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    Warriors Super Edition: Bramblestar's Storm
    Warriors Super Edition: Bramblestar's Storm
    Warriors Super Edition: Bramblestar's Storm
    Ebook516 pages6 hours

    Warriors Super Edition: Bramblestar's Storm

    By Erin Hunter and James L. Barry

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    An epic stand-alone adventure in Erin Hunter’s #1 nationally bestselling Warriors series!

    In this Super Edition, return to ThunderClan after the events of the fourth Warriors arc, Omen of the Stars.

    The Dark Forest has been defeated, and Bramblestar is now leader of ThunderClan. But the warrior cats must learn to weather a new kind of storm—or all four Clans will be swept away.

    Join the legion of fans who have discovered the epic adventures, fierce warrior cats, and thrilling fantasy world of the mega-bestselling Warriors series. This stand-alone entry is perfect for new readers and dedicated fans alike.

    Bramblestar's Storm also includes an exclusive ten-page Warriors manga adventure!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateAug 26, 2014
    ISBN9780062291462
    Author

    Erin Hunter

    Erin Hunter is inspired by a love of cats and a fascination with the ferocity of the natural world. In addition to having great respect for nature in all its forms, Erin enjoys creating rich mythical explanations for animal behavior. She is the author of the Warriors, Seekers, Survivors, Bravelands, and Bamboo Kingdom series. Erin lives in the UK.

    Read more from Erin Hunter

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    Reviews for Warriors Super Edition

    4.5/5

    51 ratings6 reviews

    What our readers think

    Readers find this title to be a great book that they loved and would recommend to anyone. They found it incredible and appreciated the efforts of the main character, Bramblestar, in keeping his clan safe. Overall, they were thankful to Erin Hunter for creating such a remarkable and enjoyable read.

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 5/5
      Ⓒⓞⓞⓛ ⓒⓞⓞⓛ ⓒⓞⓞⓛ ⓒⓞⓞⓛ ⓒⓞⓞⓞⓛ ⓒⓞⓞⓛ ⓒⓞⓞⓛ ⓖⓡⓔⓐⓣ ⓥⓔⓡⓨ ⓖⓡⓔⓐⓣ ⓒⓞⓞⓛ
    • 5/5
      A wonderful new Super Edition to the Warrior's series. I had been disappointed after Yellowfang's Secret, but Bramblestar's Storm made up for that.Bramblestar is a good character, passionate and loving, and this book let's us look into his mind, how he feels after losing his beloved mentor and friend, Firestar. But it also shows his development from being Firestar's follower, to being his own, independent clanleader.

      2 people found this helpful

    • 5/5
      I loved it!
      At first I was just like “what the flipping hell!? Why is Firestar gone!? He’s the main character for goodness sake!?”! Now I’m like “oooooohhhhhhhhh. Firestar died in the great battle! That explains a lot! But still, WHAT THE HELL!? Why couldn’t squirrelflight have Kits in the first place!? I mean... wow *sighs*”

      1 person found this helpful

    • 5/5
      Great book! Loved it so much and would recommend it to anyone.

      2 people found this helpful

    • 5/5
      Love it I'm so surprised squirrel flights going to have. Kits!MUST KNOW WHO THEY ARE , MUST SEE THEM!?????

      2 people found this helpful

    • 5/5
      This book was absolutely incredible, Bramblestar tries so hard to keep his clan safe and he is a remarkable and great leader... Thank you so much Erin Hunter! :)

      2 people found this helpful

    Book preview

    Warriors Super Edition - Erin Hunter

    MAPS

    PROLOGUE

    Firestar brushed through the long grass beneath the trees and drank in the warm scents of prey. Sunlight sliced between the branches, casting dapples onto his flame-colored pelt. For a moment he paused, unsure which of the tantalizing aromas he should follow. Then he picked out the scent of a squirrel; it had swarmed up the trunk of a nearby oak tree and was hiding somewhere in the branches above his head.

    It’s been a while since I tested my tree-climbing skills, he thought, remembering how he had taught his Clanmates to hunt aboveground. Lionblaze really hated it at first. With a purr of amusement Firestar recalled the golden-furred warrior standing at the foot of a tree, reluctant to set paw on the trunk. Unlike Cinderheart, who seemed ready to sleep in a bird’s nest once she learned how to climb.

