Veil Of Shadows

Chapter 15

Raised voices from outside in the camp woke Bristlefrost from her nap in the warriors’ den. Still heavy with sleep, she stumbled to her paws and poked her head out of the entrance to see what was going on. The wind of earlier in the day had dropped, but a thin drizzle was falling; Bristlefrost flicked her ears at its chilly touch.

A moment later her eyes widened and she forgot all about the rain. Rosepetal and Bumblestripe, the border patrol, had returned to the camp, and between them, limping and weary but with her head held high, came Twigbranch.

Several of her Clanmates were rushing across the camp to greet her, letting out yowls of welcome. Bristlefrost joined them, delighted to see the gray she-cat returning from her atonement.

Twigbranch’s eyes were bright and determined, though she looked skinny, and her pelt could do with a good grooming. Bristlefrost guessed that her scruffy appearance was at least partly faked, in case any cat should ask awkward questions about where she had been staying.

Dipping her head in response to her Clanmates, Twigbranch drew to a halt as Berrynose shouldered his way through the crowd around her and looked her over, wrinkling his nose as if he were faced with a piece of crow-food.

“Greetings,” he meowed, his tone disdainful.

Twigbranch gave him a brisk nod but otherwise ignored him. “I need to see Bramblestar,” she announced, her tail-tip twitching with impatience.

Berrynose swiveled around until his gaze fell on Bristlefrost. “Go get him,” he ordered.

Bristlefrost bounded across the camp and climbed the tumbled rocks to the Highledge. Peering into Bramblestar’s den, she saw the false leader curled up asleep in his nest.

“Like he does anything else these days,” she muttered to herself.

Padding forward into the den, trying not to gag at the smell of stale prey scattered on the floor, Bristlefrost shook the impostor by the shoulder. “Wake up,” she mewed. “Twigbranch has come back.”

Bramblestar gazed up at her, blinking and bleary-eyed. “What?” he mumbled.

With an effort, Bristlefrost stopped her neck fur bushing up at his evident confusion. “Twigbranch has come back,” she repeated. “Remember, you sent her to atone for half a moon, and said she couldn’t come back unless she brought twenty pieces of prey.”

For a moment Bramblestar gaped in surprise, then jumped to his paws and strode out of his den. His confusion had vanished; he was focused and purposeful.

In the center of the camp Bramblestar threw his head back and let out a yowl. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here around me for a Clan meeting!”

The summons was hardly necessary, because so many of the cats were already out in the open, welcoming Twigbranch back home. The last few stragglers bounded up, while Twigbranch stepped forward to face the Clan leader, giving him a respectful dip of her head.

“Well?” Bramblestar asked. “Have you carried out the task I gave you?”

Twigbranch’s eyes shone with pride. “I have,” she replied. “And I need some cat to help me carry my prey into camp. It’s hidden under a bush just outside.”

Bramblestar twitched his ears toward the nearest warriors. “Finleap, Thriftear, go and help her.”

Bristlefrost watched as Twigbranch led the way out of the camp; moments later the three cats returned, laden with prey, and set it down at Bramblestar’s paws. They had to go back a second time before they had brought it all: a row of mice, voles, squirrels, and a few birds, neatly set out in front of the Clan leader.

Wow! Bristlefrost thought. She knew the exiles had helped, but Twigbranch had insisted on catching most of the prey herself. She’s a brilliant hunter!

Bramblestar strolled along the line of prey, sniffing each piece as he counted it. When he reached the end he turned back to Twigbranch and gave her a nod. “So, Twigbranch,” he meowed. “What have you learned in the course of your atonement?”

Twigbranch straightened herself, exchanging a swift glance with Bristlefrost. She seemed eager to get this over with.

“I learned the importance of my Clan,” she replied, “and how wrong I was to doubt that I’m a ThunderClan cat. But I know now—I’m ThunderClan through and through!” Lowering her head in the deepest respect, she added, “In the hearing of every cat, I pledge my allegiance to ThunderClan, and to you, Bramblestar, as my leader.”

“And you will never question my authority?” Bramblestar demanded.

“I never will, I promise,” Twigbranch responded; her whiskers twitched, but she didn’t utter a word of complaint.

