The Silent Thaw Page 12

  Tree gazed at him solemnly. “I can’t use my position like that,” he mewed gently. “If she doesn’t believe me, it will reflect badly on SkyClan. Squirrelflight could say that I’m trying to undermine ThunderClan. It could go very wrong. It might even start a battle. We can’t risk that until we’re sure of our facts.”

  Rootpaw’s pelt tingled. He felt sure another pair of eyes was watching him. He turned around, his heart lurching as Bramblestar’s ghost padded toward him.

  “Can he see me?” The ghost nodded toward Tree.

  Rootpaw shook his head. “But I’ve told him about you.”

  “Does he believe you?” Bramblestar’s eyes narrowed.

  “Yes.” Rootpaw nudged his father. “Bramblestar’s ghost is here.”

  Tree stiffened, looking around. “Where?”

  “Over there.” Rootpaw flicked his tail toward the apparition. Its ghostly pelt was rippling like water in the sunshine.

  Tree stared blankly at the patch of grass Rootpaw had pointed out.

  “Can you see it now?” Rootpaw asked eagerly. Perhaps if he tried harder, now that he knew where the ghost was . . .

  Tree shrugged. “I can’t see every dead cat.” He blinked at Rootpaw. “I wouldn’t want to.”

  Bramblestar’s ghost was staring excitedly at Tree. “Is he going to help you speak to Squirrelflight?”

  “He can’t,” Rootpaw told it. “Not without getting SkyClan in trouble with the other Clans.”

  Bramblestar’s gaze darkened. “He could try.”

  Rootpaw stretched his muzzle toward his father. “He wants you to try to talk to Squirrelflight,” he explained.

  “I can’t.” Tree stared blankly into space, clearly trying to focus on the spot where he thought Bramblestar’s ghost stood. “This needs to come from Rootpaw. He’s the only cat who can help her speak to you, if she asks—which she certainly will, because she will want proof. And if she figures out that I’m lying, she might think it’s some kind of SkyClan plot. It could cause all sorts of trouble. . . .”

  The ghost looked thoughtful. “I guess Rootpaw would sound more genuine.”

  Rootpaw’s pelt bristled. “But I’m just an apprentice!” He shifted uncomfortably as Tree and Bramblestar’s ghost looked at him. “How am I even supposed to get into the ThunderClan camp?”

  Tree narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “You have a friend there, don’t you?”

  Rootpaw fluffed out his fur indignantly. “Bristlefrost is not a friend. She’s just a cat I know.”

  The ghost’s eyes sparked with hope. “You can visit her, though.”

  “Not without getting into trouble!” Rootpaw glared at it.

  Tree pricked his ears. “What did Bramblestar say?”

  Rootpaw had forgotten that his father couldn’t hear Bramblestar’s ghost. “He thinks I should visit Bristlefrost.”

  “Maybe not visit her, exactly,” Tree mewed. “But she might be able to help when you get there.”

  “How do I get there?” Rootpaw’s heart was pounding. They were both acting like this was easy.

  “You’ll have to sneak in,” Bramblestar’s ghost told him.

  “Sneak in?” Rootpaw stared at the ghost, hardly able to believe his ears. A Clan leader was telling him to break the warrior code.

  “I can help you,” the ghost pressed. “I know the territory. I can show you how to get to the camp without being seen.” It turned and headed along the hilltop. “Come on. We should go now. There’s no time to waste.”

  Rootpaw blinked desperately at his father. “He wants me to go to the ThunderClan camp now,” he breathed. “He says he can help me get there without being seen.”

  “You should go,” Tree told him. “If another spirit is using Bramblestar’s body, the Clans might be in danger.” He fixed Rootpaw’s gaze solemnly. “I know he’s asking you to do something dangerous and difficult, but I think you should try. If you get in trouble, I’ll do everything I can to help you. But I know you can do this. Squirrelflight needs to know, and if any cat can persuade her, you can.”

  Rootpaw stared into Tree’s eyes, his heart pounding. Tree was right. If Bramblestar’s ghost needed help, he should help it. He nodded to his father. “I’ll do it.”

  Bramblestar’s ghost was already disappearing over the crest of the hill. “Hurry up!” he yowled.

  “Take care of yourself!”

  Tree’s mew rang out across the grass as Rootpaw bounded to follow Bramblestar’s ghost downslope.