    Firestar sprang up the tree, digging his claws into the rough bark, and spotted the squirrel on one of the outer branches. He leaped toward it, reveling in the strength in his haunches, pleased that he still kept his sense of balance. The squirrel fled, jumping from branch to branch, higher and higher. As Firestar crouched, ready to follow, he heard a voice calling him from below.

    Firestar! Firestar!

    He halted; the leaves around him rustled as the squirrel vanished into the dense foliage. Firestar allowed himself a single hiss of regret, then turned and scrambled down the trunk to the ground.

    Bluestar, the former ThunderClan leader, was waiting for him at the foot of the tree. Her blue-gray fur shimmered in the sunlight. Sorry to disturb you, Firestar, she meowed. Her eyes glinted. I see you haven’t lost any of your hunting skill. You looked pretty comfortable up there . . . but I’m happy to leave the tree hunting to others. Walk with me, she added, nodding deeper into the forest.

    Firestar padded by her side, enjoying the sun’s warmth soaking into his pelt. StarClan has everything to make a cat content, he thought. But I still miss my old home and my Clanmates. Sometimes it seems like I left them when they needed me most.

    ThunderClan has had a difficult time, hasn’t it? Bluestar commented, as if she had picked up Firestar’s regrets. Wounded cats had scarcely healed after the Great Battle when the greencough came.

    Firestar hesitated before replying, swallowing the wail of grief that rose in his chest. We were already weakened by the battle; we didn’t stand a chance of fighting the greencough.

    He took a breath and let it out in a long sigh. There has been so much loss, so much pain. But the sickness has gone, thanks to Leafpool and Jayfeather. He forced a note of optimism into his voice. Brightheart and Cloudtail’s kits have become apprentices. And Bramblestar is a fair and confident leader. ThunderClan will survive.

    Of course. Bluestar nodded. Bramblestar had a good mentor. Do you walk in his dreams?

    I don’t need to, Firestar responded. I trust him. He felt a familiar stab of anger in his belly. I shouldn’t have had to leave my Clan, he hissed. I could have gone on serving them for many more seasons.

    Could you have saved them from the greencough? Healed their injuries more quickly? Bluestar rested her tail on his shoulder. You gave ThunderClan nine good lives. They could not ask for any more.

    Ducking beneath some curling fronds of fern, they padded across a glade of bright green grass, circled by silver birch trees.

    All of the Clans have struggled this leaf-bare, Bluestar mewed. ShadowClan has more elders than warriors, and WindClan lost most of its best hunters in the Great Battle. It is hard for every cat here to watch our Clanmates suffer. She paused to hold a bramble out of Firestar’s way. But there is always hope. Especially in StarClan.

    I know, Firestar meowed. But I never realized how far I would be from my Clan. And I—I always thought Spottedleaf would be here to guide me. He pictured the beautiful tortoiseshell she-cat, ThunderClan’s former medicine cat, who had given up her existence in StarClan fighting for her living Clanmates. Her amber eyes seemed to glow with sadness in his memory.

    Spottedleaf will be much missed, Bluestar agreed, a slight edge to her tone. But one day Sandstorm will come here to be with you.

    One day. Pain clawed once more at Firestar’s heart as he thought of his mate. How many seasons must I wait for her?

    Firestar had made a warm nest for himself at the bottom of a hollow tree. It seemed strange not to be sleeping in a camp with other cats, though if he listened carefully, he could hear the gentle murmurs of StarClan warriors settling around him, hidden in the ferns. As he closed his eyes, he hoped that he would dream himself into ThunderClan.

    Instead it seemed only a heartbeat since he had slipped into sleep when he was roused by a paw prodding him in the shoulder. Firestar raised his head, blinking.

    Wake up, Firestar, a voice meowed.

    A cat was standing in front of him: a muscular gray tom with patches of white on his fur.

    Cloudstar! Firestar exclaimed.

    The former SkyClan leader dipped his head. Greetings, Firestar.

    Firestar scrambled to his paws and shook scraps of moss from his pelt. He had last seen Cloudstar many, many seasons before, after the gray-and-white tom had led him upriver from the forest to restore his lost Clan. Once Leafstar, the new SkyClan leader, had received her nine lives, Firestar and Cloudstar had said farewell. Firestar had never expected to see him again.