“Hmm . . .” Bramblestar began pacing back and forth in front of the line of prey. “Now every cat can see how important it is to be true to your Clan,” he began. “That is such a crucial part of the warrior code, even though so many cats seem to forget it these days.”

What is he rambling on about? Bristlefrost wondered, flicking raindrops from her ears. Why can’t he just welcome Twigbranch back and let us all get back someplace dry? She guessed that Twigbranch was just waiting to settle down and get some rest, and Finleap, his eyes shining as he gazed at his mate, clearly couldn’t wait for the chance to share tongues with her and hear all about her adventures.

“So, among you all,” Bramblestar continued, “I imagine no cat has had her allegiance tested as much as Twigbranch.”

The gray she-cat nodded agreement, seeming to relax a little.

Bramblestar halted in his pacing and fixed her with a cold, unforgiving gaze. “That’s why it’s such a pity that I can’t allow you back into ThunderClan.”

“What?” Several warriors let out yowls of shock. Finleap didn’t speak, but Bristlefrost was shaken at his look of stunned disappointment as he glanced from his mate to Bramblestar and back again. Twigbranch simply stared at the Clan leader, her disbelief at what she was hearing obvious.

“You can atone all you want, Twigbranch,” Bramblestar went on, “but that can’t undo the fact that you are a codebreaker, one of those so named in Shadowsight’s vision. I can’t possibly let you back into the Clan. Given what happened to Squirrelflight”—he paused, a pained look flashing in his eyes—“and Flipclaw’s prophetic dream, I’m more sure than ever that leniency for the codebreakers is not what StarClan wants.”

“But—but I atoned!” Twigbranch stammered, casting a confused glance at Flipclaw. “If you were just going to kick me out anyway, why did you let me atone?”

“You insisted on atoning,” Bramblestar sneered. “I never said it would make a difference one way or the other.”

Even before he had finished speaking, Twigbranch’s Clanmates began to let out furious protests in her defense.

“That’s not fair!”

“You did promise her!”

“Twigbranch is a loyal warrior!”

Bramblestar raked the assembled cats with a hard glare, his shoulder fur bristling. “Do you like living in safety?” he demanded. “Having plenty of prey to hunt and a warm camp to return to at night? Then you should want me to exile Twigbranch! We’ve seen how StarClan has punished us with wind and rain this newleaf. So far, ThunderClan has been spared the struggles some other Clans have faced . . . don’t you wonder why?”

Bristlefrost looked around at her Clanmates’ faces. Do they believe that? Newleaf was often windy and rainy, and it was ThunderClan’s location in the forest that kept them well fed and protected. But of course Bramblestar would try to take credit.

It seemed to be working. The warriors’ protests died into an indignant muttering, but soon Finleap’s voice rose above them all. “If Twigbranch is leaving, then so am I,” he meowed, pressing himself against his mate’s side.

Bramblestar let out a snort of amused contempt. “You won’t be missed,” he mocked. “I want loyal warriors only—warriors who will serve without question! Not cats who just followed their mate from one Clan to another.”

For a few heartbeats the Clan seemed frozen between anger at the way Bramblestar was treating Twigbranch, and fear of what might happen if she was allowed to stay. Then a quiet voice spoke up from the direction of the medicine cats’ den, and Alderheart padded up to stand beside Twigbranch and Finleap. Bristlefrost was stunned by the suppressed fury in the gentle medicine cat’s voice and in his eyes as he faced Bramblestar.

“In all the times I have shared dreams with StarClan,” Alderheart began, “our warrior ancestors have never asked any cat to serve a leader without question. Sometimes it’s right to question! How much more devastation would Darktail have caused if none of his followers had questioned him?”

Bristlefrost suppressed a shudder as she remembered the stories the older warriors told about the cat who had brought a band of rogues into the lake territory and almost destroyed the Clans before he was killed and his followers scattered. Alderheart is right! No leader should be obeyed without question.

Bramblestar thrust out his head toward Alderheart. It was still a shock to see so much hostility from their leader toward his son—but she reminded herself that this cat was not the real Bramblestar, and he was not Alderheart’s father.

