SUNSET. Erin Hunter

StarClan promised.”

      Brambleclaw looked around the devastated camp, the stricken cats stumbling through the remains of their home. “Yes, we found it,” he murmured.

      “You said badgers attacked you?” Brook prompted, sounding puzzled.

      “They came here on purpose,” Brambleclaw explained. “StarClan knows where they came from, more badgers than I’ve ever seen in my life. They would have killed us all if WindClan hadn’t turned up.” His paws trembled, and he sank his claws into the bloodstained earth to keep himself steady.

      Stormfur nodded. “Don’t worry about telling us everything now. What can we do to help?”

      Brambleclaw sent a silent prayer of thanks to StarClan that they had chosen this moment to send his old friend back to the Clans. He and Stormfur had been through a lot together on the first journey to the sun-drown-place, and he could think of few cats he’d rather have beside him now.

      He turned his head as a thin wail came from a trampled clump of ferns at the edge of the hollow. “We need to find all the cats that have been badly wounded. Some will be on their way to join StarClan,” he warned, glancing at Brook. “The badgers came to kill, not drive us out.”

      Brook met his gaze steadily. “Whatever they have done, I want to help. I have seen this kind of savagery before from Sharptooth, remember?” Sharptooth was a giant mountain cat that had terrorised the Tribe of Rushing Water for many moons, until the cats from the forest arrived. Stormfur’s sister, Feathertail, had died in the fall that killed the savage animal.

      “We’ll do whatever we have to,” Stormfur promised. “Just tell us what to do. Are you ThunderClan’s deputy now?”

      Brambleclaw studied a fragment of moss that was trapped under his front paw. “No,” he admitted. “Firestar has decided not to appoint another deputy. He wants to give Greystripe more time to come back.”

      “That’s tough.” There was a note of sympathy in Stormfur’s voice that made Brambleclaw wince. He didn’t want any cat’s pity.

      Suddenly Brook froze. “I thought you said the badgers had gone,” she hissed.

      Brambleclaw whipped around, then relaxed as he saw a familiar, pointed, black-and-white face pushing its way out of a clump of dead bracken.

      Stormfur touched Brook’s shoulder lightly with his tail. “That’s Midnight,” he meowed. “She wouldn’t hurt any cat .” He bounded forward to meet the elderly badger.

      Midnight peered at Stormfur with short-sighted eyes. Then she gave a small nod. “Cat friend from journey,” she rumbled. “Good it is to see you again. And this cat from mountain Tribe, is she not?” she added, gesturing with her snout towards Brook.

      “That’s right,” Stormfur meowed. “This is Brook, a prey-hunter from the Tribe of Rushing Water.” He beckoned Brook forward with his tail; she went over reluctantly, as if she couldn’t quite believe this badger was friendly. Brambleclaw understood her feelings; he knew Midnight as well as any cat, but it was hard not to look at her bulky shape without remembering snapping jaws, fierce gleaming eyes, and claws that shredded cats’ fur like leaves in newleaf . . .

      There was the sound of heavy paws, and he looked up to see Midnight standing beside him. Grief and anger sparked from her berry-bright eyes. “Too late my warning,” she rasped. “Not enough could I do.”

      “You brought WindClan to help us,” Brambleclaw pointed out. “Without you, our whole Clan would have been wiped out.”

      Midnight bowed her head, the white stripe that ran the length of her snout gleaming in the faint moonlight. “Shame for my kin I feel.”

      “Every cat knows this attack had nothing to do with you,” Brambleclaw told her. “You will always be welcome in this Clan.”

      Midnight still looked troubled. Behind her, Brambleclaw spotted his Clan leader near the centre of the clearing, with Onestar and the WindClan warriors. He padded towards them, motioning with his tail for Stormfur and Brook to follow. A fox-length away, in the shelter of an upturned thorn-bush, Leafpool was bending over the limp body of Ashfur. For a heartbeat Brambleclaw wondered if the grey warrior was dead, until he saw Ashfur’s tail twitch. StarClan shall not take all our warriors tonight, he thought determinedly.

      Firestar’s chest still heaved from the effort of fighting. His flame-coloured pelt was torn, and blood was oozing from a long scratch along his flank. Brambleclaw felt a flash of concern. Had his leader lost another life? Whether he had or not, he was badly hurt. I will help him until my last breath, Brambleclaw vowed. Together, we can bring the Clan through this until we are even stronger than before.

      In spite of his injuries, Firestar’s eyes were bright and he sat up straight as he faced the WindClan leader, Onestar. “The thanks of all ThunderClan go with you,” he meowed.

      “I doubt you’ll have any more trouble with the badgers,” Onestar replied. “But I can leave a couple of warriors behind to keep watch, if you like.”

      “No thanks, I don’t think we’ll need them.” The warmth in Firestar’s eyes revealed the long friendship between these two cats. Brambleclaw silently thanked StarClan that the tension between them, which everyone had felt since Onestar became WindClan leader, seemed to be over at last. “Do your warriors need the help of our medicine cat before you go?” the ThunderClan leader added. “If any of them are badly injured, they’re welcome to stay here.”

      Brambleclaw glanced across at Leafpool, who was still crouched beside Ashfur. When she heard Firestar, she raised her head and stared across the clearing at the WindClan warriors. Brambleclaw felt a stab of sympathy as her gaze sought out one in particular. Two days ago, Crowfeather and Leafpool had abandoned their Clans so that they could be together, but news of the badger attack had brought them home again. Brambleclaw hoped that Leafpool had come home for good; ThunderClan needed her more than ever now that so many cats had been wounded in the badger attack.

      Crowfeather was staring down at his paws as if he was deliberately avoiding Leafpool’s gaze. Fur was missing from a broad scratch on his flank, but the wound had stopped bleeding and he stood with his weight on all four paws. Webfoot had a torn ear, and the WindClan deputy Ashfoot was bleeding from one shoulder, but none of the wounds looked serious enough to stop the warriors from returning to the WindClan camp.

      “I think we’re all fit to travel, thank StarClan,” Onestar answered the ThunderClan leader. “If you’re sure you don’t need our help any more, we’ll return to our own territory now.”

      Crowfeather raised his head and shot one despairing glance at Leafpool. She scrambled to her paws, leaving Ashfur, and padded across to meet the WindClan warrior. They stood a little way from the other cats, their heads close together. Standing in the shadows, Brambleclaw couldn’t help overhearing, but he didn’t want to disturb them by moving.

      “Goodbye, Crowfeather,” Leafpool murmured, sounding choked with pain. “We . . . we’d better not see each other again.”

      Crowfeather’s eyes flashed, and for a heartbeat Brambleclaw thought he was going to protest. Then he shook his head. “You’re right,” he meowed. “It would never have worked. I will never mean enough to you.”

      Leafpool sank her claws into the ground. “You mean more to me than you will ever know.”

      The tip of Crowfeather’s black tail twitched. “You’re a medicine cat. I understand what that means now. StarClan go with you, Leafpool. I’ll never forget you.”

      He and Leafpool touched noses, a delicate contact that lasted less than a heartbeat. Then Crowfeather turned back to his Clanmates. Leafpool watched him go, her eyes clouded with loss.

      Webfoot gave Crowfeather a dark look, and Weaselfur pointedly turned his back on him, but Onestar said nothing, only gathering all his warriors together with a sweep of his tail before leading them out of the camp.

      “Thank