    What are you doing here? he asked. The skies you walk are so far away.

    I was allowed to visit you, Cloudstar replied. We must talk together. Come.

    He padded ahead of Firestar down a grassy slope to the edge of the forest. A pool of water stretched before them, its silver surface reflecting the light of the full moon.

    I want to thank you again, for understanding why it was so important to rebuild SkyClan, Cloudstar meowed, halting at the water’s edge and resting his calm blue gaze on Firestar. Sometimes one Clan cannot survive without the help of others.

    Firestar nodded. We’ve certainly learned that recently, if we didn’t know it before, he murmured. For a heartbeat the darkness of the Great Battle swirled around him once more, the stench of blood and the shrieks of dying cats.

    I saw your terrible battle, Cloudstar meowed. And for the first time I was glad that I had to lead my Clan to find a new home, because we were spared the vengeance of the Dark Forest.

    It wasn’t vengeance. It was slaughter. Firestar felt the fur rise along his spine. I had to watch my Clanmates die. I gave my last life to save them . . . and it wasn’t enough.

    The battle was won, Cloudstar pointed out quietly. You did not lose your life for nothing. He padded alongside the pool, stepping delicately among the vegetation that grew by the edge of the water.

    Firestar kept pace with him, their pelts brushing. You haven’t come all the way here to thank me for helping Leafstar, or to speak about the Great Battle. What is it, Cloudstar? Is there something wrong in SkyClan?

    Cloudstar stopped and sat down, looking across the pool. Suddenly he lifted his hind paw and sliced a foreclaw across his pad. A line of blood oozed out and dripped into the water, spreading in a scarlet cloud against the silver.

    The violence of Cloudstar’s response made Firestar wince. He stood with his mouth open, staring at the swirl of blood.

    I bring a message that you need to take to Bramblestar, Cloudstar meowed, still gazing at the water.

    A prophecy? Firestar echoed. My first prophecy! I am a true StarClan cat!

    "Yes. Listen well, Firestar. When water meets blood, blood will rise."

    Firestar blinked. Is that it? What does it mean?

    We do not need to know the meaning, Cloudstar told him, turning until his eyes burned into Firestar’s like two small moons. Bramblestar will find that out for himself.

    And when do I give this message to Bramblestar? Firestar asked. He resisted the urge to demand more answers from the old cat. Do all StarClan cats deliver prophecies that seem to mean nothing?

    You will know when the time comes, Cloudstar replied.

    Could you be any more vague? Firestar thought irritably. But he kept his voice steady. Does this mean that more trouble is coming for my Clan?

    The life of the warrior Clans is always storm-tossed, Cloudstar meowed. It’s our duty—the duty of all StarClan—to watch over them, whatever happens. His gaze softened. I’m sorry, Firestar. I know this isn’t what you want to hear. But I promise, this message will help Bramblestar in the end. You have to trust me on that.

    Firestar sighed. I do trust you. But is it too much to ask that ThunderClan could have a few seasons of peace, after they’ve suffered so much?

    CHAPTER 1

    Bramblestar stood near the entrance to the hollow and breathed deeply. The sky was milky-pale with dawn, and mist still drifted between the trees, but the air was full of the scents of fresh, growing things, announcing new life. Each twig was tipped with green, and tight fronds of ferns were starting to uncoil in the midst of the dead bracken.

    It’s been a long, harsh leaf-bare, Bramblestar thought. The heavy snow made it harder, and we have so few warriors to hunt prey. Fewer still since the greencough . . . Then he gave his pelt a shake. His Clan had made it through the bitter, grief-wracked leaf-bare, and the warmer weather was returning. We’ve survived six moons since the Great Battle, he meowed aloud. And now we’ll start to build up our strength again. Nothing will destroy ThunderClan.

    That’s right.

    Bramblestar jumped at the sound of Berrynose’s voice. He hadn’t noticed the cream-colored warrior emerging from the barrier of thorns behind him.

    Berrynose, you nearly frightened me out of my fur! he exclaimed.

    Nothing frightens you, Bramblestar, Berrynose responded. I’m leading a border patrol. Do you want to come with us?

    As he spoke, Millie and Rosepetal pushed their way through the prickly wall, closely followed by one of the new apprentices, Amberpaw. Her mentor, Spiderleg, brought up the rear.

