Crookedstar's Promise

  “Hailstar can’t reward disobedience,” Mapleshade pointed out. “He’ll make you an apprentice soon.”

  “It’s dumb not to train me,” Crookedkit complained. “I could be much more use to my Clan if I was trained.”

  Mapleshade’s green eyes flashed in the half-light. “I could train you,” she offered. “But you’d have to keep it a secret.”

  Crookedkit leaned forward. “Could you?”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve had an apprentice.”

  “If you make me your apprentice I’ll work hard, I’ll do anything you tell me.” Crookedkit paced around Mapleshade. “I’ll meet you every night and you can show me how to hunt and fight like a RiverClan warrior!” If he was going to be leader, he’d need to know every move. “Please make me your apprentice—like a proper ’paw!”

  Mapleshade’s tail swung slowly from side to side. “The first thing you’re going to have to learn is patience,” she murmured.

  Crookedkit sat down and curled his tail over his paws. “I know.” He remembered Fleck’s teasing. “I promise I’ll try. But I’ve had to wait so long!”

  “The best prey is the prey longest waited for.” Mapleshade gazed at him thoughtfully.

  Please make me your apprentice! Crookedkit swallowed back the plea.

  “Will you make me one promise?” Mapleshade’s muzzle was a whisker from his.

  Crookedkit nodded vigorously. “Anything!”

  “I can do more than make you leader. I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of,” she went on. “Power over your Clanmates. Power over all the Clans.”

  Crookedkit’s eyes widened. “I promise!”

  “Wait.” Mapleshade tipped her head. “You don’t know what you’re promising yet.”

  Crookedkit blinked.

  “You must promise me,” Mapleshade lowered her voice, “that you will be loyal to your Clan above all other things. What you want for yourself is nothing compared to the needs of your Clan. Nothing, remember?” Her green gaze bore into his. “Do you make that promise?”

  Crookedkit’s heart quickened. “Yes!” He unsheathed his claws. “Yes, I do!”

  Chapter 10

  “No! No!” Mapleshade snapped. “Keep both hind paws on the ground or your enemy will unbalance you with nothing more than a hiss!” She nosed Crookedkit’s hindquarters until his paws were firmly planted. “Try it again.”

  Concentrating hard, Crookedkit reared up and slashed again at the stick that Mapleshade had stuck into the slimy soil. With both hind paws steady, he found his blow was fiercer and stronger and the stick tumbled with the third hit.

  “Much better.” Mapleshade pushed the fallen stick with a paw. “Now, try the move on me.”

  Crookedkit blinked at her. “What if I hurt you?”

  Mapleshade snorted. “You can try.” She faced him, her thick pelt like a mane around her neck.

  Crookedkit imagined that he was facing a LionClan warrior. Only the bravest survive! As his thoughts whirled with excitement, he reared up and struck at Mapleshade. But she’d disappeared. He stared, confused, then felt fur beneath his belly and a weight pushing him up. With a yowl of surprise, he was tossed into the air. He flicked his tail, paws flailing, and tried to turn. But the ground rushed at him and he landed heavily on his side. Winded, he struggled to his paws.

  Mapleshade was sitting a tail-length away. “A warrior doesn’t daydream,” she growled.

  “How did you know?”

  “You lost your focus a moment before you reared,” she told him. “I could see it in your eyes. Your thoughts were on a battle in your head. You must fight the battle you’re in, not the one you could be in.”

  Crookedkit blinked. “Can I try again?”

  Pain gripped his shoulders. He could still feel Mapleshade’s claws as he opened his eyes. Dawn light filtered through the nursery roof. Fallowtail was snoring. After a moon sleeping alone in the nursery, Crookedkit had at first resented Fallowtail’s arrival. The warrior was a queen now, heavy with kits. But after a night listening to her gentle snore, watching her wide belly rise and fall while her warmth filled the den, he felt happy to share again.

  He longed to ask her what she’d been doing on the moorland, three moons ago. But if it was a secret mission for Hailstar he didn’t dare. That was warrior business and he was painfully aware he was still just a kit. He woke every morning hoping Hailstar would make him an apprentice that day. But he knew he had to prove his loyalty to his Clan. At least his Clanmates weren’t treating him like a useless fledgling anymore. He cleaned the elders’ nests, helped patch the warriors’ dens to get them ready for leaf-bare, and Piketooth had taught him to swim and how to catch minnows among the reeds. It needed far more skill than he’d thought; he had to have paws as fast as lightning to grasp them as they flickered in and out of the stems. He ate with his Clanmates—not as neatly as some cats, but neater than before he left and he didn’t really care much anymore. Just as long as he kept growing.

