Chapter 8
A cold wind swirled around the hollow, and pigeon-gray clouds hung heavily above the camp. Bristlefrost fluffed her fur out to keep herself warm as she tugged a young bramble shoot that was creeping toward the elders’ den. Prickles jabbed her paws, and she leaned down to bite through the young stem where it disappeared into the camp wall. She picked the stem up gingerly between her teeth and carried it to the pile she had made. Finleap and Stormcloud were clearing brambles farther along the wall.
Bristlefrost had organized the dawn patrols, but Squirrelflight had gone back to deciding the patrols for the rest of the day—without telling Bramblestar. So Bristlefrost was busying herself, along with her Clanmates, tidying the camp while she waited for the ThunderClan deputy to emerge from her den. Lionblaze and Spotfur were clearing dusty bedding and old leaves from the nursery while Daisy wove fresh bracken into the roof. Ivypool and Fernsong stripped withered strands of bracken from the walls of the warriors’ den, and Thornclaw and Blossomfall looked for gaps that needed patching in the sides of the apprentices’ den.
Pride warmed Bristlefrost’s pelt. StarClan would be pleased to see ThunderClan working so hard. She wondered if they were watching.
“Bristlefrost!” Finleap called to her. He nodded to a thick bramble snaking past him. Stormcloud was already tugging it with his teeth. “Help us with this one.”
Bristlefrost hurried to join them and grasped the stem carefully between her teeth.
“Pull!” Finleap grabbed it farther along, and together they tugged until, with a jerk, it came away from its root.
As it snapped, pain pierced Bristlefrost’s lip. As Stormcloud dragged the stem to the pile, she sat up, licking blood where a thorn had spiked her. Finleap glanced up at the Highledge.
“Every cat’s working except our leader,” he muttered.
Bristlefrost glanced sharply at the brown tom. Was he criticizing Bramblestar?
Outside the elders’ den, Jayfeather pricked his ears. The blind medicine cat was rubbing goldenrod pulp into Cloudtail’s hind leg to ease an ache. “Perhaps he forgot he was a warrior when he died,” he mewed sourly.
Cloudtail’s eyes glittered nervously. “Careful what you say.” He glanced toward Finleap. “Bramblestar hasn’t been in the best of moods since he lost a life.”
Across the clearing, Lionblaze snorted. “That’s an understatement. I’ve never seen him act like this before. I hope he’s okay.”
“Of course he’s okay.” Stormcloud dropped the bramble stem onto the pile. “Losing a life must be hard, that’s all. We can’t imagine what it’s like.”
Bristlefrost blinked gratefully at the gray tabby. “He just wants us to be the best warriors we can be.” She looked at Finleap. “So StarClan will come back.”
Finleap shrugged. “Bramblestar’s always wanted us to be the best warriors we can be. He’s just going about it in a funny way these days.” He turned and began to tug another bramble stem.
Bristlefrost’s pelt prickled uneasily. Surely Finleap shouldn’t question his leader. StarClan had given Bramblestar nine lives. Wasn’t arguing with him like arguing with StarClan? And since StarClan was still silent, shouldn’t they listen to Bramblestar even more?
On the Highledge, ginger fur rippled at the entrance to Bramblestar’s den. Lionblaze turned quickly back to his work as Squirrelflight padded out and leaped down the rock tumble. She stopped in the clearing and looked around the camp. “Good work, every cat.” As her Clanmates turned to listen, she glanced at the empty fresh-kill pile. “I want two more patrols to go hunting, and another to check the SkyClan border.”
“I’ll go.” Stormcloud hurried toward her.
“Me too.” Ivypool padded from the warriors’ den, Fernsong at her heels.
“I’d be happy to go,” the yellow tom mewed eagerly.
Bristlefrost was pleased to see ThunderClan so keen to support Squirrelflight.
“Happy to go where?” Bramblestar slid out of his den. Fernsong stiffened as the ThunderClan leader leaped from the Highledge and crossed to Squirrelflight’s side.
“Hunting,” Fernsong told him.
“Checking the border,” Ivypool chimed. “Squirrelflight wants to send three more patrols out.”
Bramblestar’s eyes rounded as he looked at Squirrelflight. “Are you organizing patrols again?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I thought we were letting Bristlefrost deal with that.”
