Эрин Хантер - Veil Of Shadows

So many warriors dead or injured because of that evil thing inside Bramblestar.

Instead he glanced across the camp to where his father was deep in conversation with the other leaders and their deputies. Shadowsight noticed Bristlefrost hovering awkwardly on the edge of the group, clearly wishing she were anywhere else.

Tigerstar looked up and, spotting Shadowsight, beckoned him with a whisk of his tail. Shadowsight bounded over to join him, and Squirrelflight followed.

“How is that piece of fox dung?” Tigerstar demanded as Shadowsight halted in front of him.

No need to ask who he means! “I’ve treated his wounds,” Shadowsight replied, “but he’s not doing as well as I’d like. There’s still a chance he might not make it.”

Tigerstar nodded. “This means we have a big decision to make about the future of ThunderClan,” he told the others. “It still has a leader, but he’s in no fit state to lead—and he can’t be trusted. It also has a deputy who is clearly too young to take over the leadership.”

“Oh, thank StarClan!” Bristlefrost breathed out; she looked almost giddy with relief. Squirrelflight blinked at her affectionately, and even Tigerstar looked amused. I’m glad they’ve realized she was never on the impostor’s side, Shadowsight thought.

“Squirrelflight, you’re the obvious choice to lead ThunderClan now,” Tigerstar continued. “What do you think?”

Squirrelflight shook her head uncertainly. “I don’t know. . . . Strictly speaking, I’m not even a member of ThunderClan anymore, since I was sent into exile. Besides, Berrynose—”

“Berrynose is dead,” Tigerstar interrupted. “And the impostor had no authority to exile you or any other cat, or to replace you as deputy.”

“Please, Squirrelflight,” Mistystar pleaded, stretching out a paw toward her. “You are ThunderClan’s true deputy, and every cat in the forest trusts you.”

Squirrelflight ducked her head with embarrassment at the RiverClan leader’s praise, seeming more embarrassed still as the other leaders and deputies murmured their agreement. “Very well,” she mewed. “I’ll do it for the good of the Clan—but only temporarily, until we get the real Bramblestar back. Bristlefrost,” she added, turning to the pale gray she-cat, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you ought to be deputy. I’m going to choose Lionblaze.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry, Squirrelflight!” Bristlefrost burst out. “I never deserved to be deputy, and I’m sure StarClan would never have approved, no matter what the false Bramblestar said. I’m just not ready. I’m so glad to step back for a cat who’s truly worthy.”

Squirrelflight took a pace toward her and touched noses with her. “I’m sure you have a bright future in our Clan,” she mewed.

A lighter mood settled over the assembled cats as the paws of ThunderClan returned to the right path.

“I think we should hold a Gathering tomorrow night,” Tigerstar suggested. “We all need to figure out how we should best move forward, now that we have the impostor under control.”

Relief flooded through Shadowsight. It seemed that everything was working out at last. But then his gaze rested on the medicine cats’ den, and he couldn’t help wondering.

Is it really over?

He felt his paws carrying him back to the den, as if something was drawing him there. Stepping in, he padded up to the sleeping Bramblestar and looked down at him. He almost felt the evil wafting off the impostor, filling the den like a damp wind.

While Shadowsight was standing over him, Bramblestar’s eyes suddenly snapped open, narrowing as his gaze fell on the medicine cat.

He recognizes me. . . .

The impostor opened his jaws and spoke, but not in the voice of Bramblestar, the one Shadowsight had always heard at Gatherings. Instead it was the voice he remembered from his visions.

“I won’t be thwarted,” he told Shadowsight. “You saved my life, and because of that, you have ensured my success. Because once I’m back to full health, I’ll be able to bend any cat to my will. . . . Just ask that skinny black cat with the yellow eyes.”

For a moment Shadowsight wasn’t sure what the impostor meant. Surely it can’t be . . . Then, with a gasp of amazement, he realized that Bramblestar must be talking about Spiresight, though he had no idea how the two spirits could have met.

Before Shadowsight could question Bramblestar, the impostor went limp again and his eyes closed.

Shadowsight still had no idea who the spirit inside Bramblestar might be, but he knew one thing. The Clans’ troubles aren’t over yet.

Chapter 23

Rootspring poked his head into the medicine cats’ den to see his father, Tree, flexing his injured leg. “It feels fine,” Tree told Frecklewish.

The medicine cat sniffed at the poultice she had placed on Tree’s wound; Rootspring caught the clean tang of horsetail.

“It seems to be healing well,” she meowed. “But I would stay off it for a day or two. Come back and see me if it starts swelling or feeling hot.”

“Yes, I think I’ll give tonight’s Gathering a miss,” Tree responded. With a wry look at Rootspring, he added, “You can’t imagine how upset I am about that.”

Rootspring stifled a snort of amusement. “I’ll stay behind and keep you company, if you like,” he offered.

“No, you must go,” Tree insisted. “Like it or not, you have an important part to play in the Clans right now. You need to be there.”

Rootspring twitched his whiskers doubtfully. Being important is overrated, if you ask me. But he had to admit that his father was right.

“Okay,” he sighed.

He headed out into the clearing, and Tree limped after him. “Good luck,” he mewed to his son.

“Thanks, I’ll need it. Just make sure you get a good night’s sleep.”

“Your mother will see to that.” Tree whisked his tail in farewell and padded off to the warriors’ den.

The sun had set, and Leafstar was already waiting beside the fern tunnel along with the cats she had chosen to go to the Gathering. “There you are, Rootspring!” she exclaimed as he joined his Clanmates. “We’ve been waiting for you. We can’t go without you; I have a feeling we’re going to need you tonight.”

Just what Tree said, Rootspring thought, his paws tingling with apprehension. Am I ever going to get to be just a normal warrior?

When Rootspring padded up the shore of the Gathering island and pushed his way through the bushes into the clearing, most of the other Clan cats were already there. They seemed shaken by what had happened, glancing nervously from side to side. He wouldn’t blame them for half expecting another fight to break out, yet they were mingling with one another instead of bunching up into groups divided by Clan.

Rootspring had hardly had time to take that in when he noticed something else: Around the edges of the clearing lurked the spirits of the cats who had died in the battle. A shiver ran through Rootspring from paws to tail-tip.

They should have gone to StarClan—but they’re still here.

Rootspring had always been told that when a warrior died, his spirit would join StarClan and be at peace, but these were crouching with every muscle tensed, their fur bristling and their eyes wide and scared as they looked around the clearing. Some of them were gazing forlornly at their living Clanmates, who couldn’t see them.

Slipping cautiously along the line of the bushes, Rootspring looked for the real Bramblestar’s ghost, but there was no sign of him, not even when Rootspring had covered the entire clearing twice to be sure he hadn’t missed the ghost leader.