SUNSET

“Cinderpelt knew what was going to happen,” Spottedleaf meowed. “She knew there was no way to escape it. Not even StarClan can turn aside the paws of fate. That’s why she didn’t try to stop you from going. Do you think things would have been different if you had stayed?”

“I know they would,” Leafpool insisted. “I would never have left her if I’d known!”

“That is a weight you will carry for a long while, but I promise you could not have done anything to change what happened to Cinderpelt.” Spottedleaf pressed close against Leafpool’s side. Her comforting warmth was still not enough to ease Leafpool’s pain.

“Since she died, I haven’t seen her in my dreams,” Leafpool whispered. “I haven’t felt her presence, smelled her scent, or heard her voice. She must be angry with me, or she would come to me.”

“No, Leafpool. Cinderpelt loved you; do you think she would abandon you, even in death? Her paws walk another path for now.”

Fresh anxiety surged up inside Leafpool. She had thought she understood the links between a medicine cat and the spirits of her warrior ancestors. What was this “other path”? Did Spottedleaf mean that Cinderpelt was wandering in the dark forest where Leafpool had seen Tigerstar?

“What do you mean?” she demanded, her neck fur bristling. “Where is she?”

“That I cannot tell you. But she is well, I promise you, and you will see her again, sooner than you think.”

Spottedleaf ’s voice faded away. The warmth against Leafpool’s side melted into the breeze, and the StarClan cat’s tortoiseshell fur blended into the dapples of light and shadow until Leafpool couldn’t see her any more. Only her scent remained a heartbeat longer.

Leafpool opened her eyes to see the peaceful lake water still dappled with the reflections of countless stars. Fresh grief for Cinderpelt swept over her. Why did she have to die? Why hadn’t she come to Leafpool in her dreams like Spottedleaf? Leafpool wanted to cry like an abandoned kit.

Instead, she rose and stretched. “Wherever you are, Cinderpelt,” she mewed out loud, “if you can hear me, I promise that I will never leave our Clan again. I am their medicine cat now, and I will follow in your paw steps until it’s my turn to walk with StarClan.” Hesitating, she added, “But please, if I ever meant anything to you, come to me when you can and tell me you forgive me.”

Chapter 4 (#ubbeeb1c3-7432-519b-84d9-01ab54cac221)

A cold breeze ruffling his fur woke Brambleclaw. Stretching his jaws in an enormous yawn, he looked up. A patch of pale sky was visible through a ragged hole where once thorn branches had sheltered the warriors’ den. Dawn was breaking; it was time to get to work. Brambleclaw felt more hopeful after a good night’s sleep, undisturbed by dreams.

Around him the other cats were beginning to wake. Cloudtail got up, wincing as he put weight on the paw that had lost a claw. “Badgers!” he snorted. “If I never see another, it’ll be too soon.” He brushed between two branches, out into the clearing.

Brambleclaw had gone to sleep with Squirrelflight curled up by his side, her sweet scent in his nostrils. But now she was gone, leaving only a flattened patch of moss. His pelt prickled when he saw that Ashfur was gone too. He sprang up, making his wounded shoulder protest with a shriek of pain, but before he could follow them into the clearing he heard Squirrelflight and Ashfur just outside; he stood without moving, screened by a branch, to listen.

“Look, Ashfur.” Squirrelflight’s voice told Brambleclaw that she was trying hard to hold her temper. “I really care about you as a friend, but I don’t want any more than that.”

“But I love you!” Ashfur protested. More hesitantly, he added, “We’d be great together, Squirrelflight, I know we would.”

Brambleclaw felt a stab of sympathy for the grey warrior. He remembered how he had felt when he thought he had lost Squirrelflight’s affection.

“I’m sorry,” Squirrelflight went on. “I never meant to hurt you, but Brambleclaw—well, I think StarClan has destined us to be together.”

“I don’t know how you can say that!” There was the hint of a snarl in Ashfur’s voice. “You said yourself that it’s impossible to trust a cat with Brambleclaw’s heritage. He’s a great cat, I know, but he is still Tigerstar’s son.”

Brambleclaw’s feelings of sympathy vanished instantly. He unsheathed his long, curved claws and sank them into the ground. Would he never be judged for what he was, instead of who his father had been? Worse, would Squirrelflight be unable to trust him because Tigerstar was his father?

“I’ll judge Brambleclaw by his own actions,” she retorted hotly, “not by something that other cats did long before I was born.”

“I’m only thinking of you, Squirrelflight,” Ashfur meowed. “I can remember Tigerstar. His paws were red with the blood of innocent cats. You know that he murdered my mother to lure a pack of dogs to our camp?”

Squirrelflight murmured something Brambleclaw couldn’t catch, then went on more clearly, “But that doesn’t mean Brambleclaw will turn out like his father.”

Movement behind Brambleclaw distracted him, and he realised that more of the warriors were stirring. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, he slid quickly between the branches and into the clearing.

Squirrelflight turned to him as he appeared. “Hi, Brambleclaw!”

The light was strengthening and the sky was clear, promising sunlight later to drive off the dawn chill. But for Brambleclaw the warmth in Squirrelflight’s eyes was even better. He padded over and touched noses with her, trying to ignore the frosty look Ashfur gave him.

As he stretched to ease the stiffness in his shoulder, Brambleclaw saw Firestar emerge from his den onto the Highledge and taste the morning air.

“Firestar!” he called. “Has the dawn patrol left yet?”

“No, would you like to lead one?”

Brambleclaw dipped his head. “Of course. Coming with me?” he asked Squirrelflight.

She nodded. Ashfur mewed abruptly, “I’m going to check on Birchpaw,” and stalked off towards Leafpool’s den without waiting for a reply.

Squirrelflight watched him walk away, her green gaze troubled. “I’m sorry he’s been hurt,” she meowed. “I thought he was the right mate for me, but he’s not. I don’t know how I can make him understand.”

Brambleclaw knew there was nothing he could say to make her feel better, so he just pressed his muzzle briefly to hers. But would the Clan side with him or with Ashfur? The grey warrior was popular with all their Clanmates, while Brambleclaw had forged his strongest friendships with the cats who had travelled to the sun-drown-place, and all but Squirrelflight were in different Clans.

A rustle sounded behind him as Brightheart pushed her way into the open. She glanced around as if she was looking for Cloudtail, then pricked her ears when she spotted him outside the nursery. He was talking to Daisy while her three kits tried to scramble over him. Brambleclaw saw sadness shadow Brightheart’s gaze, and felt a stab of anger. Cloudtail had bees in his brain if he couldn’t see how he was hurting Brightheart with the attention he was giving to the horseplace cat!

“Hey, Brightheart,” he meowed, pretending he hadn’t noticed anything. “Do you want to come with the dawn patrol?”

Brightheart shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ve promised to help Leafpool this morning. Can we have Whitepaw again?”

“Sure. It’s a good idea to keep her busy while Brackenfur’s in the nursery with Sorreltail.”

“Thanks. I’ll go and call her.” Brightheart took a pace towards the apprentices’ den, then paused to look back. “It’s really great to see you and Squirrelflight back together again,” she added softly. Surprise kept Brambleclaw silent, while Brightheart bounded away, calling for Whitepaw.