    Amberpaw bounced up to Berrynose. Where are we going today? she chirped. WindClan or ShadowClan? What will we do if we catch them trespassing? Will we need to fight? I learned a great move!

    Berrynose looked a little overwhelmed, and it was Spiderleg who replied. Amberpaw, if you stop twittering like a blackbird and start listening, you might learn something.

    His words were stern but not harsh, and Bramblestar was pleased to see that Amberpaw wasn’t at all intimidated by her mentor. Okay, Spiderleg, she mewed. But—

    We’re going along the WindClan border, Berrynose interrupted. And we’re not expecting trouble. He strode downhill toward the lake.

    Bramblestar waited until the rest of the patrol had passed, then fell in behind them. He noticed how thin the cats were, their ribs visible beneath sparse pelts. But their alertness showed in every twitch of their ears, and muscles bunched in their scrawny haunches as they moved. ThunderClan was not beaten yet.

    Amberpaw skittered between the trees in a broad zigzag, and Spiderleg stretched out a black paw to halt her.

    If you go on like that, he warned, you’ll be exhausted before the patrol is half over. And if there are any cats trespassing on our territory, they’ll hear you coming way before we spot them.

    Sorry, Spiderleg, Amberpaw mewed, flattening her ears.

    I want to see how quietly you can walk, Spiderleg told her. Pretend you’re stalking a mouse.

    Bramblestar watched as the little ginger she-cat stalked forward, setting each paw down so lightly that she hardly disturbed the crumbled leaves.

    Not bad, Spiderleg commented. Keep it up.

    From Spiderleg, that was a considerable compliment, and Amberpaw puffed up her chest with pride.

    It was a good decision to put those two together, Bramblestar thought. In fact, all three apprentices are doing well. They were the first apprentices he had made as Clan leader, and he had hesitated a long time over the choice of mentors. Now Dewpaw was paired with Whitewing, her sister from an earlier litter by Cloudtail and Brightheart, while Snowpaw was mentored by Ivypool.

    They suffered so much hardship, so much grief as they were growing up, Bramblestar reflected. I want their apprenticeship moons to be peaceful, so they can be reassured that life in the Clan is not always lived on the brink of death.

    As the patrol reached the edge of the trees above the lake, Bramblestar spotted Leafpool under an elderly beech tree. She was nipping off stems of early-flowering coltsfoot, the yellow buds glowing like tiny suns. Noticing the patrol, she waved her tail in greeting.

    You look busy, Bramblestar commented as he padded up to her.

    That’s because I am. Leafpool gathered the coltsfoot stems into a neat bundle. Jayfeather wants these gathered before the sun burns off the dew.

    Hi, Leafpool! Millie bounded over to join them. I just wanted to tell you that Briarlight’s exercises are clearing her chest really well. I was so afraid she would never get over that bout of greencough.

    Bramblestar felt a pang of relief shiver through his pelt. Millie was understandably anxious about her daughter, Briarlight, who had lost the use of her hind legs when she was trapped under a falling tree. It was hard to believe that the injured she-cat had recovered from a bout of greencough that had killed Toadstep, Icecloud, and Hazeltail.

    Leafpool twitched her ears. It’s Jayfeather you ought to thank, Millie. He never stops figuring out different ways to help Briarlight. I’m collecting this coltsfoot for a new mixture of herbs to help her breathing, together with thyme and catmint.

    We still have catmint? Millie asked.

    Oh, yes, there’s new growth in the patch Jayfeather planted beside the old Twoleg den. I’m going to tend it as soon as I’ve taken these herbs back to camp.

    Leafpool picked up her bundle and bounded off through the trees. Bramblestar watched her go, more glad than he could express that she was ThunderClan’s medicine cat once more.

    Berrynose led the patrol to the WindClan border. They paused for a moment on the bank of the stream where it spilled into the lake, then headed uphill, keeping close to the water’s edge. Before they had gone more than a couple of fox-lengths, the sun crested the moor, bathing the tough grass in golden light. Bramblestar stopped to stretch his front legs, thankful for the warmth after so many cold moons.

    As the cats trekked upward, the breeze blowing from beyond the stream carried WindClan scent markers strongly toward them.

    Those smell fresh, Berrynose muttered, wrinkling his nose. Millie, Rosepetal, you’d better renew our markers as we go along. We don’t want WindClan to think we’re getting careless about boundaries.

