Brambleclaw stared at her, his fur crawling with ice.
“What’s the matter?” Tawnypelt asked. “Why are you looking like that?”
“Because I had exactly the same dream, except that the cat who spoke to me was Bluestar.”
Tawnypelt blinked and her brother saw a shiver pass through her tortoiseshell fur. At last she meowed, “Have you told any other cat about your dream?”
Brambleclaw shook his head. “I didn’t know what to make of it. To be honest, I thought it was due to something I ate. I mean, why would StarClan send a vision like that to me, instead of to Firestar or Cinderpelt?”
“I thought the same,” his sister agreed. “And I expected the other three cats to be from ShadowClan, so when no other cat mentioned it . . .”
“I know, me too. I thought they would be from ThunderClan. But it looks as if we were wrong.”
Brambleclaw glanced around the clearing. The Gathering was thinning out as cats began to leave, and in spite of the protests over Hawkfrost and Mothwing the general mood was good-humoured. No other cats looked as if they had received doom-laden dreams. What possible trouble could be coming—and if it did, what could he and Tawnypelt do about it?
“What do you think we should do now?” Tawnypelt echoed his thoughts.
“If the dream was true, then two other cats should have had it,” Brambleclaw replied. “It makes sense that there would be one from each of the other two Clans. We should try to find out who.”
“Oh, yes.” Tawnypelt sounded scornful. “Are you going to walk into WindClan or RiverClan territory and ask every cat if they had a weird dream? I’m not. They would think we were mad, if they didn’t claw our ears off first.”
“What do you suggest, then?”
“We’re all supposed to meet at the new moon,” Tawnypelt mewed thoughtfully. “Nightstar didn’t say where, but it must be here at Fourtrees. There isn’t anywhere else where cats from four different Clans can get together.”
“So you think we should come here at the new moon?”
“Unless you can think of a better idea.”
Brambleclaw shook his head. “I only hope the other cats do the same. If . . . if the dream is real, of course.”
He broke off as he heard a cat calling his name, and turned to see Firestar standing a short distance away, with the other ThunderClan cats gathered around him. “It’s time to go,” Firestar said.
“Coming!” Turning back to Tawnypelt he meowed urgently, “At the new moon, then. Say nothing to any cat. And trust StarClan the others will come.”
Tawnypelt nodded and slipped into the bushes, following her Clan mates. Brambleclaw hurried over to join Firestar, hoping that his shock and fear did not show on his face. He had tried to forget his dream, but if Tawnypelt had dreamed it as well, he had no choice but to take it seriously. Trouble was coming, and he did not know what to do about it, nor understand how midnight could tell him anything.
Oh, StarClan, he mewed silently. I hope you know what you’re doing!
CHAPTER 4 (#ulink_f45fe0c7-4a4a-5d9a-a3f8-eb07a04d02bb)
Brambleclaw emerged from the warriors’ den and glanced around the clearing. Another quarter moon had passed, and still there was no rain. Over all the forest, the air was hot and heavy. The streams near the camp had dried up, so the Clan had to travel to the stream that flowed past Fourtrees when they needed water. Luckily it ran deep through the rocky soil, and flowed even in the driest greenleaf.
Ever since the Gathering Brambleclaw’s sleep had been disturbed, and when he woke each morning he struggled with the foreboding that something terrible had happened to the camp during the night. But everything seemed as peaceful as it had been the day before. This morning, Whitepaw and Shrewpaw were practicing their fighting moves outside the apprentices’ den. Mousefur emerged from the gorse tunnel with a squirrel clamped in her jaws, followed by her apprentice, Spiderpaw, and Rainwhisker, who also carried fresh-kill. Firestar and Greystripe were talking together at the base of the Highrock, with Squirrelpaw and Dustpelt listening close by.
Firestar beckoned Brambleclaw over with his tail. “Are you up for an extra patrol?” he asked. “I want to check the border with ShadowClan, in case they get the idea of coming across here to find water.”
“But Blackstar said that his Clan has all the water they need,” Brambleclaw reminded him.
