Stormkit padded after his brother and squeezed into the nursery. “Wow!” He stared in delight at the far end of the den. The nests had been pushed back and moss laid on the floor.
Oakkit bounded past him and landed on the moss. “This is so we can fall without hurting ourselves.”
“What are those?” Stormkit glanced up at the fat brown bulrush heads sticking out high up the nursery wall.
“Watch!” Oakkit crouched, his head tipped back as he focused on the bulrushes. Then he leaped. Mid-leap he reached out both forepaws and grasped a thick brown rush, then fell back, landing deftly on his hind legs before wrestling it to the ground.
“That’s great!” Stormkit felt a surge of excitement. “Can I try?”
“Of course,” Oakkit mewed. “That’s what it’s for. Me and Volekit climb up and thread in fresh bulrushes every morning. It’s to practice hunting skills. By the time we start training we’ll be able to hit a mouse from three tail-lengths away.”
The den rustled as Volekit, Beetlekit, and Petalkit fought to squeeze in.
“Hey! I was first!” Beetlekit complained as Petalkit climbed over him and scampered across the nests to the training corner.
“Have you tried it yet, Stormkit?” Volekit demanded. He crouched down, wiggled his hindquarters, then flung himself at the wall and snatched a bulrush head.
Stormkit pressed his belly to the floor and looked up. A fat bulrush was dangling teasingly over his head. He narrowed his eyes and leaped. Stretching out his paws, he reached for the long fuzzy head. His paws clapped together, grabbing thin air, and he fell back on to the moss panting. “Frog dung!”
“You nearly had it,” Petalkit mewed encouragingly.
Stormkit lashed his tail. “Nearly’s not good enough.”
The nest behind him rustled. Echomist squeezed into the nursery, her soft gaze on Stormkit. “It’s good to have you back.”
Petalkit purred. “He’s trying the training corner,” she mewed. “He can jump pretty high already.”
Volekit stared thoughtfully at the wall. “We’re going to have to add more bulrushes.”
The den trembled. “You’re not going to clog up that corner with more mess, are you?” Rainflower pushed her way in and sat down. She licked her paw and ran it over her pale gray face. “Can’t you play outside like normal kits?”
“Okay.” Oakkit nudged Stormkit toward the entrance. “Come on,” he called to the others. “Let’s play moss-ball.”
Beetlekit bounded across the den. “I’m catcher!” he mewed.
“You were catcher last time!” Petalkit scrambled after him.
As his denmates crowded past him, Stormkit stumbled over a pile of woven reeds at the edge of the den. “What’s this?” It looked like a nest. Had a new queen moved to the nursery?
Rainflower paused mid-lick. “That’s your nest,” she meowed.
“My nest?” Wouldn’t he be sleeping in her nest with Oakkit, like before?
“You’ll need your own space,” Rainflower told him. “Your jaw must be sore. You’ll probably fidget in your sleep. I don’t want Oakkit disturbed just because you’re injured.”
Stormkit blinked at his mother. “It doesn’t hurt now,” he mewed. “I won’t fidget, I promise.”
“Still, it’s better if you have your own space.” Rainflower returned to her washing.
Volekit nudged Stormkit’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go and play.”
Stormkit stared at his mother. Was she angry because he’d worried her by being so ill?
Shellheart poked his head through the entrance. “How are you settling in?”
“I’ve got my own nest,” Stormkit mumbled.
Shellheart narrowed his eyes. “Have you got your own nest, too, Oakkit?”
Oakkit stared at his paws.
“Rainflower.” Shellheart’s mew was more like a growl. “I’d like to speak with you outside.”
The fur along Rainflower’s spine bristled as she hopped out of the den.
“Come on, kits,” Echomist mewed cheerily. “How about another go at the training wall?”
“But we’re going outside to play.” Beetlekit’s mew was drowned by Shellheart’s angry snarl beyond the nursery wall.
“His own nest?”
“He has to grow up eventually,” Rainflower answered.
“But Oakkit can stay in your nest?” Shellheart hissed.
“Stormkit must be used to his own nest after so long in the medicine den.”
Shellheart snorted. “At least you’re still calling him Stormkit.”
“And I’ll keep calling him that till Hailstar changes his name formally.”
“So you’re still determined to rename him Crookedkit?”