  Rootpaw’s ears twitched nervously as he stepped across the ThunderClan border.

  “This way.” Bramblestar’s ghost was barely visible in the shadowy forest as it hurried past a wide swath of brambles and stopped where the forest floor sloped into a lake of bracken.

  Rootpaw hurried after it, keeping close as the apparition led him among the stems.

  His nose twitched as ThunderClan scents bathed his muzzle. “Is there a patrol nearby?”

  “I’ll scout ahead.” Bramblestar’s ghost signaled for him to stay where he was with a flick of its tail and disappeared. Rootpaw waited, his breath shallow with fear until the ghost finally returned. “It’s clear all the way to the bluebell glade. Quick.”

  As Bramblestar moved silently through the stems, Rootpaw followed, wishing his pelt didn’t make them rustle.

  “Stop.” The ghost’s order sent alarm spiking through Rootpaw’s chest. He froze as the ghost pulled up and peered from the undergrowth. “Patrol.”

  Rootpaw pressed his belly to the earth, holding his breath as paw steps sounded in the distance. He was trembling by the time they’d passed and faded.

  “Up here.” Bramblestar’s ghost climbed effortlessly into an oak and disappeared among the branches. Rootpaw followed, scanning the forest as he heaved himself up. The ghost’s pelt was barely visible in the shadows as Rootpaw followed it along a branch, and he watched, alarmed, as it leaped into the next tree. Teetering on the end, Rootpaw stared at the forest floor. He mustn’t fall. There was no cat here to help him. He bunched up his muscles, then leaped, digging his claws deep into the bark as he landed. The branch trembled beneath him, and he clung on tight until it stopped shaking.

  Bramblestar’s ghost was already hurrying along it, past the trunk and onto the next branch. Rootpaw’s heart was pounding as he followed the apparition from one tree to the next, thankful for his SkyClan training. He’d never traveled so far in trees before, and by the time he finally leaped down onto the forest floor, his pelt was spiked with fear.

  “The camp’s not far,” Bramblestar told him.

  Rootpaw swallowed back his dread. If this was scary, what would it be like to sneak into ThunderClan’s camp? He hurried after the ghost as it ducked beneath a bramble.

  “Squeeze under here,” it ordered. Rootpaw ducked down and hauled himself beneath the low bush, wincing as the prickles snagged his fur. He was sharply aware of the branches pressing around him. He was so far from home. His fear started to spiral. What am I doing? What if his fur got caught? Who’d drag him to safety? Not the ghost. The ghost couldn’t touch him. Panicking, he scrabbled forward, desperate to be out in the open. At least there he would be able to see where he was.

  “Slow down!” The ghost’s fur shimmered among the stems. Alarm edged its mew.

  “I’ve got to get out of here.” Blood roared in Rootpaw’s ears. He could hardly breathe beneath this dusty bush. Why had he agreed to such a dangerous mission? You’ll be okay, he told himself. You’re not trying to hurt any cat. This isn’t your fault. He saw open forest and made for it. As he hauled himself out, relief swept through him. He gulped in fresh air.

  “Wait!” The ghost’s cry rang in his ears as sharp, strong ThunderClan scent bathed his tongue.

  “What are you doing here?” He heard Molewhisker’s mew, his pelt spiking as he jerked around and found himself facing a ThunderClan patrol. Bristlefrost, Finleap, and Molewhisker were staring at him with wide, round eyes.

  Molewhiske
r flattened his ears. Finleap’s pelt bristled with hostility. As Bristlefrost blinked at him, Rootpaw shrank away, his heart sinking like a stone in his chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He hadn’t even made it to the ThunderClan camp. He stared helplessly at Mousewhisker, feeling Bristlefrost’s gaze burning his pelt. He looked around quickly for Bramblestar’s ghost but saw nothing. Turning back to Molewhisker, he tried to stop himself from shaking. “I’m sorry,” he mewed.

  Molewhisker glanced at Bristlefrost, accusation flashing in his eyes. “Did you know he was coming?”

  Bristlefrost stiffened. “No! I’d never break the code like that.”

  Molewhisker nodded curtly and looked back at Rootpaw. The anger in his gaze made Rootpaw’s pads prick with fear. “We’d better take you to Bramblestar,” the ThunderClan warrior growled. “You can explain to him what you’re doing on our land.” He nudged Rootpaw forward roughly.

