Midnight Page 11

  Squirrelpaw was already waiting for him, her dark ginger fur almost hidden in the shadows. “Brambleclaw, I—”

  “You’ve told your father something, haven’t you?” Brambleclaw interrupted. “After you promised to keep your mouth shut.”

  Squirrelpaw straightened up to face him, her neck fur bristling furiously. “I have not! I haven’t said a word to any cat.”

  “Then why is Firestar so determined to keep us apart?”

  “Oh, you’ve noticed too, have you?” Squirrelpaw tried to sound calm, but her voice rose to a wail as she went on, “I don’t know! I promise I didn’t tell him anything. But he looks at me like I’ve done something bad, and I haven’t.”

  Suddenly feeling sorry for the confused, unhappy she-cat, Brambleclaw padded up to her to press his muzzle against her side, but she whisked away from him, her teeth bared in the beginnings of a snarl.

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Leafpaw’s upset, too,” she added. “She hasn’t said anything, but I can tell.”

  Brambleclaw sat down and stared across the nettles to the thorn hedge around the camp, without really seeing it. He couldn’t make any sense of Firestar’s behaviour if Squirrelpaw was telling the truth about keeping quiet. Brambleclaw couldn’t bring himself to think that she was lying to him, which meant there had to be another reason Firestar was angry with them both. But what on earth could it be?

  “Perhaps we should ask him?” he suggested. “If he told us what the matter is, we might be able to put it right.”

  Squirrelpaw looked doubtful, but before she could reply Brambleclaw heard the sound of more cats pushing their way through the nettles. Springing to his paws, he whipped around to see Firestar himself, with Greystripe just behind.

  “So.” The ThunderClan leader stepped forward until he stood between his daughter and Brambleclaw. “Shrewpaw said I’d find you here.”

  “We weren’t doing anything wrong!” Squirrelpaw blurted out.

  “But I wonder what you think you are doing.” Firestar gave his daughter a hard stare and then transferred it to Brambleclaw. “Wasting your time, for one thing, when there’s work to be done.”

  “We’ve worked hard all day, Firestar,” Brambleclaw meowed, ducking his head respectfully.

  “That’s true, Firestar, they have,” Greystripe put in.

  Firestar shot him a quick glance, but did not respond. “Does that mean you think there’s nothing more to do?” he asked Brambleclaw. The younger warrior opened his mouth to protest, but his leader did not give him the chance. “If you’re so sure,” he went on, “then take a look at the elders. Frostfur got burrs tangled in her pelt today. You can help her get them out.”

  Anger flared inside Brambleclaw. That was an apprentice task! But he could see from Firestar’s cold green gaze that there was no point in arguing. He mumbled, “Yes, Firestar,” and padded away toward the main clearing.

  Once the nettles had rustled back into place, screening him from the little group of cats, he paused to hear Firestar speaking to Squirrelpaw, still in that same hard, displeased tone. “Squirrelpaw, you must have better things to do than hang about with an inexperienced warrior like Brambleclaw. Stay with your own mentor in the future.”

  Brambleclaw couldn’t hear Squirrelpaw’s response, and it wasn’t safe to stay there listening any longer. Sadness flooded over him as he made his way to the elders’ den. Somehow he had lost his leader’s respect, and if Squirrelpaw really hadn’t told her father about the dream and the meeting with the other cats at Fourtrees, he couldn’t imagine why.

  In two nights’ time he was supposed to leave on his journey with the cats from the other Clans to find the sun-drown place, and see what midnight told them. How could he possibly go, Brambleclaw wondered despairingly, when Firestar was watching him so closely? A chill ran through him from ears to tail-tip as he realised that to be loyal to the prophecy and to StarClan, he might have to be disloyal to his leader.

  CHAPTER 10

  Brambleclaw scarcely slept that night, and when he did, his dreams were full of Firestar’s anger, and images of his leader driving him away from the camp. When he pushed his way out of the warriors’ den the next morning, he still felt exhausted—even more so when he reflected that this was his last day in camp before his journey would begin.

  A grey dawn light was filtering through the camp, and the wind was chilly. Tasting the air, Brambleclaw thought he could make out the first scent of approaching leaf-fall. Change was on the way, he realised, whatever he and the other chosen cats tried to do.