    I want to set a scent marker! Amberpaw piped up. Can I, please?

    Can she? Spiderleg asked Berrynose. She’ll have to learn how sooner or later.

    I know how! Amberpaw scampered up to the edge of the stream. I watched— She broke off with a squeal as the grass beneath her paws gave way and she slid out of sight. A heartbeat later, they heard a loud splash.

    Amberpaw! Spiderleg yowled.

    Every cat rushed to the edge of the stream where the apprentice had disappeared. Bramblestar couldn’t remember whether the water was deep enough here to drown her.

    Spiderleg plunged down the side of the bank into the swift-flowing water. Leaning over the edge, Bramblestar saw the black warrior boosting Amberpaw onto a ledge just above the surface of the stream. She was coughing up water while the current dragged at her tail.

    It’s cold! she gasped.

    Serves you right for being so idiotic, Spiderleg meowed as he scrambled up behind her, though Bramblestar noticed that he touched his nose comfortingly to the young cat’s ear. Come on, climb onto my shoulders and Bramblestar will help you out.

    Before Amberpaw could move, Bramblestar spotted movement in the bushes at the other side of the stream, and a WindClan patrol emerged into the open, with Weaselfur in the lead.

    What’s going on? the WindClan warrior demanded. Why are you in our stream?

    "It’s not your stream, Spiderleg hissed, crouching lower on the ledge so that Amberpaw could reach his shoulders. We haven’t crossed the border."

    You’d better not, Weaselfur growled, his ginger fur starting to bristle. We all know what ThunderClan thinks about boundaries.

    Bramblestar reached down to sink his teeth into Amberpaw’s scruff while she teetered wildly on Spiderleg’s shoulders, and dragged her up to the safety of the bank. Before he had the chance to respond to Weaselfur, Rosepetal flashed past him, leaping the stream to stand nose to nose with the WindClan warrior.

    How dare you! she exclaimed. Name one time ThunderClan invaded your territory.

    Weaselfur unsheathed his claws. His Clanmates Leaftail and Nightcloud sprang forward, hissing with fury, and trapped Rosepetal between them. Nightpelt lashed out, clawing at Rosepetal’s ear.

    Two soft-furred WindClan apprentices looked on with wide eyes, bouncing on their paws as if they were waiting for the signal to join in.

    Invading our territory? How about now? Nightcloud mewed pointedly. She flicked her tail. Get back on your own side of the stream.

    She’s right, Bramblestar meowed, moving to the very edge of the bank. This wasn’t a battle they needed to fight. Rosepetal, get back here now.

    Rosepetal jumped back across the stream, hanging her head as she halted in front of Bramblestar. Blood was trickling from a scratch on her ear. Sorry, she muttered. I lost my temper. But they started it.

    Never mind who started it, Bramblestar meowed. Sorry, he called to Weaselfur and the rest of the WindClan cats. Our apprentice fell into the stream. Spiderleg was just helping her out.

    Weaselfur sniffed. Then she should watch where she’s putting her paws.

    Bramblestar understood why the WindClan cats were so touchy. We may have united to fight against the Dark Forest . . . but we’re four Clans, not one, and borders need to be respected once more.

    To his relief, Weaselfur relaxed and waved his tail for the rest of his patrol to take a step back. Make sure it doesn’t happen again, he growled. And don’t think you can jump across here any time you feel like it.

    She said sorry! Berrynose spat at him.

    How’s the prey running in WindClan? Bramblestar asked with a glare at Berrynose, while Spiderleg clambered out of the stream and shook himself, spattering his Clanmates with icy drops.

    Fine, Weaselfur replied coolly. More rabbits than we can count. What about ThunderClan?

    Oh, prey is coming back now the cold weather is over, Bramblestar told him, sounding more optimistic than he felt. We’re looking forward to the warm seasons. And how is Onestar? he added. And Sedgewhisker? I haven’t seen her at a Gathering for a couple of moons.

    Onestar is fine, Leaftail responded. And Sedgewhisker is expecting Emberfoot’s kits. She’ll be in the nursery for a while yet.

    Congratulations, Bramblestar mewed, meaning it. Well, we’d better be getting along.

