Bramblestar’s Storm

But the badger didn’t know where the tree trunk was. There was a huge splash, soaking both cats, as it plunged into the stream and vanished beneath the surface. Moments later it reappeared as the current washed it down toward the lake, sputtering and bellowing as it thrashed its paws.

Jessy’s eyes gleamed as she watched it out of sight. Then both cats jumped back to the bank and shook water from their pelts. Bramblestar wanted to let out a yowl of pure joy and admiration for Jessy’s courage and quick thinking.

Instead he gave her a nod. “Not bad—for a kittypet,” he meowed.

Jessy let out a small mrrow of amusement. “Not bad—for a wild cat,” she retorted.

Together Bramblestar and Jessy raced back to the clearing, to find that the rest of the badgers had gone. Warriors from ShadowClan and ThunderClan stood side by side, their chests heaving, blood trickling from their wounds, as they assessed the damage.

“How’s Crowfrost?” Bramblestar demanded. He couldn’t see the ShadowClan deputy, and knew how badly hurt he had been.

“He’ll be okay,” Pouncetail replied. “Pinenose and Stoatfur are helping him back to see Littlecloud.”

Looking around at the rest of the cats, Bramblestar saw that none of them was unmarked. Spiderleg was one of the worst injured, with almost all his fur missing from one side, while Scorchfur had both ears slashed, and Ivypool was standing on three legs with one paw raised and bleeding. But all the wounds looked as if they would heal in time.

We won! Bramblestar thought, exhilaration flooding through him. We defeated the badgers and survived!

Then he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He turned to see Brightheart, her single eye full of sorrow. “It’s Dustpelt,” she whispered.

With a lurch of horror in his belly, Bramblestar followed Brightheart across the clearing. Dustpelt was lying on his side in the midst of the trampled debris from the battle. Blood was trickling from his mouth and his brown tabby body was lacerated with countless claw marks. His eyes were closed and his breath came in short, shallow puffs.

Bramblestar crouched beside him. “Hold on, Dustpelt,” he begged. “We’ll get help.”

The tabby tom’s eyes flickered open. “It’s okay,” he rasped. “It’s my time.”

“No!” cried Bramblestar. He leaned forward so that his forehead rested against Dustpelt’s. “Not yet. Not here. You have served your Clan so well and for so long. Now it is our turn to serve you. The elders’ den is waiting for you, Dustpelt.”

The tip of Dustpelt’s tail twitched. “That is not where I want to be,” he murmured. “Thank you, Bramblestar, for everything. May StarClan light your path, always.”

The ShadowClan cats stood back and allowed Dustpelt’s Clanmates to gather around him as his breathing grew feebler and his eyes closed again. As Dustpelt sighed out his last breath, a pale gray shape appeared beside him, a cat with a pale gray pelt that glimmered in the moonlight, and the frosty glitter of stars around her paws. Her blue eyes shone with love as she gazed at the fallen warrior.

“Ferncloud!” Bramblestar breathed.

Other, fainter shapes appeared behind her: Bramblestar recognized Foxleap, who had died from his wounds after the Great Battle; Icecloud, who had succumbed to the recent bout of greencough; and others with them, all the lost kits of Dustpelt and Ferncloud, warriors of StarClan who had come to honor their father. Bramblestar stared in amazement as the spirit of Dustpelt rose from his mutilated body and padded up to Ferncloud, bending his head to touch noses with her. The two cats twined their tails together and for a moment the clearing shone even more brightly with silver light. Then the starry shapes began to fade, until all that was left was a few wisps of shimmering mist, and then nothing.

A long sigh escaped Bramblestar. His grief at Dustpelt’s death was tinged with a strange feeling of joy. He found it so hard to go on without Ferncloud, and now they’re together again.

Bramblestar realized that Tawnypelt was standing at his side. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, dipping her head toward Dustpelt. “He was a noble warrior. All of the Clans will grieve for him.”

Bramblestar nodded. “May he be at peace now.” He suddenly felt exhausted, bitterly aware of every scratch and bite on his pelt. He wondered if his legs had enough strength to carry him back to his own territory.

Tawnypelt traced his flank with the tip of her tail. “I can never thank you enough for what you did tonight,” she purred. “This was more than ThunderClan protecting its own hunting grounds, wasn’t it? You came because you are my brother, and I needed you.”