  Throughout the day he did not even bother trying to speak to Squirrelpaw. Though Firestar had not ordered them to stay apart, he obviously didn’t like them to be together. There was no point in deliberately looking for trouble. Brambleclaw caught a glimpse of the young apprentice leaving the camp with Dustpelt; she looked oddly subdued, with her tail trailing against the earth and her ears flat.

  “You look as if you’ve lost a rabbit and found a shrew,” a brisk voice spoke beside him.

  Brambleclaw looked up; it was Mousefur.

  “Do you want to come hunting with me and Spiderpaw?” the she-cat meowed.

  For once Brambleclaw felt he hardly had the energy for hunting or anything else. With his journey due to start the next day, worries were crowding around him like cats at a Gathering. Was he really meant to lead four other cats out into the unknown, to face dangers they could not even imagine?

  Mousefur was still waiting for Brambleclaw to answer. He couldn’t help wondering if her suggestion of hunting together was another of Firestar’s orders to keep him busy. But the brown she-cat blinked at him in a friendly way, and he realised that he would be better off hunting than hanging about the camp worrying. Perhaps if he brought back plenty of prey he would start to regain Firestar’s good opinion.

  But the hunt didn’t go well. Spiderpaw was too easily distracted, as playful as a kit on its first outing. Once, as he was creeping up on a mouse, a leaf spiralled down past his nose, and he lifted one paw to bat at it. Startled by the clumsy movement, the mouse vanished under a root.

  “Honestly!” Mousefur sighed. “Do you expect the prey to come and jump into your mouth?”

  “Sorry,” Spiderpaw mewed, looking abashed.

  He made more of an effort after that. When the patrol came upon a squirrel nibbling an acorn in the middle of a clearing, Spiderpaw began stalking it, moving each long black leg stealthily. He was almost ready to pounce when the wind changed and carried his scent to his prey. The squirrel started, tail flicking up, and bounded towards the edge of the clearing.

  “Bad luck!” Brambleclaw called.

  Instead of answering, Spiderpaw raced after the squirrel and disappeared into the undergrowth.

  “Hey!” Mousefur shouted after him. “You’ll never catch a squirrel like that.” Spiderpaw did not reappear, and his mentor bared her teeth in a resigned growl. “One day he’ll learn.” She padded off into the undergrowth to find him.

  Left to himself, Brambleclaw stood still, listening for the sound of prey. There was a faint rustling in the leaves under the nearest tree. A mouse appeared, scuffling after seeds. Brambleclaw dropped into a hunting crouch and crept up on it, trying to make his paws float over the ground. Then he sprang, and killed his prey with one swift snap.

  He scraped earth over it so that he could collect it later, half wishing that Mousefur had been there to see his success. At least she could have told Firestar that he was still hunting well for his Clan—whatever the leader’s complaint was, it couldn’t be about that. Listening for more prey, promising himself one last good hunt before he left, he pricked up his ears instead at the sound of something bigger rustling among the bushes a little way off, in the opposite direction from where Spiderpaw and Mousefur had disappeared. Brambleclaw drew the air into his mouth, but could scent nothing except ThunderClan cats. He began to pad forward, only to quicken his pace as the rustling grew louder and was followed by a furious yowl. He
ran around the edge of a bramble thicket and stopped dead.

  There was a gorse bush in front of him, and Squirrelpaw was struggling madly among its thick, spiky branches. Her front paws were off the ground and her fur was tangled in the thorns. Brambleclaw couldn’t suppress a mrrow of laughter. “Having fun?”

  Instantly Squirrelpaw’s head whipped around and her green eyes flashed fury at him. “That’s right, have a good laugh, you stupid furball!” she snapped. “Then maybe you’ll have time to get me out of here!”

  She sounded so much like the old Squirrelpaw rather than the dejected creature that had left the camp that morning that Brambleclaw felt better at once. Tail waving, he strolled towards her. “How did you manage to get so stuck?”

  “I was chasing a vole.” Squirrelpaw sounded exasperated. “Dappletail said she fancied one, so I thought I’d better oblige, seeing that Firestar seems to want me to feed the elders, like, for ever. It ran under here, and I thought there was room for me to run after it.”