  Rootpaw padded stiffly ahead, aware of the eyes of the ThunderClan patrol burning into his pelt as they fanned out around him. Dread gripped his belly. Why had he listened to his father and the ghost? They weren’t the ones who’d have to face Bramblestar. He forced himself not to tremble, suddenly aware that he’d made a terrible mistake.

  Chapter 11

  Bristlefrost followed Molewhisker and Finleap as her Clanmates escorted Rootpaw toward camp. Her pelt rippled uneasily along her spine. She didn’t want to walk too close to the SkyClan apprentice in case they thought she’d had something to do with his sudden appearance on ThunderClan territory. Why in StarClan had he come? It had been uncomfortable enough last time, when Leafstar had allowed him to bring her prey as thanks for saving him from the lake. Bristlefrost had hoped that would be the last time he’d do anything so mouse-brained, but clearly his crush on her was worse than she’d thought. Her ears twitched self-consciously. She liked him, he was nice enough, but they were from different Clans. And he was only an apprentice. She could never have any special feelings for him.

  She fluffed out her fur. What would Bramblestar say? He’d been trying to stop the Clans from breaking the warrior code, and Rootpaw had broken one of the most important rules of all. This was ThunderClan land. He shouldn’t be here. She hoped with an anxious shiver that Bramblestar wouldn’t jump to the same conclusion as Molewhisker and assume that she’d asked him to meet her here.

  No cat spoke as the patrol neared the camp entrance. Rootpaw’s tail was bushed, and she guessed he was scared. She hoped he had a good reason for being here. As she slid through the shadowy entrance tunnel and emerged into sunshine, Bramblestar got up from where he’d been lying beneath the Highledge. Squirrelflight was beside him, her tail flicking absently until she saw the patrol. Then she leaped to her paws, her gaze brightening with interest. She followed Bramblestar as he crossed the clearing and stopped in front of the patrol.

  The ThunderClan leader’s gaze flitted over Rootpaw before settling on Molewhisker. “What is he doing here?” His mew was sharp with anger.

  “He won’t say.” Molewhisker told the ThunderClan leader. “Bristlefrost knows him better than I do.” He looked pointedly at Bristlefrost. “Perhaps she can explain.”

  This has nothing to do with me! Her heart quickened as Squirrelflight padded closer, narrowing her eyes. Around the camp, ThunderClan warriors turned to watch, their gazes flashing with curiosity. Outside the elders’ den Cloudtail and Brackenfur exchanged glances. Fernsong padded from a patch of long grass, while Spotfur looked up from the mouse she’d been eating beside the rock tumble.

  Bristlefrost lifted her chin defensively. “I don’t know why he’s here,” she told Bramblestar. “He was hiding under a bramble near our camp.”

  “By trespassing on our territory, he’s broken the code.” Bramblestar’s eyes flashed dangerously. “If we want StarClan to come back, the code must be followed exactly!”

  Rootpaw seemed to shrink beneath his pelt.

  Say something! She wished Rootpaw would defend himself. He must have a reason for coming here. “He’s just an apprentice,” she mewed, hoping Bramblestar would go easy on him. “He probably just made a mistake.”

  Bramblestar’s ears flattened. “It’s a long way to come for a mistake.”

  Squirrelflight whisked her tail. “Why don’t we try asking?”

  Rootpaw suddenly straightened and turned his head as though he’d just spotted prey beside him. He pricked his ears, his attention focused on the empty air. Had he forgotten where he was? Didn’t he realize Bramblestar was expecting an explanation?

  “Well?” Bramblestar glared at the SkyClan apprentice. “What are you doing on my land?”

  Rootpaw jerked his muzzle toward the ThunderClan leader, but Bristlefrost couldn’t help noticing that his ears were still turned toward the patch of empty air, as though he were listening for something. He hesitated, staring distractedly at Bramblestar while above the camp a starling’s call rang in the silence.

  Bramblestar shifted his paws, his gaze growing darker.

  At last, Rootpaw seemed to focus. “I thought I smelled rogues on the edge of our border. I was worried they might cause trouble.” He didn’t take his gaze from Bramblestar. Bristlefrost frowned. What was he going on about? Why did rogues on SkyClan’s border mean he had to visit ThunderClan? Bramblestar was never going to believe such a vague story. Rootpaw pressed on. “It’s not long since you helped chase off that group of she-cats . . .” He hesitated, frowning. “What were they called? I can’t remember the name.”