Bristlefrost looked up, surprised. Did Bramblestar want her to organize all the patrols? She could if he wanted. As she padded forward to offer, Squirrelflight swished her tail. “Bristlefrost already has enough to do,” she told Bramblestar.
“Then let some cat else organize it,” Bramblestar mewed.
“It’s my responsibility,” Squirrelflight insisted.
“The Clan doesn’t need you to fuss over it like a mother bird,” Bramblestar told her. “A well-run Clan runs itself. Your duty is to support me, your leader.” He gazed into her eyes. “And your mate.”
Squirrelflight’s pelt ruffled along her spine. “I can’t spend every moment cooped up in our den like an elder.”
“What’s the point in being leader and deputy if we have to spend every moment organizing patrols?” Bramblestar’s ears twitched.
Squirrelflight’s gaze hardened. “Our Clan is part of us,” she snapped. “And we’re part of it. Organizing patrols is the least we should do.”
Bristlefrost’s chest tightened as she saw fury flash in Bramblestar’s eyes. It was not so long ago that he and Squirrelflight had had serious disagreements over how to deal with the Sisters, a group of she-cats who’d settled in unclaimed territory that she was scouting as a possible new home for SkyClan. The whole Clan had been worried that their leader and deputy would never recover.
But now Bramblestar’s fury vanished as quickly as it had come, and he dipped his head politely. “I know you worry about our Clanmates,” he mewed smoothly. “But you should have more faith in them. And you really shouldn’t wear yourself out unnecessarily. You went out on two patrols yesterday, and one the day before that. From now on, I want you to stay in camp with me. Leave patrolling to your Clanmates.”
Squirrelflight bristled. “But I like going on patrol. Being a warrior isn’t a chore; it’s an honor. I enjoy it.” She looked at him as though for a moment she didn’t recognize him. “You used to feel the same way.”
“I haven’t changed,” he told her. “But I know now that there are more important things in life than patrolling.”
“The less we do,” Squirrelflight told him, “the more our Clanmates have to do.”
“So?” Bramblestar looked puzzled. “If being a warrior is an honor, let them enjoy it. From now on, spend more time in camp with me.”
Squirrelflight stared at him wordlessly, her tail twitching.
Bramblestar shrugged. “You’d better get used to it.”
As Bramblestar turned away, the camp entrance rattled. Berrynose and Poppyfrost led Cinderheart, Finchpaw, and Rosepetal into camp. Each warrior held prey in their jaws. They carried it to the empty fresh-kill pile and laid it down.
Cloudtail’s eyes lit up eagerly. “At last,” he mewed. “I’m starving.” He began to get to his paws.
Bramblestar narrowed his eyes. “Wait.” He nodded toward the elder.
Bristlefrost pricked her ears. Bramblestar was looking thoughtful. Did he have an idea?
“Elders must wait for their prey.” Bramblestar swung his gaze around the Clan.
Lionblaze frowned, looking puzzled. Thornclaw, who had just dropped a fat thrush on the pile, looked up, his fur prickling uneasily. Around the clearing, the Clan cats exchanged glances.
“Why should the elders wait?” Blossomfall stepped forward, looking from Bramblestar to Cloudtail and back. “The code says that queens and elders must eat before warriors, as a show of respect.”
“Before warriors, maybe.” Bramblestar gazed steadily at the she-cat. “But it says nothing about leaders.”
Bristlefrost saw Lionblaze’s claws curl into the ground.
“Are you saying that you should eat before elders and queens?” The golden warrior looked directly at Bramblestar, a challenge in his eyes.
Bramblestar stared back. “Not just me,” he mewed. “The deputy too.” He moved closer to Squirrelflight, who seemed to flinch.
Her gaze flitted uncertainly around her Clanmates. “Bramblestar. I don’t—”
Bramblestar didn’t let her finish. “What good is it to give the best prey to our weakest Clanmates?” His gaze was still fixed on Lionblaze. “If we’re under attack, will our elders protect the Clan?”
Thornclaw stared at the ThunderClan leader as though he couldn’t believe his ears. Lionblaze’s eyes narrowed ominously as Bramblestar went on.
“They will be the ones who need help, and who will help them? Warriors. And who will lead them against whatever hardship or enemy we might face?” He looked around, as though challenging his Clanmates to answer.
