The Silent Thaw

Scorchfur padded to the foot of the oak and looked up at Bramblestar. “Dovewing left ShadowClan to atone, but Tigerstar brought her back before she finished.” His gaze flicked accusingly to his leader. “Hasn’t ShadowClan suffered enough?” he asked Tigerstar.

Tigerstar puffed out his fur. “I couldn’t let Dovewing risk her safety.”

“Instead you risk the safety of the whole Clan!” Scorchfur held his gaze.

Bramblestar jerked his muzzle toward Tigerstar. “Is this true? Did you prevent a codebreaker from atoning?”

Tigerstar’s ears twitched. “I

am leader of ShadowClan. I say what happens there.”

Bramblestar didn’t move. “Are you going against the laws of StarClan?”

“That is for StarClan to decide.” Tigerstar’s tail flicked ominously. “Not you.”

Bramblestar turned his gaze back to the gathered cats. “The only way to bring StarClan back is to stand together. Codebreakers must atone no matter what Clan they’re from.” He glanced scornfully at Dovewing. “Squirrelflight has atoned—why not Dovewing?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Any leader who can’t enforce the law of StarClan has no right to be a leader.”

Around the clearing, warriors glanced at one another uneasily. Then Berrynose raised his muzzle. “StarClan won’t come back if the law isn’t enforced.”

“Leaders must lead!” Yarrowleaf yowled at Tigerstar.

“They owe it to their Clan!” Harrybrook mewed loudly.

As murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, Bramblestar swung his gaze back to Tigerstar. “If you can’t lead ShadowClan, perhaps Cloverfoot should take your place.”

Rootpaw’s pelt bristled as he looked at Cloverfoot. She knew Bramblestar was an impostor. Surely she wouldn’t agree to his demand! The ShadowClan deputy shifted nervously, then padded forward. “I stand by Tigerstar,” she meowed slowly. “I would never take his place. And I won’t let another Clan tell us what to do.” Her hackles lifted as she met Bramblestar’s gaze.

Bramblestar snorted and looked back to the crowd. “ShadowClan’s warriors shouldn’t suffer while their codebreakers go unpunished.” His gaze fixed on Scorchfur. “If neither ShadowClan’s leader nor its deputy is ready to follow StarClan’s laws, perhaps we should find them new leadership.”

Scorchfur’s ears twitched nervously. He backed away into the crowd, but around him a soft murmuring echoed Bramblestar’s suggestion.

“We need leaders who will make StarClan come back.” Emberfoot’s mew sounded from the WindClan cats.

Panic began to spark in Rootpaw’s chest. This wasn’t how the Gathering was meant to go. Bramblestar was supposed to be revealed as an impostor so the Clans could unite against him. Instead the Clans seemed to be supporting him more than ever. To call him an impostor now might start a battle. Rootpaw blinked at Bristlefrost desperately. She returned his gaze, her eyes round with alarm. He turned to Frecklewish. Perhaps a medicine cat could speak out. But she only stared grimly ahead as though trying to hide what she felt. Was no cat going to speak? Even the ghost seemed to have given up. It still crouched in the shadows, its translucent pelt so pale that it seemed hardly more than a dab of moonlight. I have to do something! Pelt bristling, Rootpaw lifted his chin. “Would our ancestors approve of one Clan turning on another?”

His voice sounded no more than a whisper, but the crowd seemed to grow still around him.

“What was that?” Jayfeather turned toward Rootpaw. “Speak up, apprentice! Don’t make me think I’m deaf as well as blind.”

As the gazes of the Clans turned toward him, Rootpaw’s pelt burned. He forced himself to speak. He looked at the ghost. I’m saying this for you!

“Even when the spirits of dead cats can’t speak to those they love . . .” He willed the ghost to get to its paws. “They can still see us.” If Bramblestar’s spirit was defeated, what hope was there for the cats who wanted to stand up to the impostor? “They surround us all the time. How would they feel if they saw us turn on one another in their name?”

He felt Bramblestar’s gaze sear his pelt and met it, sticking out his chest. He searched it, wondering who was behind those burning eyes. If it wasn’t the real Bramblestar staring at him, who was it?

“You’re Tree’s kit, aren’t you?” Bramblestar’s snarl was as sharp as a fox’s.

Rootpaw forced himself not to flinch. “Yes, I am.”

“Your father thinks the forest is full of dead cats, but a true warrior knows that dead cats go to StarClan. No spirits surround us.” Suspicion flared in his gaze. “Why are you arguing against enforcing the warrior code? Are you a codebreaker too?”

Rootpaw felt Tree stiffen beside him. “My kit is no codebreaker,” he snapped. “A dead cat can walk where it likes. Just because you’re a Clan leader doesn’t give you the power to decide where they put their paws. I saw my father in the forest after he died, and my mate’s mother returned to speak to her kits.” He glanced across the heads of his Clanmates to where Twigbranch stood. “Isn’t that right?”