  Bristlefrost’s tail twitched uneasily. The Sisters! How could any cat forget their name? Especially Rootpaw! They’d lived in his camp after the battle.

  Rootpaw was staring expectantly at Bramblestar. “Were they called the Queens?” He blinked at the ThunderClan leader. It sounded like he was testing him, Bristlefrost realized. “Was that the name? Their leader was called Moonlight. . . .”

  “What in StarClan are you babbling on about?” Bramblestar growled.

  Rootpaw’s fur prickled. “I was just trying to remember the name of those cats—”

  “What does that have to do with your being on ThunderClan territory?”

  “I—I just thought you’d know since . . .” Rootpaw’s mew trailed away as Bramblestar stared at the SkyClan apprentice, his dark gaze glittering with fury.

  Squirrelflight blinked at Bramblestar in surprise. “Surely you remember, Bramblestar.”

  Bristlefrost shifted her paws. It did seem strange that Bramblestar had forgotten. Squirrelflight’s support of the Sisters had caused such a rift between her and Bramblestar that the whole Clan had felt the strain.

  “I can’t remember everything that happens!” Bramblestar snapped. He turned back to Rootpaw. “You’re living on their land. If you can’t remember their name, why should I?”

  Bristlefrost stepped forward. “The Sisters,” she mewed. “They called themselves Sisters.”

  Around the camp, she saw her Clanmates shift nervously. Spotfur hooked her mouse closer, her tail twitching. Molewhisker glanced at the ground as though embarrassed for his leader.

  Rootpaw looked relieved. “The Sisters. Of course. I thought you’d want to know they could still be hanging around.”

  Bramblestar’s ears were flat. Hostility burned in his eyes. “Why not tell your own leader?” he snarled.

  Rootpaw pricked his ears innocently, but his tail was still bushed. Bristlefrost could see he was scared. “I know how close Squirrelflight was to them,” he offered.

  Bramblestar looked perplexed.

  Rootpaw went on. “I thought I’d be doing you a favor.”

  “Doing me a favor?” Bramblestar padded closer to Rootpaw, his hackles lifting. Bristlefrost held her breath. He looked like he might attack the SkyClan apprentice. “You trespass on my land and question me in my own camp, and then you tell me you’re doing me a favor?”

  Rootpaw flinched away, alarm flashing in his eyes.

  Molewhisker padded forward and stood beside the young
tom. “He’s just making up stories to explain why he’s here.” He eyed Bramblestar nervously. The ThunderClan leader looked ready to fight. “It’s probably the same reason he came last time. Every cat knows he has a crush on Bristlefrost. He probably just wanted to see her.”

  Shame seared Bristlefrost’s pelt. “That’s not true!” she meowed hotly.

  Molewhisker stared at the SkyClan apprentice encouragingly. “Even if Bristlefrost knew nothing about it, you know what young cats are like when they like some cat. They act first and think later.”

  Bramblestar’s hackles lowered a little. “Is it true?” he asked Rootpaw. “Did you come to see Bristlefrost?”

  Rootpaw blinked at him as though he were staring into the eyes of a Thunderpath monster. “Y-yes,” he stammered. “That’s it. I just wanted to say hi to Bristlefrost.”

  Bristlefrost stiffened with rage as her Clanmates’ gaze focused on her. She could see Finleap’s whiskers trembling with amusement. Bristlefrost felt so humiliated that she wanted to hide in her den. She glared at Rootpaw. Why did he have to embarrass her like this, and in front of her leader? Did he think a stunt like this would make her like him? Did he have bees in his brain?

  Squirrelflight padded to Bramblestar’s side and ran her tail along his spiked pelt. “He’s just a foolish apprentice,” she told him. “We all do dumb stuff when we’re young. Go easy on him. Let’s just escort him off our territory and forget about it.”

  Bramblestar growled softly, his expression still as dark as when he had punished Spotfur and Lionblaze. If he could be so hard on his own warriors, what would he do to a cat from another Clan?

  “It’s not against the code to have feelings,” Squirrelflight pressed. “And that’s all it is. I’m sure Rootpaw and Bristlefrost haven’t done anything—”

  “Of course not!” Bristlefrost snapped. “It’s his crush, not mine! And I’d never break the warrior code.” She looked earnestly at Bramblestar, ignoring Rootpaw’s tail as it drooped.