    He turned to the rest of the patrol. Millie was helping Amberpaw to groom her wet fur, while Berrynose stood close to Rosepetal, licking her scratched ear. At Bramblestar’s signal he stopped and headed upstream again.

    Good-bye! Bramblestar called to the WindClan patrol.

    You lot should try going for a swim! Amberpaw added cheekily over her shoulder. You need cooling down!

    Spiderleg instantly bounded to her side and gave her a cuff over the ear, his claws sheathed. Mouse-brain! he muttered. That was a lucky escape back there.

    Once the patrol had left the WindClan cats behind, Berrynose dropped back to pad along beside Bramblestar. Rosepetal seems okay, he mewed. I was worried the WindClan cats might have hurt her.

    Bramblestar gave Berrynose a puzzled look. Have I missed something? he wondered. Berrynose is still Poppyfrost’s mate, right?

    We’ve lost so many she-cats, Berrynose went on. Hollyleaf, Sorreltail, and Ferncloud in the Great Battle, and Icecloud and Hazeltail from greencough. Now it’s newleaf, and none of the survivors are expecting kits.

    Bramblestar realized this was true. He felt guilty that he hadn’t thought about this himself, and he was struck by how serious Berrynose sounded. Maybe he’s growing up at last, he thought. He used to be a real pain in the tail. . . .

    We need to think about replacing the fallen warriors, Berrynose pointed out. If we don’t, we’ll be weaker than the other Clans. We’ve just heard that kits are due in WindClan. We need to heal from the wounds of the Great Battle and make ourselves strong again, but how can we do that if we have fewer cats than the other Clans?

    CHAPTER 2

    Bramblestar pushed his way through the thorn barrier into the camp with the rest of the patrol behind him. The sun shone down into the hollow, casting long shadows across the ground. Above the cliffs, the trees rustled gently and a warm breeze stirred the dust on the ground.

    Bramblestar could still see traces of the terrible conflict when the warriors of the Dark Forest had poured into the camp: fresh bramble tendrils entwined with the old in the walls of the nursery, and broken branches on the hazel bush that screened the elders’ den. It was too easy to close his eyes and be plunged back into the storm of fighting and blood, with cats both dead and alive attacking from all sides. The Dark Forest cats had flung themselves into battle in a furious quest for power and vengeance, and it had taken all the strength of the living cats—and the strength of StarClan—to beat them back. Bramblestar gave his pelt a shake, trying to recall his earlier optimism. At least the dens were repaired, and the surviving cats had recovered from their wounds.

    But the scars we can’t see will be harder to heal.

    When the battle was over, Jayfeather had propped a bark-stripped branch against the cliff below the Highledge. He had scored claw marks across it, one for each life taken by the Dark Forest.

    It will remind us of the debts that we owe to our former Clanmates, he had explained.

    Now Whitewing was standing in front of the branch with her apprentice, Dewpaw, beside her. Seedpaw and Lilypaw stood watching with their mentors, Bumblestripe and Poppyfrost.

    Can you remember all the names? Whitewing asked her apprentice.

    Dewpaw narrowed his eyes in concentration. I think so. This one is for Mousefur. . . . he began, touching the first claw mark. She was an elder, but she fought so bravely! And this one is for Hollyleaf. She had been away for a while, but she came back in time to help us when the Dark Forest attacked. And this is for Foxleap, who died of his wounds afterward. . . .

    Bramblestar nodded as Dewpaw went on reciting the names. He had decided that all the apprentices had to learn the list as part of their training, so that their lost Clanmates would be remembered for season after season, as long as ThunderClan survived.

    This one is for Ferncloud, Dewpaw continued. She was killed by Brokenstar when she was defending the kits in the nursery. And this is Sorreltail. She hid her wounds because she wanted to take care of the kits, but she died just when we thought we had won. She was the bravest of all.

    And the big mark right at the top? Whitewing prompted. Do you know who that stands for?

    That’s our leader, Firestar, Dewpaw replied. He was the best cat in the whole forest, and he gave up his last life to save us!

    Bramblestar felt a familiar stab of grief. I wonder if he’s watching us now? I hope he approves of what I have done.

    I miss Firestar, too.

    Bramblestar turned to see that Jayfeather had appeared at his side, the medicine cat’s blue eyes fixed on him so intensely that it was hard to believe he was blind. I didn’t think you could tell what’s in my mind anymore, Bramblestar mewed, surprised.

