Veil Of Shadows

Chapter 4

Bristlefrost plodded through the mud, following Bramblestar and Whitewing through the thorn tunnel and back into the ThunderClan camp. Bramblestar didn’t bother to dismiss them; without a word he headed across the camp and up the tumbled rocks to his den on the Highledge.

Whitewing exchanged a friendly glance with Bristlefrost. “You’d better go and help yourself to fresh-kill,” she suggested. “You deserve it after that.”

Bristlefrost nodded in gratitude. She felt every muscle in her body relax at the relief of getting out of the rain and away from Bramblestar for a while. Ever since he had exiled Lionblaze and Jayfeather the day before, he had been poking his nose into the business of every cat in the Clan: not just keeping a paw on their welfare, as a Clan leader should, but popping up inside their dens or listening in on conversations, looking for excuses to send more warriors away.

Meanwhile, Bramblestar had spent a lot of that time with Bristlefrost, but the attention he paid her seemed different. It was like she was exempt from his suspicion. He treated her like a cat he could trust to do as she was told. Now that he had gone for a rest, Bristlefrost felt as if she had escaped from a fox’s den. She spotted Stemleaf and Spotfur sharing tongues under a tree beside the fresh-kill pile, and bounded over to join them.

“Thank StarClan that’s over!” she mewed with a gusty sigh as she flopped down beside them.

“What happened in SkyClan?” Spotfur asked, while Stemleaf snagged a vole from the pile and pushed it over to Bristlefrost.

Bristlefrost took a hungry bite and mumbled her reply through a mouthful of delicious vole. “I’m not sure.” After swallowing, she went on. “Leafstar didn’t seem convinced by Bramblestar urging her to exile more cats.”

“Good for her,” Spotfur commented.

“But it doesn’t help much,” Stemleaf reminded his mate. Under his breath he added, “There’s still no sign of Shadowsight. Could Bramblestar have killed him?”

“No cat has found his body, or any blood,” Spotfur pointed out, while Bristlefrost shivered at having her worst fear put into words. “If Shadowsight was dead, there would be some evidence of it, surely?”

Stemleaf shook his head slowly. “It could have been covered up. Or maybe he’s being kept prisoner somewhere.”

“One thing I’m certain of,” Bristlefrost meowed. “Bramblestar is wrong when he says that Shadowsight ran off.”

“He would never do that,” Spotfur agreed. “He—”

She broke off as Stemleaf stretched out his tail to touch her shoulder, giving her a warning glance. Bristlefrost glanced around to see Stemleaf’s father, Thornclaw, bounding over to join them.

Has Stemleaf told Thornclaw what we suspect about Bramblestar? she wondered. No, he can’t have, or he wouldn’t have hushed Spotfur.

Bristlefrost’s muscles tensed briefly as she reflected on how many ThunderClan cats knew nothing about the false Bramblestar. She and the other rebels didn’t know which cats they could trust. Seeing Stemleaf so tense around his own father, she was reminded how easily the Clan could be divided if they revealed their suspicions too early, without proof. ThunderClan could be torn apart, she thought with a shiver. We must all tread very carefully.

“Greetings,” Thornclaw meowed cheerfully as he sat beside them and chose a mouse from the fresh-kill pile. “The prey was running well today, despite the weather,” he continued. “I’m sure now that newleaf is here, things will start to get better.”

“I hope so,” Stemleaf commented, though Bristlefrost thought he looked dubious. “Might be nice to see the sun again, though.”

“Are you worried that StarClan is sending this terrible weather, too?” Thornclaw tore off a mouthful of mouse and swallowed it. “I gather you’re not alone, but don’t read too much into it. I admit I don’t always understand StarClan, but they’ll explain themselves sooner or later, you can count on it.”

“But do they really want us to exile our own Clanmates?” Bristlefrost asked. As soon as the words left her mouth, she wondered if she had been too daring. What if Thornclaw reports what I said to Bramblestar?

