Veil Of Shadows

Chapter 6

Bristlefrost glanced around curiously as she padded through the fern tunnel into the old SkyClan camp. The morning sunshine had given way to a heavy shower of rain around sunhigh, and gray clouds still hung low over the forest. All the undergrowth was drenched, and Bristlefrost shivered as she paused to shake moisture from her fur.

Stemleaf and Spotfur pushed through the tunnel behind Bristlefrost and came to stand by her side. “What a great place for a camp!” Spotfur exclaimed. “SkyClan must have been sorry to leave it.”

“They didn’t have much choice,” Stemleaf mewed drily. “It is on ShadowClan territory, after all.”

Bristlefrost had to agree with Spotfur: This had obviously been a good camp. A stream ran through the middle of it, overhung by vegetation, with flat rocks here and there that would be great places for cats to sun themselves. At the far end was an old cedar tree with a hollow that Bristlefrost guessed had been the Clan leader’s den. The ferns that surrounded the clearing were reinforced by brambles, though gaps had opened up since the camp had been abandoned. The bushes that must have sheltered the various dens needed work, too, before they would keep out the wind and the rain.

Bristlefrost and her Clanmates had arrived for a meeting of the rebel cats, but so far the only cats she could see in the clearing were the exiles who had moved in there. Not far away from her she could see Crowfeather and Lionblaze facing each other with glaring eyes and fur bristling.

“You and Twigbranch need to get on with repairing the apprentices’ den,” Crowfeather snapped.

Lionblaze rolled his eyes. “It may have escaped your notice, but we don’t have any apprentices,” he pointed out. “Or kits, either. It’s far more important to plug the gaps in the warriors’ den, and fetch moss for nests.”

“We might have apprentices soon,” Crowfeather argued. “If Bramblestar keeps going, we can expect more exiles—I don’t think even the apprentices are safe.”

“Bramblestar can’t keep going—”

Crowfeather interrupted Lionblaze’s protest. “Don’t be naive. We might be here so long that we need a permanent camp, with kits being born here and becoming apprentices.”

Bristlefrost stifled a gasp of horror at the thought that the crisis in the forest might go on for so long. But the squabbling toms seemed unaware of her.

“You might be right,” Lionblaze meowed. “But that’s not happening right now. The first thing we need to do is make sure the warriors who are here now have a place to sleep. Besides,” he went on when Crowfeather looked as if he would go on arguing, “you might be a Clan deputy, but you’re not my Clan deputy, so don’t give me orders.”

“Fine!” Crowfeather whipped around and stalked away, his tail held high. Lionblaze picked up a heap of moss he had let fall by his side, and headed off in the opposite direction.

“Is it true that Crowfeather is Lionblaze’s father?” Bristlefrost murmured.

Spotfur nodded, letting out a small mrrow of laughter. “They don’t get along very well, do they?”

Bristlefrost could see that some of the exiled cats who had heard the quarrel were looking troubled. “Will we really be here long enough for kits to become apprentices?” Twigbranch asked.

“I’m sure we won’t,” Squirrelflight reassured her, resting her tail on the younger cat’s shoulder. “You can always trust Crowfeather to see the worst in any situation.”

“You certainly won’t be here that long.” Tigerstar had entered the camp, followed by Dovewing and Tawnypelt, in time to hear Twigbranch’s words. “Don’t forget this is ShadowClan territory, and using this camp is only a temporary solution.”

Twigbranch dipped her head in acknowledgment, but Bristlefrost wasn’t sure she looked convinced.

By this time, more warriors were arriving for the rebels’ meeting. As the crowd gathered, Bristlefrost realized that some of their original supporters hadn’t appeared, and wondered if they were too afraid to come, especially now that the WindClan and RiverClan leaders seemed to be in agreement with Bramblestar. However, she was cheered to see some younger cats there for the first time, including Dappletuft from RiverClan, Kitescratch from SkyClan, and Conefoot from ShadowClan.

More SkyClan cats appeared with Kitescratch: Violetshine and Tree, with Needleclaw and Rootpaw. Bristlefrost carefully avoided catching Rootpaw’s gaze.

“Oh, no—Twigbranch!” Violetshine exclaimed as she spotted her sister. “Are you exiled too?”

Twigbranch ran across and touched noses with Violetshine, letting out a welcoming purr. “For now,” she explained. “But Bramblestar will let me back into the Clan when I’ve atoned.”

