Bluestar's Prophecy

  This was Lionpaw’s and Goldenpaw’s first Gathering, and Lionpaw had been ahead of the patrol most of the way, only giving way to Pinestar when the ThunderClan leader called him back and told him to stay beside Swiftbreeze.

  Isn’t he nervous at all?

  Goldenpaw was shivering, and Bluepaw guessed it wasn’t just with cold. She tried to catch the apprentice’s eye to reassure her, but Goldenpaw’s gaze was fixed on the cats below, milling between the four great oaks like shadows dappling water.

  “I didn’t think there’d be so many,” she breathed.

  Dappletail ran her tail down her young apprentice’s spine, smoothing her fur. “Don’t worry. The truce holds, so long as the full moon shines.”

  Bluepaw looked up. Not a cloud dotted the blood-dark sky, and the stars shone like chips of ice around the great milky moon.

  Snowpaw circled Thistlepaw, her paws crunching the snow. “If any cat says anything about the battle with WindClan, I’ll shred them,” she vowed. “I’m bored of hearing about it.”

  Pinestar flashed her a stern look. “No one will shred anyone,” he warned.

  “They must be bored of it by now, too,” Windflight growled.

  Adderfang snorted, his breath billowing. “Any excuse to provoke us.” He beckoned to Thistlepaw with his tail. “Stay with me,” he told his apprentice. “You nearly fought with a ShadowClan apprentice last time.”

  “You always tell me only cowards turn away from a fight,” Thistlepaw objected.

  Adderfang glared at him. “I didn’t say you shouldn’t have fought him. Just not at a Gathering. You’re too impulsive.”

  “But he said I looked like a kit!” Thistlepaw retorted.

  “You don’t look like a kit this moon,” Snowpaw mewed softly.

  Bluepaw dug her claws hard into the snow.

  “We’d better go down,” Sunfall advised.

  Eyes flashed from the clearing below as expectant faces turned to watch ThunderClan arrive.

  Pinestar nodded and, flicking his tail, charged down the slope. Heart quickening, Bluepaw bounded forward. Her pelt brushed Sunfall’s as she raced to keep up. Her paws skidded on the snow, and she found herself running faster and faster as she tried to keep her balance. She blinked against the flurries of snow kicked up by her Clanmates as they struggled to hold their course on the slippery slope and thundered too fast into the clearing, scattering WindClan and ShadowClan like a breeze shooing leaves.

  “Watch out!” A WindClan warrior leaped out of the way.

  “This is a Gathering, not a battle!” yowled a ShadowClan tabby, eyes like slits.

  Two elders scrambled away from where they’d been sharing tongues, spitting crossly.

  Bluepaw felt Snowpaw barge into her as she slid to an unceremonious halt, tumbling against Sunfall.

  “Watch out.” A WindClan sneer made her spin around. “It’s icy, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  She recognized Hawkheart at once. His whiskers twitched as he watched the ThunderClan cats’ undignified stumbling. It was the first time she’d seen the WindClan medicine cat since he’d killed Moonflower, and the blood roared in Bluepaw’s ears. She didn’t hear Sunfall beside her until his breath stirred her ear fur.

  “StarClan will judge him,” the ThunderClan deputy murmured.

  But if we were wrong to attack, perhaps they’ll forgive him….

  Bluepaw lifted her chin and stared at Hawkheart, refusing to flinch even when his gaze met hers.

  “Well, if it isn’t the kit-warrior,” Hawkheart meowed in recognition. “Are you an apprentice at last?”

  Before Bluepaw could answer, Heatherstar padded between them. She glanced at the mottled medicine cat. “Wait beside the Great Rock.”

  Hawkheart dipped his head slowly, then padded away.

  “Pinestar.” Heatherstar greeted the ThunderClan leader coldly.

  Pinestar nodded. “Heatherstar.”

  Heatherstar’s blue eyes flashed, and she padded away to join her Clanmates.

  “That’s Talltail.” Snowpaw nodded toward a black-and-white tom whispering in Heatherstar’s ear. “Sparrowpelt thinks he’ll be WindClan leader one day.”

  “Why?” Bluepaw gazed at the WindClan tom. He was small like his Clanmates, but his tail stretched toward the stars, longer than any she’d seen.

  “He’s a good warrior, and smart,” Snowpaw answered.

  Talltail’s eyes flashed toward the ThunderClan cats, gleaming with accusation.

  Bluepaw’s claws itched with unease. “Anyone would think the battle was only a sunrise ago, the way they’re staring.”