  “Hailstar has got to make you a ’paw soon,” Brambleberry had commented while checking his jaw. “You’ll be too big to fit in the nursery at this rate.”

  Her prediction was close to the truth after Fallowtail kitted Willowkit and Graykit. Crookedkit added reeds to her nest, making it big enough to accommodate the two fidgeting balls of gray fluff, and cleared away the training wall to make room for a bigger nest for himself. He wondered when the kits’ father would visit, but no tom made an appearance in the nursery and Fallowtail never mentioned a mate.

  Snow came early, when Graykit and Willowkit were only two moons old.

  “Can we go and play in it?” Willowkit begged.

  Fallowtail looked imploringly at Crookedkit, who was tossing stale moss out of his nest. “Would you take them outside, please?” she begged. “I want to get this nest clean and they won’t stay out of the way.”

  “We’re just trying to collect the old moss for you!” Graykit objected.

  “Collecting?” Fallowtail sniffed. “Is that why you’ve been jumping around the den like frogs every time I tug a piece out?”

  Crookedkit purred, remembering Mist, Soot, Magpie, and Piper. “I’ll take them.” He squeezed through the nursery entrance, sinking into the belly-high snow outside. Thick gray clouds promised more. “We can’t stay out long,” he told Willowkit and Graykit as they scrambled out after him. “You’ll turn to ice.”

  Willowkit wallowed through the snow toward him. “Can we ride on your back?” she squeaked.

  Crookedkit crouched down. “Climb on.” He waited, wincing as the two kits climbed his pelt with burrsharp claws. “Hang on!” Straightening, he plodded through the snow.

  “Why are you still a kit when you’re so big?” Willowkit asked.

  “Shh!” Graykit hissed. “Fallowtail said we weren’t allowed to ask that!”

  Crookedkit’s fur ruffled. Willowkit dug in her claws. “Watch out!” she squeaked. “I nearly fell off.”

  “Well, don’t ask stupid questions,” Crookedkit snapped.

  “It’s not stupid,” she mewed. “Oakpaw’s been an apprentice for moons. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I had an accident and broke my jaw.” Crookedkit pushed through the snowy clearing. Beetlepaw and Ottersplash were digging tracks through the snow.

  “You’re better now,” Willowkit pointed out.

  “He ran away and Hailstar’s punishing him,” Graykit whispered to her littermate.

  Crookedkit pretended not to hear. “Where do you want me to go?” he called over his shoulder.

  “To the reed bed,” Graykit mewed. “Petalpaw told us the water gets hard in leaf-bare and you can walk on it.”

  “Only if a warrior has tested it first,” Crookedkit warned. “It can break under your weight.” He bounded over the snow where it had piled beside the apprentices’ den and headed to the frost-stricken reeds.

  Rippleclaw and Brightsky were clearing a space to drop the mice they’d caught. With the rive
r so cold, the hunting patrols were scouring the willow wood for land prey.

  “There.” Crookedkit tipped the kits off at the edge of the river. A thin frosting of ice coated the water.

  Willowkit peered over the bank. “Can we go on it?”

  “It’s too thin.”

  “Then let’s play warriors!” Willowkit bounded away, so light she barely broke the surface of the frost-hardened drift. Graykit chased after her, scooping a pawful of snow and hurling it at her sister.

  Crookedkit purred. He wanted to join in, but Rippleclaw was close by. It was bad enough being called a kit without acting like one. A shadow flitted over the clearing. Crookedkit looked up. A heron was circling. Its great wings flapped, white against the gray sky. Its beak was long and sharp like a newleaf reed spear. His heart lurched when he saw its beady eye fix on the camp. The kits were still small enough to be easy picking for a big, greedy bird.

  “You’re WindClan,” Graykit called to Willowkit. “And I’m RiverClan. Try and invade my camp.” Graykit was in the center of the clearing. She’d piled walls of snow around her and was ducking behind them.

  Squeaking a battle cry, Willowkit rushed one and struggled over the top. “Invasion!” she mewed, throwing herself on top of Graykit.