But Thornclaw didn’t seem at all worried about her question. “You’re young, and of course you worry about these sorts of decisions,” he purred. “But after what I experienced in the Dark Forest—well, I’m willing to do what’s necessary, and now I’m sure things will settle down. StarClan will be back soon, you’ll see.”

Bristlefrost narrowly avoided rolling her eyes, while Stemleaf and Spotfur exchanged another uneasy glance.

“I’m sure you’re right, Thornclaw,” Stemleaf meowed.

Quickly finishing her vole, Bristlefrost excused herself and bounded back to the warriors’ den. Outside, she spotted her brother, Flipclaw, who was balancing precariously halfway up the outer wall; water dripped from his nose as he wove a bramble tendril into a gap that had opened up in the high winds the night before.

“Hi!” Bristlefrost called up to him, pleased to see a familiar and friendly face. “That’s a great job you’re doing.”

Flipclaw glanced down at her, and the look in his eyes wasn’t friendly at all. “You wouldn’t know a great job if it sat up and bit you,” he mewed coldly. “Or you wouldn’t have been so eager to turn your back on Jayfeather and Lionblaze, after all they’ve done for the Clan.”

The barbed comment shocked Bristlefrost so much that for a few heartbeats she couldn’t find words to reply. Her brother leaped down from the den wall and stalked past her before she recovered. Bristlefrost gazed sadly after him.

I should have told him what I did for the exiles, she thought. But he didn’t give me the chance.

She wanted to curl up in her nest and sleep, forgetting all her problems for a while, but as she was padding up to the entrance of the den, she spotted Finleap. The brown tom was crouching with hunched shoulders underneath an elder bush that grew in a crack in the den wall below the Highledge, avoiding the rain. He looked so unhappy that Bristlefrost felt sorry for him, and she trotted over to sit beside him.

“Twigbranch will be okay,” she murmured in an attempt to comfort him.

“I know she will,” Finleap responded, “but that doesn’t make it all right. Why should we expel our Clanmates like this? Why should I have to lose the cat I love because Bramblestar says so?”

His voice rose on the last few words; Bristlefrost felt all her muscles tense, and she glanced around to see if any cat might have overheard him. She touched her nose to his shoulder in a warning gesture, but Finleap hardly seemed aware of her.

“Why would StarClan want this?” he asked, growing even more impassioned. “I did the same thing—I left the Clan I was born in—and I wasn’t named as a codebreaker!”

“For StarClan’s sake, be quiet!” Bristlefrost hissed. She didn’t want to sound so fierce, but for Finleap’s own sake he had to stop protesting so loudly. “Remember, it’s Bramblestar’s order, and the code tells us we have to do what he says.”

Finleap gave her a long, melancholy stare. “I’m disappointed in you,” he mewed. “We might not know each other well, but I always thought you had a mind of your own.”

Before Bristlefrost could respond to the accusation, an irritated yowl came from the Highledge above. “What cat is screeching down there when I’m trying to rest?”

Horrified, Bristlefrost leaped to her paws. She had forgotten how close she and Finleap were to the Clan leader’s den; now she looked up to see Bramblestar peering blearily down from the Highledge. Beside her, Finleap was standing stiff-legged, his ears laid back and his shoulder fur bristling. Bristlefrost was terrified that he would challenge their leader.

“I’m sorry, Bramblestar!” she called quickly. “It’s okay. Finleap and I were just having a stupid argument.” She paused for a moment, then added, “May I please speak to you in private?”

Bramblestar hesitated, then replied with a grunt and jerked his head to invite her to come up. Finleap relaxed his hostile stance and gave Bristlefrost another disappointed look before turning his back on her and heading toward the warriors’ den.

Bristlefrost climbed up the tumbled rocks and onto the Highledge. I’d better think of something to talk about—and fast, she told herself, her thoughts whirling uselessly like a startled nest of bees.

Bramblestar had returned to his den; when Bristlefrost reached the entrance, she saw that he was sprawled out on the heap of moss and bracken against the back wall.

“Come in,” he growled. “What do you want?”

Bristlefrost had only asked for the meeting to separate Bramblestar and Finleap.

