Bramblestar's Storm Page 13

  Now enemies can’t sneak up on us, and neither can the flood!

  But the makeshift nests weren’t comfortable; the moss and leaves were damp in spite of Daisy’s efforts, and there wasn’t enough to go around. Even worse, a chilly draft whistled down the tunnel, lifting the cats’ fur.

  “Can’t we go deeper into the tunnels?” Spiderleg asked Bramblestar. “That wind is freezing my ears off.”

  “No, we can’t,” Bramblestar told him. “We can’t risk the river in the cave rising any higher.”

  Spiderleg twitched his tail-tip. He didn’t argue, but Bramblestar heard him grumbling to himself as he curled up in his nest.

  Eventually Bramblestar fell into an uneasy doze, and woke to see gray light flooding through the entrance. The Clan was rousing around him, looking tired and rumpled. But at least they’re all alive.

  Bramblestar stood up and arched his back in a long stretch, trying not to wince as his muscles protested. At the entrance he spotted Squirrelflight with a number of cats clustered around her.

  “We need hunting patrols,” she was meowing. “Sandstorm, will you lead one? And you, Mousewhisker . . . and Brightheart.”

  Bramblestar relaxed from his stretch and stepped through the scattered bedding to join her. “We only need one border patrol,” he meowed. “I’ll lead it.”

  Squirrelflight dipped her head. “Sure, Bramblestar. Which cats do you want?”

  Bramblestar thought quickly. “Dovewing, Graystripe, and Thornclaw,” he decided. All levelheaded cats who can cope with whatever we find.

  Venturing out at the head of his patrol, Bramblestar discovered that a light rain was falling, and a stiff breeze blew clouds across the sky, carrying the scent of the sun-drown-place from the lake. But the worst of the storm was over, and above his head he spotted an occasional glimpse of blue.

  “We’ll avoid the WindClan border for today,” he meowed. “I need to think before we tackle that problem. Let’s go the other way and see what we can find out about ShadowClan.”

  The patrol scrambled through the drenched forest toward the ShadowClan border. The water had risen to cover the old Thunderpath that led past the Twoleg den, leaving only a short stretch of the ShadowClan border still visible. Bramblestar ordered Thornclaw to renew the ThunderClan scent markers, but he couldn’t detect any fresh ShadowClan scent.

  “They haven’t sent a patrol this way,” he remarked. “We’d better cross the border and find out what’s going on.”

  “I hope they’re okay,” Dovewing murmured.

  Briefly Bramblestar wondered why the young she-cat should be so anxious about their neighbors, then dismissed the thought. I’m anxious about them myself.

  “It all looks so different,” Dovewing mewed as they took their first paw steps into ShadowClan territory. “I have no idea which way we should go.”

  “We can’t get lost if we keep to the edge of the water,” Graystripe pointed out. “And it’s no use thinking we can keep to the safe ground three tail-lengths from the lakeshore.” His mouth twisted in wry amusement. “The safe ground is right in the middle of ShadowClan territory now.”

  Looking around as he led the way along the waterline, Bramblestar tried to figure out where they were. On one side pine-covered slopes stretched upward. He could just make out the walls of the Twoleg den among the trees, and he wondered if the flood had reached the two hostile kittypets that gave ShadowClan so much trouble. On the other side stretched the floodwater, the gray surface interrupted by the dark pointed tops of pine trees. There was something familiar about the way the ground dipped toward the flood, and the shape of the bramble thicket ahead of them.

  Bramblestar’s belly lurched. We’re above the ShadowClan camp! The whole of their hollow is filled with water!

  The rest of his patrol had realized it too.

  “So where are the cats?” Dovewing asked, working her claws in the soggy ground. “Something awful must have happened to them!”

  As if they had heard her speaking, a ShadowClan patrol sprang out from behind a cluster of fir trees. Scorchfur was in the lead, with Pinenose and Ferretclaw just behind him. Ferretclaw’s apprentice, Spikepaw, brought up the rear.

  “What are you doing here?” Scorchfur demanded, racing up to the ThunderClan patrol. “Get out!”

