Meanwhile, Rootspring crept toward the tree, setting his paws down as quietly as he could, and leaped up onto the lowest branch, hiding himself among the leaves while he waited nervously to see if Bristlefrost would join him.
Finally he heard her clawing her way up the trunk, and then he spotted her clambering onto the branch beside him, struggling to get her balance as the branch dipped under their combined weight.
“Have you got bees in your brain, showing up like this?” she asked him. “If Bramblestar had seen you when he was out on his walk . . .”
“Yeah, about that,” Rootspring mewed. “Where was he going?”
“I have no idea.” Bristlefrost twitched her whiskers irritably. “Or what he’s doing. I—”
“Never mind him, then,” Rootspring interrupted. “It’s you I’m concerned about. Every cat, except maybe Squirrelflight, seems to think you’re a traitor.” He hesitated for a heartbeat before asking the question that had been buzzing in his brain ever since the meeting. Even though I’m dreading what her answer will be. “Did you betray us to that fake leader?”
Bristlefrost let out a hiss of indignation. “No, I did not!” she retorted. “Honestly, Rootspring, I promised Squirrelflight I would protect Bramblestar’s body. That why I didn’t help attack him. I’m still on your side. I’m just trying to help from inside ThunderClan. I never wanted him to name me deputy, but I figure at least it’ll be easier to defeat the mange-pelt if there’s a cat who’s close but working against him.”
Rootspring found that he believed every word, even though he guessed that many cats wouldn’t. They might think that if she would betray Bramblestar, she would betray the rebels, too. He wasn’t sure what to say; at last he broke a long and awkward silence by shifting his paws to pull himself a little closer to her. “So you’re not a traitor to the Clans?”
“Of course I’m not!” Bristlefrost snapped. “And it really hurts that you of all cats could think that of me. It wasn’t too hard to fool the fake Bramblestar, but I would have thought you knew me better than that. I would never have thought so badly of you. . . .”
Rootspring felt as though his belly were falling all the way to the ground, but at the same time his spirits were soaring. She’s on our side after all!
“I’m sorry for doubting you,” he meowed. “But I didn’t know what to think. If I didn’t like you so much, I wouldn’t have felt so angry when it looked like you had turned on me and the others.”
Bristlefrost’s eyes widened. “You like me? Even after . . .” Her voice died away.
Rootspring felt as if his pelt were on fire from embarrassment, but he managed to meet Bristlefrost’s suddenly softened gaze. “I can’t help it,” he muttered.
“You know why that could never happen, right?” Bristlefrost’s gentle voice sounded impossibly loud in Rootspring’s ears. “This whole terrible situation the Clans are in is because of codebreaking—and that includes cats from different Clans getting together. That’s always been against the warrior code.”
“Yes, I know,” Rootspring began. “That’s why I would never have said anything. . . .” His words dried up like a puddle under the sun of greenleaf as he realized the meaning of what Bristlefrost had just said. “Does that mean you . . . you like me, too?” he blurted; forcing each word out was a massive effort, but he had to ask the question.
Bristlefrost didn’t reply for a moment, instead bending her head to give her chest fur a few embarrassed licks. “Yes . . . yes, I do have feelings for you,” she admitted at last. “But what can we do about it? Nothing.” She closed her eyes briefly as if in pain. “There’s no way it can go anywhere.”
Rootspring heaved a sigh from deep within his chest. I know she’s right. But it hurt so much to hear her say it.
Even as the thought settled in his mind, the twisty feeling in his belly told him that he didn’t like having to accept it. Shaking his head clear of his tortured thoughts, he added, “We have something bigger to worry about. Tigerstar is going to lead an attack on ThunderClan tomorrow.”
Bristlefrost stared at him with a sharp intake of breath. “Tomorrow? I didn’t expect it to be so soon.”
“Tigerstar would have liked it sooner,” Rootspring told her. “And you might have to be the cat who saves the fake Bramblestar’s body. We can’t let it be destroyed—if we do, the real Bramblestar might never be able to return.”
“I’ll have no problem keeping an eye on the impostor,” Bristlefrost mewed ruefully. “He seems to like having me around right now, for some reason.” Her voice grew wistful. “I’ll be so glad when all this strife is over,” she sighed. “When the Clans can go back to normal, bickering about territory, not disputing the meaning of the entire warrior code.”
Rootspring nodded. “Yes, things will be different—they’ll be better, once we’ve sorted all this out.”
Bristlefrost paused briefly, tilting her head to look at him. “Better how?” she asked. “Do you mean, maybe the rules will be looser, things will be . . . possible then, that aren’t possible now?”
Rootspring hadn’t meant that, but he was not about to tell Bristlefrost so. He realized she was talking about their future, and he wanted to know what she would say next. “What if they were?” he asked hopefully.
“Maybe if we both survive this battle, we can be together on the other side,” she suggested.
“Yes!” Rootspring responded eagerly. “Maybe we can.”
But he saw that Bristlefrost’s eyes were full of sadness, as though she knew, deep down beneath her hopeful surface, that nothing would be that easy. Rootspring knew it, too. He leaned closer to Bristlefrost until his head brushed her shoulder, and for a moment they sat side by side, not needing to speak. Basking in the warmth of her pelt so close to his, Rootspring realized that they might not have a future. But right now they were together, and for the moment, that was enough.
Rootspring had just returned to the SkyClan camp and chosen a mouse from the fresh-kill pile when he spotted Blossomheart and Nettlesplash emerging from the fern tunnel, with the false Bramblestar trailing just behind them. He watched curiously as they headed toward Leafstar’s den.
“Leafstar!” Blossomheart called. “We have a visitor.”
The SkyClan leader poked her head out of her den, her ears flicking up as she spotted the impostor. Padding into the open, she asked, “Where did you find him? Not on our territory, I hope?”
“He was walking along the border,” Nettlesplash replied. “He asked to speak to you.”
Rapidly gulping down his mouse, Rootspring eased himself a little closer to hear what was going on. More of the SkyClan warriors were gathering, too, alert but not threatening, as the two leaders confronted each other.
“What do you want?” Leafstar asked.
“I’ve heard rumors that Tigerstar might be planning an attack on ThunderClan,” Bramblestar replied. “Do you know anything about this?”
For a moment Rootspring’s chest throbbed with panic, as he wondered whether Bristlefrost could have betrayed the rebels by passing on what he had told her. No, that’s impossible, he reassured himself. I trust her—and besides, she hasn’t had time to find Bramblestar and tell him.
“I’ve heard nothing,” Leafstar responded curtly.
Bramblestar stared at her for a long moment, as if he was looking for a sign that she might be lying. Then he nodded. “There’s nothing to worry about for any of us, because there’s no way ShadowClan can take on the combined might of ThunderClan, RiverClan, WindClan, and SkyClan—is there? And if ShadowClan is planning an attack soon . . . there’s still time to surprise them.”