Эрин Хантер - Veil Of Shadows

For a few heartbeats she stood still, looking down at the wretched creature who was supposed to be her Clan leader. Then an idea crept into her mind.

“Maybe instead of seeing Squirrelflight’s death as a punishment,” she suggested to Bramblestar, “you should make sure she didn’t die in vain.”

Bramblestar raised his head and gave her a wary glance. “What does that mean?” he rasped.

“You know that Squirrelflight was a good cat,” Bristlefrost told him. “Even if she was named as a codebreaker. It’s not too late to turn things around, to make things right. In Squirrelflight’s memory, you could rededicate yourself to making ThunderClan the strongest and most prosperous Clan. That means trusting your loyal warriors.”

Bramblestar’s gaze narrowed. “My loyal warriors,” he repeated. Bristlefrost thought that a glow began to kindle in the depths of his amber eyes. Her heart lurched, and for a moment she could hardly get her breath, in fear that he would punish her for her boldness. It’s not my place to advise a Clan leader!

But before Bramblestar could say any more, the sound of paw steps came from the Highledge, and Alderheart slid inside the den. Bristlefrost shivered, thankful that her sense of menace had evaporated at the medicine cat’s appearance.

“You wanted to see me?” Alderheart asked, casting a curious glance between Bramblestar and Bristlefrost.

“You took your time,” Bramblestar grumbled. “Where have you been?”

“I was out collecting herbs,” Alderheart explained, dipping his head respectfully. “I only just got your message. Are you hurt?”

“Of course I’m hurt!” Bramblestar snapped. “Why else would I have called you here?”

Alderheart seemed unworried by the Clan leader’s irritable tone. “Then tell me what the problem is,” he mewed calmly.

“My chest hurts, and my fur itches.”

Padding across the den, Alderheart ran his paws carefully over Bramblestar’s body. He gave his pelt a good sniff, parting the strands of fur, and sniffed again around the Clan leader’s muzzle, his eyes and ears.

“I still can’t find anything wrong with you,” he pronounced at last.

Bramblestar convulsed in his nest, half sitting up. “That’s because you’re useless!” he hissed. “Just a second-rate medicine cat! Maybe I should have sent you away instead of Jayfeather. Even a blind cat could see something’s wrong with me.” Drawing his lips back in a snarl, he added, “Go get something to help me, or you can join Jayfeather in exile!”

Turning his head away, Bramblestar buried himself deeper in the moss and bracken of his nest.

With a slight twitch of her ears, Bristlefrost signaled to Alderheart to follow her out of the den. When they reached the Highledge, the medicine cat halted and faced her.

“I can’t help Bramblestar when there’s nothing wrong with him,” he complained, his tail-tip flicking to and fro in exasperation.

“I know,” Bristlefrost murmured. “But maybe you could bring him something to make him sleep. He might get back to normal if he could rest.”

“I hope so,” Alderheart agreed. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Some of the Clanmates who mean the most to me are gone, and the cats who remain are miserable.” It was clear to Bristlefrost that Alderheart was really referring to himself. His eyes were full of pain, reminding her that the real Bramblestar was Alderheart’s father as well as his Clan leader. This ordeal had been hard for all for them, but Alderheart had obviously been suffering more than most and keeping it to himself.

“I think he’s grieving for Squirrelflight,” she murmured, hoping at least a bit of explanation might help to ease Alderheart’s mind.

Alderheart nodded; Bristlefrost had told him about the former deputy’s deception. “He has some feelings, then,” he responded. “But I’m still convinced that something dark and terrible has taken over Bramblestar’s body.” His tail-tip twitched in frustration. “I’d join the exiles without a backward glance, but I can’t leave the Clan when I’m the only medicine cat left.”

“Oh, please don’t do that!” Bristlefrost exclaimed, alarm throbbing in her chest. “Don’t leave us to Flipclaw!”

Alderheart rolled his eyes. “Flipclaw!” he snarled. “StarClan help us all!”

He cast one final glance back into the den, then hurried off down the tumbled rocks.

Bristlefrost remained on the Highledge, looking out across the stone hollow. After a moment, she noticed Spotfur standing at the edge of the camp. Their gazes locked; then Spotfur angled her ears toward the thorn tunnel, clearly beckoning Bristlefrost to follow her out.

There must be another meeting of the rebel cats, Bristlefrost realized, her pelt tingling with a mixture of fear and excitement. I need to go.

She turned and craned her neck to look inside the den. Bramblestar was curled up in his nest, letting out a miserable whine. Bristlefrost knew that soon Alderheart would be back with herbs to help him sleep; this could be her best chance of slipping away unnoticed.

Bristlefrost padded quietly down into the camp, then followed Spotfur through the tunnel and into the forest. The spotted tabby she-cat led her through the undergrowth until they came upon Stemleaf waiting in the shelter of a holly bush. He rose to his paws and joined them as Spotfur turned and headed toward the lake.

None of the three cats spoke a word until they emerged from the trees and padded down a grassy bank to reach the strip of pebbles that bordered the lake. For the first time, Bristlefrost became confident that no cat was pursuing them.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” Spotfur responded, and refused to say more.

She set a brisk pace along the edge of the lake and across SkyClan territory. When they reached the ShadowClan border, Spotfur veered away from the water and led the way into the pine forest. The wind had risen again; branches creaked and thrashed above their heads, and Bristlefrost could hardly hear her own paw steps as she padded over the thick layer of needles that covered the ground.

At last she began to make out movement ahead, and she picked up the mingled scent of many cats. All the same, as she followed Spotfur, whisking around a sprawling bramble thicket, she was amazed to see the crowd of cats that met her gaze.

Bramblestar had exiled many cats, and had encouraged other Clans to exile theirs. Bristlefrost’s eyes flicked between Jayfeather, Squirrelflight, Crowfeather, Lionblaze, and Mothwing, along with most of ShadowClan. Now that they were allied with the rebels, there were almost enough of them to form a Clan of their own.

But that’s not what we want to do, she thought uneasily.

Noticing Twigbranch sitting by herself at the edge of the crowd, Bristlefrost padded over to her. “Greetings,” she mewed, sitting beside her. “Are you okay?”

Twigbranch shrugged uneasily. “I suppose . . . ,” she mewed. “To be honest, Bristlefrost, I don’t feel like I belong here. I can’t wait for the half-moon to be up so that I can go home.”

Bristlefrost stared at her in surprise. “You really want to do that—knowing the truth about Bramblestar?”

“Bramblestar isn’t the only cat in ThunderClan,” Twigbranch responded. “I love my Clan, and I think of myself as a ThunderClan cat. I’m going back as soon as I can.”

“But you can be a real help to us here,” Bristlefrost pointed out.

“I can be a real help there, too,” Twigbranch meowed. “I can’t turn my back on ThunderClan, but what I can do is resist the false Bramblestar from within. After all, Bristlefrost, isn’t that what you’re doing?”