Эрин Хантер - The Ultimate Guide

There was a flicker of orange at the far side of the shore, and a cat stepped out of the ranks of StarClan. His eyes shone as green as the forest, and his fur was the color of flame. Brambleclaw felt his eyes fill. “Firestar!” he breathed.

The orange cat trotted lightly over the stones to meet him. Firestar looked young and strong, with no sign of the terrible, bloody battle he had fought until his dying moments. “Welcome to StarClan, Brambleclaw!” he announced.

“It is an honor to be here,” Brambleclaw croaked, hardly able to speak through the lump of emotion in his throat.

Firestar lightly rested the tip of his tail on Brambleclaw’s flank. “Do not grieve anymore,” he mewed. “We always knew this time would come.”

Brambleclaw winced. “But not so soon!”

The orange tom shrugged. “StarClan chooses the moment it wishes us to join them. My lives were long and full, and I had so much happiness. And I chose the best deputy I could have, knowing that you would one day succeed me.” He stepped closer and touched his muzzle to Brambleclaw’s head.

“I give you a life with the courage to make the hardest decisions, not just for ThunderClan but for all the Clans. The lake needs four Clans; with this life, serve them all well.”

A bolt of lightning seemed to shoot through Brambleclaw’s bones, rocking him on his paws. Was this how difficult it would be to honor all of the Clans? He fought for breath until the searing force eased and he was able to open his eyes.

Firestar had stepped back, and in his place stood a cat with fur the color of ripe barley. She smelled of milk and warmth and safety, and Brambleclaw fought down an urge to curl up at her paws and whimper like a kit. “Goldenflower,” he whispered. “Is it really you?”

The she-cat’s eyes softened. “Yes, my son, it is. I am so proud of you, my love. And so honored to give you this life.” She leaned against him, and Brambleclaw flashed back to the nursery, tiny and mewling at Goldenflower’s belly, with nothing more sinister than a game of moss-ball ahead of him.

“I give you a life for understanding the love of a mother,” she meowed. “But then, you have already known what it is to love as a father. Keep that knowledge, feel its power, and use it to keep all of your Clanmates safe.”

Warmth filled Brambleclaw from nose to tail-tip, making his legs tremble and a fire blaze in his belly that roared with the sound of tigers. Yes, he had known what it was to love this fiercely. He pictured Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather, and knew that he would still give his life in a moment to protect them. Now that is how it must be for all of my Clanmates.

Bluestar took Goldenflower’s place; Brambleclaw felt a pang of sorrow as he watched his mother walk back to the starry rows on the far side of the hollow. Bluestar followed his gaze. “She will be watching over you, always,” she murmured. She took a deep breath. “Brambleclaw, you have walked a long and difficult path to reach this point. But you have proven your loyalty to ThunderClan more times than I can count. I am proud to see my Clan pass into your care.” She reached up and touched his nose. “I give you a life for clear judgment of character, for the ability to see the value of some cats, and the threat posed by others.” Her eyes clouded. “It is a gift I did not always possess myself,” she admitted.

“But you found Firestar!” Brambleclaw reminded her.

The she-cat’s gaze softened. “So I did.” She pressed her muzzle against his. “Tread carefully in whom you trust,” she whispered.

This life washed through Brambleclaw’s mind like an ice-cold river, making his ears ring and dazzling his eyes with light. He felt a stab of loneliness, as if the life was reminding him that some decisions would be his alone, and the fate of every cat in his Clan would depend upon him making the right choice.

The next cat to walk forward was a dusky brown she-cat with eyes the color of sunlit ice. Her pelt was glossy and the muscles rippled on her shoulders as she padded over the stone. For a moment

Brambleclaw didn’t recognize her, then his heart leaped and he gasped, “Mousefur?!”

The she-cat’s eyes gleamed. “Indeed. Did you think I would always be old and patch-furred, even here? You never knew me when I was young and strong, Brambleclaw. But this is how I will be for the rest of memory.” She stretched up to touch his cheek. “I give you a life for listening to your elders, for taking advice even when it is not expected. The oldest cats have seen the most, and there is precious little that is new, even beside the lake. Trust their wisdom, learn from their mistakes, and remember that without them, you would have no Clan to lead.”

Brambleclaw’s mind filled with countless murmurs and he was buffeted by unseen cats brushing past him on both sides. The hollow was overflowing with cats! He strained to hear what they were saying, but the whispers were too quiet and too numerous to pick anything out. Brambleclaw felt his legs start to tremble from all the memories that swirled around him, and he was grateful when a cat put its shoulder against his side to steady him.

“It’s all right,” said a deep voice. “Receiving nine lives is always hard, but you are fresh from a battle as well. Stay strong, it will soon be over.”

Brambleclaw opened his eyes and looked up at the gold-striped tabby in front of him. The tom’s shoulders were even broader than Brambleclaw’s, and the way he held his head made Brambleclaw think of the lions that were described in nursery tales.

“I am Lionheart,” rumbled the huge tom. “I died in a battle with ShadowClan before you were born, but I have watched you grow, and I know you will make a great leader for my precious

ThunderClan. I give you a life to have the greatest pride in your Clan, to honor the legacy that has been left by the leaders who have walked this path before”—he paused and nodded to Bluestar and Firestar—“and to have the courage to lay down your own paw prints over theirs. This is your chance to shape ThunderClan’s destiny. Use it wisely and make us proud.”

Lionheart had to stoop to rest his muzzle on top of Brambleclaw’s head. Brambleclaw was filled with a warm energy that made his fur stand on end. He pictured all the ThunderClan cats around him, felt their support like a blast of wind that could power him upward, higher than the treetops, to do whatever he wanted to do. “Thank you, Lionheart,” he whispered breathlessly.

The noble cat stepped back and dipped his head. “It is always an honor to bestow a life,” he meowed.

A lightly framed cat whose pale gray fur was dotted with darker flecks trotted forward. Her green eyes were wide and earnest. Brambleclaw stared at her with a swell of grief. “Ferncloud!”

The she-cat nodded. “Oh, Brambleclaw, this is a bittersweet meeting for both of us. I am so sorry to have left you all behind. Please look after Dustpelt for me, and all my precious kits.”

“I will,” Brambleclaw promised. “They miss you so much.”

Ferncloud’s eyes darkened. “And I miss them. But tell them I am watching over them and will be waiting for them always.” She gave herself a shake. “I have a life to give you, Brambleclaw!” She sounded almost kitlike with excitement. She reached up and nudged his chin with her nose. “My life is for understanding that it is not only warriors who play a part in protecting the Clan. She-cats who choose to live in the nursery do just as much as those who patrol borders and stock the fresh-kill pile.

We raise every new apprentice, feed every small mouth, teach every kit the importance of the warrior code. Without us, the Clan would be as rootless as an upturned tree. Honor the mother-cats, Brambleclaw, for we give you all life.”