“What does she want?” Squirrelflight meowed.
Bramblestar felt slightly uneasy. “I don’t know. I’ll go and ask her.” He padded up to the kittypet, wondering whether some disaster had overtaken their temporary camp. “Is everything okay?”
Jessy blinked at him, her eyes gleaming. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting,” she mewed. “Everything’s fine. This can wait until later if you’re busy.”
“No, now’s a good time,” Bramblestar told her. Glancing back at Squirrelflight, he called, “Round up those two daft furballs and go back to camp.” Then he led Jessy along the top of the flood, heading toward the ShadowClan border. “What can I do for you?” he asked.
Instead of replying, Jessy stopped and looked out over the drowned forest. “I wonder what it was like here before the floods came,” she murmured.
“It was beautiful,” Bramblestar replied at once. “There was long grass, and patches of fern and bramble where the prey could hide. In greenleaf the sun would shine through the branches and make patterns on the ground. The air would be full of scents—fresh green growth, and the warm scents of prey. And then in leaf-bare, in the frost and snow, the cold would make your pelt tingle, and you’d feel so alive!”
“You love living here, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” Bramblestar meowed, walking on. “I can remember our old home, and I still walk there in my dreams, but—but I have always believed that StarClan has led us to the right place here.”
“Are you quite sure about that?” Jessy pressed, picking up the note of doubt in his voice.
“I have to have faith that the floods will go down,” Bramblestar told her. “But come on, Jessy,” he added. “You didn’t come looking for me just to chat about the forest.”
Jessy narrowed her eyes. “No, I wanted to talk about the kittypets who are giving ShadowClan all that trouble. I think I know who they are.”
“You do?” Bramblestar felt suddenly excited. “Who?”
“There’s a gang of kittypets and a few strays who like to claim that part of the forest for themselves,” Jessy replied. “They hunt there—not that they ever catch anything,” she added with a sly sideways glance at Bramblestar.
Will she ever forget that I said that to her? “Go on,” he mewed.
“I don’t know these kittypets well,” Jessy continued. “I think one’s called Ziggy, and another one is Riga. But I know where they live and where they like to roam.”
Bramblestar felt the fur along his spine start to rise. “Are you suggesting we attack them without ShadowClan’s approval?”
Jessy shrugged. “It’s a possibility.”
For a moment Bramblestar was filled with admiration for Jessy’s courage, and for how she was willing to help wild cats who were completely unknown to her.
“I can see how much your sister means to you,” Jessy added. Taken aback by her perceptiveness, Bramblestar couldn’t think of anything to say before she went on. “Do lots of cats have kin in other Clans?”
“Great StarClan, no!” Bramblestar exclaimed. “Cats are supposed to stay in the Clan where they were born. Clan loyalty is very important to us. A cat who changed Clans would be thought of as a traitor, and it would be hard for their new Clan to trust them. Tawnypelt only went to live in ShadowClan because our father became their leader.”
“Wow!” Jessy’s eyes stretched wide. “Why didn’t you go with her?”
Bramblestar hesitated. I can’t tell her about Tigerstar! We’d be here all day! “It’s… complicated,” he meowed at last. “ThunderClan has always been my home. I miss Tawnypelt, but I’ve never regretted my decision.”
He and Jessy padded on in silence for a few moments, until Bramblestar began to pick up the scent of ShadowClan border markers. “We should turn back here,” he mewed.
“Okay.” Jessy bounced on her paws. “But we’re going to attack these kittypets, right? I can show you where to find them. They often go out at night, and that would be a really good time to sneak up on them.” She jumped up and swiped one paw at a head of cow parsley, scattering the tiny white flowers on the grass. “We’ll soon teach them to stay away from Clan cats!”
“Hang on,” Bramblestar warned. “I haven’t said we’re doing it yet. I have to speak with my Clanmates first.”
For a moment Jessy looked wounded. “But—”
She broke off at the sound of cats brushing through the undergrowth. Bramblestar stiffened, then relaxed as he picked up ThunderClan scent. A patrol came into view with Cloudtail in the lead, followed by Birchfall and Whitewing, with her apprentice, Dewpaw.
“Bramblestar!” Cloudtail ran up to his leader with his ears flattened. “Those mangy crow-food eaters from ShadowClan have been trespassing again!”
Bramblestar saw that all the cats in the patrol were bristling with anger, their eyes glittering.
“We picked up their scent several tail-lengths inside our border,” Birchfall confirmed.
“Those kittypets you heard about must be attacking them on their other border,” Whitewing meowed, “so they’re trying to hunt on our territory.”
“We can’t let them get away with it!” Cloudtail growled.
“No, we can’t,” Bramblestar agreed. Turning to Jessy, he meowed, “It looks like we need your plan.”
The evening was clear and calm, with a few gaps in the clouds that let through stray gleams of red sunlight. Long shadows stretched across the clearing outside the tunnel, and a fresh breeze stirred the branches.
This is the best weather we’ve had since the floods came, Bramblestar thought hopefully. Maybe things are changing.
Jumping to the top of the mudfall, he gave a yowl. “Let all cats who are old enough to catch their own prey come here outside the tunnel for a Clan meeting!”
Surprised mews burst from the cats nearest the tunnel, who were trying to warm their fur in the last of the sunlight. The apprentices broke off their fighting practice at the far side of the clearing and pattered eagerly across to the bottom of the mudfall, followed by their mentors. Daisy, Cherryfall, and Blossomfall popped out of the tunnel. Purdy appeared a moment later, his pelt stuck all over with moss, and plopped himself down beside the apprentices. Jessy bounded over to Frankie and Minty, who were sharing a blackbird under an arching clump of fern, and chivvied them over to join the rest. Jayfeather came to sit at the mouth of the tunnel, with the sick cats clustered around him.
“Cats of ThunderClan,” Bramblestar began when all the cats were assembled, “and our guests.” He dipped his head to the three kittypets. “You all know that kittypets have been harassing ShadowClan in the woods beyond their top border. Tomorrow I’m going to lead a patrol to get rid of them.”
“What?” Dustpelt sprang to his paws. “Have you got bees in your brain?”
“You offered ShadowClan our help and they turned you down,” Graystripe pointed out. “Rowanstar won’t thank you for interfering.”
Several other cats echoed their protests. Bramblestar looked down on their bristling fur and twitching tails. It’s just as well I haven’t told them this was Jessy’s idea.
“If the kittypets are allowed to keep attacking ShadowClan,” he went on, forcing himself to stay calm, “then ShadowClan will start to hunt in our territory, or in the woods beyond our border. It’s in our own interest to deal with the kittypets.” He was relieved to see that several of his cats were looking interested, but he knew that he hadn’t won them over yet.
“Why can’t ShadowClan deal with their own problems?” Mousewhisker protested. “These are kittypets, for StarClan’s sake! How dangerous can they be?”