    No, those days are past, Jayfeather admitted, sounding a little wistful. But it wasn’t hard to figure out that you were thinking of Firestar. I heard Dewpaw run his paw over Firestar’s mark and say his name, and then you sighed. He pressed himself briefly against Bramblestar’s side. I’m sure Firestar watches over us.

    Has he walked in your dreams yet? Bramblestar asked.

    Jayfeather shook his head. No, but that’s a good omen in itself. I’ve had enough warnings from StarClan to last me nine lifetimes. With a brisk nod to Bramblestar, he padded away to join Leafpool, who was sorting coltsfoot flowers and fresh-picked catmint outside their den.

    Come on, Snowpaw, Ivypool called to her apprentice. Time for battle training!

    Can we go too? Dewpaw begged, as his sister scampered over to join her mentor.

    Sure we can, Whitewing meowed.

    And me! Amberpaw raced across the camp and skidded to a halt beside her littermates.

    No, not you! Spiderleg called from where he stood beside the fresh-kill pile with Cloudtail and Cherryfall. You did the dawn patrol this morning. You need to rest.

    Amberpaw’s tail drooped. But they’ll be learning stuff when I’m not there! she wailed. I’ll get behind, and then I’ll never be a warrior!

    Spiderleg padded over to her and gave her ear a friendly flick with his tail. Of course you’ll be a warrior, mouse-brain! Once you’ve rested, I’ll show you the move they’re going to learn, I promise.

    Okay. Amberpaw still cast a regretful look after her littermates and their mentors as they left the hollow.

    What about us? Lilypaw asked, exchanging a disappointed glance with Seedpaw. Why can’t we do battle training?

    Because we’re going hunting, Poppyfrost replied briskly. Come on! Bumblestripe knows the best place to find mice.

    Great! Seedpaw exclaimed with an excited little bounce. Lilypaw, I bet I catch more mice than you.

    "I’m going to catch enough for the whole Clan!" her sister retorted.

    It’s not fair, Amberpaw muttered as she watched them go. Why don’t I get to do anything?

    I told you, Spiderleg responded. You did the dawn patrol. Now you rest. But before you do, he went on, you can fetch some clean moss for Purdy’s den.

    Amberpaw brightened up. Sure! And maybe he’ll tell me a story! She darted off and thrust her way into the barrier.

    I wonder if I ever had that much energy? Bramblestar mewed aloud as he watched the young cat disappear.

    Sandstorm popped her head out of the nearby nursery. You still do! she told him. She emerged into the open, pushing a ball of moss in front of her. It’s good to see the little ones being so lively. It gives me new hope for our Clan. She paused, her gaze clouding, and Bramblestar wondered if she was thinking about her former mate, Firestar, who wasn’t here to watch this group of apprentices grow up. Then she lifted her head again. Daisy and I are clearing out the nursery, she announced, giving the ball of moss a prod with one paw. There might not be any kits now, but surely some of our young she-cats will be expecting soon.

    I hope so, Bramblestar replied, remembering his earlier conversation with Berrynose. I really hope so. Surely there are other cats who could help Daisy? he went on, thinking that Sandstorm didn’t need to be struggling with bedding, covered in dust and scraps of moss.

    Amusement sparked in Sandstorm’s green eyes. Are you trying to pack me off to the elders’ den? she teased.

    You’ve served your Clanmates long enough, Bramblestar responded. Why not let them take care of you now?

    Sandstorm flicked her whiskers dismissively. I’ve plenty of life in my paws yet, she insisted, retreating into the nursery to help Daisy wrestle with a huge clump of brittle, musty moss.

    Bramblestar watched the she-cats for a moment longer before turning away. His deputy, Squirrelflight, stood near the elders’ den, sorting out the hunting patrols with Graystripe; like Sandstorm, the former deputy was one of the oldest cats in the Clan now.

    We need the hunting patrols to go out early, Graystripe was explaining to Squirrelflight. With the days getting hotter, it’s best to avoid sunhigh for chasing around.

    Squirrelflight nodded. And the prey will be holed up by then, too. I’ve already sent out one patrol, she went on, but I’ll send out another. Brightheart would be a good cat to lead it. She glanced around. Hey, Brightheart!

    The ginger-and-white she-cat slid out between the branches that sheltered the warriors’ den. Yes?