  Bramblestar dipped his head, keen to avoid a hostile confrontation like the one with WindClan the day before. “We’re just making sure you survived the flood,” he replied. “We got worried when there were no fresh scent marks along your border.”

  “ShadowClan doesn’t need ThunderClan to worry about us!” Scorchfur hissed.

  “And we’re on our way to set the scent markers now,” Pinenose added, her black fur bristling.

  For all their brave words, Bramblestar thought that the ShadowClan cats looked scared out of their fur, their eyes wide, their gazes darting from side to side as if they expected an enemy to pounce on them from out of the nearest cover. “I’m sorry about your camp,” he mewed, waving his tail toward the swirling water that filled the dip. “We’ve lost our home, too.”

  “We don’t want your sympathy,” Scorchfur snarled. “We’re fine. And if you think we’re going to tell you where we’re living now, think again!”

  If you’re fine, why do you look so distraught? Bramblestar wondered. Aloud he meowed, “I wouldn’t dream of asking. Just tell me one thing: Is Tawnypelt okay?”

  “And your other Clanmates?” Dovewing put in quickly.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Ferretclaw gave a reluctant nod. “We’re all okay.”

  “And hedgehogs fly,” Thornclaw muttered from behind Bramblestar, who gave him a warning flick of his ears.

  “We want to cross your territory to check on RiverClan,” Bramblestar meowed. “Do we have your permission, as long as we stay inside three fox-lengths from the edge of the water?”

  “I suppose so,” Scorchfur growled. “If it’ll get you off our territory sooner.”

  With another respectful dip of his head Bramblestar turned to go, waving his tail for his patrol to follow.

  “RiverClan won’t thank you for interfering!” Ferretclaw called after them. “You’ve got no right to act like ThunderClan is here to save us all!”

  Ignoring the parting shot, Bramblestar led his patrol farther along the water’s edge to where the Twoleg half bridge had once reached out into the lake—now covered now by many tail-lengths of water.

  “You know something?” Graystripe meowed, padding along beside Bramblestar. “When you asked about Tawnypelt, Ferretclaw said that all the cats are okay, but none of them ever mentioned Blackstar. If you ask me, those are cats who are mourning their leader.”

  Bramblestar halted, staring at the gray warrior in alarm. “Great StarClan! Do you really think Blackstar lost his ninth life in the storm?” If a Clan leader has died, the rest of us need to know! But he was sure that he wouldn’t be welcome if he tried to find the place where ShadowClan was sheltering. He would have to wait for them to bring him any news.

  Still following the waterline, the patrol emerged from the trees some way inland from the half bridge. The small wooden Twoleg dens on the lakeshore were completely submerged except for the pointed tops of their roofs. Because the ground was flatter here, the floodwater had reached a long way up the narrow Thunderpath. The smooth silver surface stretched ahead of them, covering everything that had been there before. It was impossible to tell what was happening over in RiverClan territory.

  “We need to get some height,” Bramblestar muttered.

  Clawing his way up a pine tree, he edged out along a branch until he could see to the farthest end of the lake. Where the RiverClan camp had stood between two streams, circled by bushes, there was nothing but shining gray water.

  Graystripe scrambled up after Bramblestar and gazed over his shoulder. “StarClan help them!” he breathed. “Are they all dead?”

  Bramblestar didn’t know. Leaping down from the tree, he gathered his patrol a
round him. “There’s no sign of RiverClan,” he meowed. “We have to find out what happened to them.”

  Thornclaw looked doubtful. “That ShadowClan warrior was right. It’s not up to ThunderClan to save every cat.”

  Bramblestar met his gaze. “If we can save one life, StarClan would want us to try,” he insisted. “We’ve been lucky in the storm. RiverClan hasn’t.”

  Thornclaw shrugged, though he still didn’t look happy.

  Bramblestar began looking for a way to cross the flooded Thunderpath. The water was too deep and swift moving to swim across close to where the RiverClan camp used to be. “We’ll have to head farther away from the lake,” he decided.

  “That’s going to bring us close to the Twoleg dens,” Graystripe pointed out. “Are we prepared for that?”