“I just wanted to ask if you’re okay,” she meowed. “It’s great that StarClan will be back with us soon.”

Bramblestar flexed his claws. “I’m doing fine,” he rumbled. “But what can you tell me about the rest of the Clan?”

“Oh, they’re doing fine, too,” Bristlefrost assured him, desperately eager. In reality she was finding it hard to carry on the conversation—she was too distracted by the terrible state of the den. “You know, they’re all a little wet, but in good spirits.”

Bramblestar’s bedding was lumpy and smelled stale. It looked as if it hadn’t been changed for a moon, and there were prey bones and scraps of fur scattered everywhere. They were giving off a reek, too.

It was never like this before Squirrelflight left, Bristlefrost thought. Has Bramblestar been forbidding the apprentices to clean it up? Why would he do that?

Even while Bristlefrost was talking to him, the false Bramblestar seemed listless and lethargic, stretching his jaws in a massive yawn instead of paying attention to her.

Bristlefrost couldn’t think of any reason for this unknown spirit cat to have taken over Bramblestar’s body, except to become leader of ThunderClan. But now that he had achieved what he wanted, he didn’t seem to be hopeful or pleased about it. Instead he seemed depressed, like he had lost interest in what it meant actually to be a leader.

Most of the ThunderClan warriors hadn’t noticed Bramblestar’s apathy, because Berrynose had made sure that the routine duties of the Clan were taken care of.

He may be a real pain in the tail, but he’s not a bad deputy.

Several times Bristlefrost had overheard Berrynose giving orders to other warriors, claiming that they came from Bramblestar, when she knew that Bramblestar hadn’t given any orders at all. Stemleaf, Spotfur, and Alderheart had noticed the change, too, but what could so few cats do about it?

A chill like the tapping of icy claws ran down Bristlefrost’s back as she met the hard amber gaze of the impostor. Who is this cat? she asked herself. What does he really want? The codebreakers Shadowsight had named were gone from the Clan. That had seemed to be the false Bramblestar’s goal, but now that he had achieved it, his success clearly wasn’t making him happy. So why is he doing it? Who is this?

Bristlefrost could find no answer to her questions.

The night sky was blotched with clouds as Bristlefrost padded beside Bramblestar and Berrynose on their way to the emergency Gathering. Fitful gleams of moon and starlight struggled to break through the covering, and the forest lay in deep darkness as the ThunderClan warriors brushed through the undergrowth.

Every step was an effort, and Bristlefrost would have much preferred to curl up in her nest and forget her troubles for a while in sleep. Her kin and most of her friends were still keeping their distance from her; clearly they assumed that she supported Bramblestar and his harsh punishments.

From the looks they’re giving me, you’d think I’d rolled in dog dung!

Before they had left the stone hollow more than a few fox-lengths behind, Bristlefrost realized that Bramblestar was paying keen attention to the forest around them, his eyes wide and his ears pricked alertly. He was completely different from the listless cat of earlier that day.

Now what does he think he’s doing?

Soon Bramblestar halted and plunged his nose into a thick growth of moss on the root of an oak tree, sniffing deeply. Turning to Bristlefrost, he asked her, “Is that Squirrelflight’s scent? Has she been here?”

Bristlefrost wasn’t sure how to react. She knew very well that far too many days had passed since Squirrelflight’s banishment for her scent to have survived on ThunderClan territory. But why was Bramblestar asking? Was he looking for reassurance that the exiled deputy was gone?

Hoping to please him, she took a sniff of the moss. It smells like . . . moss. “I’m not sure,” she replied to Bramblestar. “It could be.”

Bramblestar gave her a curt nod and continued toward the lake, but he was still watchful, and a few paces farther on he stopped to sniff at the debris beneath a holly bush and asked Bristlefrost the same question. There was a strange, wistful look in his eyes. Bristlefrost tried to keep her answers vague. She knew that Squirrelflight was living on ShadowClan territory, but she dared not give the interloper the least hint of that.