    I want you to lead a hunting patrol, Squirrelflight told her. But stick to one area, and come back before it gets too hot.

    Brightheart dipped her head. Any particular place? she asked.

    You could try up by the ShadowClan border, Squirrelflight suggested. Millie spotted a nest of squirrels there yesterday.

    Good idea, Brightheart mewed. Which cats should I take with me?

    Millie, obviously, since she knows where the nest is. Apart from her, any cat you like.

    I’m on my way. Brightheart bounded off to call Millie from the warriors’ den. Then she rounded up Dovewing and Mousewhisker and headed out through the thorns.

    The barrier was still trembling from their departure when Amberpaw reappeared with a huge bundle of moss in her jaws. As she staggered toward the elders’ den, Bramblestar noticed that the moss was dripping with water, leaving a line of dark spots on the dusty floor of the clearing.

    Squirrelflight stepped out to intercept the apprentice as she drew closer to the den. You can’t take that in there, she told Amberpaw sharply. That moss is too wet. It’ll soak all the other bedding and Purdy will claw your ears off for making his legs ache from the damp.

    At the mention of his name Purdy ducked out of the shelter of the hazel bush. There’s nothin’ wrong with my legs, or my ears, he snorted.

    How about your pelt? Amberpaw asked, dropping the moss.

    Bramblestar stifled a mrrow of amusement: Purdy’s tabby pelt looked as if he had crawled backward through the thorns, the fur clumped and sticking up as if he hadn’t groomed himself for a moon.

    Eh? Speak up! Purdy complained. Why are you mumblin’? Young cats these days always mumble, he added crossly.

    I was explaining to Amberpaw that she can’t bring wet moss into your den, Squirrelflight meowed.

    What? Purdy prodded the bundle of moss. You’re sure you weren’t tryin’ to bring me a drink instead? he asked Amberpaw.

    The apprentice looked crestfallen. I was only trying to help.

    Sure you were, young ’un. Purdy stroked Amberpaw’s side with his tail. Come on. You an’ I will spread the moss out here, just outside the den, an’ it’ll soon dry in the sun. An’ while it does that, I’ll tell you how I once killed a whole nest o’ rats.

    Yes! Amberpaw bounced in delight and began spreading out the wet moss.

    On the other side of the clearing, Sandstorm headed out of the camp, pushing a huge bundle of used bedding in front of her. Bramblestar slid into the nursery and began helping Daisy scratch together the next bundle.

    Have you heard anything about new kits? he asked hopefully.

    Daisy shook her head. No, but I’m sure we’ll need the nursery soon, now that newleaf is here. She paused, then added, Come and look.

    She led Bramblestar out of the nursery and pointed with her tail to where Lionblaze and Cinderheart were sharing tongues in a patch of sunlight. That one will be expecting soon, Daisy mewed, twitching her ears at Cinderheart.

    Bramblestar felt a flash of excitement. He remembered play fighting with Lionblaze as a kit outside the nursery, and how he had taught Lionblaze his first pounce. In spite of all that’s happened, I couldn’t have loved those three kits more if I’d been their real father.

    Lionblaze looked up and noticed Bramblestar watching him. With a quick word to Cinderheart he got up and limped across the camp to join his leader.

    Did you want me? he asked.

    No, but since you’re here, you can tell me how things are going. It looks as if we might have some new kits soon, Bramblestar meowed with an affectionate nudge.

    Great StarClan! Lionblaze gave his chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks. No pressure, then?

    Are you sure you’re okay? Bramblestar went on more anxiously, spotting a scratch on Lionblaze’s shoulder. He’s limping on that forepaw, too.

    Lionblaze sighed. Yes, I’m fine. Leafpool and Jayfeather checked me out, and gave me a dock leaf for the sore pad. It’s just hard to get used to the way I can be hurt now. All I did was trip over a stupid bramble!

    Too bad, Bramblestar mewed. You’ll have to start watching where you tread!

    That will make me very fearsome to our enemies. Not, Lionblaze muttered. He limped back to his mate and settled down beside her.

    Movement at the entrance caught Bramblestar’s eye as the first hunting patrol returned. Dustpelt was leading it; he carried a squirrel in his jaws. Behind him came Brackenfur, Blossomfall, and Poppyfrost, all laden with prey.

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