Bramblestar's Storm Page 8

  Bramblestar darted forward just in time to break her fall. She slammed into him, knocking him to the ground, and his head cracked against the stone floor. Darkness sparkled over Bramblestar’s vision. Voices echoed around him, seeming to come from a long way off. Am I losing a life? he wondered.

  Then the voices sounded more clearly and he recognized the tones of Cherryfall and Mousewhisker.

  “Are you okay? I’m sorry I let you fall.”

  “Oof—all the breath’s knocked out of me! But I’m fine, I think.”

  Then another voice, more distant, joined them. “What’s going on in there?”

  Bramblestar sat up groggily. His vision cleared and he saw Ivypool peering through the entrance to the den, with her patrol clustered anxiously behind her.

  “Cherryfall fell off the branch up there,” Bumblestripe explained. “Bramblestar was great—he broke her fall.”

  Ivypool’s eyes stretched wide. “Are you hurt?” she mewed. “You should go straight back to camp and let Jayfeather check you out.”

  “There’s no need,” Bramblestar protested, rising to his paws. The walls of the den whirled around him.

  “And hedgehogs can fly,” Ivypool retorted. “You can barely stand. And don’t try to hide your paw from me, Cherryfall. I can see the blood on it.”

  “It’s only a ripped claw,” Cherryfall muttered.

  “It needs treating!” Ivypool hissed.

  Bramblestar sighed. “Okay, Ivypool, keep your fur on. We’ll go back. But I still want that mouse caught. Mousewhisker and Bumblestripe, you can stay here and try again.”

  Bumblestripe nodded. “We’ll get it, don’t worry.”

  Bramblestar led the way out of the den with Cherryfall limping behind him. Ivypool and her patrol flanked them as they returned to the camp.

  “Any sign of WindClan on the border?” Bramblestar asked Ivypool.

  “Not a sniff,” the silver-and-white tabby told him. “As far as we can scent anything in this wind. We didn’t spot any more of those white birds, either.”

  Back in the hollow, Bramblestar sent Cherryfall to her nest, then headed for the medicine cats’ den. Both Jayfeather and Leafpool were there, sorting piles of herbs.

  “How am I supposed to keep my stocks tidy when the wind is this bad?” Jayfeather was grumbling as Bramblestar brushed past the bramble screen. “I no sooner put a stem down, when it’s gone.”

  “We need to do this as fast as we can, and then shove everything down to the bottom of the cleft,” Leafpool meowed.

  Jayfeather snorted. “And what do you want?” he asked, looking up at Bramblestar with his intense blue gaze. “Not another skirmish with WindClan?”

  “No,” Bramblestar replied. He explained what had happened at the Twoleg nest. “Cherryfall has a ripped claw,” he finished. “I sent her to rest in the warriors’ den. Leafpool, I thought you could take a look at her there.”

  Jayfeather’s eyes narrowed. “Are you the ThunderClan medicine cat, Bramblestar, or am I?” He sighed. “Okay, Leafpool. Better take some marigold, if it hasn’t all blown away.”

  When Leafpool had slipped out carrying the herbs, Jayfeather faced Bramblestar again. “Go on, then,” he meowed. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “How do you know I—”

  “You sent Leafpool away deliberately, right? Don’t waste my time, Bramblestar.”

  “It’s about the omen,” Bramblestar began. “Was this the disaster we were warned about? I saved Cherryfall—does that mean I defeated the omen?”

  Jayfeather looked thoughtful. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “With all this wind, it’s impossible to think straight.”

  “Then you can’t help?” Bramblestar asked.

  “With the omen? No. But I can still help with your injuries. Sit still while I examine you.”

  Bramblestar’s paws were itching to get back to his patrol, but he forced himself to wait while Jayfeather ran his paws expertly over him.

  “You’ve got a bump on your head,” the medicine cat mewed. “And does it hurt when I do this?” He gave Bramblestar a sharp prod in the shoulder.

  “Ow! Yes, it does.”

  “Thought so,” Jayfeather grunted. “You’ll have some pain there for a day or two, but it’s not serious. A poppy seed should ease it.”

  “No, thanks,” Bramblestar meowed. “I’ll put up with the pain so I can keep a clear head.”

  Jayfeather shrugged. “Suit yourself. Tell me if you change your mind.”