Firestar’s ears twitched. “True. But we don’t necessarily believe what Clan leaders say at a Gathering. Besides, I’ve never trusted Blackstar. If he thinks we have richer prey in our territory, he’ll send warriors in to help themselves, for sure.”
Greystripe growled agreement. “ShadowClan have been quiet for too many moons. If you ask me, it’s about time they started making trouble.”
“I just thought—” Brambleclaw stopped, embarrassed to be seen objecting to his leader’s order, and amazed that he could see a possibility Firestar didn’t seem to have considered.
“Go on,” Firestar prompted.
Brambleclaw took a deep breath. He couldn’t get out of this now, in spite of the green glare that Squirrelpaw was giving him for daring to disagree with her father. “I just think that if there is trouble, it’s more likely to come from WindClan,” he ventured. “If their territory is as dry as Tallstar said, then they’re bound to be short of prey.”
“WindClan!” Squirrelpaw burst out. “Brambleclaw, are you completely mouse-brained? RiverClan gave WindClan permission to drink at the river, so if they steal prey from anywhere they’ll steal it from RiverClan.”
“And that strip of RiverClan territory is really narrow between the river and our border,” Brambleclaw retorted. “If WindClan do hunt, the prey could easily cross into our territory.”
“You think you’re so clever!” Squirrelpaw sprang to her paws, her fur bristling. “Firestar ordered you to check the ShadowClan border, so you should do what you’re told.”
“Of course, you’ve never disobeyed a warrior, have you?” Dustpelt put in dryly.
Squirrelpaw ignored her mentor. “ShadowClan have always caused trouble,” she persisted. “But we’re friends with WindClan now.”
Brambleclaw found himself getting angrier and angrier. Of course he didn’t want to question Firestar’s authority. Firestar was the hero who had saved the forest from the terrible ambitions of Tigerstar and the rogue cats who followed him. There would never be another cat like him. Yet Brambleclaw really believed that ThunderClan should take a possible threat from WindClan seriously. He would have liked to discuss it properly with Firestar, but that was impossible when Squirrelpaw insisted on arguing with everything he said.
“You’re the one who thinks she knows it all,” he spat, taking a step toward her. “Will you just listen for one moment?”
He ducked to avoid her paw as she lashed at him, claws unsheathed, and his last scrap of self-control deserted him. Falling into a crouch, he got ready to spring at her, his tail twitching back and forth. If Squirrelpaw wanted a fight, she could have one!
But before either of the young cats could attack, Firestar pushed in between them. “That’s enough!” he snarled.
Brambleclaw froze in dismay. Straightening up, he gave his chest an anxious lick and murmured, “Sorry, Firestar.”
Squirrelpaw stayed silent, giving him a mutinous glare, until Dustpelt prompted her. “Well?”
“Sorry,” Squirrelpaw muttered, and instantly spoiled her apology by adding, “But he’s still a mouse-brain.”
“Actually, I think he’s got a point, don’t you?” Dustpelt meowed to Firestar. “I agree that ShadowClan have always been trouble and always will be, but if WindClan happen to spot a juicy vole or a squirrel on our side of the border, don’t you think they might be tempted?”
“You could be right,” Firestar conceded. “In that case, Brambleclaw, you’d better take a patrol up the RiverClan border as far as Fourtrees. Dustpelt, you and Squirrelpaw can go as well.” His eyes narrowed as he glanced from his daughter to Brambleclaw and back again. “And you will get along with each other, or I’ll want to know why.”
“Yes, Firestar,” Brambleclaw replied, relieved that he had gotten off so lightly for nearly flattening Squirrelpaw.
“That’s two patrols, then,” Greystripe mewed cheerfully. “I’ll find some more cats to go with me up the ShadowClan side.” He jumped to his paws and vanished into the warriors’ den.
Firestar nodded to Dustpelt, giving him authority over the patrol, and padded away to his den on the other side of the Highrock.
“Right, let’s go,” meowed Dustpelt. He set off toward the gorse tunnel, only to glance back at Squirrelpaw, who had not moved. “What’s the matter now?”
“It’s not fair,” Squirrelpaw muttered. “I don’t want to patrol with him.”
Brambleclaw rolled his eyes, but had the sense not to start their quarrel again.
