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was safe. Bluestar’s message came back to echo in his mind. Could it be true that some great trouble was coming upon the forest? Brambleclaw felt his fur prickle with foreboding. He decided that he would not tell any cat about the dream. That seemed like the only way he could convince himself that it meant nothing, and there was no new prophecy coming to disrupt life in the forest as they knew it.
The sun was setting in a ball of fire, turning the tops of the trees to flame and sending long shadows across the clearing. Brambleclaw stretched and sighed with satisfaction. He was tired after the long day’s hunting, but his stomach was comfortably full. All the Clan had fed too, and there was an ample pile of fresh-kill. Greenleaf had been longer and hotter than any cat could remember, but the forest was still full of prey, and there was plenty of water in the stream close to Fourtrees.
A good day, Brambleclaw thought contentedly. This is how life should be.
The rest of the Clan was beginning to slip out into the clearing and gather around the Highrock, and Brambleclaw realised it was time for Sorrelpaw’s warrior ceremony. He padded closer to the Highrock and sat down close to Ferncloud’s brother, Ashfur, who gave him a friendly nod. Greystripe was already sitting at the base of the rock, looking as proud as if his own apprentice were about to be made a warrior. Greystripe had fathered two kits, but they had grown up in RiverClan, where their mother had been born. He had no kits in ThunderClan, but liked to keep an eye on the progress of all the young cats.
As Brambleclaw watched, the deputy was joined by Cinderpelt, the medicine cat, and her apprentice, Leafpaw, Squirrelpaw’s sister. She looked nothing like Squirrelpaw; she was smaller and slighter, with pale tabby fur and a white chest and paws. The sisters were not much alike in character either. When Leafpaw sat down and tipped her head to one side to listen to what her mentor and the deputy were saying to each other, Brambleclaw wondered, not for the first time, how she managed to be so quiet and attentive when her sister Squirrelpaw never stopped talking.
At last Firestar, the Clan leader, appeared from his den at the other side of the Highrock. He was a strong, lithe warrior, his pelt blazing like flame in the light of the setting sun. After pausing for a word with Greystripe, he bunched his muscles and leaped to the top of the Highrock, from where he could look down on the Clan.
“Cats of ThunderClan!” he announced. “Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting.”
Most of the cats were there already, but as Firestar’s voice echoed around the clearing the last of the Clan members slid out from their dens and trotted over to join the others.
Last of all came Sorrelpaw with her mentor, Sandstorm. Her tortoiseshell fur was freshly groomed, her white chest and paws shining like snow. Her amber eyes gleamed with pride and suppressed excitement as she paced across the clearing. Beside her, Sandstorm looked just as proud; Brambleclaw knew how much the ginger she-cat had suffered when she had seen her apprentice lying injured on the Thunderpath. They had both needed courage and perseverance to reach this ceremony.
Firestar sprang down from the Highrock to meet the apprentice and her mentor. “Sandstorm,” he began, using the formal words that had been handed down through all the Clans, “are you satisfied that this apprentice is ready to become a warrior of ThunderClan?”
Sandstorm inclined her head. “She will be a warrior the Clan can be proud of,” she replied.
Firestar raised his eyes to where the first stars of Silverpelt were beginning to appear in the evening sky. “I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice.” The Clan was hushed as his voice rang out across the clearing. “She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.” He turned to Sorrelpaw, locking his gaze with hers. “Sorrelpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
Remembering how he had felt at this moment in his own warrior ceremony, Brambleclaw watched Sorrelpaw’s whole body quiver with anticipation as she lifted her chin and replied clearly, “I do.”
“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Sorrelpaw, from this moment you will be known as Sorreltail. StarClan honours your courage and your patience, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”
Stepping forwards, Firestar rested his muzzle on top of Sorreltail’s head. In return she gave his shoulder a respectful lick before backing away.
The rest of the warriors gathered around her, welcoming her and calling her by her new name. “Sorreltail! Sorreltail!” Her brothers, Sootfur and Rainwhisker, were among the first, their eyes gleaming with pride that their sister had finally joined them as a warrior.
Firestar waited until the noise had died down. “Sorreltail, according to tradition you must keep vigil in silence tonight, and watch over the camp.”
“While the rest of us get a good night’s sleep,” Cloudtail added.
The Clan leader flashed him a warning glance but said nothing as the cats parted to let Sorreltail take up her position in the middle of the clearing. She sat with her tail curled around her paws and her gaze fixed on the darkening sky, where the light of Silverpelt grew steadily stronger.
With the ceremony over, the rest of the cats slipped away into the shadows. Brambleclaw stretched and yawned, looking forward to his comfortable nest in the warriors’ den, but content to stay in the clearing for a while to enjoy the warm evening. He could not see any signs that other cats had shared his disturbing dream; and yet Bluestar had suggested that three other cats would be involved in the new prophecy. Brambleclaw felt a purr rising into his throat, half-amused by how quickly he had believed that a cat from StarClan had visited him in his dreams. That would teach him to gulp down fresh-kill just before he went to sleep.
“Brambleclaw.” Firestar padded over and settled down beside him. “Cloudtail says you hunted well today.”
“Thank you, Firestar.”
The leader’s gaze was fixed on his daughters, Leafpaw and Squirrelpaw, who were heading towards the pile of fresh-kill.
“Do you miss Tawnypelt?” Firestar meowed unexpectedly.
Brambleclaw blinked in surprise. Tawnypelt was his sister; the former ThunderClan deputy, Tigerstar, had fathered them before he had been banished from the Clan for trying to seize power from Bluestar, who was leader then. Later Tigerstar had made himself leader of ShadowClan, only to be killed by a rogue cat in a failed attempt to extend his power over the whole forest. Tawnypelt had always felt that ThunderClan blamed her for her father’s crimes, and she had made the decision to join ShadowClan shortly after he became that Clan’s leader.
“Yes,” Brambleclaw replied. “Yes, Firestar, I miss her every day.”
“I didn’t understand how you might feel about her. Not until I saw how close those two are.” Firestar nodded towards the two sister apprentices, who were choosing prey from the pile.
“Firestar, you’re not being fair to yourself,” Brambleclaw insisted uncomfortably. “After all, you miss your sister, don’t you?” he dared to add.
Firestar had begun life as a kittypet before he joined ThunderClan, and his sister, Princess, still lived with Twolegs. Firestar visited her from time to time, and Brambleclaw knew very well how important they were to each other. Princess had given Firestar her firstborn kit to raise as a warrior—and that was Cloudtail, Brightheart’s loyal friend.
The Clan leader tilted his head to one side, thinking. “Of course I miss Princess,” he meowed at last. “But she’s a kittypet. She could never live this kind of life. You must wish that Tawnypelt had stayed here in ThunderClan.”
“I guess I do,” Brambleclaw admitted. “But she’s happier where she is.”
“That’s true.” Firestar nodded. “The most important thing is that you’ve both found a Clan where you can be loyal.”
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