  Bramblestar thanked the medicine cat and padded out into the clearing again. Squirrelflight’s hunting patrol had just returned, but their jaws were empty.

  “It’s hopeless!” Squirrelflight declared, her fur bristling. “I think the wind has blown all the prey out of the forest.”

  We’ll go hungry tonight, Bramblestar thought. I hope Bumblestripe and Mousewhisker managed to catch that mouse. Slipping into the warriors’ den to check on Cherryfall, he found the young cat drowsy from poppy seed. Leafpool had put a poultice of marigold leaves on her injured paw and was stroking the warrior’s fur while she went to sleep.

  Bramblestar retreated quietly and crossed the clearing to the elders’ den, where Purdy, his tabby pelt ruffled by the wind, was busy plugging the drafts with long tendrils of bramble.

  “The apprentices should be helping you with that,” Bramblestar meowed.

  “I can manage fine,” Purdy puffed. “I don’t need no young cats runnin’ around after me. They’ve better things to do.”

  But Bramblestar could see that the old tabby was looking tired, and the brambles were catching in his matted tabby fur. Backing out of the den, he beckoned with his tail to Lilypaw and Seedpaw, who were collecting sticks and dead leaves from the floor of the camp.

  “Go and help Purdy, please,” he meowed when they came bounding up. “His den needs wind-proofing, and then you could see if there’s any fresh-kill left for him.”

  “Sure, Bramblestar,” Lilypaw chirped.

  Bramblestar let out a purr. The two older apprentices are shaping up nicely. Catching sight of Daisy in the entrance to the nursery, he padded over to her.

  “This wind is terrible!” the cream-colored she-cat exclaimed as he approached. “It blows dust into my eyes and fur, and I can’t hear myself think.”

  “It won’t last long, I hope,” Bramblestar mewed. “Daisy, I wonder if you could sleep in Purdy’s den tonight? If anything happens, I don’t want him to be alone.”

  Daisy twitched her whiskers. She knows what I mean. Another falling tree would tear the heart out of this Clan.

  “I’ll go,” Daisy agreed, “but I probably won’t get any sleep, what with the wind and the stench of mouse bile. Honestly, I think every tick in the forest heads straight for Purdy!”

  Bramblestar looked around for Squirrelflight, wondering if it was too late to send out more patrols. Spotting her outside the warriors’ den, he headed toward her, only to be intercepted by Millie.

  “Briarlight is very worried about falling trees,” the gray she-cat told him. “She won’t be able to run away.”

  Looking at Millie’s troubled eyes, and the way she was agitatedly working her claws into the ground, Bramblestar thought that Millie was more terrified than Briarlight for her daughter’s safety. “Okay, I’ll talk to her,” he meowed.

  Millie led him to the fresh-kill pile, where Briarlight was sharing a rather shriveled shrew with Molewhisker.

  “Where would you feel most comfortable sleeping?” Bramblestar asked her.

  Briarlight shivered. “Somewhere there are no trees,” she replied.

  Bramblestar figured that Briarlight might feel safest up on the Highledge, where the rock would shelter her. “You can sleep in my den,” he told her. “Come on, I’ll carry you up there.”

  Briarlight blinked at him in surprise. “Really? Wow!”

  “Thank you, Bramblestar,” purred Millie.

  Feeling slightly embarrassed, Bramblestar crouched down so th
at Briarlight could haul herself onto his back. Molewhisker gave her a boost, and Brackenfur saw what was going on and came to help too. With the toms steadying Briarlight on either side, Bramblestar struggled up the slope of rocks, wincing every time their paws dislodged small stones. Millie brought up the rear, and Bramblestar heard her gasp with alarm at each stone that pattered down into the clearing.

  At last Bramblestar reached his den and settled Briarlight into his nest, pulling the moss and bracken closely around her to make her cozy. “You’d better stay with her, Millie,” he meowed. “Call me if there are any problems. I’ll be in the warriors’ den.”

  “We’ll be just fine here, Bramblestar,” Millie responded. “Thank you so much.”

  Bramblestar headed down into the clearing and found Squirrelflight still sitting outside the warriors’ den, her tail wrapped around her paws.

  “Do you think we should take out another hunting patrol?” he meowed.