  “We have to be,” Bramblestar replied. “And if you ask me, the Twolegs have more to worry about right now than a few cats.”

  The four warriors trekked along the line of the Thunderpath, as close as they could get without wetting their paws. When the Twoleg nests came into sight they were still and silent, with strange Twoleg things bobbing about in the water between them.

  “This is weird,” Dovewing mewed, shivering. “But at least it doesn’t look like there are any Twolegs around.”

  “Let’s find a way across,” Bramblestar announced, trying to sound more confident than he felt. The vast expanses of water all around them unnerved him, too.

  “Do you think we should go back and get more cats?” Graystripe suggested.

  Bramblestar shook his head. “We might not have time. We don’t know what we’re going to find in RiverClan.”

  “And I’m sure ShadowClan would be so pleased to see ThunderClan marching back and forth across their territory,” Thornclaw added.

  Bramblestar padded as close as he could get to the nearest Twoleg den. The water lapped at the wall, high enough that the den must be flooded inside, deeper than a cat could walk. The cats clearly weren’t going to get across to RiverClan territory without getting wet, but could they avoid having to swim all the way? Bramblestar spotted a dark line that seemed to surround the nest just below the surface of the water. He realized that it must be a fence stretching around the square of grass and flowers, like the fences on the border with the old forest.

  “Look,” he mewed, pointing with his tail. “If we can reach that, we can walk along the top and get as far as the Thunderpath.”

  “And then?” Thornclaw meowed.

  “Swim across, and hope there’s another fence on the other side.” Bramblestar looked at his patrol, knowing he was leading them into danger. What if I lose one of them? But he also knew that he couldn’t turn around and go back to ThunderClan without finding out what had happened to the cats of RiverClan.

  Not giving himself time to change his mind, Bramblestar waded into the water, then swam until he reached the barrier. As he had hoped, it was a wooden fence. He managed to claw his way up it; when he stood on the top, the water reached halfway up his legs.

  “It’s okay!” he called, waving his tail for the others to join him. But the top of the fence was narrow, and with the water lapping and sucking at his legs, it was hard to keep his balance. The fence shuddered as the next cat reached it; Bramblestar stifled a screech of shock as his hind paws slipped, and only just stopped himself from sliding back into the flood.

  Behind him he heard Thornclaw hiss, “Fox dung!” but when Bramblestar looked back he realized that the tabby warrior was still upright on the fence, and the other cats were managing to follow him. The water distorted Bramblestar’s view of the fence, but he figured out a way of putting his paws down in a straight line while he balanced with his tail. Step by step he made his way to the other end of the fence, overlooking the submerged Thunderpath.

  When he reached it, he was puzzled by the sight of a flat red object under the water a mouse-length below where he was standing. Examining it more closely, he realized what it was.

  “There’s a drowned monster here!” he exclaimed.

  Thornclaw, who was just behind him, peered over his shoulder. “Creepy!” he commented.

  Bramblestar looked down at the monster. If they jumped onto it, they could be several paw steps closer to RiverClan before they had to swim. But what if it wakes up? He studied the edges of the top of the monster carefully. There were no air bubbles, no signs of movement, nothing to suggest that it was still alive.

  “Come on,” he called to the others. “This way!”

  “Are you mouse-brained?” Thornclaw asked. “Jump on top of a monster?”

  “It’s underwater, and I’m sure monsters can’t swim like fishes,” Bramblestar pointed out. Without giving Thornclaw time to argue, he launched himself onto the top of the monster. As he splashed down, the hard surface lurched beneath his paws, and panic stabbed through him as he fought for balance.

  It’s alive!

  But then the rocking motion steadied. Bramblestar stood still for a moment while his heart stopped thumping. “It’s fine,” he meowed breathlessly. “Follow me.”

  Thornclaw, Dovewing, and Graystripe jumped onto the monster behind him, gasping as the creature swayed beneath their paws. It was impossible to sink in their claws and get a secure grip, so Bramblestar started moving as soon as Graystripe reached them, sliding his feet one by one across the slippery surface.