No cat spoke. Bristlefrost shifted her paws awkwardly. Did Bramblestar think trouble was coming? Did he know something they didn’t? He must be trying to prepare the Clan for something. She lifted her muzzle. “You will lead us through any hardship, Bramblestar,” she ventured nervously.
“Precisely!” His gaze fixed on her eagerly. “Squirrelflight and I must be stronger than you all because we are the ones who will guide you through whatever hardship might face us. So we should eat first.”
“But we’ve always shown respect to the elders and queens,” Lionblaze objected.
“There are other ways to show respect.” Bramblestar blinked at the golden warrior. “Would you break the code by defying me?”
“Aren’t you breaking the code by eating before the elders?” Lionblaze pressed.
Bramblestar held his gaze. “I am your leader.” His growl was so soft that Bristlefrost could barely hear. “I decide what the code is.”
Her Clanmates stared at Bramblestar, their gazes clouded with uncertainty. Lionblaze’s tail flicked harder but he didn’t speak as Bramblestar padded to the fresh-kill pile and lifted the fat thrush from the top. He carried it back to Squirrelflight and nudged her toward the rock tumble. She followed him onto the Highledge as Bramblestar took the thrush into their den, but she glanced uneasily back at her Clanmates before disappearing inside.
Lionblaze picked two shrews from the fresh-kill pile and carried them to the elders’ den. Cloudtail nodded his thanks as the golden warrior dropped them at his paws, his gaze flitting toward the Highledge. Neither tom spoke, but Bristlefrost could see from their ruffled fur that they were troubled.
In the clearing, Stormcloud and Fernsong glanced at each other.
“Should we go hunting?” Fernsong wondered.
Stormcloud shrugged.
Bristlefrost suddenly realized that Squirrelflight hadn’t finished organizing the afternoon’s hunting patrol. Am I supposed to do it now? Fernsong was looking at her expectantly. “I’ll check with Squirrelflight.” She scrambled up the rock tumble. Perhaps she should organize three hunting patrols. If there was plenty of prey in camp, the Clan might not worry about the new rule. Eating before the elders and queens sounded like a strange decision, but Bramblestar must know what he was doing. He was Clan leader. Perhaps he was just testing his Clanmates’ willingness to follow the warrior code.
On the Highledge, she padded to the den entrance, hesitating as she heard a hiss from inside.
“Do you really think this is the best way to run a Clan?” Squirrelflight sounded angry. “After the leaf-bare we’ve had, do you think you’ll improve morale by pushing cats around and stealing the best prey for yourself?”
Bramblestar’s reply was silky, but she couldn’t make out the words. She backed away. She didn’t need to talk to Squirrelflight right now. She could organize the patrols herself and report back later. Squirrelflight would probably thank her for taking the initiative.
As she slithered down the slope, stones cracking beneath her paws, a chill ran along Bristlefrost’s spine. If Squirrelflight didn’t agree with Bramblestar’s prey rule, would any cat? At the bottom, she shook out her fur.
Fernsong looked at her expectantly. “What did she say?”
“She was busy,” Bristlefrost told him. “You might as well go hunting. I’m sure that’s what she wanted.”
Stormcloud blinked at Bristlefrost. “Do you want to come with us?”
“I want to organize some more patrols,” she told him. She also wanted to stay close to camp. Something was different about Bramblestar, and it was starting to make her uneasy. If she stayed close, she might find out what it was. Losing a life had changed him. Was something wrong?
She pushed the thought away. Of course not. He was still Bramblestar. So what if he was sterner now? He was just trying to make sure his warriors obeyed the code so that StarClan would come back. He wanted the best for his Clan, and that was enough. Flicking her tail, Bristlefrost padded to the camp wall and began to tug another stray bramble. She was sure everything would work out.
Bristlefrost shivered as rain pierced her pelt. Yesterday’s clouds had brought a storm. It had begun in the night and was still falling as she followed Lionblaze and Spotfur toward the edge of the forest.
“Let’s patrol the SkyClan border first,” she called to the golden warrior as he followed a stale prey trail. “It’s more sheltered beneath the trees.”
“She has a point.” Spotfur eyed Lionblaze hopefully. “It might stop raining. Then we could check the WindClan border without getting drenched.”
Lionblaze glanced up at the canopy, where rain was dripping steadily between the branches. “We’re going to get drenched anyway,” he mewed. “We might as well check the scent line before it’s completely washed away.”
