“RiverClan appointed Hawkfrost as deputy when Mistyfoot went missing,” Brambleclaw ventured.
Firestar’s eyes narrowed. “That was different. When Mistyfoot disappeared, no cat knew what had happened to her. It seemed impossible that she could still be alive. But now we know that Twolegs trapped the cats that went missing. If they wanted them dead, they would have killed them right away, but they didn’t. Graystripe is being held prisoner somewhere, and sooner or later he’ll escape and come back to us.” His claws scraped against the ground, leaving deep scratches in the dirt. “I won’t give up hope until I’ve seen his body with my own eyes.”
Is it me you’re trying to convince, Brambleclaw wondered bleakly, or yourself?
Without another word, Firestar turned and headed toward the cats who had gathered around Tallstar’s body.
Brambleclaw watched him with guilt and frustration churning in his belly. He wanted to be deputy—and what was so dreadful about that?
Remember Tigerstar, a small voice whispered in his ear, and every hair on Brambleclaw’s pelt pricked with horror.
I’m nothing like Tigerstar! I’m a loyal warrior. I’ve worked hard and risked my life for my Clan. No cat could say I didn’t deserve to be deputy.
He saw Squirrelflight slip silently out of the shadows and touch noses with her father. They settled down side by side just outside the circle of grieving WindClan cats, their flame-colored pelts mingling together.
A pang of envy shook Brambleclaw, sharp as a winter wind.
He had quarreled with Squirrelflight over Hawkfrost, and his sister, Tawnypelt, belonged to another Clan. He didn’t have any cat to share that uncomplicated affection that Squirrelflight had with Firestar.
How many times do I have to prove myself? he wondered desperately. Hawkfrost didn’t seem to have the same trouble in RiverClan, even though Tigerstar was his father too.
Brambleclaw felt a sudden desire to seek him out and talk to him, but with the Clans on the brink of going their separate ways, he knew that the moment was past.
Brambleclaw wanted to be deputy so much that it hurt.
Why couldn’t Firestar and Squirrelflight trust him? He shut his eyes, his claws sinking into the ground as a wave of hunger swept blackly over him, turning his blood to ice.
Chapter 8
Leafpaw crouched not far from Tallstar’s body, watching the cats who came to keep vigil for the dead leader. Daylight spread steadily from beyond the ridge of hills, revealing a gray sky with clouds hanging low over the trees. A damp, chilly wind blew from the lake and made the branches rattle together like mouse bones.
The dead leader’s body looked grim and stark. Leafpaw shivered. It felt very strange to be sitting in vigil in the cold light of morning. Usually the ceremony was carried out at night, when the unmoving shape would be muffled by shadows as comforting as soft, black fur.
Glancing away from Tallstar’s body, Leafpaw let her thoughts wander. Anxiety gnawed at her, sharp as a fox’s fangs. Onewhisker couldn’t go all the way back to the Moonstone to receive his name and his nine lives from StarClan; he was too tired to make the long journey twice over again, and it was obvious Mudclaw would seize upon his absence to make trouble. But what would happen to the Clans if their leaders didn’t share tongues with StarClan?
The warrior code would fade away like mist in sunshine, and they would be nothing more than rogues.
“StarClan must guide us!” she mewed out loud.
Cinderpelt glanced around from where she was talking to Barkface. “Leafpaw? What’s the matter?” She padded over, looking concerned.
Leafpaw shook her head. “Sorry I disturbed you, Cinderpelt. I was just thinking about Onewhisker. What’s he going to do if he can’t go to Highstones?”
Cinderpelt stretched out her tail and touched Leafpaw gently on the head. “Don’t worry,” she reassured her. “StarClan will show us a new place to share tongues with them.”
“But when?” Leafpaw gazed into her mentor’s blue eyes.
“Onewhisker needs his name and his nine lives now.”
“Leafpaw, be patient. StarClan can’t be hurried. There’ll be an answer, you’ll see. And meanwhile,” she added more briskly, “you could be doing something useful instead of worrying. Look, Mothwing has the right idea. She’s fetching water for all the kits and elders.”
On the other side of the clearing, the RiverClan medicine cat was padding toward a group of WindClan cats, her mouth filled with dripping moss. Leafpaw realized with a guilty pang that she had done nothing except fret over things she could not help.
“Sorry, Cinderpelt,” she meowed, getting to her paws. “I’ll go and fetch some moss too.”
Cinderpelt nodded. “You’ll feel better if you’re busy.”
Leafpaw headed for the lake, but she had barely left the copse of trees when she spotted several cats bounding up the slope. Their pelts were slick with lake water, and Leafpaw recognized Hawkfrost in the lead. It was the RiverClan patrol that had gone to explore the island as soon as the first streaks of dawn appeared.
Curious, she turned back and followed them into the center of the clearing.
Hawkfrost leaped onto the tree stump and let out a yowl to summon all the cats to listen to him. Leafpaw wondered if he should have done that.
“What’s he playing at? The stump’s for the leaders, just like the Great Rock at Fourtrees.” Sorreltail echoed Leafpaw’s thoughts as she trotted over to join her friend.
“Hawkfrost isn’t even a deputy anymore.”
But no cat challenged the RiverClan warrior. Instead the Clans gathered quickly to hear Hawkfrost’s news.
“Well?” Leopardstar prompted. “Did you make it to the island? What did you find?”
“Everything we could have hoped for,” Hawkfrost declared. “I can’t imagine a better place for a camp. StarClan must have had it in mind when they brought us here. There’s the lake to fish in, trees for shelter, and it’s safe from predators—or anything else that might attack us,” he added, his eyes flashing toward the rival Clans.
Several mews of agreement came from the RiverClan warriors, and Blackclaw called out, “Well done, Hawkfrost!”
The tabby warrior dipped his head. “I’m only trying to do what’s best for the Clan,” he replied.
Leafpaw was surprised to hear a loud “Huh!” coming from just behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Squirrelflight glaring at Hawkfrost with unmistakable hostility.
Quietly Leafpaw wriggled backward until she reached her sister. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t trust him,” Squirrelflight muttered, not taking her eyes from the RiverClan warrior.
“Me neither,” Leafpaw meowed. She thought back to the day in the forest when Sorreltail had accidentally crossed the RiverClan border while chasing a squirrel. Hawkfrost had caught her, and only Mothwing’s warning about making trouble between the Clans had made him let her go. He had made his ambitions perfectly clear then, even hinting that RiverClan might move into ThunderClan territory while they were weak from lack of prey.
Leafpaw and Sorreltail had decided not to say anything about the incident to Firestar or their Clanmates. Sorreltail didn’t want to confess that she had crossed the border, and she pointed out that any ambitious young warrior might have dreams of taking over another Clan’s hunting ground.