Erin Hunter - Sunset

Leafpool had always doubted whether Hawkfrost was trustworthy, but there was no room for doubt now. Her claws scored the ground in front of her; she wished she could sink them into Hawkfrost’s fur. But fighting him would solve nothing. Leafpool considered challenging him at a Gathering, but that wouldn’t work either. After all, she had no proof. And accusing him would mean denouncing Mothwing, too. If RiverClan knew the moth’s wing sign had been false all along, would they let her continue as their medicine cat?

Spottedleaf, show me what to do. You must have told me this for a reason .

Then she remembered Willowpaw. The young apprentice must believe in StarClan, like all Clanborn cats. Perhaps she would be able to take over those parts of Mothwing’s duties that involved StarClan. If Mothwing knew that, it might give her courage to stand up to her cruel brother. Willowpaw couldn’t solve the problem altogether, but she might help.

But how can I show her? Leafpool asked herself. She’s Mothwing’s apprentice, not mine. How can Willowpaw learn about StarClan when her mentor doesn’t believe in them ?

Ferns brushed Brambleclaw’s pelt as he raced through the forest of shadows toward his meeting with Tigerstar. Strength flowed through him now that his shoulder was fully healed, and his paws itched to show off his fighting skills to his father and Hawkfrost. He was sure Tigerstar would be pleased by what he had to tell.

Reaching the clearing, he came to an abrupt halt in the shadow of a thorn tree. His father was sitting on the rock in the center, his head bent to speak to a slender tortoiseshell warrior.

Tawnypelt! What’s she doing here?

Curiosity sank its claws into his heart. With his belly fur brushing the ground, he crept around the clearing until he could get closer to the rock in the shelter of a clump of long grass. With his ears pricked, he could just make out the other cats’ voices.

“I’ve told you before,” Tawnypelt snapped. “I don’t want any part of your ambitions. I have my own plans.”

Brambleclaw tensed. No cat spoke like that to Tigerstar!

But the massive tabby didn’t seem angry. His tone was pleased as he replied, “You have my spirit, Tawnypelt, and you’re a brave warrior. But there are times when spirit becomes foolishness. Don’t throw away what I can offer you.

I can make you a leader.”

“Fox dung!” Tawnypelt snarled. “I’m a loyal ShadowClan cat. If I’m ever made deputy or leader it will be because I have earned it myself—and because my Clanmates and StarClan wish it. You’re twisting the warrior code to get what you want, just like you did when you were alive.”

A growl rumbled in Tigerstar’s throat. Brambleclaw caught the gleam of unsheathed claws and his heart pounded in fear for his sister.

But Tawnypelt held her head high. “You don’t frighten me,” she meowed calmly. “And I don’t want anything you can give me.”

Spinning around, she stalked across the clearing and straight into the clump where Brambleclaw crouched in hiding.

She let out a hiss of surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Brambleclaw retorted, peering through the grass stems to make sure Tigerstar hadn’t spotted him. To his relief, the huge tabby had turned away.

Tawnypelt’s eyes were cold as she gazed at her brother.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” she meowed. “You think he can give you power. Have you got thistledown for brains? You know what he did when he was alive.”

“That was then.” Brambleclaw twitched his ears uncomfortably. “Now he’s just helping us to become good warriors—me and Hawkfrost. We train together. Tigerstar teaches us stuff.”

“I bet he does!” Tawnypelt let out a snort of contempt.

“Brambleclaw, think , will you? You’re an amazing cat already; you’re brave and loyal and you have tremendous warrior skills. Why do you need Tigerstar?” Without giving her brother a chance to reply, she swept on. “We’ve spent a long time trying to break free of our father’s legacy. When we were kits in ThunderClan, most cats didn’t trust us. Our Clan leader didn’t trust us, for StarClan’s sake! That’s why I left to join ShadowClan. Tigerstar welcomed me, but then I saw what his leadership was like, and I was glad when Scourge killed him! I don’t want any part of his blood. I’ve survived just fine without him, and so have you.”

“Maybe,” Brambleclaw mewed defensively. “But he died before I had a chance to know him. Maybe this is my chance now.”

His sister’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what’s happening here and you know it.” She let out a sigh, part weariness, part exasperation. “Brambleclaw, I think you’d make a fantastic leader. But only if you go about it the right way.” She touched her nose to his ear in farewell. Her voice was more affectionate as she added, “Think about it, mousebrain.”

Brambleclaw watched her stalk away. He wondered if Tigerstar had summoned his other daughter Mothwing to meet him here. He doubted it; Mothwing was a medicine cat, and all her dreams would be spent with StarClan. Besides, medicine cats couldn’t lead their Clans; their paws were set on another path.

Part of Brambleclaw wanted to listen to Tawnypelt. He knew Squirrelflight would say the same thing, if she knew about these meetings. But there was nothing wrong with accepting his father’s help, he argued with himself; every warrior thought about leading their Clan one day. And if StarClan approved of his relationship with Squirrelflight, surely that meant they knew about his ambitions as well? He crushed down the small voice of his conscience and stepped out into the clearing to greet Tigerstar.

Brambleclaw woke with a start at the sound of a piercing cry from outside the warriors’ den. He sprang to his paws, his neck fur bristling.

“Keep your fur on,” Spiderleg mewed from his mossy nest.

“It’s only Ferncloud. She was in here just now, looking for that horseplace cat.”

“Daisy? Is she missing?”

“Well, Ferncloud says she wasn’t in the nursery,” Spiderleg explained. “But she must be around here somewhere. She’d be the last cat to go wandering off. She’s hardly left the hollow since the badger attack.”

That was true, which made it all the more unsettling.

Brambleclaw pushed his way out through the thorns to see Ferncloud standing in the middle of the clearing, with Cloudtail beside her.

The white tomcat was awkwardly stroking her shoulder with his tail, trying to calm her down. “She can’t be far away,” he comforted her. “Remember how scared she was when Berrykit wandered off.”

“But the kits have gone too,” Ferncloud pointed out fret-fully. “She must have taken them away deliberately.”

As Brambleclaw padded toward her, another yowl rose from behind him. He turned to see Sorreltail bounding over from the apprentices’ den.

“Whitepaw and Birchpaw haven’t seen them either,” she panted. “I don’t think they’re in the camp.”

Brambleclaw stood for a moment, thinking. The sun had barely risen above the tops of the trees. If Daisy had left the camp she must have done so as dawn was breaking. What could have been important enough to draw her out into the forest, when she was so frightened of what she believed was lurking there?

“What happened?” he asked Ferncloud.

The gray she-cat’s eyes were wide with distress. “I went into the nursery with some fresh-kill for Daisy and Sorreltail,” she explained. “The nest was still warm, but Daisy and the kits were gone.”