  Snowpaw pressed against her. “Don’t let them get to you,” she soothed.

  “Is it always like this?” Goldenpaw’s eyes were round with worry.

  Lionpaw flicked his tail. “What’s the point of a truce if everyone’s so grumpy? We may as well fight.” He unsheathed his claws.

  “Perhaps RiverClan will be friendlier,” Goldenpaw ventured.

  “If they get here.” Snowpaw scanned the snow-bright slopes.

  Bluepaw shivered. “Maybe they couldn’t make it through the snow.”

  Claws scraped stone and Bluepaw turned to see Cedarstar, ShadowClan’s gray leader, scrabble to the top of the Great Rock.

  “Let the Clans gather,” he yowled.

  “Who put him in charge?” came Adderfang’s angry whisper from the knot of ThunderClan warriors.

  ShadowClan and WindClan moved toward the rock.

  “Come on.” Pinestar led his Clan forward. Adderfang’s paws kicked up snow as he followed his leader.

  Bluepaw was grateful for the warmth of her Clanmates as they clustered in the shadow of the Great Rock, their breath rising like steam from a sun-warmed stream.

  Goldenpaw stared up at the huge stone, glittering with frost. “How do they climb up there?”

  Cedarstar’s dark gray pelt glowed like polished rock as Pinestar leaped up beside him. Heatherstar followed, sitting a short distance from the ThunderClan leader; her pelt was spiky, and her muzzle wrinkled as though a bad smell offended her.

  Windflight pushed to the head of the ThunderClan cats. “We can’t start without RiverClan,” he called.

  “Should we sit here and freeze to death waiting?” a ShadowClan warrior cried back, green eyes glinting from a jet-black pelt.

  Heatherstar leaned forward. “Let’s begin.”

  Murmurs of agreement rose from the other Clans.

  “At least we can go home sooner,” Snowpaw whispered in Bluepaw’s ear.

  As Cedarstar stood up, a yowl sounded from the hillside beyond the oaks.

  “Wait!” Dappletail called, stretching up on her hind legs. “Here comes RiverClan!”

  Through the bare branches of the oaks, Bluepaw could see cats streaming toward the clearing. They sent snow flying as they careered down the hillside. Their paws crunched the flattened snow as they skidded to a halt in the clearing.

  Cedarstar watched through narrowed eyes as Hailstar jumped onto the Great Rock. Wordlessly RiverClan flooded around ThunderClan and pressed in among them, their pelts cold and damp, until the stench of fish made Bluepaw dizzy.

  Snowpaw rubbed her nose with a paw. “Couldn’t they go and get warm with ShadowClan?” she grumbled. “Or at least hold their stinky breath.”

  Bluepaw closed her mouth so she couldn’t taste the scent. At least RiverClan wasn’t treating them as though they had greencough. But why were they late? She stared up at the leaders, waiting for Hailstar to explain. But the RiverClan leader only nodded a greeting to the other leaders.

  “Let’s start,” he meowed, still breathless from his run.

  Bluepaw blinked. Were the leaders so distrustful of one another that, even under the truce of the full moon, they wouldn’t give anything away?

  Something heavy shoved Bluepaw from behind. Her forepaws slid on the icy ground, and she almost lost her balance. Crossly she jerked her head around. “Watch out!”

  A s
tocky gray tabby sat behind her.

  Clumsy mouse-brain! “You nearly knocked me ov—” She stopped mid-hiss. The tabby’s mouth was odd-looking—twisted, as if put on upside down. She stared, surprised by how strange it made him look.

  “Hi,” the tabby mewed. “I’m Crookedpaw.”

  “Crookedpaw?” He looked too big to still have an apprentice name, but it certainly wasn’t his paw that was crooked.

  He shrugged. “I’m guessing my warrior name will be Crookedjaw,” he joked.

  He was an apprentice! Bluepaw tried to think of something to say to him that wouldn’t sound rude.

  “Unless”—he flicked his tail under her nose—“my tail goes the same way. Then Hailstar might have to rethink.”

  Bluepaw shifted her paws. Was that supposed to be funny?

  Her heart sank as Crookedpaw shrugged and looked away, his eyes darkening. “I knew cats would stare at me.”

  Bluepaw felt hot with guilt. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

  “I’d better get used to it.” Crookedpaw lifted his chin. “Until everyone gets used to me.” The playfulness returned to his eyes. “At least no one ever forgets my name,” he mewed breezily. “What’s yours?”