  “In this?” Squirrelflight glanced up at the trees, still buffetted by the roaring wind. “No. We’ll just have to go hungry tonight, and hope things are better in the morning.”

  Bramblestar was glad to agree with her. His head and his shoulder were aching, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere and go to sleep.

  “That was very kind, what you did for Briarlight,” Squirrelflight murmured as they slipped inside the warriors’ den.

  Bramblestar felt embarrassed all over again. “It was logical,” he mewed with a shrug.

  As the Clan settled down to sleep, Dustpelt and Brackenfur padded around to check each den, making sure that the branches were woven as securely as they could be, and plugging any new holes with moss and bramble.

  “Don’t stay awake too late,” Bramblestar advised them. “You need your sleep too.”

  Dustpelt didn’t reply. Bramblestar suppressed a sigh. He wondered if the tabby tom was deliberately working himself into exhaustion to have a chance of sleeping in his empty nest.

  Though his mossy bed was comfortable, Bramblestar found it hard to sleep because of the noise of the wind. He couldn’t stop listening out for the creaking sound that would warn of a tree about to fall. But at the same time he enjoyed hearing the breathing of his Clanmates and seeing their furry shapes in the dim light. He realized for the first time how much he missed their company when he was sleeping alone in his den on the Highledge.

  If I had a mate, I wouldn’t be alone, he thought, then gave himself a shake. There’s no point dwelling on that.

  Finally Bramblestar gave up his attempt to sleep and crept into the clearing. He staggered as the force of the wind hit him, with a slap of rain that probed his pelt with icy claws. Recovering himself, he began to pad around the camp.

  Purdy’s voice came from the elders’ den. “So, I says to the dog, ‘Listen, flea-pelt, this is my garden, so take your stench-ridden body out of here.’ ”

  “Wow . . .” Daisy’s voice sounded so drowsy that Bramblestar thought she was talking in her sleep. “How brave of you.”

  Moving on, Bramblestar paused underneath the Highledge, but couldn’t hear any sound coming from there. I hope that means Briarlight and Millie are asleep. He poked his head into the apprentices’ den and made out five curled-up balls of fur deeply asleep in their thick nests of moss and bracken. All were silent except for Snowpaw, who was snoring loudly. As Bramblestar watched, Lilypaw shot out one hind leg and, without opening her eyes, prodded Snowpaw in the belly. Snowpaw grunted and was quiet.

  Bramblestar sighed with relief. The Clan is safe.

  He still felt restless, so he headed out of the camp with a nod to Thornclaw, who was on guard duty. Even in the shelter of the trees, wind swept cold raindrops into his face as he picked his way through the debris on the forest floor. Stars and the occasional glimmer of moonlight appeared through the racing clouds. Uneasiness stirred in Bramblestar’s belly; in the flickering half light, something looked different.

  Stumbling over fallen branches, Bramblestar made his way closer to the lake. The creaking and clattering trees made him jump, his senses stretched to the edge of panic. The air smells different, too. What’s going on?

  He picked up the pace, desperate to find out if something was threatening his Clan. A tree stump loomed up in front of him; bunching his muscles, he leaped over it. A heartbeat later he landed up to his belly fur in icy water.

  Bramblestar let out a startled screech. But I’m only halfway to the lake!

  For a moment he floundered while the water dragged at him, surging around his legs. With a hiss he dug his claws into the ground and paw step by paw step hauled himself backward up the slope until he was clear of the water. Then he whirled around and raced for the hollow.

  StarClan help us! The lake has flooded!

  CHAPTER 8

  Bramblestar scrambled through the long grass, heavy with rain, back up the slope to the hollow. Thornclaw was still crouched by the entrance; he leaped to his paws and stared in astonishment when he saw Bramblestar, drenched to his skin.

  “What happened?” he demanded.

  “The lake is flooding!” Bramblestar panted. “The water is coming up through the forest.”

  “What? It can’t be!”

  “Come and see.”

  Bramblestar whipped around and led Thornclaw at a run back down the hillside. This time he knew what to expect, and he halted beside the tree stump, right at the edge of the floodwater.

  “Wow!” Thornclaw breathed. “That’s some flood!”

  In the darkness Bramblestar thought there was something sinister about the water, the surface ruffled by the wind and glinting in the light from the stars. Waves slapped against the tree trunks, sucking and gurgling around the roots.