  At the far end of the monster, it was clear they would have to swim across the deep water that covered the Thunderpath. But Bramblestar could just make out another fence leading away on the other side, past a Twoleg den toward the fields beyond RiverClan’s territory.

  “Aim for that fence over there,” he meowed, pointing with his tail. “Swim!”

  “Oh, StarClan,” Dovewing muttered, but she launched herself into the water and started paddling strongly.

  Bramblestar reached the fence first and helped his Clanmates clamber onto it, water streaming from their pelts. The Twoleg dens here were joined together in a long line. The fence where they were clinging ran past the dens at one end, and by following it they could make their way around the back. Bramblestar led the way, finding it easier now to push his legs through the water and keep his footing on the narrow strip of submerged wood.

  The cats sploshed their way past the Twoleg dens and stopped at the edge of the enclosed grass, looking out over a field to the place where RiverClan had once lived—but now it was just a stretch of shining water, with the top of a bush poking up here and there.

  “It’s gone!” Thornclaw whispered. “Their whole territory is underwater!”

  “There’s no way they could survive that much flooding,” Graystripe meowed.

  “Wait!” Dovewing mewed. “You were at the Gathering, weren’t you? I wasn’t there, but Ivypool told me about it. Didn’t Mistystar say they’d already moved their dens away from the edge of the lake? She didn’t say where, but is it possible they were far enough away to escape the flood?”

  Bramblestar nodded. “You could be right. We have to find out!”

  He looked down into the field. Long strands of grass drifted on top of the water, like weeds in a stream. Bramblestar was pretty sure the cats wouldn’t be too far out of their depth now. The land had risen up slightly since the Thunderpath, and continued to rise until he could see a ridge of turf poking above the flood near the center of the field. He took a deep breath and leaped off the fence.

  There was a mighty splash as he landed, but to his relief his paws struck a firm bed of grass, and when he straightened up the water only reached up to his belly fur. Without waiting for an order, the other cats jumped down beside him.

  “Great StarClan!” Graystripe exclaimed. “It’s good to have my paws on the ground again.”

  Bramblestar agreed, though it was still uncomfortable to wade through the flood and feel their paws sinking into sodden grass. He wasn’t looking forward to licking himself clean after this was over.

  A stream ran along the far side of the field, thou
gh it had spilled over its banks, covering everything with a gray sheen. Bramblestar headed for the ridge that was clear of the flood. The water rapidly grew shallower until they were wading out onto the grass with droplets streaming from their fur.

  “At last!” Graystripe exclaimed. “I thought I was turning into a fish.”

  Thornclaw snorted. “You realize we’ve got to go through all this again on the way back? You’ve still got a chance to grow fins and scales.”

  Farther up the ridge, as it curved toward the far corner of the field, there was a clump of low, leafless bushes. Bramblestar spotted a flash of movement underneath. He tensed, and stopped to taste the air. Beneath the now-familiar tang of the sun-drown-place, he thought he could detect RiverClan scent. Signaling with his tail for his patrol to keep close to him, Bramblestar crept forward. As they approached, two RiverClan cats rushed out of the thicket and halted in front of the ThunderClan patrol with fur bristling and eyes glaring. Bramblestar recognized the Clan deputy, Reedwhisker, and the black she-cat Shimmerpelt.

  “Stop!” Reedwhisker growled. “What are—” He broke off, relaxing. “Oh, it’s you! We thought you were rogues.”

  “Thank StarClan, you survived!” Dovewing gasped.

  “Only just,” Shimmerpelt mewed with a shudder.

  Now that he was closer, Bramblestar realized the bushes were heaving with mews and scuffling sounds. The scent of RiverClan was much stronger here.

  “I’ll tell Mistystar you’re here,” Reedwhisker meowed, vanishing into the brambles.

  A moment later the RiverClan leader emerged, with Mothwing, the RiverClan medicine cat, just behind her. In spite of everything, Mistystar looked calm and sleek, her blue-gray fur neatly groomed.

  She dipped her head. “Greetings, Bramblestar. It’s good to see you. You must have had a struggle to get here.”