  The heron drew into a tighter circle over the clearing.

  Crookedkit stiffened. “Graykit.” He tried to keep his voice calm. He didn’t want to panic them and send them running in opposite directions. He had to keep them together. “Willowkit, come here.”

  “Get away, you WindClan fleabag!” Willowkit had Graykit in a shoulder-lock and was pummeling her with churning hind legs.

  “You won’t take the camp!” Graykit squealed, struggling to free herself.

  “Willowkit!” Crookedkit pushed his way toward them through the snow. “Graykit! Let’s get back to the nursery.”

  “Why?” Willowkit let go of her sister and blinked at him.

  “We’re not cold!” Graykit complained.

  Suddenly the heron stalled mid-air and dived. Its piercing cry split the air as it aimed for the kits.

  StarClan, help us!

  Crookedkit leaped.

  “Heron!” His warning cry rang around the camp as he dived on top of Willowkit, pushing her deep into the snow. Reaching out a paw, he grabbed Graykit and dragged her underneath him.

  The air whistled above him as the heron screeched down.

  He held on to the kits and tensed the muscles along his back.

  What about my destiny?

  Closing his eyes, he prepared for sharp talons to rip his pelt.

  Mapleshade! You told me I’d be leader!

  He pictured the beak spearing his flesh. He was going to die for sure.

  Suddenly Ottersplash’s shriek wailed over him. “You mangy river rat!”

  The heron’s cry turned to a screech of fury and pain. Crookedkit looked up. Ottersplash was clinging to its back, hauling it down to the ground. Beetlepaw leaped and landed on the heron’s neck.

  Rippleclaw reared at the edge of Crookedkit’s vision, claws unsheathed, ready to attack.

  The great bird struggled, flapping against the snow as Ottersplash released it.

  Rippleclaw dropped on to all four paws.

  “Let it go!” Ottersplash called to Beetlepaw.

  The broad-shouldered apprentice hung on, like soot against snow. “It’ll feed us for a moon!”

  “We don’t eat heron!” Ottersplash yowled.

  Growling, Beetlepaw let go and the heron floundered on to its spindly feet, then heaved itself out of the clearing.

  “Why don’t we eat heron?” Beetlepaw frowned as he watched the great bird escape.

  Rippleclaw padded forward. “If you’d ever tasted heron, you’d know.” He looked at Crookedkit. “That was fast thinking.”

  Ottersplash nodded. “Well spotted.”

  Brightsky darted toward them. “It’s a good thing you saw it!”

  The nursery shook as Fallowtail burst out of the entrance.

  Trembling with relief, Crookedkit sat up, letting Willowkit and Graykit struggle out from under him. They sneezed and shook snow from their ears.

  “What did you do that for?” Willowkit snorted.

  Fallowtail slewed to a halt beside them. “What happened?”

  “It’s okay, they’re safe,” Ottersplash reassured her.

  Hailstar appeared from his den.

  “Crookedkit just saved the kits,” Ottersplash told the RiverClan leader.

  “A heron tried to take them.” Rippleclaw shook snow from his paws. “Crookedkit grabbed them just in time.”

  “He nearly crushed us!” Graykit complained.

  Ottersplash flicked the kit’s ear with her tail. “He risked his own pelt to protect yours!”

  “Thanks for fighting it off.” Crookedkit nodded to Ottersplash and Beetlepaw. “I thought I was going to lose my ears.”

  Fallowtail wrapped her tail around her kits. “Thank you, Crookedkit.”

  Hailstar circled them, tail high. “How big was the heron?”

  “Huge!” Ottersplash gasped.

  “I didn’t see it!” Graykit complained.

  Willowkit sniffed. “That’s because Crookedkit was sitting on us.”

  “Anyone can sit on a kit.” Beetlepaw huffed. “I helped fight it off.”

  Hailstar dipped his head to the black warrior. “Well done.” He turned to Crookedkit. “But you stopped it from harming the kits.” His eyes glowed. “I should have done this a long time ago, but your Clan needed to see your courage and loyalty for themselves. Today you risked your life for your Clanmates.” He raised his muzzle. “It’s time I gave you your apprentice name.” He lifted his voice to the sky. “Let all cats old enough to swim gather to hear my words,” he called.