Bristlefrost flattened her ears, bracing herself for a soaking as Lionblaze broke from the trees ahead of her. She followed him out, narrowing her eyes against the rain. As Spotfur fluffed out her fur and moved closer to Lionblaze, Bristlefrost pricked her ears. She’d hung back all the way from the camp, wondering if the two warriors would mention Bramblestar’s new rule. She’d been aware of murmuring among her Clanmates last night as they’d shared tongues around the clearing, but she hadn’t heard any cat directly criticize their leader. They’d seemed more puzzled than angry, glancing occasionally at the Highledge as though wondering why Bramblestar had changed a long-standing Clan tradition.
“It’s good to see rain instead of snow,” Spotfur mewed.
“I think I prefer snow.” Lionblaze flicked water from his ears.
“At least there’s warmth in the air,” Spotfur argued.
“Not much.” Lionblaze crossed the grass that stretched toward the moor. “But the prey’s returning, which is worth a little rain.”
“Thank StarClan.” Spotfur glanced at the sky.
“You’re wasting your breath,” Lionblaze grunted. “We don’t even know that they’re listening anymore.”
Spotfur blinked at him. “Of course they are. The thaw has set in properly now. There’s no reason why they can’t.”
“It might take a while for them to reach us again.”
Worry wormed beneath Bristlefrost’s pelt. “Perhaps they’re waiting for us to follow the warrior code properly.”
Lionblaze glanced back at her sharply. “We’ve always followed the warrior code.” He hesitated. “At least, some of us have.”
Bristlefrost frowned. Was he thinking of any cat in particular?
“I can smell rabbit.” Spotfur stopped and lifted her muzzle.
Lionblaze tasted the air. His wet pelt spiked excitedly. “So can I.” Pricking his ears, he glanced across the stretch of heather that led to the WindClan border. Gray fur bobbed between two bushes.
Bristlefrost’s heart quickened. Rabbit! She licked her lips eagerly and dropped into a hunting crouch as Spotfur and Lionblaze began to stalk toward their quarry. She crept after them, keeping her belly close to the ground. Her pelt tingled with excitement as the rabbit shot suddenly from the heather and Lionblaze chased after it. It saw him and veered away, panic sparking in its round black eyes. Plunging back into the heather, it disappeared. Lionblaze wove between the bushes, Spotfur at his heels.
Bristlefrost straightened, alarm flashing in her belly as she saw the heather tremble. Lionblaze and Spotfur were heading straight toward the border.
“Watch out!” she yowled. They mustn’t catch the rabbit on WindClan land! She froze as she saw the two warriors break from the heather and chase the rabbit past the line of gorse that marked the border. Lionblaze drove the rabbit down a few tail-lengths beyond it. He killed it and she saw him raise his muzzle to mew a quick thanks to StarClan before picking it up and carrying back onto ThunderClan territory.
Bristlefrost raced to meet them, dread hollowing her belly. “You caught that on WindClan land!” She stopped as she reached them and stared at Lionblaze. Catching prey on another Clan’s territory was against the warrior code. She searched his gaze, expecting to see alarm there. What if StarClan was watching? They’d never come back at this rate.
Lionblaze dropped the rabbit onto the grass, looking around. When his eyes widened, Bristlefrost knew he had realized where they were. “We couldn’t help it,” he mewed, sounding as if he was speaking to himself. Convincing himself.
Spotfur stopped beside him and sniffed the rabbit. She nodded in agreement. “It was only on WindClan land because we chased it there.”
“But you’ve broken the code.” Bristlefrost could hardly believe her ears. Didn’t they care if StarClan never came back?
“It doesn’t hurt any cat,” Lionblaze told her. “And in this rain, WindClan will never know we crossed the border.”
“StarClan will know,” Bristlefrost mewed desperately.
“StarClan would never be angry at a warrior for feeding his Clan.” Lionblaze nudged the rabbit. “This will make a good meal for Graystripe, Cloudtail, and Brightheart.”
Lionblaze picked up the rabbit and headed along the scent line.
“Are we going to mark the border?” Bristlefrost blinked at Spotfur.
“Of course.” Spotfur padded to a gorse bush and rubbed her jaw along a spiny branch. “But I doubt our scent will stay for long in this rain.”
