Bramblestar began to feel soothed by his former leader’s confidence in him. “But what about the visitors? The kittypets?” he asked. “Would you have brought them into the Clan? And would you—?” The words began to spill out of him; he wanted to ask about every single thing he had done since Firestar died.
Firestar raised a paw to silence him. “You know the answers already,” he mewed gently. “They are in your heart.” As Bramblestar blinked at him, he went on, “This is not my Clan anymore. You are ThunderClan’s leader now. Trust the cats who gave you your nine lives. They all knew you would do well—including me,” he added with a glint in his eyes.
“Thank you, Firestar.” Bramblestar bowed his head. When he raised it again, he was startled to realize that the ginger cat was beginning to fade, and Bramblestar could see the stones on the shore through his starlit pelt.
“I have come to tell you something very important,” Firestar meowed. “When water meets blood, blood will rise.”
Bramblestar stared at him. “What does that mean?”
“Look at the floodwater,” Firestar urged. “See how the blood cannot be drowned?”
Bramblestar turned his head to gaze at the lake again. The strange upswelling of blood still shone scarlet among the waves.
Firestar spoke from behind him. “I can’t tell you any more than this. Just remember…”
His voice died away. When Bramblestar turned back, he was gone, and the forest was dark and silent. The moonlight too was blotted out, and Bramblestar was alone in the dark.
Somewhere nearby, a cat sneezed. Bramblestar knew that he was back in the tunnel, surrounded by the warm scents of his sleeping Clanmates. The strangeness of his dream still wreathed around him, and Firestar’s mysterious words echoed in his head.
When water meets blood, blood will rise…
What kind of prophecy was that? It can’t mean that no cats will drown, because Seedpaw has already died. So what does it mean?
After a long time wrestling with different meanings, and discarding them all, Bramblestar gave up and curled deeper into his nest. He slipped back into sleep to the sound of Graystripe’s muffled snores.
The voices and movement of cats around him woke Bramblestar. He lifted his head to see pale light spilling into the tunnel as his Clanmates headed out to start the new day. Yawning, he scrambled to his paws and followed them. For once it wasn’t raining, though the sky was still gray and there was a damp, chilly breeze.
Squirrelflight was already outside, choosing cats for the dawn patrols. “Greetings, sleepyhead,” she mewed, dipping her head to Bramblestar.
With a jolt Bramblestar remembered his dream. “I have to talk to you,” he told her. “Leafpool and Jayfeather, too. This is important.”
His deputy gave him a worried look but didn’t ask any questions, just called Lionblaze and asked him to take over sorting out the patrols. Meanwhile Bramblestar headed back into the tunnel to find the two medicine cats.
When all four cats were gathered it took a while to find a spot where they could talk without the rest of the Clan overhearing them. Not for the first time, Bramblestar missed the privacy of his old den on the Highledge. Finally they found a hollowed-out spot among the roots of a nearby oak tree.
“Firestar came to me in a dream last night,” Bramblestar told his Clanmates once they were settled around him. “He told me, ‘When water meets blood, blood will rise.’ But I have no idea what that means.”
Leafpool’s gaze lit up. “Firestar is watching over us!” she exclaimed.
Jayfeather looked less impressed. “He might have been a bit clearer,” he grumbled.
“And told us what we need to do,” Squirrelflight agreed, looking frustrated.
“Jayfeather,” Leafpool began, “you know as well as any cat that omens and prophecies are often difficult to understand at first.”
Just like the troublesome stick, Bramblestar thought, guessing that the tabby she-cat had deliberately not mentioned it. If only we’d understood that a bit sooner.
“Often prophecies are only clear after they’ve come true,” Leafpool continued.
“Then what’s the point of having them?” Bramblestar asked, exchanging a glance with Squirrelflight.
“Keep the prophecy in mind as you listen to your instincts,” Leafpool advised him. “Then the meaning should appear.”
Bramblestar still wasn’t sure that he understood, but he realized this was the best advice he was going to get. “Tell me right away if StarClan speaks to either of you,” he ordered the two medicine cats. “And if you have any more ideas about this prophecy.”
“Of course,” Jayfeather responded. “Come on, Leafpool. We have herbs to sort.”
As the medicine cats padded away, Squirrelflight turned to Bramblestar. “Thanks for sharing the prophecy with me,” she meowed. “I promise to keep watch for what it might mean.”
Her support warmed Bramblestar as he led the way back to the other cats, but before he could tell Squirrelflight this, Jessy emerged from the tunnel and came bouncing up to him. The other two kittypets followed more slowly.
“Hi, Bramblestar,” Jessy chirped. “I had a great time yesterday. What are we doing today?”
Bramblestar was slightly taken aback by the brown she-cat’s enthusiasm. “If you really want to help the Clan,” he meowed, “you need to learn how to hunt. Frankie and Minty, too.”
Frankie, who came up in time to hear what Bramblestar said, looked interested, but Minty blinked doubtfully and took a step back.
“Minty, you have to learn,” Frankie told her, touching her shoulder with his tail-tip. “You can’t stay here and expect these cats to feed you.”
“But as soon as the water goes away, we’ll be able to go home,” Minty objected. “My housefolk will be so worried about me. Perhaps we’re too far away from them up here,” she fretted. “Maybe we should move closer to our homes, so when our housefolk come back they can find us quickly.”
Millie, who was standing nearby with Graystripe, turned to the kittypet with a compassionate look in her eyes. “I don’t think the floods will go away for another quarter moon,” she mewed gently. “You’re safe here, safer than you would be in any other Clan’s territory, and you’ll be able to see when the water starts to go down. Then you can go home—but not before, not when it isn’t safe.”
Minty’s eyes clouded with sadness. “We might be stuck here for ages,” she wailed. “My poor housefolk!”
“I know it’s not ideal,” Frankie comforted her. “I want to go back and look for Benny. But we have to keep away from more risks. Surely that’s what our housefolk want most of alclass="underline" for us to survive?”
Minty sighed, but she didn’t argue any more.
Bramblestar felt a pang of sympathy for the kittypets. It had been a shock for them to lose their homes, and even Minty was trying to be brave and sensible. “I’ll take you hunting myself,” he meowed. “Dovewing, will you come too?”
Dovewing, who had been waiting to join a patrol, spun around at the sound of her leader’s voice. “Me? But Ivypool is much better at hunting than me.” She sighed. “In fact, every cat is better than me now…”
Bramblestar knew that she was still regretting the loss of her special powers, which had helped her to pinpoint prey more accurately than any cat in the Clan. “And that’s what makes you the best cat to train these kittypets,” he told her briskly. “You know what it’s like to learn from the very beginning, when you’re feeling blind and deaf and lost in the trees.”
“Oh!” Dovewing was obviously surprised by this idea. “Okay, I’d be glad to help,” she agreed.