  Crookedkit’s heart soared. At last! His destiny was beginning to come true! He glanced at Beetlepaw, who was scowling beside him. You won’t just be competing with Oakpaw anymore.

  The elders were already hurrying from their den, disturbed by the commotion. Shellheart, padding into camp, paused. “What’s going on?” He stared at his Clanmates who were gathering at the edge of the clearing. Crookedkit proudly met his gaze and nodded. He knew his father would figure out what was happening.

  His brother guessed first. Oakpaw raced across the snow. “We can train together at last!” He ran his muzzle along Crookedkit’s twisted jaw. “We’ll be warriors soon. I can’t wait! I promise as soon as I’m leader, I’ll make you deputy.”

  Thanks! Crookedkit purred. But I plan on being RiverClan’s leader first.

  Hailstar glanced around his Clan. His gaze stopped at Cedarpelt. Crookedkit’s heart sank. Had the brown-striped warrior forgiven him for running away? “Cedarpelt!” he called. “You distrusted Crookedkit when he returned. You will demand more of him than any other warrior.”

  Even more than Mapleshade? Crookedkit looked at his paws, guilt pricking him as he thought of his secret mentor. “You will mentor him to become the fine warrior I know he can be. One day I hope his honor and bravery will match yours.” Hailstar’s gaze flicked to Crookedkit. “From this moment on, you shall be known as Crookedpaw.”

  Crookedpaw broke into a purr so strong that it shook the snow from his whiskers. Oakpaw circled Shellheart excitedly while the RiverClan deputy pawed the ground.

  Brambleberry raised her muzzle. “Crookedpaw! Crookedpaw!” The medicine cat’s eyes shone with pride.

  Beetlepaw, Volepaw, and Petalpaw joined in and Troutclaw’s rasping call made the cold air shudder. As his Clanmates called his new name, Crookedpaw looked for Rainflower. Had she seen him become an apprentice? This was just the beginning of his destiny. Where are you? His gaze darted among his Clanmates’ cheering faces.

  There she was! Beside Shimmerpelt.

  “Crookedpaw! Crookedpaw!” Shellheart and Oakpaw yowled to the darkening sky.

  Crookedpaw stared at his mother, his heart quickening as she stood still and silent. T
hen, with a rush of relief, he watched her lift her muzzle and call his new name.

  “Crookedpaw!”

  Chapter 11

  “Tuck in your tail!” Mapleshade ordered.

  Crookedpaw twined his tail around his hind legs as he reared up, slashing with his forepaws. Unbalanced, he staggered, his tail catching between his paws. “Oomph!” He fell with a thud to the dark earth.

  “You’ve got two mentors and you can’t even stay on your paws,” Mapleshade growled. “Get up.”

  Crookedpaw was already scrambling to his paws. “What’s the point of tucking in my tail?” he mewed crossly.

  “The less you give your enemy to grab hold of, the better,” Mapleshade explained.

  “But I can’t balance.”

  “You’ll just have to keep practicing until you can.” Mapleshade paced around him. “Now try again.”

  Concentrating, Crookedpaw shifted his paws, then heaved himself into the air once more. Tucking his tail around his hind legs, he slashed again. His muscles burned. He tried to balance, but the swing of his forepaws sent him staggering forward.

  “Frog dung!” He dropped on to four paws before he fell.

  “You’re getting close,” Mapleshade encouraged.

  “Not close enough,” Crookedpaw grunted through clenched teeth. He tried again and again, each time staying up a moment longer until, aching, he stopped and let his tail droop.

  “Keep going!” Mapleshade ordered.

  “Don’t forget I train all day with Cedarpelt, too,” he grumbled.

  “You want to be the best warrior in RiverClan, don’t you?” Mapleshade circled him impatiently.

  “Of course,” Crookedpaw snapped. “But I need a rest.” He gazed into the shadowy forest. “Why don’t you show me around StarClan territory?” He blinked hopefully at Mapleshade. “Cedarpelt showed me around RiverClan territory on my first day as an apprentice.”

  “Not till you’ve got this move right.”

  “I’ll practice it tomorrow night.” Crookedpaw stood up. “I want to see what’s beyond the trees.” He padded forward. “There must be more to StarClan’s hunting grounds than this smelly old forest.”

  Mapleshade shot in front of him, her orange-and-white pelt blocking his view.