“Have they all fallen over?” he muttered. “I’m sure I put one just here!”
“Hey, Bramblestar!” Cloudtail called.
Turning, Bramblestar saw that the white warrior was standing a couple of fox-lengths up the slope, a marker stick poking out of the ground beside him. Another stick stood a few tail-lengths away, and another: a whole line of them stretching along the slope well above the edge of the flood.
Relief surged through Bramblestar, making him dizzy. “The water’s going down!”
“Brilliant!” Cloudtail’s blue eyes gleamed. “We will get our home back; you can be sure of that.”
Chapter 24
“What?” Mousewhisker was the first cat to leap to his paws when Bramblestar and Cloudtail returned to the tunnel to announce that the water was going down. “I’ve got to see this!”
He charged out of the tunnel, almost knocking Bramblestar and Cloudtail off their paws. Rosepetal, Thornclaw, Birchfall, and several other cats streamed after him and disappeared into the trees.
Lionblaze rose and tried to limp after them, but Jayfeather blocked him before he could leave the tunnel. “Stay here, flea-brain!” he hissed.
Lionblaze raised a paw as if he was going to swipe his brother across his ears, but he stopped himself at the last moment and went back to his nest with an angry twitch of his tail. Cinderheart gave his ears a lick as he flopped down into the moss, but Lionblaze didn’t respond to her. The gray she-cat’s blue eyes were filled with worry and frustration.
“Speak to Cinderheart.” Sandstorm appeared at Bramblestar’s side and spoke quietly. “Tell her that all warriors get hurt, and it’s tough learning how to heal.”
Bramblestar sighed. I’m no good at talking to cats about their feelings. But he recognized the wisdom in Sandstorm’s words, and he called Cinderheart over to him with a wave of his tail.
“I know you’re having a tough time…” he began awkwardly.
“I’m so afraid!” The words burst out of Cinderheart. “Lionblaze just won’t accept that he’s not invincible anymore. He’ll end up getting himself killed!”
“No, he won’t.” Bramblestar tried his best to reassure her. “He’s not stupid. He’ll adjust in time.” He tried to understand how Lionblaze must be feeling, after living so long without fearing injury. “He’ll have to find a different kind of courage, that’s all,” he went on. “One that takes account of his limitations. He can’t fight alone now; he must stay with his Clanmates. That might feel like failure to him, even though it’s not.”
Cinderheart nodded. “I know I shouldn’t nag him about being reckless,” she mewed. “I need to try to understand what it must feel like, to be in danger of getting hurt when it’s never happened before. You’re right: He must feel like he is letting us all down because he can’t fight like he used to. Thanks, Bramblestar.” Looking much happier, she went back to Lionblaze and curled up beside him in silent sympathy.
“There was good sense in what you told her,” Sandstorm murmured, appearing at Bramblestar’s side once more.
Bramblestar hadn’t realized that the ginger she-cat was listening. “You gave me good advice,” he responded.
Sandstorm dipped her head. “You’re welcome.”
Glancing around the camp, Bramblestar realized that Millie was looking anxious, and for once it didn’t seem to be about Briarlight. Her gaze was flickering up and down the tunnel, and when the cats began to return from checking the water level, she got up and went to join them at the entrance.
“Has any cat seen Frankie?” she asked.
Birchfall shook his head. “He didn’t come with us.”
“Isn’t he with the kittypets?” Poppyfrost meowed.
But Jessy and Minty were curled up in their own nests, drowsily sharing tongues, and there was no sign of Frankie. Millie wove her way through the other cats toward them, and Bramblestar, sensing a problem, padded over as well.
“Have you seen Frankie?” Millie called to them.
“No,” Jessy replied. “Not since we got back from our patrol.”
“Any cat seen Frankie?” Bramblestar yowled, raising his voice so all his Clanmates could hear him.
There was no response except for shaken heads and murmurs of confusion.
Minty sprang to her paws, all her fur fluffed up and her tail brushed out. “Oh, no!” she wailed. “He’s been eaten by a fox!”
“No, I’m sure—” Bramblestar began, although he had a horrible suspicion that something equally bad might have happened to the kittypet, and he could sense that tension was rising among the rest of the Clan. Then he broke off as he spotted movement at the tunnel entrance and Frankie staggered in, soaked through and exhausted.
“Frankie!” Minty screeched. “You’re not dead!”
“Where have you been?” Millie demanded, stumbling over other cats as she hurried toward him.
Frankie glanced around, bewildered to see all his Clanmates’ gazes fixed on him. “What’s all the fuss about?” he panted. “I just went hunting on my own. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch anything.”
“I thought you’d been eaten!” Minty mewed with a shudder.
“I’m fine.”
Frankie headed toward the other kittypets, but Bramblestar intercepted him before he reached them. “Listen,” he mewed, “don’t go off on your own like that. It’s not safe.”
“I can look after myself!” Frankie snapped.
And hedgehogs fly, Bramblestar thought. But Frankie seemed tense and upset, so all he said was, “Go get some food and rest.”
After he had watched Frankie head back out to the fresh-kill pile, Bramblestar realized that Squirrelflight had appeared at his side. “You know,” she mewed gently, “you mustn’t let the kittypets take up so much of your attention. They are just visitors, after all. And now that the floods are going down, they’ll be able to return to their Twoleg dens soon.”
Bramblestar glanced across at the kittypets. Frankie was gulping down a thrush, while Jessy was teaching Minty how to pounce directly from a crouch. He felt a pang of loss run through him from ears to tail-tip at the idea of saying good-bye. “I’ve kind of gotten used to having them around,” he admitted.
“We have enough mouths to feed,” Squirrelflight pointed out.
“They’re learning to hunt!” Bramblestar protested.
Squirrelflight’s gaze rested on him for a long moment. “You don’t know that they want to stay here. Let them decide where they want to be,” she meowed at last.
When Bramblestar woke the next morning, he could hardly believe what he was seeing. Faint rays of sunlight were angling in through the tunnel entrance, and the air felt soft, laden with green scents. His pads tingling with optimism, he headed outside, enjoying the hint of newleaf warmth on his fur.
Squirrelflight was already in the open, arranging the patrols, with several of their Clanmates around her. “Cloudtail has gone to check the ShadowClan border,” she reported to Bramblestar.
“Then I’ll take a patrol over to WindClan,” Bramblestar decided. “I want to find out what they’re up to now that the water has started to go down.”
“I’ll come.” Berrynose thrust his way through the other cats. “Jayfeather says I’m fit for warrior duties again.”
“Great,” Bramblestar meowed. Glancing around, he spotted Whitewing with Dewpaw. “I’ll take you two as well. And you, Thornclaw, and… yes, Brightheart.” I’d better have a good number of cats, just in case WindClan causes any trouble.
But when Bramblestar and his patrol reached the WindClan border, there was no trace of WindClan scent on ThunderClan territory. Padding up to the edge of the stream, Bramblestar saw that the current was wider and deeper than before, but had retreated within its banks again. We really are getting back to normal.