  “There isn’t,” Brambleclaw pointed out helpfully.

  “I know that now, mouse-brain! Do something!”

  “Keep still, then.” Approaching the bush, Brambleclaw saw where the worst tangles were, and began to tease out her fur, carefully using his teeth and claws. Some of the thorns pierced his nose, making his eyes water, but he kept on without complaining.

  “Hang on,” Squirrelpaw muttered after a while. “I think I’m loose.”

  Brambleclaw jumped out of the way as the apprentice plunged forwards, forepaws scrabbling the earth as she dragged her hindquarters clear of the branches. A moment later she was free, shaking herself irritably while she stared at the tufts of ginger fur she had left behind.

  “Thanks, Brambleclaw,” she meowed.

  “Are you hurt at all?” he asked. “Maybe you ought to let Cinderpelt have a look at—”

  “Squirrelpaw!”

  Brambleclaw froze and his heart sank. He slowly turned around to see Firestar stalking toward them.

  The Clan leader had an expression like ice in his eyes as he looked from Brambleclaw to his daughter and back again. “Is this how you obey orders?” he growled.

  The unfairness of Firestar’s attitude took Brambleclaw’s breath away. For a couple of heartbeats he couldn’t find words to answer, and when he did he knew he sounded guilty. “I’m not disobeying orders, Firestar.”

  “Oh? I’m sorry.” Firestar’s voice was as dry as a sun-scorched rock. “I thought you were supposed to be on a hunting patrol, but I must have heard wrong.”

  “I am on a hunting patrol,” Brambleclaw mewed desperately.

  Firestar made a great show of looking around. “I don’t see Mousefur or Spiderpaw.”

  “Spiderpaw went off after a squirrel.” Brambleclaw pointed with his tail. “Mousefur went after him.”

  “Why are you being so horrible?” Squirrelpaw interrupted, glaring at her father. “Brambleclaw isn’t doing anything wrong.”

  “Brambleclaw isn’t doing what he was told,” Firestar growled. “That isn’t the warrior code as I was taught it.”

  Squirrelpaw sprang forward to stand nose-to-nose with her father and lifted her voice in a yowl of pure fury. “I was stuck in the bush! Brambleclaw helped me! It’s not his fault!”

  “Be quiet,” Firestar rasped. Brambleclaw was struck by how much alike father and daughter looked: green eyes flashing, ginger pelts bristling angrily. “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “It looks like it has,” Squirrelpaw argued. “You growl at Brambleclaw every time he so much as glances at me—”

  “Silence!” Firestar hissed.

  Brambleclaw stared in alarm. Just at that moment, Greystripe thrust his way into the clearing, a vole clamped in his jaws.

  “Firestar?” he meowed, dropping his prey. “What’s going on?”

  Firestar lashed his tail, then straightened up with an impatient shake of his head. Brambleclaw forced himself to relax the fur on his neck.

  “Oh, right.” Greystripe’s amber eyes glowed with understanding as he looked at the other cats in the clearing, and Brambleclaw realised that whatever was making Firestar act like this, his deputy knew all about it. “Come on, Firestar,” he went on, padding up to the Clan leader and giving him a nudge. “These two aren’t doing any harm.”

  “And not much good, either,” Firestar retorted. He faced the two younger cats. “My decisions, and the orders I give, are for the good of the whole Clan,” he reminded them. “If you can’t understand that, then maybe you aren’t fit to be warriors.”

  “What?” Squirrelpaw’s jaws opened on a howl of outrage, but a furious hiss from her father silenced her.

  Brambleclaw was too bewildered even to try protesting. Something—some knowledge Firestar and Greystripe shared—had turned Firestar against him. If Squirrelpaw hadn’t told her father about the dream, then it had to be something else. But he had no idea what it could be, or what he could do about it.

  “You,” Firestar went on crisply, flicking his tail at Squirrelpaw, “take that vole of Greystripe’s to the elders, and then carry on hunting for them. You”—with a flick at Brambleclaw—“find Mousefur and see if you can possibly bring back some fresh-kill before dark. Do it now.”

  Without waiting to see if his orders were obeyed, he whipped around and stalked off through the bushes.

  Greystripe paused before following him. “He’s got a lot on his mind,” he murmured apologetically. “Don’t take it too much to heart. Everything will work out OK; you’ll see.”

