Behind him, Daisy, the cat from the horseplace, picked her way through the thorns with her three kits scrambling after her. They stared with huge eyes at the devastated dens and the weary, wounded cats. Spotting Midnight standing in the shadows, Berrykit drew back his lips in a snarl. He took a pace forward, his legs stiff and his fur bristling.
With a squeak of alarm, Daisy rushed to his side. “Berrykit! What are you doing? Come away before the badger hurts you.”
“Nothing to fear, small one,” Midnight rumbled gently.
Daisy just glared at her, sweeping her tail around Berrykit and drawing him away towards the other cats. Brambleclaw realised she had no idea who Midnight was.
“It’s all right!” he called.
Leafpool reached the horseplace cat before him. “Don’t worry, Daisy,” she meowed. “Midnight’s a friend. Crow feather and I met her when we were up in the hills. She warned us that her kin were going to attack, and she brought WindClan to help us.”
“But she’s a badger!” Daisy exclaimed.
Brambleclaw padded over to help Leafpool explain. “We met Midnight on our journey to the sun-drown-place. She wouldn’t harm us.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Berrykit assured his mother. “I’ll look after you.”
“I bet you would, too.” Cloudtail limped up and gently flicked Berrykit’s ear with the tip of his tail. “It takes enough courage for a full-grown cat to face up to a badger. You’ll make a great warrior one day.”
Berrykit’s tail went straight up with pride. “Race you to the nursery!” he yowled to his littermates.
“No—wait!” Cloudtail called after the three kits. “You can’t go in there yet.”
“Why not?” Daisy asked, puzzled. “My kits need to rest.”
“Cinderpelt’s body is in there,” Leafpool mewed quietly. “A badger broke in while she was helping Sorreltail give birth.” Her voice quavered and she swallowed hard. “I tried to save her, but she was already on her way to StarClan.”
Brambleclaw stared at her in disbelief.
Cinderpelt was dead?
Brambleclaw felt as if every drop of his blood had turned to ice. It was bad enough that any warrior should have gone to join StarClan tonight, but losing the Clan’s medicine cat was a cruel blow. He suddenly realised why Leafpool had asked Brightheart to help her treat the injured warriors.
Mousefur let out a shocked yowl. “She was only a young cat! She had her whole life ahead of her.”
Squirrelflight padded up and brushed her muzzle against Leafpool’s shoulder. “We won’t forget her,” she murmured.
Brambleclaw nodded, too shocked to speak. Leafpool stood with head bowed for a heartbeat, then nudged Thornclaw to his paws. “Come to my den.” Her voice sounded thin, as if she was keeping it tightly under control. “I have more cobwebs there.” She padded away, glancing back just once to be sure Thornclaw was following.
Movement in the darkness at the edge of the hollow caught Brambleclaw’s eye, and he turned to see Spiderleg and Whitepaw heading slowly towards them. Spiderleg beckoned with his tail; Brambleclaw had to force his numbed legs into action.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Come and see.” Spiderleg led the way to the wall of the hollow, near the escape route where Daisy and her kits had climbed to safety. A limp bundle of grey-black fur lay in the shadows.
“It’s Sootfur,” Whitepaw whispered. “I think he’s dead.”
Brambleclaw’s belly twisted. Even though he was afraid that Whitepaw was right, he nosed the young warrior’s body in the faint hope of rousing him. Sootfur didn’t move, and his glazed eyes stared at nothing.
“May StarClan light his path,” Brambleclaw murmured. Sootfur’s sister, Sorreltail, had only just given birth; how would she cope with the loss of her brother?
Both the younger cats were staring at Brambleclaw as if they were waiting for him to tell them what to do. With a massive effort he forced himself to think.
“Carry him into the centre of the camp, so we can have a vigil,” he meowed. “I’ll go and look for Rainwhisker.” Sootfur’s brother would have to be told; perhaps he could help their sister, Sorreltail.
Brambleclaw waited until Spiderleg and Whitepaw had lifted Sootfur’s body, then began to search. He couldn’t remember seeing Rainwhisker since the end of the battle. Anxiety sank sharp claws into him; surely Rainwhisker couldn’t be dead too?
Then he spotted the grey warrior half buried under the torn-up thorn branches that had once sheltered the warriors’ den. He lay without moving, but as Brambleclaw dragged a branch off him he managed to lift his head.
“The badgers—have they gone?” he asked hoarsely.
“It’s all over,” Brambleclaw replied. “But I’m afraid there’s sad news. Can you get up?”
With a grunt, Rainwhisker brought his paws under him and scrabbled at the prickly twigs until he had hauled himself upright. He balanced precariously on three legs; the fourth hung at an awkward angle, and Brambleclaw was afraid it had been broken. Giving Rainwhisker his shoulder for support, he guided him towards the centre of the camp where Sootfur now lay. Firestar, Squirrelflight, and several other cats stood around him, their heads bowed.
Rainwhisker let out a yowl of dismay at the sight of his brother’s body. Limping forward, he bent his head to thrust his nose into the grey-black fur. He stayed still for a few heartbeats, then looked up, his eyes filled with grief.
“I should tell Sorreltail,” he meowed.
Firestar twitched his tail to stop him. “Your leg needs to be seen to first. Some other cat—”
“No,” Rainwhisker interrupted stubbornly. “Let me do it. Sootfur was our brother. She will want to hear this from me.”
The Clan leader hesitated, then nodded. “OK, but go to see Cinderpelt as soon as you can.”
“Firestar, you mean Leafpool,” Sandstorm gently corrected him.
Firestar blinked, stupefied by shock and exhaustion. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I still can’t believe Cinderpelt’s dead.”
Brambleclaw gazed at him sympathetically. The Thunder Clan leader had been very close to Cinderpelt. He was sure to be badly shaken by her death.
He’s going to need my help. Brambleclaw braced himself. Touching Squirrelflight on her shoulder with his tail, he murmured, “Let’s go and bring Cinderpelt’s body into the clearing.”
“Right,” Squirrelflight mewed. “Rainwhisker, come with us if you want to speak to Sorreltail.”
The three cats made their way to the nursery. The bramble thicket, growing close to the wall of the hollow, was the least damaged part of the camp. Squirrelflight, Ashfur, and Brackenfur had stayed there throughout the battle, defending the entrance while Sorreltail’s kits were born. Only part of it had been trampled down where the badger that killed Cinderpelt had swatted Brackenfur aside to break in.
Daisy and her kits were standing outside the entrance. Cloudtail