Pelt prickling uneasily, Bristlefrost marked the next bush. Neither warrior seemed to care that they’d broken the warrior code. And she couldn’t help feeling that marking a border right after they’d crossed it might make StarClan even angrier.
The rain had eased by the time they reached camp. Bristlefrost’s paws ached from the long trek around the borders.
“Bristlefrost.”
She looked up as Bramblestar called her from the Highledge. He beckoned her to join him. She felt the gazes of her Clanmates on her pelt as she climbed the rock tumble and followed him into his den. Squirrelflight wasn’t there, though her scent still lingered in the warm, dank air. Had she gone on patrol despite Bramblestar telling her she couldn’t?
Bramblestar sat down and dipped his head. “Did you check all the borders?”
“Yes.” Bristlefrost felt nervous. She hadn’t been alone with Bramblestar before. She shifted her paws self-consciously, hoping her pelt wasn’t too spiky from the rain. She wanted to shake it out, but she was scared of soaking Bramblestar. Raindrops dripped onto the sandy stone around her. “SkyClan renewed their marks quite recently, although it was hard to tell in the rain. But it seemed like—”
“I’m sure the other Clans are taking good care of their borders.” Bramblestar’s gaze bored into hers. “How were Lionblaze and Spotfur?”
Bristlefrost stiffened. Had he found out that they’d crossed the border? She dropped her gaze. “They were okay.”
“Did they say anything about the new prey rule?” His mew was smooth but firm.
“Nothing.” She met his gaze again, relieved that she could answer with the truth.
“And the rest of the Clan?”
Bristlefrost’s ears twitched. “I’ve haven’t heard anything,” she told him honestly. “But I get the feeling they find it confusing.”
“Confusing?” Bramblestar tipped his head to one side. “I thought I’d made it clear.”
“You did,” she told him quickly. “They’re just confused about why you made a new prey rule.”
“Has some cat said something?”
“No,” Bristlefrost told him. “It’s just a feeling I have.”
Bramblestar’s eyes brightened. “Good.” He sounded relieved. “So nothing’s happened to upset StarClan.” His statement was a question.
“I don’t think so.” Bristlefrost hesitated. “Except . . .”
Bramblestar narrowed his eyes. “What?” He leaned closer.
Bristlefrost met his gaze uncertainly. She didn’t want to tell on any cat, but Lionblaze and Spotfur had crossed the border. StarClan would be angry, maybe even angrier if she kept it a secret from her leader.
“You can tell me anything,” he mewed softly. “Remember, you’re helping me keep the Clan safe. I need to know if anything’s happened so I can protect it.”
Bristlefrost took a breath. “Lionblaze and Spotfur accidently crossed the WindClan border while they were hunting.”
Bramblestar didn’t move. His gaze lingered on her until she felt her pelt burning.
“Only a little way,” she mewed quickly. “They didn’t realize until I told them.”
Bramblestar leaned back, his fur smoothing around his shoulders. He looked relieved that she’d told him. Happiness flickered in her chest. She’d done the right thing. He could fix it now and StarClan wouldn’t have to be angry. She wasn’t sure how he could fix it, but he was leader. He’d find a way.
Suddenly a shadow seemed to fall across Bramblestar’s face as his gaze darkened. Bristlefrost flinched as he bared his teeth for a moment. Then he stood and brushed past her, striding out of the den.
She hurried after him, alarm sparking beneath her pelt. What was he going to do? Outside, on the Highledge, Bramblestar yowled across the camp. “Lionblaze! Spotfur!”
He leaped down the stone tumble as Lionblaze and Spotfur looked up. Their eyes glittered with curiosity as they met him at the bottom. Bristlefrost stopped a tail-length away. Fear tightened her chest. Were they in trouble?
“Is it true?” Bramblestar glared at Lionblaze.
“True?” The golden warrior looked puzzled.
Bramblestar’s gaze flicked toward Spotfur. “Did you cross the border into WindClan territory?”
Spotfur and Lionblaze glanced past Bramblestar. Bristlefrost felt their gazes as sharp as thorns as they saw her. It was obvious that she’d told Bramblestar what they’d done. She shrank beneath her pelt, wishing Bramblestar hadn’t accused them so directly.
