Эрин Хантер - Veil Of Shadows

Bristlefrost cringed inwardly, because she knew where the impostor’s words came from. She remembered what she had told him when he was grieving for Squirrelflight: that he’d need to depend on loyal warriors.

I meant the exiled ones. But clearly, he took it differently.

Bramblestar turned back to Sparkpelt, who was watching him warily, seemingly realizing that her appeal had done more harm than good. “A cat who respects the code must always obey her leader,” he told her in a condescending tone. “She must never question him—”

“The warrior code was given to us by StarClan,” Sparkpelt interrupted, her neck fur beginning to bristle again. “But now StarClan has disappeared! And how do you ever expect to connect to them again if you’ve exiled all the medicine cats?”

Bristlefrost saw Bramblestar begin to swell with fury, his amber eyes smoldering. “It’s because of cats like you that StarClan has abandoned us!” he hissed at Sparkpelt. “Cats who did not trust their leaders! But not anymore. Sparkpelt, you are no longer a ThunderClan cat. You are exiled !”

Sparkpelt’s eyes widened in dismay, but before she could respond, a scratchy voice piped up. “A good warrior doesn’t follow their leader off a cliff.”

Bristlefrost turned to see Graystripe stepping forward through the ring of cats who surrounded Bramblestar and Sparkpelt. “A good leader doesn’t expect blind loyalty,” he continued. “Firestar certainly never led like that. And neither did you, Bramblestar—not before you lost a life. Only a weak leader demands obedience at any cost. Only a—”

He broke off as Bramblestar flashed out a paw and raked him across the nose, leaving a long bloody scratch. A gasp rose up from the surrounding warriors.

Almost at once Graystripe recovered, drawing himself up so that Bristlefrost could imagine the formidable warrior he had once been. “Bramblestar would never have hurt his own warrior,” he meowed. “I don’t know who you are . . . but you’re not our leader!”

Bristlefrost was amazed at how close the elder had come to the truth. Surely every cat must see how wise he is!

“If you believe that,” Bramblestar snapped at Graystripe, “then you can leave with Sparkpelt.” With a glance at the assembled crowd, he added, “And so can any other cat who doesn’t understand loyalty .”

Blossomfall hesitated before padding forward to stand beside her father, Graystripe. Her brother, Bumblestripe, followed her, and a heartbeat later Cinderheart joined them, along with her apprentice, Finchpaw. Sparkpelt looked at her kit and nodded silently. Bristlefrost saw her own parents, Ivypool and Fernsong, exchange a glance and a few quick words. Ivypool’s paws twitched, and for a moment it seemed like she would walk out, but then she shot a concerned look toward Bristlefrost and Flipclaw.

They won’t leave without us, Bristlefrost realized. And even if Flipclaw wants to go, the Clan needs him.

Then to her amazement her sister, Thriftear, padded up to their parents, gave each of them a quick nuzzle, and joined the cats who were leaving. She shot a swift glance at Bristlefrost, then immediately looked away.

The group of exiled cats headed across the camp toward the thorn tunnel, without another word to Bramblestar. Bristlefrost remembered Tigerstar’s words at the Gathering. At this rate, there’ll be more ThunderClan cats wandering the forest than in your camp.

“Go then, filthy mange-pelts!” the impostor yowled. “Get out and don’t come crawling back!” Whirling around, he faced the warriors who remained. “Remember that I expect loyalty,” he snarled. “And if any cat knows that a Clanmate is not loyal . . . come and see me.”

His tail whipping to and fro, he stalked back to the tumbled rocks and climbed up to his den.

After the exiles had disappeared, Bristlefrost remained staring at the thorn tunnel for a few more heartbeats. She was so shocked by what had happened that she thought she might never move again. At last she forced herself to glance around at her Clanmates, who all looked just as stunned and horrified as she felt. She could smell their fear, spreading over the camp like a poisonous mist.

“I’ll talk to him,” she meowed, bracing herself.

Climbing up to the Highledge, she could feel her Clanmates’ hostility and hear their voices mocking the offer she had made. She didn’t waver or look back. She padded toward the entrance of the den and was just about to enter when she heard Bramblestar already talking to some cat.

Not talking . . . arguing.

“How dare you question me?” he snarled. “I’ll show you! I’ll show them all! I’ll make them regret what they’ve done to me. . . .”

Setting down her paws as softly as if she were stalking a mouse, Bristlefrost edged forward and peered into the entrance. Bramblestar stood with his back to her. His tail was twitching to and fro, while his neck fur was bristling and his ears were flattened.

But no cat was with him in the den.

Her whole body shaking uncontrollably, Bristlefrost backed away.

Chapter 19

Shadowsight slid into shelter under a bush at the edge of the exiles’ camp. Every day since the Gathering had been dark and dreary, with hardly any respite from the inexorable wind and rain. Now, as darkness fell, the clouds seemed to be breaking up, but the waning moon was weak and pallid, shedding hardly any light over the clearing.

Cats filled the camp: most of ShadowClan, all the exiles, and the surviving members of the rebel group. Shadowsight drank in their mingled scents, but he could see little more than their dark shapes and the occasional gleam of eyes.

Tigerstar was standing on a flat rock beside the stream, his head raised as he addressed the crowd. “I’ve spoken to Puddleshine,” he announced, “and he told me what happened at last night’s half-moon meeting. Puddleshine, I think we all need to hear this.”

I wish I’d been there, Shadowsight thought wistfully, knowing that he wasn’t strong enough yet to travel as far as the Moonpool.

The medicine cat, who was sitting at the base of the rock where his Clan leader stood, rose to his paws. “I don’t believe Flipclaw even knew he should come. But at the meeting, Kestrelflight and Willowshine both promised to let their leaders know about Rootspring’s seeing Bramblestar’s ghost, how he showed us a blurry form that might have been that ghost, and what Shadowsight claims he saw while he was between worlds,” he announced.

“What about the way Alderheart was exiled and Flipclaw was forced to take his place?” Frecklewish asked.

“Yes, that too,” Puddleshine meowed. “So earlier today they paid me a visit to tell me how their leaders took it.”

“That’s good,” Crowfeather commented. “What happened?”

“According to Kestrelflight and Willowshine,” Puddleshine replied, “Mistystar and Harestar both had . . . spirited discussions with their deputies and their most trusted warriors.”

Crowfeather let out a snort of wry amusement. “Spirited, hmm? So how much fur was flying?”

Tigerstar batted at Crowfeather with his tail, though the WindClan cat was too far away for the slap to connect. “That’s not helping,” Tigerstar growled.

“Tigerstar, let me explain,” Puddleshine mewed swiftly. “Apparently Mistystar decided that all the evidence was coming from cats she didn’t know well enough to trust, and she couldn’t turn on another leader without StarClan’s guidance. In the end, she still believes that Bramblestar knows the most about how to get StarClan back.”

“And Harestar?” Crowfeather asked.