“The code says you will obey your leader!” Bramblestar hissed. “But since you’ve made it clear you can’t do that, you can leave too. ThunderClan has no use for a faithless medicine cat!”

Alderheart faced the Clan leader without flinching. His ears were flattened and his tail-tip flicked to and fro. He was clearly at the end of his patience. “What about a faithless leader?” he retorted.

For answer, Bramblestar drew his lips back in a snarl. “Get out!”

A rumble of protest came from the assembled cats, their concern clear in their wide, anxious eyes and bristling fur. This can’t be happening! Bristlefrost thought, every hair on her pelt tingling with apprehension. But it looks like Alderheart has taken all he can.

It was her mother, Ivypool, who voiced what every cat was thinking. “If Alderheart leaves,” she pointed out, “then ThunderClan will have no medicine cat. Surely that can’t be what you want, Bramblestar?”

The Clan leader angled his ears toward Flipclaw, who was standing at the front of the crowd, gaping with horror as he realized where this was leading.

“We do have an apprentice,” Bramblestar meowed. “Flipclaw had that prophetic dream, and he has been studying herbs with Alderheart long enough to know what to do. What more does a Clan need?”

Every cat’s gaze shifted to Flipclaw, doubt and worry in their eyes, and Flipclaw bowed his head miserably, staring at his own paws.

“I’m sorry, Flipclaw.” Alderheart cast a sympathetic glance at the younger cat. “You don’t deserve to be put in this position. But I can’t stay to watch ThunderClan become a mockery of itself.”

With a sweep of his tail he signaled to Finleap and a stunned Twigbranch, and led the way out of the camp. Bristlefrost watched as they disappeared into the thorn tunnel, wondering if somehow this could all be a hideous dream. She bit her lip, and the pain assured her that it was really happening.

At least Twigbranch knows about the exiles’ camp on ShadowClan territory, she reflected. And Alderheart can be reunited with his mother. . . .

With the departure of the three exiles, the meeting was at an end, and the crowd of cats split up into small groups, their heads together as they whispered their disbelief. Bristlefrost exchanged a glance with her mother, Ivypool, and wondered whether she should tell her the truth—about the rebel cats, about everything.

Maybe Bramblestar is beyond control now, she thought despairingly. Maybe it’s time I took my family and escaped to the exiles’ camp. . . .

Bristlefrost took a hesitant step toward her mother, only to be intercepted by Bramblestar, who came bounding up to her. “I want to talk to you, Bristlefrost,” he announced. “You’re the only one I can trust. Follow me.”

He headed for the thorn tunnel, and Bristlefrost had no choice but to obey him, warily treading in his paw steps as they entered the forest. Bramblestar seemed on edge, casting nervous glances in all directions and sometimes whipping around as if he was facing some imaginary threat.

“I’ve heard rumors some cats are working against me,” he told Bristlefrost, leading her into the shelter of a hazel thicket. “I want to know what you think, Bristlefrost.”

A chill crept through Bristlefrost from ears to tail-tip. Does he know the truth, she asked herself, that I’m one of those cats? These days Bramblestar seemed so erratic that she wouldn’t be surprised if he suspected every cat, whether he had evidence or not.

Her chill deepened as she realized that she had followed him into a dark part of the forest. If he wanted to make her disappear, like Shadowsight, this would be a good place.

“I have my doubts about Berrynose,” Bramblestar went on. “Surely all that loyalty must be an act—don’t you think so?”

At his words, Bristlefrost became a little reassured. She realized that Bramblestar truly had no idea what was going on, and was genuinely anxious for her opinion.

“Well,” she began, “I don’t really know—”

She broke off with a gasp of horror as a group of cats slipped out of the undergrowth, creeping toward Bramblestar as quietly as if they were stalking a mouse. Death glinted in their eyes and on their outstretched claws.

Stemleaf and Spotfur . . . oh, and Conefoot, Kitescratch, and Dappletuft! What are they doing? They promised Tigerstar they wouldn’t kill Bramblestar!

Her gasp alerted Bramblestar, who spun around before the rebel cats could reach him, and let out a yowl as he leaped at his attackers. They sprang forward, letting out earsplitting shrieks and swarming closer in a circle of teeth and claws.