Stormkit froze. Crookedkit?
“It will suit him.”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit cruel?”
“If he’d stayed in camp he’d never have had the accident.”
She does blame me!
Rainflower carried on. “Then he wouldn’t be the ugly mess he is now.” The icy coldness in his mother’s voice made Stormkit feel sick. “He’d still be my handsome young warrior.”
He began to tremble. Soft fur brushed beside him. Echomist pressed close as Shellheart growled at his mate.
“How do you think Stormkit must feel?”
“He’ll get used to it,” Rainflower retorted.
“To what?” Rage sharpened Shellheart’s mew. “His new name? Being scarred for life? Being rejected by his mother?”
“The accident wasn’t my fault! I shouldn’t have to deal with it,” Rainflower spat.
Stormkit’s chest tightened. A sob welled in his throat.
“She’s grieving,” Echomist murmured in his ear. “She doesn’t realize what she’s saying.”
Shellheart’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I never knew you could be so heartless, Rainflower,” he growled. “If you insist on Hailstar going ahead with the renaming ceremony then we are no longer mates. I will never share a den or a piece of fresh-kill with you again.”
“Very well.”
Stormkit couldn’t listen to any more. He jumped to his paws and rushed out of the den. “Please don’t argue! I don’t mind sleeping by myself or having a new name!” he wailed. But Rainflower was already crossing the clearing to Hailstar’s den and didn’t seem to hear him. Stormkit stared pleadingly at Shellheart. “Don’t argue because of me.”
“It’s not because of you.” Shellheart wrapped his tail around Stormkit. “It’s because of her.” He stared after Rainflower, anger flaring in his eyes.
Brambleberry was trotting toward them. “How’s the nursery?” Her cheerful mew faltered as she caught Shellheart’s gaze. She turned to see Rainflower disappear into Hailstar’s den. “She’s really going to do it?”
Shellheart nodded. Brambleberry closed her eyes for a moment, then blinked them open and stared at Stormkit. “The seasons change, Stormkit, but RiverClan never stops being RiverClan. Shellheart will always be brave and loyal, whether there is sun or snow on his pelt. And you will always have the heart of a warrior, no matter what your name is.” She touched him gently on the head with her muzzle.
The trailing moss at the entrance to Hailstar’s den quivered and Hailstar padded out. Rainflower slid out after him. “Let all cats old enough to swim gather to hear my words,” the RiverClan leader meowed solemnly.
Brambleberry flicked her tail. “Perhaps I should change my name.” She began to walk toward Hailstar. “I could be called Swallowherb.” She purred at her own joke. “See?” She looked over her shoulder at Stormkit. “Because that’s what I do? I make cats swallow herbs.”
Stormkit padded numbly after her. He tried to purr but his throat was dry.
Brambleberry halted and looked down at him. “StarClan is watching over you,” she told him. Her blue eyes met his. “This is part of a destiny only they understand, but you must believe that they are guiding all of us, and that they care about y
ou just as much as any cat in RiverClan.”
Stormkit blinked as the medicine cat turned and trotted away. He wanted to believe her, but why would StarClan let something so unfair happen to him?
Troutclaw, Birdsong, and Tanglewhisker headed down the slope as Echomist herded Volekit, Petalkit, and Beetlekit from the nursery.
“How can he change someone’s name before they’re an apprentice?” Volekit was protesting.
“Shhh!” Echomist hurried him on with a nudge of her nose.
Hailstar waited with Rainflower beside him while the Clan gathered at the edge of the clearing.
“What’s going on?” Shimmerpelt whispered.
Fallowtail shrugged. “No idea. It’s too soon for the kits to have their apprentice names.”
Softpaw lifted her chin. “Maybe we’re going to get our warrior names,” she hissed to Whitepaw. Whitepaw glanced questioningly at his mentor, but Timberfur was whispering something to Ottersplash, his eyes dark.
Stormkit’s heart quickened. He tried to catch Rainflower’s eye but she stared straight ahead.
“Stormkit, come here.” Hailstar’s mew was soft.
Stormkit padded, trembling, into the clearing. He looked blindly around. The familiar faces seemed strange, menacing, all of a sudden. Was this a bad dream?