Even when Bramblestar and the rest of the cats reached the lakeshore and crossed into WindClan territory, the impostor still kept up his search for Squirrelflight.

Why? Bristlefrost wondered. Does he feel threatened by her? Does he think she might come back and try to take leadership of the Clan? Then she saw how Bramblestar’s tail began to droop with disappointment when he couldn’t find any definite traces of the former deputy. Bristlefrost realized there must be something more behind his search. He misses her.

But then why had he sent Squirrelflight away in the first place?

As soon as she pushed her way through the bushes into the clearing around the Great Oak, Bristlefrost was aware of tension in the air. Cats were glaring at one another, their shoulder fur twitching and their tail-tips flicking back and forth. She realized that one wrong word could break the Gathering truce and lead to all-out fighting.

We couldn’t be more jumpy if we were gathering in a badger’s den!

Because Bramblestar had paused so often in his search for Squirrelflight, the ThunderClan cats were the last to arrive. Tigerstar was scraping his claws impatiently on the bark of the Great Oak as Bramblestar hauled his way up the trunk and settled himself in a fork between two branches.

“You took your time,” Tigerstar snapped. “Why did you call this Gathering just to keep us all waiting?”

Bramblestar ignored the question, and after a couple of heartbeats the ShadowClan leader rose to his paws and addressed the Gathering.

“Shadowsight is still missing,” he announced. “If any cat has seen or scented him, for StarClan’s sake tell me now.”

A sympathetic murmur arose from the cats in the clearing. Bristlefrost, who was sitting close to the oak roots with Stemleaf and Spotfur, wished that she could tell Tigerstar something that would help, but she knew that there had been no trace of Shadowsight on ThunderClan territory since the night he disappeared.

As Tigerstar waited for a response, he flexed his claws in and out, his ears flattened in distress. The loss of a young cat was a terrible burden for any Clan, and this was not just any cat: This was a ShadowClan medicine cat, and, more important still, Tigerstar’s son.

“Something happened to Shadowsight,” Tigerstar went on, his voice distraught. “He wouldn’t just leave without telling any cat. That means something—or some cat—attacked him.”

Tigerstar’s accusation was met with a thick silence. The tension in the clearing mounted until Bristlefrost could feel it in every hair on her pelt, as if a whole nest of ants were crawling through her fur. She clamped her jaws tight shut to stop herself letting out a yowl of fear and frustration.

Her thoughts flew back to the night when she had seen the false Bramblestar returning to camp, his chest fur matted with blood. It hurt like a fox’s fangs to suspect that the ThunderClan leader had had something to do with Shadowsight’s disappearance. But she stood by her decision not to accuse him. She had no evidence; if she brought this up, she would give away her hostility to Bramblestar for nothing. If the false Bramblestar stopped trusting her, how would she be able to work against him? Without proof, would any cat in ThunderClan believe her? The real Bramblestar would never have hurt a medicine cat.

Bramblestar let the silence drag on for several heartbeats before he rose to his paws and advanced along the closest branch until he could easily look down on the cats in the clearing. He surveyed them all calmly, and when he began to speak, his tones were clear and decisive. Bristlefrost felt a shock of surprise contrasting this cat, in command of himself and the situation, with the miserable lump of fur she had encountered earlier in his den.

“Tigerstar,” Bramblestar began, “it’s time to stop looking for Shadowsight.” He raised a paw as Tigerstar opened his jaws to protest. “I understand you don’t want to believe your son would leave,” he continued kindly, “but there’s no evidence of an attack of any sort. There’s no sign of him or his corpse. We must assume that he has run away from the Clans. Probably he has gone to be a kittypet, where he can forget all about the difficult job of speaking for StarClan.”

Bristlefrost’s heart sank as she listened to Bramblestar. He makes it sound so reasonable!

She saw Tigerstar’s shoulder fur began to rise at the suggestion that his son would ever want to be a kittypet, but when he replied to Bramblestar, his voice was tightly controlled.

“Why would Shadowsight do that?” he asked. “He loved being a medicine cat.”

“He did,” Bramblestar agreed. “Until one of his parents was named as a codebreaker.”