  “What should we do now?” Thornclaw asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Bramblestar admitted. “Let’s get back to the camp and see what the others think.”

  The rain began lashing down more heavily, and by the time Bramblestar and Thornclaw reached the hollow, they were equally soaked through. While Thornclaw went back on watch, Bramblestar slipped inside the warriors’ den and roused Squirrelflight and Brackenfur.

  “What is it?” Squirrelflight muttered, struggling up out of her nest. “A fallen tree?”

  “No, thank StarClan.” Bramblestar gestured toward the entrance to the den. “Come over here where we can talk without waking the others.”

  Brackenfur picked his way among sleeping warriors to join them, disturbing Graystripe on the way. The gray warrior glanced up, and when Bramblestar beckoned to him, he hauled himself out of his nest and padded over to the little group by the entrance.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked with a massive yawn.

  Bramblestar explained how the lake water had risen and flooded the forest. “It’s still some way away,” he meowed. “I don’t think it will get this far.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Squirrelflight meowed.

  Bramblestar gazed out across the camp. The clearing was covered with puddles that were starting to run together as the rain hissed down. “We need to decide what to do about hunting and border patrols,” he mewed.

  A screech from the elders’ den interrupted him and Purdy stumbled into the open. “There’s water all down my back!” he yowled.

  Daisy emerged after the elder, her shoulders hunched against the downpour, and began chivvying him across to the nursery.

  At the same moment Bramblestar heard cats stirring in the den behind him, and grunts of complaint as water seeped through the roof and showered the warriors. Cloudtail jumped up and shook himself with a disgusted look at the woven brambles above his head. Rosepetal tried to burrow deeper into the moss to get away from the cold trickles, while Berrynose snarled with annoyance as he squashed himself into a tiny, dry corner.

  “We’re going to be washed out of here,” Bramblestar meowed. “Brackenfur, can you check the other dens, and see if anywhere is watertight?”

  “Sure.” Brackenfur slipped
out into the storm and pelted across to the nursery.

  “Do you think we need to leave the hollow?” Squirrelflight suggested.

  Bramblestar glanced at Graystripe, wondering what he thought.

  Graystripe shook his head. “It’s just as wet out in the forest as it is here,” he pointed out. “And it’s too dark to see where we’re putting our paws.”

  “There’s more danger out there, too,” Bramblestar agreed. “The wind is still strong enough to knock over trees. No, I think we’ll stay put.”

  “What are you going to tell the others about the lake?” Squirrelflight asked.

  Bramblestar hesitated for a moment. “Nothing,” he decided. “They’ll find out soon enough, and there’s no point scaring them in the middle of the night.”

  Squirrelflight didn’t look as if she agreed with him, but she just dipped her head and mewed, “Okay.”

  Behind them in the warriors’ den, more cats were waking as the rain forced its way through the roof. Startled squeals sounded through the darkness.

  “This is no good, Bramblestar,” Cloudtail grumbled, squelching his way through the soaked moss and picking up each paw to shake it. “It’s like trying to sleep under a waterfall!”

  “We’ll all die of greencough at this rate!” Spiderleg called out.

  For a moment Bramblestar didn’t know what to tell his Clanmates. I can’t make it stop raining!

  Just then Brackenfur returned, his pelt drenched and his legs splashed with mud. “The nursery is dry,” he reported. “And so is the apprentices’ den.”

  “Good.” Bramblestar puffed out a breath of relief. “Jayfeather should be able to fit a couple of cats into his cave, and my den on the Highledge will be sheltered, too.” He turned to face the shivering cats in the warriors’ den, raising his voice so they could hear him above the clamor of wind and rain. “We have to move out of this den. Graystripe, take Blossomfall, Dustpelt, and Sandstorm to join Millie and Briarlight in my den. Mentors, you can bed down with your apprentices in their den. Brightheart and Cloudtail, go to Jayfeather. The rest of us will sleep in the nursery.”

  He stood with Squirrelflight at the entrance to the den, watching as his Clanmates darted out into the storm, hunched and miserable. Sandstorm and Dustpelt bounded toward the tumbled rocks, while Berrynose touched noses with Poppyfrost before she scurried off to join her apprentice. Whitewing seemed reluctant to leave Dovewing, who looked spooked by what was happening, as if she was straining to listen to all the forest at once.