Other cats, including Frecklewish and Puddleshine, trickled into the camp, but at last it was clear that no more were coming. They gathered with the exiles beside the old cedar tree.

Squirrelflight beckoned to Bristlefrost with a wave of her tail. “I think it’s up to you to speak first,” she meowed.

Bristlefrost looked at the assembled cats, her heart pounding. She was nervous about addressing so many cats, most of whom were far more experienced warriors. But she was also worried about telling this many cats the truth about Bramblestar. In a way, it would be a relief, but she also feared what might happen if not all the cats believed her, or if they couldn’t agree about what to do. Still, with Squirrelflight nodding at her encouragingly, she braced herself and padded up to the front of the group. “I know this sounds crazy,” she began, “and I have no idea how it can be happening, but we’re sure now that the cat leading ThunderClan isn’t really Bramblestar at all. He’s some other cat—or something—living in Bramblestar’s body. Rootpaw,” she continued, turning toward the SkyClan apprentice, “can you tell every cat what you have seen?”

Rootpaw ducked his head, seeming nervous, and came forward to stand beside Bristlefrost. “I’ve seen Bramblestar’s spirit in the forest,” he told the assembled cats. “Many times now. Tree has seen him, too, and the other night he appeared to me and the other medicine cats.”

Murmurs of shock and protest broke out at Rootpaw’s revelation. Bristlefrost wondered if the medicine cats had shared their news of the vision with their leaders, as Rootpaw and Tree had planned to encourage them to do. I can’t blame them if they didn’t, she thought. It’s so weird!

“I find that very hard to believe,” Crowfeather meowed. “Why would Bramblestar appear to you, and not to a cat of his own Clan?”

“Don’t forget Rootpaw has the Sisters’ blood,” Alderheart pointed out. “And I saw Bramblestar’s spirit at the medicine-cat meeting, as clear as I see you now.”

“So did I,” Jayfeather added. “At least, I heard his voice. It was Bramblestar.”

Bristlefrost was dismayed to see that even with the backing of the medicine cats, some of the rebels still didn’t believe Rootpaw, or were so confused they didn’t know what to believe. And these are the cats who are already resisting Bramblestar, she thought. If even they have trouble believing he’s not really himself, how will the rest of the Clans react?

“I haven’t seen the spirit,” she meowed. “But I know that the cat who calls himself Bramblestar is nothing like our real leader.”

“You’re right, Bristlefrost!” Twigbranch exclaimed. “The real Bramblestar would never have treated me this way.”

Twigbranch’s support made Bristlefrost realize that it was time to share another fact about their so-called leader. The resistance fighters should know the truth. “There’s something else you need to know,” Bristlefrost went on, as the cats settled down again to listen. “On the night that Shadowsight disappeared, I saw Bramblestar returning to the camp with blood on his muzzle and his chest fur. And before that, I’m sure that some cat tried to kill Sparkpelt, too.”

This time the yowls of shock and horror were even louder. Tigerstar and Dovewing were staring at each other, their eyes filled with identical expressions of anguish. Only for a moment—then Tigerstar wrenched his gaze away and leaped onto a nearby rock to seize control of the crowd.

“We must kill Bramblestar!” he announced.

Caterwauls of fervent agreement came from most of the ShadowClan cats, though Bristlefrost could hear protests, too. Eventually Tawnypelt managed to make herself heard.

“All of you know that Bramblestar is my brother,” she meowed. “And I grieve at the thought of killing his body.” She hesitated for a heartbeat, struggling to force the words out. “But whatever destructive spirit is inside him cannot be allowed to continue.”

“No!” Bristlefrost raised her voice, her whole body quivering with outrage. “We just told you the real Bramblestar is still around! How can you suggest killing his body? What would happen to the real Bramblestar then?”

“Maybe he’d return,” Lionblaze suggested hopefully. “Like when a leader loses a life in the normal way.”

“And maybe he wouldn’t,” Twigbranch retorted. “Do we have the right to risk it?”

Once again the meeting erupted into chaos, every cat demanding to be heard, while no cat wanted to listen. Bristlefrost tried to make sense of the argument, finding a tiny shred of hope in the way that most of the ThunderClan cats were horrified at the thought of killing their leader’s body.

“Bramblestar’s dying is what got us into this mess,” Crowfeather pointed out. “Would killing him even work?”

“We can’t take that risk,” Stemleaf insisted.

The young ShadowClan warrior Conefoot flicked his tail dismissively. “Do we know the real Bramblestar is still there to worry about?” he asked. “Rootpaw says he hasn’t seen him since the medicine-cat meeting.”

