But the impostor never struck. Instead he froze, staring at something behind Bristlefrost. She turned to see the crowd of cats parting and Squirrelflight thrusting her way to the front.
“You’re . . . you’re alive?” Bramblestar choked out.
While he was distracted, Tigerstar heaved himself up and scrambled out from underneath his opponent. Springing to his paws, he slashed his claws at the side of Bramblestar’s neck. As blood trickled from the wound, Bramblestar tried to rear up, aiming a clumsy blow at Tigerstar. Avoiding the blow with ease, Tigerstar butted the impostor’s side with his head; Bramblestar’s legs crumpled and he fell to the ground.
Tigerstar stood for a few heartbeats, watching his opponent’s blood seep out and pool in the dirt, then set one heavy forepaw down on the impostor’s neck while he raised the other to strike the killing blow.
“No!” Bristlefrost exclaimed, instinctively racing to Bramblestar’s side.
Squirrelflight was there before her. “No, don’t kill him,” she meowed. “We agreed, remember? We need him. If his body dies before the real Bramblestar’s spirit can return, who knows what happens then? Bramblestar could be lost forever!”
Tigerstar looked down at the defeated form of the impostor, whose eyes were closed, his chest heaving weakly. The gleam of battle was still in the ShadowClan leader’s eyes, and for a moment Bristlefrost wasn’t sure what he meant to do.
Eventually, Tigerstar nodded. “I won’t kill his body,” he announced. “But I’m not letting this cat walk free.”
“You’re right,” Squirrelflight agreed. “We’ll take him prisoner instead. Once he wakes up, we can question him, and get to the bottom of exactly what’s going on here.”
Tigerstar dipped his head respectfully to the ThunderClan deputy. “Shadowsight!” he called. “Come here and see to this lump of crow-food.” Then he turned and stalked off, summoning the other leaders to follow him with a whisk of his tail.
All around the camp the exhausted warriors were breaking up into groups, Clan mingling with Clan, some of them looking embarrassed as they spoke with cats they had been fighting not long before. Though Bristlefrost could hear some of them apologizing for how they had been deceived, for letting their Clanmates be exiled, she couldn’t help wondering if every cat was ready to forgive.
How many new grudges were planted today?
Bristlefrost watched as Shadowsight appeared out of the crowd with a pawful of cobwebs and started applying them expertly to the wound in Bramblestar’s neck. She tried to feel relief that her leader’s body had been saved, and because it seemed that the Clans weren’t at war with each other anymore. Then she saw the bodies lying still on the floor of the camp, their Clanmates beginning to cluster around them.
Oh, no! Berrynose . . . Rosepetal . . . Sandynose . . . And there were others that she couldn’t identify from where she stood. Her relief was swallowed up in a wash of sorrow.
This didn’t feel like the beginning of a better time. Not with so many cats dead. Not with ThunderClan’s leader still missing.
Chapter 22
Shadowsight crouched in the medicine cats’ den, chewing up the last of his store of comfrey to make a poultice for Bramblestar’s wounds. Tigerstar had told him that he must keep the ThunderClan leader alive at any cost, and while he had stopped the bleeding, he sometimes felt that Bramblestar was about to slip away for good. Already he had almost exhausted the herb store in his efforts to keep the impostor alive.
It seems like all I can do is pray to StarClan. Or will that do any good? I saw how they were imprisoned. And Harestar said that StarClan was fading, barely there anymore.
Bramblestar had begun to stir as his consciousness returned, when Squirrelflight slipped into the den and stood looking down at him, deep concern in her eyes.
“How is he?” she asked.
“He’ll be fine,” Shadowsight assured her, though he wished he felt more confident when he said it.
“I must have bees in my brain,” Squirrelflight murmured. “I want so desperately to lie down beside him, to try to keep him strong, except . . . that’s not my mate, is it? Not really. I’m so confused. . . .”
Shadowsight didn’t know how to respond. I’m a medicine cat. I’ll never know anything about the love between mates. So what can I say to her now?
“I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Bramblestar alive,” he meowed at last.
“Thank you,” Squirrelflight replied.
She was turning to leave the den when Bramblestar stirred again and his eyes flickered open. “Squirrelflight!” he called out in a pained, wheezing gasp. Then he mumbled something else that Shadowsight couldn’t make out.
“What did you say?” Squirrelflight asked curiously, turning back to him.
Bramblestar’s chest heaved as he fought to breathe, and he finally managed to force out a few more words. Now Shadowsight could understand him.
“I came back . . . for you.”
The effort had been too much. Bramblestar’s body sagged and his eyes closed as he lapsed back into unconsciousness.
“Is he dead?” Squirrelflight asked, her eyes wide with alarm.
Shadowsight bent over the ThunderClan leader, placing a paw on his chest and sniffing around his muzzle. “No, he’s alive,” he mewed at last. Straightening up, he added, “Squirrelflight, what did that mean? ‘I came back for you’?”
For a moment Squirrelflight seemed completely confused, gazing up at the roof of the den and back down at Bramblestar’s motionless form. “I’m starting to think there’s something familiar about this fake Bramblestar,” she murmured. “But I can’t quite put my paw on what it is, or who it might actually be. I do know one thing, though,” she added, meeting Shadowsight’s concerned gaze. “I have a terrible feeling about all of this.”
She left the den, and with a last look at the impostor, Shadowsight followed her out to see the devastation still strewn about the camp. Countless moons seemed to have passed since the Clan had roused before dawn, and yet sunhigh was still a little way off.
The camp was still full of warriors from the other Clans, moving their fallen Clanmates to their burial places. Pain clawed at Shadowsight’s heart as he spotted Strikestone and Frondwhisker being carried into the center of the camp so their Clanmates could sit vigil for them that night. Warriors from WindClan and RiverClan were lifting Smokehaze and Softpelt, ready to bear them home. Meanwhile Puddleshine was passing from one cat to another, checking on the wounds they had received in the battle. All the cats were grieving and exhausted, and after a moment Shadowsight couldn’t bear to go on looking.
So many warriors dead or injured because of that evil thing inside Bramblestar.
Instead he glanced across the camp to where his father was deep in conversation with the other leaders and their deputies. Shadowsight noticed Bristlefrost hovering awkwardly on the edge of the group, clearly wishing she were anywhere else.
Tigerstar looked up and, spotting Shadowsight, beckoned him with a whisk of his tail. Shadowsight bounded over to join him, and Squirrelflight followed.
“How is that piece of fox dung?” Tigerstar demanded as Shadowsight halted in front of him.
No need to ask who he means! “I’ve treated his wounds,” Shadowsight replied, “but he’s not doing as well as I’d like. There’s still a chance he might not make it.”
Tigerstar nodded. “This means we have a big decision to make about the future of ThunderClan,” he told the others. “It still has a leader, but he’s in no fit state to lead—and he can’t be trusted. It also has a deputy who is clearly too young to take over the leadership.”