“And they made the wrong decision.” Mistystar’s blue eyes were full of distress, but her tone was unwavering. “They must bear the consequences.”
The other leaders exchanged regretful glances, but there was obviously no point in arguing further.
“In that case,” Tigerstar announced eventually, “they had better come with me to ShadowClan. They will always have a home there.”
Sharp cries of shock rose up from the assembled cats. “Who are you, and what have you done with Tigerstar?” Needleclaw muttered into Rootspring’s ear.
Meanwhile, Tigerstar announced that the Gathering was at an end. A stunned air had fallen over every cat as the crowd began to break up into their separate Clans, ready to go home.
Mistystar was the first leader to leap down from the Great Oak and summon her Clan with a whisk of her tail. She led them off with a determined stride toward the encircling bushes, leaving the three exiles standing clustered together as they watched their Clanmates leaving without them. Icewing took a pace toward the ShadowClan cats, then halted.
It’s still too strange for them, Rootspring thought. His belly twisted with compassion as he watched RiverClan go. I wonder if the Clans will survive this, he added to himself. How can things possibly feel this terrible, after such a great victory over the fake Bramblestar?
The other leaders had jumped down to gather their Clans when Squirrelflight suddenly let out a loud yowl. “Wait!”
She raced back to the Great Oak and leaped back into the branches. Even from a distance, Rootspring could see that her green eyes were wide and bright, with a lurking trace of horror.
The dispersing cats slowly halted, turning to look curiously up at her. A few RiverClan cats who had already vanished into the bushes pushed their way back into the clearing.
“Don’t worry,” Tigerstar called out, looking over his shoulder at Squirrelflight. “We won’t hurt Bramblestar’s precious body.”
But Squirrelflight shook her head. “That’s not it,” she responded, her voice hoarse. “I know.”
“Know what?” Jayfeather asked crankily. “For StarClan’s sake, come out with it. We’re all tired.”
“I know who has taken over Bramblestar’s body!”
Rootspring gaped, hardly able to believe what he had just heard. Around him, all the cats were letting out exclamations of confusion and surprise.
“And,” Squirrelflight continued, “if I’m right, it’s even worse than we thought.”
Excerpt from Bravelands #1: Broken Pride
Chapter 1
Swiftcub pounced after the vulture’s shadow, but it flitted away too quickly to follow. Breathing hard, he pranced back to his pride. I saw that bird off our territory, he thought, delighted. No rot-eater’s going to come near Gallantpride while I’m around!
The pride needed him to defend it, Swiftcub thought, picking up his paws and strutting around his family. Why, right now they were all half asleep, dozing and basking in the shade of the acacia trees. The most energetic thing the other lions were doing was lifting their heads to groom their nearest neighbors, or their own paws. They had no idea of the threat Swiftcub had just banished.
I might be only a few moons old, but my father is the strongest, bravest lion in Bravelands. And I’m going to be just like him!
“Swiftcub!”
The gentle but commanding voice snapped him out of his dreams of glory. He came to a halt, turning and flicking his ears at the regal lioness who stood over him.
“Mother,” he said, shifting on his paws.
“Why are you shouting at vultures?” Swift scolded him fondly, licking at his ears. “They’re nothing but scavengers. Come on, you and your sister can play later. Right now you’re supposed to be practicing hunting. And if you’re going to catch anything, you’ll need to keep your eyes on the prey, not on the sky!”
“Sorry, Mother.” Guiltily he padded after her as she led him through the dry grass, her tail swishing. The ground rose gently, and Swiftcub had to trot to keep up. The grasses tickled his nose, and he was so focused on trying not to sneeze, he almost bumped into his mother’s haunches as she crouched.
“Oops,” he growled.
Valor shot him a glare. His older sister was hunched a little to the left of their mother, fully focused on their hunting practice. Valor’s sleek body was low to the ground, her muscles tense; as she moved one paw forward with the utmost caution, Swiftcub tried to copy her, though it was hard to keep up on his much shorter legs. One creeping pace, then two. Then another.
I’m being very quiet, just like Valor. I’m going to be a great hunter. He slunk up alongside his mother, who remained quite still.
“There, Swiftcub,” she murmured. “Do you see the burrows?”
He did, now. Ahead of the three lions, the ground rose up even higher, into a bare, sandy mound dotted with small shadowy holes. As Swiftcub watched, a small nose and whiskers poked out, testing the air. The meerkat emerged completely, stood up on its hind legs, and stared around. Satisfied, it stuck out a pink tongue and began to groom its chest, as more meerkats appeared beyond it. Growing in confidence, they scurried farther away from their burrows.
“Careful now,” rumbled Swift. “They’re very quick. Go!”
Swiftcub sprang forward, his little paws bounding over the ground. Still, he wasn’t fast enough to outpace Valor, who was far ahead of him already. A stab of disappointment spoiled his excitement, and suddenly it was even harder to run fast, but he ran grimly after his sister.
The startled meerkats were already doubling back into their holes. Stubby tails flicked and vanished; the bigger leader, his round dark eyes glaring at the oncoming lions, was last to twist and dash underground. Valor’s jaws snapped at his tail, just missing.
“Sky and stone!” the bigger cub swore, coming to a halt in a cloud of dust. She shook her head furiously and licked her jaws. “I nearly had it!”
A rumble of laughter made Swiftcub turn. His father, Gallant, stood watching them. Swiftcub couldn’t help but feel the usual twinge of awe mixed in with his delight. Black-maned and huge, his sleek fur glowing golden in the sun, Gallant would have been intimidating if Swiftcub hadn’t known and loved him so well. Swift rose to her paws and greeted the great lion affectionately, rubbing his maned neck with her head.
“It was a good attempt, Valor,” Gallant reassured his daughter. “What Swift said is true: meerkats are very hard to catch. You were so close—one day you’ll be as fine a hunter as your mother.” He nuzzled Swift and licked her neck.
“I wasn’t anywhere near it,” grumbled Swiftcub. “I’ll never be as fast as Valor.”
“Oh, you will,” said Gallant. “Don’t forget, Valor’s a whole year older than you, my son. You’re getting bigger and faster every day. Be patient!” He stepped closer, leaning in so his great tawny muzzle brushed Swiftcub’s own. “That’s the secret to stalking, too. Learn patience, and one day you will be a very fine hunter.”
About the Author
ERIN HUNTER is inspired by a love of cats and a fascination with the ferocity of the natural world. As well as having great respect for nature in all its forms, Erin enjoys creating rich mythical explanations for animal behavior. She is also the author of the Seekers, Survivors, and Bravelands series.