Erin Hunter - Twilight

Seeing Brambleclaw now, focused on Birchkit as if the young cat were a particularly juicy piece of fresh-kill, Squirrelflight couldn’t help asking herself what Brambleclaw would be prepared to do to feed such fierce ambition. Could he really become a killer like his father, Tigerstar?

Firestar waited for the Clan to grow silent. “This is a good day for ThunderClan,” he began. “By naming apprentices, we show that ThunderClan will survive and remain strong.

Birchkit, from now on you will be known as Birchpaw.”

Birchpaw nodded enthusiastically.

“Ashfur, you are ready for an apprentice,” Firestar continued. “You will be Birchpaw’s mentor.”

Squirrelflight saw Brambleclaw’s eyes blaze in disbelief.

His muscles tensed as if he were about to spring to his paws, but he held himself still. Not even the most ambitious cat would challenge a leader’s choice of mentor.

Squirrelflight turned to look at Ashfur. Pride and happiness shone in his eyes as Birchpaw scampered toward him.

“Ashfur,” Firestar continued, “you too have known loss and grief, and found the strength to deal with them.”

He was talking about the death of Brindleface, Ashfur’s mother. She had been murdered by Tigerstar and left as bait for the dog pack to lure them into the old ThunderClan camp. All that had happened before Squirrelflight was born, but every cat in the Clan had heard the story over and over again.

“I know you will pass on your strength to Birchpaw,” Firestar meowed, “and teach him the skills that will make him a brave warrior of ThunderClan.”

Eyes brimming with excitement, Birchpaw stretched up, and Ashfur bent his head to touch noses with him.

“Birchpaw! Birchpaw!” The Clan welcomed the apprentice with his new name. Ferncloud and Dustpelt bounded over to him, Ferncloud purring too loudly to speak, and Dustpelt gave his son a quick lick of congratulations.

“You never told me Firestar chose you!” Squirrelflight exclaimed to Ashfur, too happy for him to feel really indignant.

Ashfur’s blue eyes glowed as he turned and gave her shoulder a swift lick. “I wanted to surprise you,” he replied.

With the ceremony over, Birchpaw started to look a bit lost, as if he wasn’t sure what happened next. Whitepaw darted across and pressed her muzzle against his. “Come on,” she meowed. “I’ll show you the apprentices’ den. We’ll fetch some more moss for your bedding. And I’ll ask Brackenfur if we can train together tomorrow.”

Birchpaw glanced at his mentor for permission to go with her, and when Ashfur nodded, he followed Whitepaw across the clearing. They both disappeared into the brambles where the apprentices slept.

“I never thought Firestar would choose me,” Ashfur murmured, watching him go. “I still can’t believe it!”

Squirrelflight pressed her nose into the fur on his shoulder. “You deserve it as much as any cat,” she meowed.

But her gaze slid past him to Brambleclaw. The big tabby tom had risen to his paws and was gazing at her and Ashfur with envy and frustration in his eyes. A tremor of fear went through Squirrelflight. What would he do now, when his hopes of becoming deputy had been frustrated yet again?

“Squirrelflight.” Sandstorm was calling to her a few tail-lengths away. “Come here a moment.”

Squirrelflight padded over to her mother. “What is it?”

“That quarrel today, by the ShadowClan border.

Brambleclaw and Ashfur were close to fighting, and that’s not good for the Clan.”

Squirrelflight’s pelt prickled. “It wasn’t my fault,” she muttered mutinously. “Why tell me about it?”

The tip of Sandstorm’s tail twitched back and forth.

“Come on, Squirrelflight, you know better than that. Any cat can have problems, but you shouldn’t let yours get in the way of your duty to the Clan.”

Squirrelflight forced herself to meet her mother’s eyes and saw sympathy there in spite of her stern words. “Okay,” she mewed. “I’ll do my best. But there are times when they both behave like furballs.”

Amusement glimmered in Sandstorm’s green eyes. “That’s tomcats for you.” She rested her tail on Squirrelflight’s shoulder for a moment before heading toward the fresh-kill pile.

Squirrelflight watched Brambleclaw slipping between the thorn branches into the warriors’ den. His head was down and his tail trailed on the ground.

The cat Squirrelflight thought she had known would have accepted his disappointment and moved on, given up his hopes of being deputy, and concentrated on being a loyal ThunderClan warrior.

But Brambleclaw wasn’t that cat anymore. Fear tingled through Squirrelflight again as she wondered just how far he would go to fulfill his ambition.

Leafpool and Cinderpelt emerged from the trees beside the lake to see the small figure of a single cat making its way along the shore in ShadowClan territory.

“There’s Littlecloud,” Cinderpelt meowed, pointing with her tail.

Leafpool let out a faint sigh of relief. The sun had gone down over the lake, and the half moon already shone pale in the darkening sky. It was time for the medicine cats to meet at the Moonpool. Leafpool had been afraid that if she and Cinderpelt had to make the journey alone, the medicine cat would start questioning her about her visit to RiverClan two days earlier.

When Leafpool had returned, Cinderpelt was furious. She wanted to know why Leafpool had stayed away for a whole night.

“Do you realize that Firestar ordered a patrol to search for you?” she hissed. “Do you think cats have nothing better to do?

Honestly, Leafpool, I thought you were more responsible.”

“I’m sorry.” Leafpool scuffled with her forepaws in the dry leaves outside Cinderpelt’s den. “I wanted to take some catmint to Mothwing. She gave me the horsetail in exchange.” She gestured to the pile of fleshy stalks she had picked on her way back across the marshy ground.

Cinderpelt made an exasperated noise. “Leafpool, the Clans have to start living independently again. I know Mothwing’s your friend, but that doesn’t mean you can swap herbs whenever you feel like it. Next time, ask me for permission first.”

“Yes, Cinderpelt.” Leafpool was pretty sure the permission wouldn’t be forthcoming. She knew Cinderpelt would be even angrier if she knew the real reason for Leafpool’s visit.

But Mothwing deserved to be a medicine cat because of her skill at healing, and if StarClan spoke to her through Leafpool, it didn’t matter if Mothwing couldn’t believe in them.

Now, as they waited for Littlecloud beside the lake, Cinderpelt’s blue gaze was fixed on her again. “Are you sure you only went to RiverClan that day? There’s nothing else I should know about?”

Stung, Leafpool looked up. “No, Cinderpelt. I’m quite sure.”

Did the medicine cat suspect her of sneaking off to meet Crowfeather? Leafpool felt even more indignant because she had told Cinderpelt the truth about going to RiverClan. She hadn’t seen a single hair on Crowfeather’s pelt! Leafpool told herself that her mentor couldn’t know for sure about the feelings she tried so hard to hide. But it would be hard to defend herself if Cinderpelt made a more direct accusation.

To her relief the ShadowClan medicine cat was close enough to hear them now. Cinderpelt wouldn’t say anything about Crowfeather in front of him.

Littlecloud waded through the stream that marked the border, shook water drops off each paw in turn, then bounded along the shore until he reached the other two medicine cats. “May StarClan light your paths,” he greeted them.