Bramblestar’s Storm

Tawnypelt raised her head again, her green gaze locking with her brother’s. “Do you really mean that? Because I don’t think we can fight these badgers alone. We’re too weak, too hungry.”

Bramblestar gazed at her. “Are you asking for ThunderClan’s help?”

Tawnypelt took a deep breath. “Yes,” she meowed. “I am.”

Chapter 28

Bramblestar’s mind was whirling as he went back to Brackenfur and Graystripe. He said nothing to his warriors, and they accepted his silence and didn’t question him.

Rowanstar made it clear that he didn’t want any more interference from ThunderClan, Bramblestar thought as he led the way back to camp. I respect that. But it’s clear that ShadowClan is in great trouble. Can I stand aside and let them fall? That night, as he curled up in his nest, Bramblestar raised his head and prayed silently to StarClan. Send me a dream, he begged. Speak to me and tell me what I should do.

As sleep surged over him, Bramblestar found himself walking beside the lake—a lake shrunk back into its old boundaries. Pale sunlight glinted on the water, turning it to silver, the surface ruffled by a gentle breeze. Bramblestar looked around, expecting to see Firestar. Instead the wispy shape of an enormous cat began to appear on the other side of the lake, taller than the trees, broader than a Twoleg den, the tips of her ears reaching up to the clouds. As the figure grew more solid, Bramblestar saw that it was a dark gray she-cat with a broad, flat face and amber eyes. Not Firestar, but Yellowfang!

The former medicine cat stood at the edge of the lake, and at her paws the silver water turned red with blood: swirls of blood that rose to the surface of the water until the whole lake was scarlet.

Bramblestar’s eyes stretched wide. “Is that how much blood is going to be spilled?” he whispered.

“Blood does not have to mean death,” Yellowfang meowed, her voice echoing from the hills. “It can bring more strength than you can imagine.”

“What do you mean?” Bramblestar protested. “I don’t understand!”

But Yellowfang didn’t reply. Her form began to fade again, and at the same moment the scarlet water rose and flooded over Bramblestar, sweeping him off his feet. He struggled, flailing his paws, but the water choked him in its salty grip and he sank into a swirling darkness.

Bramblestar jolted awake, trembling. Faint moonlight spilled into the tunnel. He felt a paw on his shoulder, gently calming him, and looked up to see that Jessy had left her nest and was bending over him.

“Was it a bad dream?” she murmured.

“More than that,” Bramblestar muttered, staggering to his paws. “I need to speak with the medicine cats.”

“You can talk to me if you want,” Jessy offered.

“No, this is medicine-cat stuff.” Seeing Jessy’s hurt expression, Bramblestar added, “I’ll tell you later.”

He picked his way through the sleeping cats, heading farther down the tunnel to where the medicine cats slept. Jayfeather roused at the sound of his approach, though Leafpool remained curled up, sunk deeply in sleep.

“What do you want?” Jayfeather asked as Bramblestar reached his side.

“I need to talk to you and Leafpool.”

Jayfeather whisked out his tail to block Bramblestar as he reached out a paw to shake Leafpool’s shoulder. “Let her sleep,” he warned. “She was up earlier to give Sandstorm some tansy for her cough. We can wake her later if we need her.”

Bramblestar nodded. “Let’s talk outside.”

In the open, he took a long breath of the clear, cool air. The night was calm and quiet, with not even a faint breeze to stir the branches. The moon was floating above the trees, beginning to swell toward full.

“Leafpool and I have missed a medicine-cat meeting at the Moonpool,” Jayfeather remarked. “But I doubt many of the others were there. RiverClan is still cut off, and we don’t know what the floods are like in the mountains.”

“I hope we can get to the next Gathering,” Bramblestar mewed. “We’ve already missed one. Have you had any omens about the water going down?”

Jayfeather shook his head. “Not a whisper. Only the signs of the waterline dropping below the sticks on the slope.”

Bramblestar sighed. “I suppose we can only wait. But meanwhile,” he continued, trying to feel more optimistic, “the kittypets are settling in well. Especially Jessy. Did you hear how much fresh-kill she brought in from her last patrol?”

Jayfeather gave him a sidelong glance, his narrowed blue eyes so sharp that it was hard to remember he was blind. “You’re spending a lot of time with Jessy…” he murmured. “You shouldn’t let any cats think you care more for the kittypets than your Clanmates.”