“We don’t want your sympathy,” Scorchfur snarled. “We’re fine. And if you think we’re going to tell you where we’re living now, think again!”
If you’re fine, why do you look so distraught? Bramblestar wondered. Aloud he meowed, “I wouldn’t dream of asking. Just tell me one thing: Is Tawnypelt okay?”
“And your other Clanmates?” Dovewing put in quickly.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ferretclaw gave a reluctant nod. “We’re all okay.”
“And hedgehogs fly,” Thornclaw muttered from behind Bramblestar, who gave him a warning flick of his ears.
“We want to cross your territory to check on RiverClan,” Bramblestar meowed. “Do we have your permission, as long as we stay inside three fox-lengths from the edge of the water?”
“I suppose so,” Scorchfur growled. “If it’ll get you off our territory sooner.”
With another respectful dip of his head Bramblestar turned to go, waving his tail for his patrol to follow.
“RiverClan won’t thank you for interfering!” Ferretclaw called after them. “You’ve got no right to act like ThunderClan is here to save us all!”
Ignoring the parting shot, Bramblestar led his patrol farther along the water’s edge to where the Twoleg half bridge had once reached out into the lake—now covered now by many tail-lengths of water.
“You know something?” Graystripe meowed, padding along beside Bramblestar. “When you asked about Tawnypelt, Ferretclaw said that all the cats are okay, but none of them ever mentioned Blackstar. If you ask me, those are cats who are mourning their leader.”
Bramblestar halted, staring at the gray warrior in alarm. “Great StarClan! Do you really think Blackstar lost his ninth life in the storm?” If a Clan leader has died, the rest of us need to know! But he was sure that he wouldn’t be welcome if he tried to find the place where ShadowClan was sheltering. He would have to wait for them to bring him any news.
Still following the waterline, the patrol emerged from the trees some way inland from the half bridge. The small wooden Twoleg dens on the lakeshore were completely submerged except for the pointed tops of their roofs. Because the ground was flatter here, the floodwater had reached a long way up the narrow Thunderpath. The smooth silver surface stretched ahead of them, covering everything that had been there before. It was impossible to tell what was happening over in RiverClan territory.
“We need to get some height,” Bramblestar muttered.
Clawing his way up a pine tree, he edged out along a branch until he could see to the farthest end of the lake. Where the RiverClan camp had stood between two streams, circled by bushes, there was nothing but shining gray water.
Graystripe scrambled up after Bramblestar and gazed over his shoulder. “StarClan help them!” he breathed. “Are they all dead?”
Bramblestar didn’t know. Leaping down from the tree, he gathered his patrol around him. “There’s no sign of RiverClan,” he meowed. “We have to find out what happened to them.”
Thornclaw looked doubtful. “That ShadowClan warrior was right. It’s not up to ThunderClan to save every cat.”
Bramblestar met his gaze. “If we can save one life, StarClan would want us to try,” he insisted. “We’ve been lucky in the storm. RiverClan hasn’t.”
Thornclaw shrugged, though he still didn’t look happy.
Bramblestar began looking for a way to cross the flooded Thunderpath. The water was too deep and swift moving to swim across close to where the RiverClan camp used to be. “We’ll have to head farther away from the lake,” he decided.
“That’s going to bring us close to the Twoleg dens,” Graystripe pointed out. “Are we prepared for that?”
“We have to be,” Bramblestar replied. “And if you ask me, the Twolegs have more to worry about right now than a few cats.”
The four warriors trekked along the line of the Thunderpath, as close as they could get without wetting their paws. When the Twoleg nests came into sight they were still and silent, with strange Twoleg things bobbing about in the water between them.
“This is weird,” Dovewing mewed, shivering. “But at least it doesn’t look like there are any Twolegs around.”
“Let’s find a way across,” Bramblestar announced, trying to sound more confident than he felt. The vast expanses of water all around them unnerved him, too.
“Do you think we should go back and get more cats?” Graystripe suggested.
Bramblestar shook his head. “We might not have time. We don’t know what we’re going to find in RiverClan.”
“And I’m sure ShadowClan would be so pleased to see ThunderClan marching back and forth across their territory,” Thornclaw added.
Bramblestar padded as close as he could get to the nearest Twoleg den. The water lapped at the wall, high enough that the den must be flooded inside, deeper than a cat could walk. The cats clearly weren’t going to get across to RiverClan territory without getting wet, but could they avoid having to swim all the way? Bramblestar spotted a dark line that seemed to surround the nest just below the surface of the water. He realized that it must be a fence stretching around the square of grass and flowers, like the fences on the border with the old forest.
“Look,” he mewed, pointing with his tail. “If we can reach that, we can walk along the top and get as far as the Thunderpath.”
“And then?” Thornclaw meowed.
“Swim across, and hope there’s another fence on the other side.” Bramblestar looked at his patrol, knowing he was leading them into danger. What if I lose one of them? But he also knew that he couldn’t turn around and go back to ThunderClan without finding out what had happened to the cats of RiverClan.
Not giving himself time to change his mind, Bramblestar waded into the water, then swam until he reached the barrier. As he had hoped, it was a wooden fence. He managed to claw his way up it; when he stood on the top, the water reached halfway up his legs.
“It’s okay!” he called, waving his tail for the others to join him. But the top of the fence was narrow, and with the water lapping and sucking at his legs, it was hard to keep his balance. The fence shuddered as the next cat reached it; Bramblestar stifled a screech of shock as his hind paws slipped, and only just stopped himself from sliding back into the flood.
Behind him he heard Thornclaw hiss, “Fox dung!” but when Bramblestar looked back he realized that the tabby warrior was still upright on the fence, and the other cats were managing to follow him. The water distorted Bramblestar’s view of the fence, but he figured out a way of putting his paws down in a straight line while he balanced with his tail. Step by step he made his way to the other end of the fence, overlooking the submerged Thunderpath.
When he reached it, he was puzzled by the sight of a flat red object under the water a mouse-length below where he was standing. Examining it more closely, he realized what it was.
“There’s a drowned monster here!” he exclaimed.
Thornclaw, who was just behind him, peered over his shoulder. “Creepy!” he commented.
Bramblestar looked down at the monster. If they jumped onto it, they could be several paw steps closer to RiverClan before they had to swim. But what if it wakes up? He studied the edges of the top of the monster carefully. There were no air bubbles, no signs of movement, nothing to suggest that it was still alive.
“Come on,” he called to the others. “This way!”
“Are you mouse-brained?” Thornclaw asked. “Jump on top of a monster?”