For a moment, Bristlefrost stood frozen, staring at the whirling group of cats. She caught Stemleaf’s gaze, knowing he would expect her to fight at his side, but at the same moment Bramblestar screeched out her name.

“Bristlefrost—get help! There must be a patrol nearby!”

Her heart pounding, Bristlefrost fled through the trees, back toward the camp. Who should I be helping? she asked herself. She didn’t want Bramblestar killed; there would be no chance of getting the real Bramblestar back if his body was destroyed. And I promised Squirrelflight I would protect him. But at the same time she didn’t want Stemleaf and the other rebels to be wounded in a fight. There’s no way to win!

Too shocked and fearful to listen or taste the air for signs of a patrol, Bristlefrost had almost reached the camp when she spotted Berrynose, bounding out of the thorn tunnel and looking around with alarm in his eyes.

“Did you hear anything?” he asked Bristlefrost as she raced up to him. “I thought I heard Bramblestar yowl.”

Bristlefrost was suddenly sure of what she should do. “Yes, some cats attacked Bramblestar,” she replied. “And there may be more attackers coming. We have to help Bramblestar and get him out of there before we’re overwhelmed.”

Maybe I can get Berrynose to focus on saving Bramblestar—and his body—not fighting against the rebels.

Berrynose paused for a heartbeat, staring at Bristlefrost in consternation, then spun around and raced back through the thorn tunnel. Bristlefrost heard his voice raised in a yowl to summon more warriors.

Moments later Berrynose was back, with Dewnose, Sorrelstripe, and Snaptooth hard on his paws. “Lead the way!” Berrynose snapped at Bristlefrost.

As Bristlefrost pelted through the forest, the screeches and snarls of battle grew louder in her ears. As she burst out into the open, she saw that Shellfur and Leafshade had appeared and were fighting shoulder to shoulder with Bramblestar.

They must be the patrol Bramblestar told me to find.

She noticed too that there were fewer of the rebels than she had thought at first. As soon as she appeared with Berrynose and the others, Spotfur and Kitescratch backed away, staring at them in dismay, then spun around and fled.

Bramblestar turned toward his rescuers, his chest heaving and his muzzle covered with blood. While Berrynose and the rest of his warriors surrounded him, Bristlefrost noticed the blood streaking the grass and pooling in the hollows; the reek of it caught her in the throat. And she saw the three limp bundles of fur lying motionless in the middle of it.

Conefoot . . . Dappletuft . . . and—oh, no, it’s Stemleaf!

Bristlefrost bounded over to the white-and-orange tom, stretching out a paw to rouse him. But she halted before she could touch him, staring down into his open, lifeless eyes. “No . . . ,” she whispered.

She remembered her time as an apprentice, when she had filled her mind with pictures of what her life would be like with Stemleaf as her mate. Everything would have been so different if he could have loved her back, and if Bramblestar had never died and come back as whoever or whatever he was now. . . .

Dimly Bristlefrost became aware that Bramblestar was speaking to her, but all she could hear was a whirring in her head, as if she had thrust herself into an enormous nest of bees. Her legs wouldn’t support her anymore; she felt herself falling, and a soft surge of darkness enfolded her.

“Oh, thank StarClan you’re awake!”

Bristlefrost blinked, and the familiar outlines of the medicine-cat den swam into focus around her. Flipclaw was bending over her, his eyes full of relief.

“I’m pretty sure those were thyme leaves I gave you, and not daisy,” he chattered on. “I’m always mixing those up. But you’re awake now, and getting over the shock, so I must have gotten it right. Anyway, even if it was daisy leaves, they would just make sure your joints don’t ache, so it’s not like they would harm you. . . .”

As he finished speaking, Brightheart stepped forward from the shadows. “Don’t worry, Bristlefrost,” she mewed, her one good eye shining with sympathy. “And Flipclaw, don’t forget that I checked the leaves, too. Bristlefrost will be fine.”

Bristlefrost gazed up at her, confused. “I never knew you were a medicine cat.”

“I’m not,” Brightheart explained. “But way back, Cinderpelt taught me the basics of healing, and I won’t let Flipclaw hurt any cat.”

