Erin Hunter - Starlight

He ran swiftly up the blocks before he could spend too long worrying what he might find at the top. As he burst onto the next level, which was made of strips of wood like the floor below, a loud squawking and the rattle of wings set his heart thudding. A moment later he realized it was only a pigeon, disturbed by his sudden appearance. Scattering gray and white feathers, it fluttered up through the space where the roof had broken away.

Brambleclaw padded cautiously forward, peering around until he was sure the place was empty. When he scrambled down to ground level again he found that Dustpelt had caught another mouse, and Thornclaw was crouched in front of a crack in the wall with his ears pricked.

“We don’t have time to hunt now,” Brambleclaw warned them. He was feeling trapped inside the Twoleg walls, and his paws itched to be out in the open again. “We can find prey outside, and we need to report this to Firestar. Let’s go.”

Reluctantly Thornclaw followed him out again, and the three cats headed back along the abandoned Thunderpath.

Dustpelt and Thornclaw went straight to the heap of fresh-kill, but Brambleclaw padded over to his Clan leader, who was sitting with Sandstorm and Squirrelflight. “Firestar, I think you should know what we found today,” he meowed, and described the empty Twoleg nest.

“And there was no scent of Twolegs at all?” Firestar asked when he’d finished.

Brambleclaw shook his head. “It seems to be a good place for prey, and I suppose it might be useful in the future.”

“Maybe shelter,” Sandstorm suggested, “if the weather gets very bad. Or if there was another fire…” She shivered, and Brambleclaw knew how she felt. He could just remember the flames that had swept through the old ThunderClan camp, devouring everything in their way. He wasn’t sure that even the stone walls of the Twoleg nest would protect them from that sort of forest fire.

“Perhaps. Well done, all of you,” Firestar meowed.

“I’m going out again,” Brambleclaw told him. “We need more fresh-kill.” He felt as if a lump of tough starling had lodged in his throat, but he managed to add, “Squirrelflight, do you want to come with me?”

The ginger warrior gave him a long look, and for a moment Brambleclaw was sure she would say yes. Then she rose to her paws and flicked her tail. “Sorry. I said I’d go hunting with Ashfur and Spiderleg.”

“Okay.” Brambleclaw swallowed his hurt, determined not to let her see how disappointed he was.

“Don’t go out again just yet, Brambleclaw,” Firestar meowed. “You’ve been working your paws off ever since the Gathering, and you need to rest. And that’s an order,” he added, as Brambleclaw opened his mouth to protest. “The sun’s hardly up, and you’ve already done one patrol. Go eat, and then take a nap until sunhigh. Do you think I want one of my best warriors falling sick with exhaustion?”

Brambleclaw dipped his head and turned away.

Thornclaw had been watching, and when Brambleclaw sat beside him with a vole he had taken from the fresh-kill pile he twitched his ears toward Squirrelflight. “Had a quarrel, have you?” he mewed, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

“What did you do?”

“StarClan knows,” Brambleclaw grunted. He didn’t want every cat in the Clan taking an interest in his quarrel with Squirrelflight—and he certainly didn’t want them to know why they had fallen out in the first place. He flicked his tail irritably.

Why couldn’t she see that he was totally loyal to his Clan, and that he still cared for her as much as ever? Deep down, he was sure he knew the answer. The reason she doubted his loyalty was because every time she looked at him, she was thinking of another cat instead.

Tigerstar.

Brambleclaw woke with a start. The angle of the sunlight piercing the branches of the warriors’ den told him it was nearly sunhigh. He heard voices outside, and he sprang to his paws, his fur bristling, before he realized that they were raised in excitement, not fear or anger.

Shaking moss from his pelt, he padded out into the open.

Several cats were huddled together in the middle of the clearing; as Brambleclaw drew closer he saw they were clustering around Leafpaw and Sorreltail.

The young she-cats looked exhausted, but very pleased with themselves. Leafpaw was speaking to Firestar, gesturing with her tail as if she were pointing out something.

“What’s going on?” Brambleclaw asked.

Brightheart glanced around with a gleam of excitement in her good eye. “Leafpaw and Sorreltail have found the Moonpool!”

“The Moonpool? What’s that?”

No cat answered, too eager to listen to what Leafpaw was saying, so Brambleclaw squeezed forward until he could hear as well.

“We climbed beside the WindClan boundary, into the hills, a long way beyond the edge of our territory. And then we found the stream, and the starlight was so bright, I knew it would show us the way. We followed it until we came to a pool…” Leafpaw’s voice dropped to scarcely more than a whisper. “It’s where we must go to share tongues with StarClan.”

Brambleclaw closed his eyes and sent a prayer of thanks to his warrior ancestors. They had shown them the place that would replace the Moonstone. The Clans really were meant to be here; there would be no need to embark on another long and exhausting journey.

Cinderpelt pressed her muzzle against Leafpaw’s shoulder.

“You have done something very special today,” she told her.

“The Clans will remember this for many seasons.”

“The vision could have come to any medicine cat,” Leafpaw mewed, her eyes wide.

“But it came to you,” Firestar put in. “The Clan thanks both of you,” he added, with a nod to Sorreltail.

“Tomorrow night is the half-moon,” Cinderpelt went on more briskly. “We must send a message at once to the other medicine cats, so that we can meet at the Moonpool.”

“I’ll go,” Leafpaw offered.

“You’ve traveled far enough for one day,” Firestar pointed out gently. “You can’t go all the way around the lake as well.”

Cinderpelt flicked her ears in agreement. “It’s too far for one cat anyway, if we’re to meet in time,” she pointed out.

“From what Leafpaw says, we’ll need to set out by sunset tomorrow at the latest. Let me go to ShadowClan and RiverClan, and Leafpaw can rest before she takes word to WindClan.”

“Good idea,” meowed Firestar. “But do you have to go, Cinderpelt? I can send a warrior instead.”

Cinderpelt shook her head. “No. This is news that must come from a medicine cat.”

“Then I want two warriors to go with you. We saw at the Gathering that every Clan is sensitive about their territories right now.”

Brambleclaw stepped forward. “I’ll go.” He wanted to see the message carried to Littlecloud and Mothwing, to prove to their Clans that this was the place they had meant to settle.

It felt like the final stage of the journey that began with the dream that sent him to sun-drown-place, in search of a badger called Midnight.

“Thanks, Brambleclaw. Sandstorm, will you go as well?”

“Sure,” meowed Sandstorm.

As Brambleclaw followed Cinderpelt and Sandstorm out of the camp, he glanced over his shoulder. Squirrelflight was talking excitedly to Leafpaw. She did not look at him, and he had no time to stop and speak to her.

Brambleclaw would have to make this part of their journey alone.

Leafpaw leaped across the stream by the stepping stones and began to climb the hill toward the WindClan camp. Firestar had offered her an escort, but she didn’t think she needed one to visit WindClan. She’d thought of asking Sorreltail to go with her, but when she went to look for her friend she was sharing tongues with Brackenfur, and Leafpaw hadn’t wanted to disturb them.