“I have gathered the Clan to witness the giving of your new name. I’m sorry you have suffered so much. The whole Clan knows how brave you’ve been.” His mew was gentle with sympathy. “Your new name may describe your face, young kit, but it doesn’t describe your heart. I know you are as true and loyal as any warrior. Bear your name bravely as a kit and nobly when you become a warrior.”
Stormkit nodded.
“From this day forward, you shall be known as Crookedkit.”
Stormkit tried not to hear the murmur of shock that swept around the Clan. He stared past Hailstar, confusion clouding his thoughts.
But I was born in a storm. I’m Stormkit.
How could he ever be Stormstar now?
Suddenly he glimpsed an orange-and-white pelt in the shadow of the sedges. The cat from the river! Her pelt shimmered as though caught in a heat haze. He tasted the air and found only the familiar scents of his Clanmates. She must be a StarClan cat. StarClan is watching over you. Brambleberry’s words rang in his head. Had the orange-and-white cat been sent to remind him of their promise? Don’t worry, little one. He heard her words again. It’s not your time yet. You have a great destiny ahead of you.
“Crookedkit.” He murmured his new name. “I am Crookedkit.” He glanced around his Clanmates. No one met his gaze. Only the shimmering orange-and-white cat. Her amber eyes shone, unblinking, at him. She believes in me. With a rush of hope, Crookedkit lifted his chin.
“I am Crookedkit,” he repeated.
Chapter 5
“Can I sleep in Crookedkit’s nest tonight?” Oakkit mewed to Rainflower. His eyes glistened in the moonlight that filtered through the walls. “It’s my last night in the nursery.”
“No.” Rainflower climbed into her nest and circled, ready for sleep. “How many times have I told you? He’s used to sleeping alone. You’ll stop him from getting a good night’s rest, and he needs as much sleep as he can get if he’s ever going to grow.”
Crookedkit flinched. A long moon of sleeping in his own nest had deepened his pain, not eased it. Volepaw, Petalpaw, and Beetlepaw had received their apprentice names and moved to the apprentices’ den, and Echomist had returned to the warriors’ dens. Crookedkit curled into his nest and tucked his nose under his paw. If only he hadn’t broken his jaw, Rainflower would still love him. Instead she acted like his ugliness was contagious. He’d tried to please her, to make up for his accident. He’d fetched her prey from the fresh-kill pile until she asked him to stop. He’d offered to clean out the stale moss from her nest, but she’d shaken her head.
“Clean out your own nest,” she’d told him. “Softpaw can do ours.”
Crookedkit shoved his nose tighter under his paw. His belly rumbled; his jaw ached. He’d only managed to eat a fish tail earlier before pain had stopped him from chewing. If he couldn’t eat, how would he even grow big enough to get his apprentice name?
“Crookedkit!”
Volepaw was calling. Crookedkit blinked open his eyes. Hot greenleaf sun shone through the reed walls. Rainflower’s nest was empty. Had he missed Oakkit’s naming ceremony?
“The dawn patrol brought fresh-kill!”
Crookedkit struggled groggily out of his nest, his legs trembling as he stumbled out of the nursery.
Volepaw was bouncing around Shellheart. “Look what he caught!”
Shellheart held a fat trout in his jaws. He dropped it at Crookedkit’s paws. Crookedkit jumped back; the fish was almost as big as he was. Shellheart purred. “One day you’ll be catching fish like that.” He tore a lump from the shimmering fresh-kill. “Eat this.” He tossed it beside Crookedkit. “I’ll give the rest to the elders. Tanglewhisker won’t believe his eyes.”
Crookedkit watched his father carry the fish away, then looked down at the piece at his paws.
Volepaw was watching him.
Crookedkit ignored the trout, even though its fresh river smell was making his mouth water. He sucked back the spit that was threatening to spill over his twisted jaw. “Has Hailstar given Oakkit his apprentice name yet?” he asked.
“Not yet.” Volepaw glanced toward Hailstar’s den. A pale gray tail twitched between the trailing moss covering the entrance. “Rainflower wanted to talk to Hailstar before the ceremony.”
Perhaps she’s asking Hailstar to make me an apprentice, too! Hope flared in Crookedkit’s belly.
“She told Echomist that there’s only one warrior good enough to train Oakkit,” Volepaw went on. “And she’s going to make sure Hailstar chooses him.”
“Oh.” Disappointment dragged at his pelt. “Which warrior is it?”