  A yowl of “Greystripe!” came from the direction where Firestar had disappeared. Greystripe twitched his ears, nodded farewell to the two younger cats, and hurried after his leader.

  Squirrelpaw stared after them. Now that Firestar had gone and she no longer had to go on defying him, her tail drooped, and the gaze she turned on Brambleclaw was full of distress.

  “I can’t do anything right,” she meowed. “You heard what he said. He thinks I’m not fit to be a warrior. He’ll never give me my warrior name.”

  Brambleclaw did not know what to say. His bewilderment was melting into a slow, furious anger. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. Whatever was making Firestar behave like this, it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t Squirrelpaw’s, either. She could be annoying, but she was a loyal and hardworking apprentice. Any leader worth a couple of mousetails could see what a great warrior she would make.

  He glared down at the ground, and when Squirrelpaw spoke his name he scarcely heard her. He felt his mind clearing, like a grey sky when the wind tore the clouds away and the sun shone through. The day before, after the confrontation behind the nursery, he had felt torn between the demands of the prophecy and loyalty to Firestar. Now he looked ahead to see day after day of struggling to please his leader with no chance of success, because he did not know why Firestar was angry with him in the first place. There was only one solution. He must leave on the journey with only the word of StarClan to guide him, and not come back until he had discovered answers that would prove to Firestar how loyal he had been all along. Or else he would not come back at all.

  “Go on,” Brambleclaw meowed roughly, nodding toward the dropped vole. “Take that back, or he’ll have another go at you.”

  “What about you?” Squirrelpaw, usually so bright and confident, sounded nervous.

  “I . . .” He had been about to lie to her, and tell her that he was going to look for Mousefur. Then he realised how deeply betrayed she would feel when he didn’t come back. After all, they were in this together, at least as far as Firestar’s hostility was concerned. “I’m leaving,” he told her.

  “Leaving?” Squirrelpaw echoed in dismay. “Leaving ThunderClan?”

  “Not leaving for good,” Brambleclaw put in quickly. “Squirrelpaw, listen. . . .”

  She sat in front of him, and her wide green eyes never left his face as he told her about the second dream, of drowning in endless salty water and being swept toward the cav
e with teeth.

  “Ravenpaw says it’s a real place,” he explained. “I think StarClan are telling me to go there, and the other cats agree. We’re starting at sunrise tomorrow.”

  The hurt in Squirrelpaw’s eyes was clear. “You told them and not me?” she wailed. “Brambleclaw, you promised!”

  “I know.” Brambleclaw felt guilt gnawing at him. “I was going to, and then all this trouble with Firestar started—StarClan know why, and if they do, they’re telling me even less about it than they’ve told me about the prophecy.”

  “And you’re really going all that way? But you don’t even know how far it is.”

  “None of us do,” Brambleclaw admitted. “But Ravenpaw has spoken to cats who have seen the place, so it must be possible to get there. I’m not coming back to the camp,” he added. “I’ll spend the night somewhere in the forest, and meet the others at Fourtrees in the morning. Please, Squirrelpaw, don’t give us away. Don’t tell any cat where we’ve gone.”

  As he spoke, Squirrelpaw’s eyes brightened until they were gleaming with excitement. Brambleclaw knew what she was going to say a heartbeat before she said it.

  “I won’t breathe a word to any cat,” she promised. “I can’t, because I’m coming with you.”

  “Oh, no, you’re not!” Brambleclaw retorted. “You’re not one of the chosen cats. You’re not even a warrior yet.”

  “Crowpaw isn’t a warrior,” Squirrelpaw flashed back at him. “And I’d bet a moon of dawn patrols Stormfur is coming. He’d never let Feathertail go without him. So why do I have to be left out?” She hesitated, and then added, “I didn’t tell any cat about the first dream, Brambleclaw. I never said a word. Not even to Leafpaw.”

  Brambleclaw knew that was true. If Squirrelpaw had dropped even a hint, it would have been all around the camp by now.

  “I didn’t promise you could come,” he reminded her. “I promised to tell you, and I’ve done that.”

  “But you can’t leave me behind,” Squirrelpaw cried. “If I don’t know what happens next, my fur will fall out from wondering!”