“Thank StarClan,” Bristlefrost murmured feebly. “And thank you, Brightheart.” Reaching out to put a paw over Flipclaw’s, she added, “What happened?”

Brightheart’s eye darkened and she backed away, while Flipclaw’s expression grew suddenly somber. “How much do you remember?” he asked his sister.

Bristlefrost struggled with the fog in her mind, thinking back until the picture of the battle’s aftermath grew bright and horrific in her memory. Her belly convulsed and she retched, vomit rising into her throat. “I think . . . I think Stemleaf is dead,” she whispered when she could speak again.

Flipclaw nodded sadly. “Yes, he is. Conefoot of ShadowClan and Dappletuft from RiverClan are dead too. And—”

He broke off as Bramblestar thrust his way past the bramble screen and into the den. “Good, you’re finally awake,” he began. “I have to speak to you—alone.”

Bristlefrost saw that apart from a scratch on his muzzle and a few missing clumps of fur, the impostor seemed to be uninjured. Whoever he is, he’s a formidable fighter, she thought.

“Flipclaw, you’re doing a great job,” Bramblestar continued. “You’re going to be a terrific medicine cat.”

Flipclaw looked doubtful but said nothing, merely giving his leader a nod and ducking out of the den.

As he departed, Bramblestar spotted Brightheart in the shadows by the herb store at the back of the den. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, giving her a startled look.

“I’ve just come to help Flipclaw,” Brightheart explained.

The false Bramblestar’s shoulder fur began to bristle, and he shook his head. “No, that won’t do,” he snapped. “You’re an elder, not a medicine cat! Sometimes the elders want special treatment, and sometimes they want to take over the duties of younger cats! I’m your leader, and I’m telling you to get out! How will Flipclaw ever learn if you’re here?”

“But how will he learn if there’s no cat to teach him?” Brightheart protested. “I only know a little, but—”

“Are you arguing with me?” Bramblestar growled. “I told you to go, so go!”

Brightheart let out a sigh, casting a regretful look at Bristlefrost, then brushed past the bramble screen and out into the camp.

Once she was gone, Bramblestar padded up to Bristlefrost, his shoulder fur lying flat again. “What a brave and loyal warrior you are!” he meowed. “I admit,” he continued with an uneasy twitch of his whiskers, “that I doubted your loyalty in the past. A smart leader must have some doubts about all his followers, even the best of them. But now you’ve proven yourself as my strongest ally in ThunderClan.”

Uncomfortable with his praise, Bristlefrost opened her jaws to protest, but the false Bramblestar swept on, disregarding her.

“I knew cats were working against me, and my suspicions have been proven right. Now we must travel to the other Clans and let them know about the traitors in their ranks. With you as my deputy, we can—”

“Wait—what?” Bristlefrost exclaimed, scrambling to sit upright. She was sure she couldn’t have heard what she thought Bramblestar had just said. “What happened to Berrynose? He’s a very good deputy. Without him, you might not be alive now!”

Bramblestar loomed over her, a purr rumbling in his chest. “You’re generous to say so, Bristlefrost, but I know the truth. Berrynose was too slow to bring help. He should have been there faster than the patrol. He should have fought to kill, instead of letting cats get away!”

“But Berrynose did his best,” Bristlefrost began to argue. “He ran as fast—”

“Calm down, Bristlefrost,” Bramblestar meowed. “I know who I can trust now, and that’s what’s important. That’s why I’m exiling Berrynose and making you my new deputy.”

He did say what I thought he said!

“But I haven’t had an apprentice yet,” Bristlefrost pointed out, “so I can’t be deputy. It goes against the warrior code!”

The false Bramblestar seemed untroubled by the implication that he himself might be codebreaking. “You won’t remember this,” he meowed, “because it happened long before you were born, but I myself was made deputy before I had an apprentice. StarClan sent a vision to Leafpool that I was the right cat. And now I feel the same certainty about you.”

But StarClan hasn’t sent you a vision—have they? Bristlefrost thought doubtfully. Every hair on her pelt was prickling with horror at the thought of trying to take authority over warriors who were so much more experienced than she was.