Around the clearing, the other ThunderClan warriors were gathering, their pelts prickling nervously. Stemleaf stared at Spotfur in dismay. Cinderheart and Fernsong moved closer, exchanging nervous glances.
Bramblestar curled his claws into the earth. “Well, did you?”
Lionblaze lifted his chin. “We did, but it was an accident and no cat saw us. WindClan won’t ever know.”
“Oh, really?” Bramblestar curled his lip. “You’re sure of that, are you? Did you lick your scent off the grass?”
Lionblaze stared at him. “It was raining!”
Spotfur nodded. “If it hadn’t been, we’d have smelled the border. We probably would never have crossed it.”
“So what are you saying?” Bramblestar’s eyes flashed with rage. “That WindClan didn’t mark their border strongly enough?”
Lionblaze gave a frustrated huff. “That’s not what we—”
“If Harestar comes here,” Bramblestar hissed, cutting him off, “and accuses us of invading his land, is that what you’re going to tell him? That you wouldn’t have done it if he kept his borders better marked?”
Lionblaze’s pelt ruffled. “Harestar isn’t going to accuse us of anything,” he snapped. “Warriors have crossed borders by accident before. It happens. We all know that.” He glanced around at his Clanmates. They returned his gaze blankly, as though they didn’t want to take sides.
Bramblestar narrowed his eyes. “You know StarClan has been silent these past moons. We’re supposed to be following the warrior code so that they’ll come back. How do you think they’ll feel about warriors crossing borders without permission? Do you think they’ll come back if we can’t even obey such a simple rule?”
“StarClan isn’t going to abandon us just because I crossed the WindClan border.” Lionblaze growled.
“Did they tell you that?” Bramblestar mewed sarcastically. “Are you our new link with StarClan?”
“Of course not.” Exasperation glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes.
Bramblestar flattened his ears. “Then don’t tell me what StarClan is thinking. You broke the code even though I’ve told you it must be followed.”
Spotfur bristled. “Every cat here has broken the code at some point.” She glared angrily at Bramblestar. “Some of us worse than others.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bramblestar flexed his claws.
“I mean that Squirrelflight once lied to every cat, pretending her sister’s kits—her sister the medicine cat’s kits—were hers. She lied on purpose and she lied for moons. If you can overlook that, then you can overlook us crossing a border without realizing.”
Bramblestar stared at the spotted tabby she-cat. His hackles lifted menacingly. Bristlefrost swallowed back fear. Was the ThunderClan leader going to attack one of his own warriors? As she held her breath, Bramblestar shifted his paws. His pelt smoothed as he seemed to regain control of his temper.
“Don’t concern yourself with Squirrelflight,” he meowed coldly. “As deputy, she’s served her Clan selflessly. I’m Clan leader and I decide who deserves punishment. Unless you think being granted nine lives by StarClan doesn’t mean anything?”
Spotfur dropped her gaze. She looked defeated. Lionblaze moved closer to her, as if to protect her from Bramblestar’s rage. Bristlefrost glanced at her Clanmates. Graystripe had padded from the elders’ den and was staring at Bramblestar as though he barely knew him. Thornclaw watched with interest, his gaze dark. As Bramblestar stared at Spotfur, the camp was so silent that Bristlefrost wondered if the birds had stopped singing. Then she realized that her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she could barely hear anything.
“For the next quarter moon,” Bramblestar began, “no cat is to talk to Spotfur.”
Spotfur lifted her head sharply and stared at the ThunderClan leader. Bristlefrost felt cold. Was this a normal way to punish Clanmates? She glanced at Graystripe. He’d know, surely. But the old warrior looked as surprised as she felt.
Bramblestar’s gaze moved to Lionblaze. “You are banished from the camp for a quarter moon.”
Cinderheart stepped forward. “You can’t do that. . . .” She stared at Bramblestar. “He’s a ThunderClan warrior. We protect each other!”
Bramblestar looked coolly at Lionblaze’s mate. “He has broken the warrior code, and questioned me for trying to uphold it. I will not let any cat undermine me or my Clan like that.” He returned his gaze to Lionblaze, who was staring at him in amazement. “You’re a seasoned warrior. You should know better.”
Lionblaze’s gaze cleared. He blinked in disbelief but didn’t speak.
Bramblestar curled his lip. “Surely you can stand living like a rogue for a quarter moon?”