Now all of Tigerstar’s fur bristled, and he dug his claws hard into the branch where he was standing. Bristlefrost’s belly lurched in fear that the ShadowClan leader would leap at Bramblestar and tear his throat out, right here at the Gathering.

Is that what Bramblestar wants? she asked herself. Does he want to start an all-out war among the Clans, and have Tigerstar disgrace StarClan as well? No cat knew how StarClan would react to some cat breaking the Gathering truce.

She glanced upward to see if clouds were covering the moon as the sign of StarClan’s anger. But the sky had not changed: Faint gleams of light were still struggling through the cloud covering. Maybe an emergency Gathering is different, she thought. There’s no full moon. And anyway, it’s been so long since StarClan gave us any sort of sign. . . .

Tigerstar held himself very still, fixing Bramblestar with an icy glare and keeping a tight grip on his self-control. “You’re wrong, Bramblestar,” he rasped.

Bramblestar dismissed his words with a flick of his tail. “Cats of all Clans,” he began, addressing the Gathering, “you no longer have a choice. Moons have passed since StarClan last communicated with us, and their intent could not be clearer. Their demands are hard to bear, but there’s no doubt that obeying them is the right thing to do. We must exile each and every one of the named codebreakers. They must leave the lake, or StarClan will never return to us. I have already sent Jayfeather and Lionblaze away.”

Bristlefrost noticed that Bramblestar didn’t mention Twigbranch, and she wondered if he was hiding the fact that he had given her the chance to atone.

As the impostor finished speaking, yowls broke out among the cats in the clearing: some protesting, while others sounded simply confused. Bristlefrost saw many cats glancing around, and she knew they were trying to work out which of their Clanmates they would have to send away.

She noticed that Crowfeather and Mothwing were both there in the clearing; they would be among the first cats who had to leave if the Clans agreed to exile their codebreakers. Dovewing wasn’t there, but she too was a cat who had broken the code in the most flagrant way possible.

Meanwhile, Harestar of WindClan had risen from the branch where he was sitting, a tail-length above Bramblestar. His chest was heaving, and his voice was unsteady as he spoke.

“Crowfeather was named as a codebreaker,” he began, “and he’s my deputy. I can’t lose him to this! Many of the codebreakers are good cats. And Shadowsight’s vision is the word of one cat, a cat who—no offense, Tigerstar—seems to have left the Clans. Can this truly be what StarClan wants?”

Bramblestar tilted his head to one side as he looked up at Harestar. “Shadowsight’s disappearance is proof that this has to be done,” he responded calmly. “Clearly, he ran away because he saw the truth. His own mother, as a codebreaker, must be exiled. It’s difficult and painful to do StarClan’s bidding, but we have no alternative, if we’re to have any hope of seeing the spirits of our warrior ancestors again. Shadowsight understood that. He gave us our orders, but he left because he wasn’t strong enough to see it through.”

At his words, Tigerstar let out a growl, positioning himself to launch his body at Bramblestar. The impostor seemed unaware of the younger leader’s hostility—or perhaps, Bristlefrost thought, he simply didn’t care.

She knew that she had to stop a fight breaking out. She didn’t dare speak, but she leaped to her paws and took a pace or two toward the Great Oak so that Tigerstar could look down at her. Gazing up at him fervently, she tried to tell him, Stop! You have to play along for now, or all our plans will fall apart!

Tigerstar’s eyes widened in understanding. He shook his head slightly but retreated a pace, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on Bramblestar.

“I don’t want to do this,” Harestar went on, regaining some control over himself. “But WindClan is suffering. This recent wind and rain is driving prey from the moor, and my cats are hungry.”

Bramblestar nodded, a gleam in his amber gaze. “Of course they are! This is StarClan’s punishment for not following their wishes.” Glancing around at the assembled cats, he added, “WindClan’s woes are a warning to all of us. If we don’t enforce the code and send the codebreakers away, things will get worse, not better! Every cat here must realize that we need StarClan’s guidance more than ever. And that means we have no choice.”