“Now that you’re awake, we’ll announce your new position to the whole Clan,” Bramblestar told her, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Bristlefrost stared at him in disbelief. “But I—”

“No buts!” the impostor insisted. “Remember that the new deputy must be appointed before moonhigh. Get up; we’ll tell them all now.”

There was no way for Bristlefrost to refuse. Slowly she rose to her paws, feeling her legs shaking as she padded after Bramblestar. Her head swam, and she felt as though this must all be a hideous dream.

Outside in the camp the rain had stopped, but the air was still raw and damp. Bristlefrost shivered as the chill penetrated her pelt. Clouds covered the sky, and the daylight was fading; she guessed she had lain unconscious in the medicine cats’ den for a long time.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join me here for a Clan meeting!” Bramblestar yowled.

The warriors began to gather, most of them exchanging confused glances as they formed a circle around their Clan leader. Bristlefrost heard Thornclaw mutter to Mousewhisker, “For StarClan’s sake, what now?”

Flipclaw reappeared to stand outside his den, and Cloudtail led the elders over to stand at the back of the crowd. Even Daisy emerged from the nursery to see what was going on.

“My life was in danger today,” Bramblestar began when all the Clan was assembled. “Some of my warriors rose to the occasion—and others didn’t. Berrynose, come here.”

The cream-colored tom stepped forward eagerly, his head raised with pride as he stood beside his leader. Bristlefrost couldn’t help feeling sorry for him; he had worked hard as Bramblestar’s deputy, and he clearly had no idea of what was coming.

“You failed me today.” Bramblestar’s voice was harsh. “I can’t trust you any longer. From this moment you are no longer deputy of ThunderClan.”

Berrynose stared at him, his jaw dropping and his eyes wide with dismay. “But—but Bramblestar,” he stammered. “I did my best—”

The impostor cut through his excuses. “Then your best wasn’t good enough. You are no longer deputy, or a member of this Clan. Leave now.”

For a moment longer Berrynose stared at his leader. Bristlefrost heard a low wail from a cat in the crowd, and realized it came from Berrynose’s mate, Poppyfrost. He turned his head to give her a long look, then headed for the thorn tunnel, his tail trailing in the mud.

Shocked murmurs were rising from the crowd of cats as they watched the exiled deputy leave. Berrynose had never been a popular cat, but he had been an efficient deputy, and Bristlefrost could see how his Clanmates thought his banishment was unfair.

“So, now I must appoint a new deputy,” Bramblestar announced proudly when Berrynose had vanished. “I say these words before StarClan, that the spirits of our ancestors may hear and approve my choice. Bristlefrost will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”

Bristlefrost cringed as the Clan erupted in yowls of protest and concern. Several of her Clanmates were glaring at her, their fur bristling. She wished that she could vanish like a mouse into a gap beneath a tree root. But she had to stay and listen to the warriors arguing over their leader’s decision.

“Bristlefrost?”

“But she’s barely even a warrior!”

“She hasn’t had an apprentice!”

“Enough!” Bramblestar cut off the objections with a furious lash of his tail. “Who is leader?” he demanded. “What is the only thing standing between you and StarClan’s wrath? Remember that StarClan already killed Squirrelflight—or have you forgotten already?”

The warriors grew silent, staring at their leader with open mouths. Bristlefrost’s pelt prickled with anger: So Bramblestar had already gone from blaming himself for Squirrelflight’s supposed death to implying that it was a punishment from StarClan. Was there any situation he wouldn’t twist to his own ends?

After several moments, Molewhisker spoke up hesitantly. “We’re loyal to you, Bramblestar. It’s just . . . well, if we’re being so careful to follow the code, isn’t it against the code to choose a cat as deputy when she hasn’t had an apprentice?”

Bristlefrost expected Bramblestar to unleash his fury. Instead he seemed to grow calmer. He glared at Molewhisker, his eyes flickering; as Bristlefrost watched him, her pads tingled with a mixture of fear and confusion.

For a heartbeat there, I thought his eyes looked blue.

Then Bramblestar spoke, his voice quiet, but full of menace. “I am your leader. My word is the code.”