Erin Hunter - Sunset

“Even kill my Clan leader?”

“Especially that. But you’re as weak as Tigerstar feared. We have great plans for the forest, he and I, and you could have been part of them. But we don’t need you.”

Brambleclaw understood exactly what his half brother was saying. He knew too much. Hawkfrost could not let him or Firestar live now; that must have been part of his plan from the beginning.

He took a step toward Hawkfrost. “Go back to RiverClan.

You’re my brother. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Because you’re weak,” Hawkfrost taunted him. “You care more for kin than for power. But I don’t.”

He leaped for Brambleclaw again, carrying him off his paws and pinning him down. His ice-blue eyes blazed close to Brambleclaw’s own. Brambleclaw felt sharp claws digging deep into his fur and saw teeth snapping at his throat. He struggled vainly to rake Hawkfrost’s belly with his hind paws, feeling his own death a heartbeat away. To save himself, to save Firestar and ThunderClan, there was only one thing he could do.

Writhing from side to side, he spotted the stick from the fox trap lying half under his shoulder. He strained his neck and managed to grab it in his teeth. As Hawkfrost lunged down toward him he heaved the stick around and felt the sharpened end sink deep into Hawkfrost’s throat. Hawkfrost stiffened with a horrible gurgling sound, then fell limp and heavy on Brambleclaw’s chest.

Shocked, Brambleclaw struggled free of his half brother’s body and let go of the stick. It fell to the ground, leaving a ragged wound in Hawkfrost’s throat. Scarlet blood splashed onto the earth, faster and faster until it started to spill down toward the lakeshore.

“Hawkfrost!” Brambleclaw gasped. “I… I didn’t want this.”

Amazingly, his half brother pushed himself to his paws and staggered toward him. Brambleclaw braced himself, not knowing whether to expect another attack or an appeal for help.

“Fool!” Hawkfrost rasped; the effort of speaking made the blood pour even faster from his terrible wound. “Do you think I did this alone? Do you think you’re safe within your own Clan?” He coughed, spitting out clots of blood, and added, “Think again!”

“What?” Brambleclaw took a step toward him, his forepaws splashing in the scarlet pool. Was Hawkfrost accusing a ThunderClan warrior of leading Firestar into this trap?

“What do you mean? Tell me, Hawkfrost! Who do you mean?”

But the cold fire was leaving Hawkfrost’s eyes. He turned away from Brambleclaw, staggered a few paces through the ferns, and collapsed beside the lake, his haunches trailing in the water. Tiny waves rippled over his body, and his blood spread out in a scarlet cloud.

Brambleclaw gazed down at him. There was so much more that he needed to know—but Hawkfrost was dead.

For a moment, his half brother’s voice echoed softly in his ears: We will meet again, my brother. This is not over yet.

“Brambleclaw.” Firestar still lay on his side, his neck fur stained with blood from his own wound. Weak as he was, his gaze was unwavering as he looked at Brambleclaw.

“Firestar—” Brambleclaw broke off. There was nothing that he could say. Firestar had seen his own deputy struggling with the temptation to kill him. He would never be able to trust Brambleclaw again. How could he be ThunderClan’s deputy now? He stood with bowed head and waited for the words that would send him into exile.

“Brambleclaw, you did well.”

Brambleclaw looked up, staring at his leader in astonishment.

“Your path has been hard, harder than most,” Firestar rasped. “But you fought a great battle here, and you won. You are a worthy deputy of ThunderClan.”

His voice quavered on the last few words. Exhausted, he let his head fall again and closed his eyes.

Brambleclaw stood looking down at him, his half brother’s blood sticky on his paws and the reek of it in his nostrils. I won , he thought. But what will my father do to me now ?

Squirrelflight lashed her tail. “Go back to camp,” she ordered Ashfur.

“Fetch more cats to help.”

Before she finished speaking, Leafpool was already racing through the undergrowth, not caring when trailing brambles clawed at her fur. Squirrelflight bounded along at her shoulder. Neither of them spoke. Ashfur’s fear-scent was strong along his trail, showing them which way to go.

Leafpool’s belly churned. Now she understood the premonition of danger that had flooded over her in the nursery.

What could be worse than losing their Clan leader—Firestar, the father she loved?

Her mistrust of Brambleclaw swelled into a giant wave that threatened to crash down and swamp her. The tabby warrior was strong and brave, but Tigerstar’s evil influence was surely too much for him.

Before the lake came in sight she began to pick up the scent of cats and, even stronger, the reek of fresh blood. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment. No cat could lose that much blood and survive.

She skidded around the roots of a tree and came to a halt just above the water’s edge. Firestar lay on his side in front of her, not moving. Brambleclaw was standing over him, his paws matted with blood.

I was right! Brambleclaw is a traitor. He murdered my father so he can be Clan leader .

Before she could speak, Firestar stirred and opened his eyes. “Leafpool,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Hawkfrost set a trap for me, but Brambleclaw killed him.”

He shifted his foreleg, revealing the broken fox trap, and when Leafpool looked closer at Firestar, she could see that his neck, though badly scratched, was not bleeding heavily enough to produce this scarlet pool that lapped at her paws.

The blood on Brambleclaw’s paws was not her father’s; instead, his claws were muddy and broken, which meant he must have dug up the stick and saved her father’s life. Yet there was no pride or satisfaction in his gaze; his eyes were shadowed with horror, and he seemed to be listening to something no other cat could hear.

Squirrelflight flung herself past Leafpool and crouched beside her father, nosing him from ears to tail-tip.

“Brambleclaw, thank you. You saved his life!”

Brambleclaw blinked as if he had only just realized she was there. “I only did what any cat would have done.”

Leafpool padded past her father, feeling blood well up, damp and sticky, between her pads. Where did all that blood come from?

A trail led through the ferns to the lakeshore, leaving the stems flattened and broken—and stained with blood. Peering through, Leafpool saw Hawkfrost’s dark tabby body lying unmoving in the shallows at the edge of the lake. Blood still spilled from a wound in his throat, clouding the water with a glaring splash of scarlet. Waves lapped heavily against the shore, turning the pebbles red.

“ Before all is peaceful, blood will spill blood, and the lake will run red ,” she whispered.

At last Leafpool understood. Brambleclaw and Hawkfrost were kin; blood had indeed spilled blood. Brambleclaw had killed his half brother to save Firestar. She had been right about Hawkfrost—he was too ambitious, too much like his father, Tigerstar—but she had never imagined that Brambleclaw would be the cat to stop him.

The prophecy that had haunted her paw steps for so long was finally fulfilled. Now the Clans could look forward to the peace that it had promised. And now that Hawkfrost was dead, Mothwing would be free of his attempts to control her.