Squirrelflight pushed her way through the crowd and leaped up onto the rock beside Tigerstar. She waved her tail for silence, and the caterwauling died down to hostile hissing and muttering.

“Bramblestar isn’t gone,” Squirrelflight insisted, her green gaze compelling the attention of the crowd. “He wouldn’t leave me like this, I’m sure of it.” Turning to Tigerstar, she added fiercely, “If you won’t give up on Shadowsight, you should understand that I won’t give up on Bramblestar.”

Tigerstar’s voice was full of bitterness as he replied. “I’m sure Shadowsight is dead. If he were alive, he would never have left ShadowClan. If he were able, he would have come home.”

“Maybe not.” Dovewing was clearly trying to comfort her mate. “Remember, we once left the Clans without telling any cat—StarClan, how I regret that now!”

The argument broke out again, though more quietly this time. The cats must have been growing exhausted from shock and apprehension. Bristlefrost felt her muscles tense with fear as she realized that most of the cats in the clearing felt that they should kill, or at least drive out, the false Bramblestar.

“Just think what you’re saying,” Jayfeather challenged them. “Killing a leader—even if he’s not the true leader—isn’t like slapping your paw down on a mouse. Before we make a move, we have to think about what would happen next.”

“That’s right,” Bristlefrost agreed, thankful for another argument against killing Bramblestar’s body. “Berrynose is the ThunderClan deputy now. Does any cat think that he would make a good leader?”

The cats stood in a small pool of silence as each of them thought about that. Finally, Dovewing spoke. “But Squirrelflight, you’re the real deputy, aren’t you?”

“No, she’s not,” Jayfeather responded instantly. “However much we might like her to be. Her Clan leader banished her and appointed Berrynose, and how pleased do you think StarClan and every other cat would be if we didn’t follow the usual succession? It’s an outrageous idea!”

“Jayfeather’s right,” Crowfeather meowed, with a curt nod in the direction of the blind medicine cat. “Besides, Harestar and WindClan will not accept ThunderClan murdering their leader and putting another cat in his place. We’d never get away with it.”

“That’s true,” Violetshine agreed. “And Leafstar and Misty-star will probably feel the same way.”

“But Leafstar said she would act to stop Bramblestar hurting other cats,” Rootpaw pointed out. “Maybe if we told her about the time the impostor tried to kill Sparkpelt, SkyClan would turn against him.”

Twigbranch shook her head. “There’s not enough evidence. Bramblestar sent Sparkpelt to the place where she was attacked by dogs, and a trail of prey-scent led to that place, but there’s no actual proof that the false Bramblestar was responsible for the attack. I know Leafstar well, from the time I spent in SkyClan. She won’t even twitch a whisker until she’s sure.”

Lionblaze stepped forward, his voice rumbling deep within his chest. “Maybe killing Bramblestar is the right move,” he growled. “He’s controlling all five Clans now, not just ThunderClan, and he’ll destroy everything if he isn’t stopped. But we need to think it through first.”

Squirrelflight stared down at him from her place on the rock, shock and disbelief in her eyes. “I can’t believe I heard you say that!” she gasped. “I can’t believe you would even consider killing Bramblestar. He’s not just your Clan leader—he’s been like a father to you.”

Lionblaze opened his jaws to respond, then closed them again, shaking his head in confusion. He mumbled something that Bristlefrost couldn’t catch.

Tigerstar took control of the meeting again, raising one paw in a commanding gesture. “One course of action is before us,” he announced. “To kill Bramblestar’s body.” His gaze scorched across the assembled cats like flame through dry grass. “But Squirrelflight might be right that it’s not time yet. We don’t want to start a battle against RiverClan, WindClan, and ThunderClan, and right now they’d be allied against us, and we don’t know what Leafstar would decide. No cat will harm Bramblestar until we have had time to think and make sure this is what we all want to do. Then we will come up with a plan.” He gave a final wave of his tail. “For now, the meeting is over.”

As she headed away from ShadowClan territory, Bristlefrost felt her legs shaking with every paw step. She had suspected that telling the others about seeing Bramblestar returning to camp covered in blood would put his life in danger, and she was right. She wasn’t completely surprised that they were now suggesting killing Bramblestar’s body, but she was certain that it would be a huge mistake.

If they succeeded, what then? she asked herself despairingly. With his body dead, they might never get the real Bramblestar back—and ThunderClan would be ripped apart for good.