bramblestar of the attack,” Spotfur added, “and she brought him help. It would seem that she’s a traitor.”
Rootspring felt as though a badger had clawed his chest open and ripped out his heart. Bristlefrost couldn’t be a traitor, could she? But he couldn’t explain why she would warn Bramblestar, when she knew what he was—and what he wasn’t.
More cats were gathering to listen, and their shocked, fearful comments rose up around Rootspring. Squirrelflight’s voice cut through all of them.
“Bristlefrost isn’t a traitor,” she meowed. “I asked her to protect Bramblestar’s body, in case the real Bramblestar needs it someday.”
Rootspring caught her gaze falling on him, and he looked down at his own paws, embarrassed at the relief he must be showing. Bristlefrost is a good warrior. She would do her best to obey an order from her former deputy.
Spotfur’s response was a contemptuous grunt. “You can’t know why she did it. Would Bristlefrost value Bramblestar’s life over Stemleaf’s, and the other rebels’? I doubt it, not if she’s loyal to us. And don’t forget, if Bristlefrost is loyal to Bramblestar, she knows all our secrets. We have to assume from now on that Bramblestar knows we’re working against him. That’s our only safe option, to make sure we’re not . . . surprised, by anything he does now.”
Rootspring stared at the ThunderClan cat, not wanting to believe her words, but finding it hard to dismiss them. Bristlefrost wouldn’t! Would she? he asked himself again.
“What do you think about all this?” Tigerstar asked, turning to Berrynose. “Can you tell us anything about Bramblestar that would help defeat him?”
Berrynose’s eyes widened in consternation. “No—I—” he stammered. “I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding. Bramblestar is a good cat. I would never—”
“So we can’t count on your support in the battle,” Tigerstar sneered.
Berrynose glanced from Tigerstar to Squirrelflight and back again. “I don’t know,” he mewed despairingly. “I don’t know what I believe. But I can’t imagine fighting with you against Bramblestar. He’s my leader, for StarClan’s sake!”
“Get out, then!” Tigerstar snarled. “I won’t shelter cats loyal to Bramblestar on my territory.”
Berrynose stared at him, stunned; before he could move to obey the order, Squirrelflight stretched out a warning paw to Tigerstar.
“Don’t be shortsighted,” she advised him. “If we let Berrynose go, he could run right back to Bramblestar and tell him everything. Let me keep him here in the exiles’ camp as a prisoner, until he decides where his loyalties lie.” She looked at Berrynose. “You’re right that a good warrior supports his leader. But that isn’t Bramblestar. If we tell you more, maybe we can convince you of the truth.”
Tigerstar grunted, clearly unimpressed with the idea, then gave a reluctant nod.
“Thank StarClan you’ve made a decision,” Spotfur snapped, her voice full of bitterness. “Like Berrynose is the most important cat in the forest! He’s not. In case you’ve forgotten, we lost strong allies in that fight; Stemleaf, Conefoot, and Dappletuft are all dead.”
At her words, the cats around them stirred, and began to repeat the names of the fallen in soft and loving voices. “Stemleaf . . . Conefoot . . . Dappletuft . . .” Rootspring and the others stood with bowed heads until the voices died away.
“We will never forget them,” Tigerstar meowed at last. “But they acted expressly against orders. We’d all agreed not to kill Bramblestar yet.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Spotfur demanded angrily. “Bramblestar—or whatever cat is living inside him—is turning the Clans against one another at this very moment. How far will you let him go?”
“Spotfur . . .” Squirrelflight touched her nose gently to the younger she-cat’s ear, but Spotfur shook her off with a jerk of her head.
“I’m sick of all the arguing!” she snarled. “I don’t want Stemleaf to have died for nothing!”
Pain clawed at Rootspring’s heart at the raw grief in Spotfur’s voice, but he realized that the loss of her mate hadn’t overwhelmed her. She was as strong as ever, and determined to seek vengeance.
“Some cat is going to pay for what has happened,” she vowed. “And I want that cat to be whoever is inside Bramblestar.”