The impostor bent his head and directed his gaze downward to where Crowfeather was seated with the other deputies on the roots of the Great Oak. As the dark gray tom looked back at him, a growl rose from deep within Crowfeather’s chest, though he said nothing.

Crowfeather’s son Breezepelt rose to his paws. “Harestar, you can’t seriously mean to exile our deputy,” he protested. “WindClan needs him.”

“And we don’t have to do it now,” Breezepelt’s mother, Nightcloud, added. “We can try to contact StarClan again and make sure it’s the right thing to do.”

Harestar let out a yowl of frustration. “We can’t contact StarClan. That’s the whole problem!”

Nightcloud let out a hiss and turned her back on her Clan leader.

Before any other cat could speak, Crowfeather rose and leaped down from his position on the gnarled oak root. “If I have to leave to save my Clan from conflict, then I will leave,” he announced to the whole Gathering. “But I tell you this: It won’t bring StarClan back. Today it’s me, and the other cats named in Shadowsight’s vision. But what happens when we’re exiled and StarClan doesn’t return? Who will be next?”

Without waiting for a response, he stalked across the clearing, his head and tail held high, and disappeared into the bushes, heading for the tree-bridge. Bristlefrost watched him go, doing her best to hide her admiration.

Crowfeather is putting his Clan first. And he’s right: I’m sure exiling all these cats won’t bring StarClan back.

Bristlefrost turned back to the Great Oak as she heard Mistystar begin to speak. The RiverClan leader was looking sorrowfully down at her medicine cat, Mothwing.

“I’m sorry, Mothwing,” she meowed. “Your mother was a rogue and your father was the first Tigerstar, who, whatever he was, was not a RiverClan cat. I must send you into exile.”

“But—” Mothwing began to protest, while her former apprentice, Willowshine, glared up at Mistystar with narrowed eyes and teeth bared in a snarl.

“We must try,” Mistystar interrupted. “These heavy newleaf rains have brought flooding and mudslides to RiverClan, and prey has not been running well. I need StarClan’s guidance, but StarClan has turned away from us. Perhaps Bramblestar is right; perhaps we have been too lax in following the warrior code, and that’s why StarClan is angry with us. I have no choice but to exile you.”

Mothwing rose to her paws. Bristlefrost was close enough to see the hurt in her eyes as she responded to her Clan leader. “I’ve been devoted to RiverClan ever since my mother brought me to you,” she pointed out. “My own mother decided to leave the Clan, but I chose to stay!”

“You don’t even follow StarClan,” some cat muttered from among the RiverClan cats.

Mothwing’s head whipped around in the direction of the voice. “That doesn’t matter,” she snapped. “I’ve proven my loyalty to my Clan many times over.” She gazed up at Mistystar, not pleading any longer, but Bristlefrost could see how much she loved her Clan, and how crushed she was at the thought of exile.

“I’m sorry,” Mistystar repeated. “Perhaps when all this is over, you will be able to return.”

Mothwing’s chest heaved in a deep sigh, and she bowed her head to her leader without any more protest. Then she turned and headed out of the clearing, following in Crowfeather’s paw steps.

All around Bristlefrost the assembly broke up into small groups of cats, arguing whether it was right to exile the codebreakers. Dread swelled in her belly as she listened to the furious yowls and snarling.

This isn’t a war between Clans, she realized. It could be even worse.

Each Clan seemed to be splintering into different factions, allying themselves with cats from other Clans, even if all they had in common was their feelings about the codebreakers. Bristlefrost could see the strength of five united Clans slipping away like water soaking into dry ground.

She noticed that Bramblestar had leaped down from the Great Oak and was circling the camp, listening to the chaos he had unleashed. Now and again he would speak up to defend Mistystar or Harestar against their own warriors.

In the confusion, Bristlefrost noticed Stemleaf creeping away, following Mothwing and Crowfeather. A spark of hope lit inside her that he would be able to find them and tell them that Tigerstar had offered refuge to the exiles in ShadowClan.

I just hope he doesn’t get caught. . . .