Volepaw shrugged. “Who knows?” He glanced at the piece of trout. “Are you going to eat that?”
Crookedkit hesitated. He was hungry but there was no way he was going to eat in front of Volepaw. He still drooled like an elder. “You have it.” He kicked it toward Volepaw.
“Thanks.” Volepaw crouched and started eating. Crookedkit’s belly growled.
“Let all cats old enough to swim gather in the clearing!” Hailstar was padding from his den, his wide shoulders sleek and freshly groomed.
Cedarpelt slid out from the sedges. A dead frog dangled from his jaws. Fallowtail jumped down from the ancient willow. She turned and called up to Softpaw. “We’ll practice diving later.”
Softpaw slithered clumsily down the trunk. “I don’t know why we have to learn to climb. It’s not natural.”
Tanglewhisker poked his head out of the elders’ den. “A ceremony already? The sun’s barely up!” he grumbled, but he padded down the slope with Birdsong and Troutclaw ambling after him.
Piketooth hauled himself out of the reed bed, clasping a bundle of stems between his jaws. River water streamed from his tabby pelt as he laid the reeds on the ground. Shimmerpelt followed him on to dry land, another bundle dripping between her teeth. She dropped the reeds and shook out her glossy black fur. Lakeshine, who was dozing nearby, leaped to her paws as water sprayed her.
“Sorry.” Shimmerpelt flicked her tail. “I didn’t see you.”
Lakeshine’s mottled gray pelt made her look like dappled shadow beside the shore. “It’s okay.” The she-cat licked her wet fur. “It’ll cool me down.”
Brambleberry emerged from the medicine den and sat beside Softpaw. The apprentice was lapping at her chest where mossy willow bark had turned her snowy white fur into another patch of tabby.
Whitepaw came hurtling from the dirtplace tunnel. “Did I miss anything?” He circled his mentor.
Timberfur sat down. “Not yet.”
Crookedkit wondered where to sit. Shellheart was beside Hailstar. Rainflower stood apart from her Clanmates, Oakkit at her side. Oakkit’
s eyes sparkled. Crookedkit wanted to race across the clearing and wish him luck. But he knew Rainflower would send him away with a snarl.
Brambleberry flicked her tail toward Crookedkit. “Sit with me.” She stroked Crookedkit’s spine with her tail as he reached her. “It’s nice and cool here.”
As he settled beneath the willow beside her, Echomist joined him. “I bet you’re proud of your brother.”
Crookedkit purred. Soon Oakkit would be the strongest and bravest apprentice in the Clan. “He’s going to be a great warrior, like Shellheart.”
Echomist’s scent touched his nose and nursery memories rushed back. When a bad dream woke him, she’d let him creep into her nest and bundled him among her own kits. She always gently pushed him out before dawn so he could go back to his own nest before Rainflower woke up. “It’s best not to cause trouble,” she’d whisper, licking his ears.
“I think Oakkit’s trying to get your attention.” Brambleberry nudged Crookedkit from his thoughts. Oakkit was staring at him, mouthing something. Crookedkit tried to guess what he was saying. It looked like “Crookedpaw.” He’s wishing I was getting my apprentice name, too. Warmth flooded him. It won’t be long, he silently promised.
Hailstar dipped his head. “Oakkit, come here.”
As Oakkit padded forward, Hailstar called another name. “Shellheart!”
Crookedkit blinked. Hailstar was making Shellheart Oakkit’s mentor! Fathers never mentored their own kits. He stared at Rainflower. Her eyes glowed. She had planned this. Crookedkit felt suddenly cold.
Hailstar’s gaze swept the Clan. “Shellheart and Oakkit share courage, strength, and loyalty.” He dipped his head to his deputy. “Strengthen those talents in your apprentice, Shellheart, and make Oakpaw a warrior who will lead RiverClan to greatness.”
“Oakpaw!” Rainflower was the first to raise her voice in praise of RiverClan’s newest apprentice.
“Oakpaw!” Volepaw and Petalpaw joined in. Timberfur and Brightsky lashed their tails enthusiastically as they called out Oakpaw’s new name.
Crookedkit scanned the reeds, looking for a glimpse of orange-and-white pelt. The StarClan cat had come before. Would she come now to remind him of his destiny? Or was Oakpaw going to get that, too?