Lionblaze didn’t answer. Bristlefrost felt sick. She’d caused this. Would Lionblaze ever forgive her?
Bramblestar went on. “If your scent is caught on Clan land—any Clan land—you will be treated like an invader and you won’t ever be allowed to return.”
Lionblaze squared his shoulders. He looked around at his Clanmates, his gaze furious. Then he walked to the entrance and padded out of camp.
Bristlefrost’s paws trembled. I was only trying to help. Her belly was hard with dread. She backed toward the shelter of the Highledge. Oh, StarClan! What have I done?
Bristlefrost blinked open her eyes. The ground beneath her was damp. The sky had cleared, and stars glittered above her head. Night had swallowed the camp while she’d slept. She’d tried to escape her misery in sleep after Lionblaze had left. As she remembered with a jolt what had happened earlier that day, guilt seared her pelt once more. She lifted her head and gazed around the camp. Her Clanmates were sharing their evening meal, no more than shadows around the clearing, their mews hushed. Bramblestar was nowhere to be seen, and she guessed he was in his den with Squirrelflight.
She pricked her ears as two shapes shifted behind the nursery. Their pelts gleamed in the moonlight as they sat a mouse-length away from each other. She recognized them at once. Stemleaf and Spotfur. Bristlefrost stiffened and sat up slowly, keeping her head low. She didn’t want to be noticed. Stemleaf and Spotfur were clearly hiding from their Clanmates. Their mouths were moving. Were they talking to each other? Had Stemleaf forgotten that no cat was supposed to speak to Spotfur for a quarter moon? Her heart quickened. What if Bramblestar found out? Would he banish Spotfur as he’d banished Lionblaze? She pricked her ears, her heart sinking when she heard their hushed whispers. After getting to her paws, she moved softly through the shadows, skirting the edge of the camp.
“You can’t do this!” she breathed.
Stemleaf swing his muzzle toward her. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”
“Are you going to report us to Bramblestar?” Spotfur’s eyes flashed angrily.
“No!” Did they really think she wanted to see them in trouble? “But what if some other cat sees you or hears you?” Bristlefrost’s belly churned with anxiety. Did they think rules didn’t apply to them? No wonder StarClan had turned their tails on the living cats. “You’re not supposed to be talking.”
“Do you think that’s fair?” Stemleaf stared at her defiantly.
“It doesn’t matter whether it’s fair or not,” Bristlefrost whispered urgently. “Bramblestar gave an order. You’re breaking the warrior code if you ignore it.”
Spotfur’s ears flattened. “But his orders are dumb!”
“Don’t say that!” Bristlefrost’s pelt spiked. “He’s our leader.”
“He hasn’t been much of a leader since he lost a life,” Stemleaf growled under his breath.
“It was his first life,” Bristlefrost reminded him. “He’s just getting used to it, and while he does, we just need to follow orders.”
“Even if they’re wrong?” Stemleaf flexed his claws in frustration.
“How will StarClan come back if we keep breaking the code?” Bristlefrost stared at him. Why didn’t he understand?
Spotfur snorted. “Do you really think they’ll come back if no cat talks to me for a quarter moon?”
“Not just that,” Bristlefrost argued. “It’s lots of things. I never realized how much we break the code without thinking. Every cat has to obey orders.”
Stemleaf narrowed his eyes. “And you’re going to make sure that we do?” he mewed bitterly.
“I’m just trying to stop you from getting into trouble like Spotfur,” Bristlefrost breathed. “You don’t want Bramblestar to stop your Clanmates from talking to you too.”
Stemleaf stared at her, his eyes glittering with starlight. “You don’t get it, do you? There’s more at stake here than whether we’re allowed to talk to each other. Something is very wrong.” He stretched his muzzle closer. “I always thought you were a good cat. Soon we’re going to have to make choices. I just hope you’ll be ready to make the right ones.” He stalked away.
Spotfur blinked at her, her eyes glistening with anger, then slid past her and headed toward the clearing.
Alone in the dark, Bristlefrost glanced around the camp. No cat paid any attention to Spotfur as she settled outside the warriors’ den and Stemleaf sat down between Dewnose and Bumblestripe. A dark sense of foreboding seemed to enfold her as Stemleaf’s words rang in her head. Soon we’re going to have to make choices.
She shivered. What in StarClan did he mean?