“Then StarClan have brought us to an excellent place,” Longtail meowed. “I can easily imagine us building our camp here.”
Their optimism cheered Brambleclaw up, even though not all the cats shared it. Ferncloud was looking around doubtfully, and Sootfur was sniffing the air with an irritable look, as if he expected prey to leap into his paws.
Mousefur snorted. “Those bushes will be cold and wet and full of ticks, I shouldn’t wonder.”
Squirrelflight’s eyes narrowed, but before she could make a stinging retort Sandstorm flicked her warningly on the ears with her tail.
“Come on, it’s got a lot going for it,” she mewed bracingly.
“Those walls will shelter us from bad weather. And like you said, Squirrelflight, it should be easy to defend.”
“We’ll have to do something about that, though.” Dustpelt nodded his head toward the entrance. “The whole of ShadowClan could be through there in a couple of heartbeats.”
Even though Brambleclaw had thought exactly the same thing when he first saw the hollow, he couldn’t help feeling annoyed. Did his Clanmates expect the camp to be perfect from the first moment they set paw inside it?
“It’s too late to do anything tonight,” Firestar meowed.
“And far too dark. But you’re right, it looks a likely place for a camp,” he added to Brambleclaw. “We can make up our minds for sure when we see it in daylight. Dustpelt, Thornclaw, could you check that we’re not sharing the place with any foxes or badgers? The rest of us can start finding places to sleep.”
The two warriors peeled off from the group and began to circle the hollow in opposite directions, scenting the air every few pawsteps and peering into clefts in the rock and underneath bushes. Feeling as if he couldn’t walk another step, Brambleclaw watched until they were swallowed by the shadows at the foot of the cliff.
“What about fresh-kill?” Rainwhisker asked. “Do we have to go to sleep hungry?”
One or two voices were raised in agreement, and Brambleclaw felt his neck fur begin to rise.
“It’s not long ago we went to sleep hungry every night,” Squirrelflight muttered into his ear. She sounded as disappointed as he was with their Clanmates’ reaction to the hollow. “Why are they complaining so much?”
“We’ve been very well fed since we reached the lake,” Brambleclaw reminded her. “Our bellies are used to being full again. But it won’t do any cat harm to wait until morning to eat.”
“We’ll send out patrols at dawn,” Firestar promised his Clan.
There was some muttering at that, but gradually it died away, and the group began to split up as cats looked for sleeping places.
“Brambleclaw, do you know if there’s a sheltered place for Birchkit?” Ferncloud asked anxiously. “I’m afraid he’ll come down with whitecough if he doesn’t have somewhere warm to sleep.”
“I don’t know,” Brambleclaw admitted, “but I’ll help you look. There are brambles near the wall just a bit farther up.”
“And what about some moss for bedding?” Mousefur broke in. “Are we expected to sleep on bare earth?
Squirrelflight said there would be a warm den waiting for me once I crossed that wretched stream.”
“I can’t do everything!” Brambleclaw snapped, his patience giving way. “You’ll have to do the best you can for tonight.”
Mousefur curled her lip and turned away with her shoulders hunched. Brambleclaw felt his fur prickle, and looked up to see Firestar watching him. The Clan leader’s eyes were expressionless, but Brambleclaw knew that if he wanted to be Clan deputy, losing his temper with one of the older warriors wasn’t the best way of going about it.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, padding after Mousefur. “I’ll come and help when I’ve settled Ferncloud, okay?”
“No, I’ll do it.” Brackenfur came over and pressed his muzzle against Mousefur’s shoulder. “Don’t take it out on Brambleclaw,” he told her. “He’s doing his best.”
Mousefur sniffed. “His best is pretty poor, then.”
“You’ll feel better when you’ve had a good sleep,” Brackenfur promised. “Come on, let’s take a look among the ferns over there.”
With a sympathetic glance at Brambleclaw, he headed for the rock wall. Mousefur followed him, her tail trailing over the damp grass. Brambleclaw felt a stab of pity for her. The elderly warrior wasn’t usually this difficult; she must be exhausted from the journey, and as scared as any of them about finding a new home.
As he helped Ferncloud look for a nest for her kit, he thought about the way Brackenfur had dealt with Mousefur.
The ginger warrior had been good-humored and calm in spite of her ill temper, showing his moons of experience in caring for his Clanmates. Didn’t that mean he deserved to be deputy more than Brambleclaw? Brambleclaw curled his tail in discomfort. Not just Brackenfur—several other cats had been warriors for longer than him, like Dustpelt and Cloudtail.
But that wasn’t the only reason Brambleclaw might never become deputy. He carried a burden that no other ThunderClan warrior shared: Tigerstar. When they were leaving the forest, Firestar had declared that all Tigerstar’s children had earned their places within their Clans; he had been trying to persuade Hawkfrost and Mothwing to stay in RiverClan rather than leave with Sasha, their rogue mother, but Brambleclaw knew he had been thinking of Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, too. Even so, no cat could forget the degree of hostility between Firestar and Tigerstar that had almost destroyed every Clan in the forest with the heat of its flame, and Brambleclaw doubted that his leader would ever be able to look at him and not see the ghost of his old enemy padding at his shoulder.
By the time he had found a place for Ferncloud and Birchkit among the brambles and scraped up some dead bracken to make a nest, most of the other cats had found sleeping places. Instinctively he looked around for Squirrelflight, spotting her among a patch of ferns with some of the younger warriors.
Brambleclaw called her name, but if she heard him she didn’t reply. Instead she curled up beside Ashfur, her dark ginger fur mingling with his gray pelt. Brambleclaw took a step toward her, then turned away. If she was waiting for him to apologize for speaking to Hawkfrost, she would have to wait a very long time.
Looking for a sheltered spot of his own, he passed his mother, Goldenflower, who had just settled Longtail into a nest of dried bracken. It looked as if the tabby warrior was asleep already, his sightless eyes tightly shut and his tail curled over his nose.
“Cheer up,” Goldenflower meowed. “Everything’s going to be fine; I know it is.”
Brambleclaw slumped down beside her. He was too tired to pretend this was how he had wanted the Clan to arrive in their new home. “It wouldn’t hurt for every cat to be a bit more enthusiastic,” he complained.
Goldenflower pressed her muzzle against his flank and let out an affectionate purr. “We’re exhausted. What do you expect? Every cat knows how much we owe to you. If we’d stayed in the forest, we would be dead by now. Instead, you brought us here. We’re safe.”
“I know, but—”
“So the journey’s end isn’t quite what you hoped for. Right now I can’t see that that matters.” She drew her tongue over his ears in a brisk lick; for a moment Brambleclaw felt like a kit again, and wished himself back in the nursery with Tawnypelt beside him, and nothing more urgent to worry about than their next feed, or whether it was warm enough to play outside.
“Get some sleep,” his mother told him, moving away and breaking the illusion. “Everything will look better in the morning.”
Chapter 10