  “Bluepaw.”

  Crookedpaw sat back on his haunches and looked her up and down. “You’re not very blue,” he considered.

  Bluepaw purred. “I look more blue in daylight,” she teased.

  Crookedpaw gazed around the Clans. “Is this your first Gathering?”

  Bluepaw shook her head.

  “Then you know what’s going on?” Crookedpaw mewed. “What do the leaders talk about?”

  “If you listened, you might find out!” a RiverClan warrior hissed in Crookedpaw’s ear.

  Crookedpaw ducked to Bluepaw and dropped his mew to a whisper. “Which one is Pinestar?”

  Bluepaw flicked her tail toward the ThunderClan leader, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Crookedpaw. Why hadn’t he been to a Gathering before? He must have been an apprentice for moons. “Why haven’t you come before?”

  “I was apprenticed late,” he whispered. “I was a pretty sickly kit.” He puffed out his chest. “Not anymore though.” He glanced back at his Clanmates. “I think I surprised the whole Clan by growing this big.”

  Bluepaw’s whiskers twitched. She liked this cat.

  “Hush!” This time it was Dappletail who leaned over. “The leaders are speaking.”

  “Sorry.” Crookedpaw’s eyes sparkled with mischief. He waited a moment for Dappletail to turn her attention back to the Great Rock, then whispered in Bluepaw’s ear. “Which one’s Heatherstar?”

  “The small one. Cedarstar’s next to her.” She flicked her tail from the leaders to the medicine cats gathered in their own small knot at the side of the rock. “That’s Goosefeather, our medicine cat, and the white she-cat is Sagewhisker, the ShadowClan medicine cat.” She shuddered. “And that’s Hawkheart.”

  “Don’t you like him?”

  “He killed my mother.”

  Bluepaw felt Crookedpaw’s tail touch her cheek lightly, then whisk away.

  “Where are the deputies?” he asked.

  Sunfall glanced over his shoulder. “The ThunderClan deputy is right in front of you, and he’ll pin back your whiskers if you don’t do as you’re told and be quiet!”

  Bluepaw flinched, then saw Crookedpaw rolling his eyes. Did nothing faze this cat? Stifling a purr, she turned to watch the leaders.

  Heatherstar stood on the edge of the rock. “We have restocked our medicine supplies.” Her eyes flashed toward the ThunderClan cats. “And all our elders and kits have finally recovered from the attack.”

  Sunfall growled. “We fought only warriors! No kit or elder was attacked!”

  “I’m sorry.” Heatherstar’s eyes glinted. “I meant to say, our kits and elders have finally recovered from the shock of being invaded without warning and seeing their kin brutally attacked in their own nests.”

  The growl rumbled on in Sunfall’s throat, but Heatherstar ignored it. “The prey is running well despite the snow.”

  Bluepaw narrowed her eyes. The WindClan leader’s pelt was well groomed, but it clung to her small frame, outlining the bones beneath.

  “The Clan is well fed.”

  She’s lying.

  Adderfang snarled. “I suppose that’s why you’ve stopped hunting on our territory?” He stared at Heatherstar. Bluepaw stiffened. He was challenging her to admit that it was the battle that had warned WindClan off.

  “We never hunted on your land,” Heatherstar spat. “Stop trying to justify your cowardly attack!”

  Bluepaw felt pelts bristle around her as growls rippled through all the Clans. Adderfang flattened his ears. He was clearly itching for a fight. And by the dark murmuring from the other Clans, so were they. Empty bellies had made everyone angry and restless. The cats shifted where they sat, and the frosty air seemed to crackle with their frustration.

  “Our attack was not unprovoked!” Stormtail growled.

  “You destroyed a Clan’s medicine supplies!”

  A dark tabby tom, his yellow eyes blazing, was staring at Stormtail from among the ShadowClan warriors. Bluepaw glanced anxiously up at the leaders. How would they stop the rising tide of rage that seemed to be flooding the hollow? Heatherstar blinked and stepped back from the edge. Cedarstar watched the cats through narrowed eyes while Pinestar and Hailstar shifted their paws. It seemed that no one wanted to be the first to show weakness by trying to soothe ruffled pelts. Alarm shot through Bluepaw, and her fur lifted along her spine.

  “Great StarClan! It’s cold!” Crookedpaw pressed against her. Bluepaw flinched, looking around to see if any of their Clanmates were glaring at them for getting so close. But every cat was focused on the Great Rock, watching to see what the leaders would do next. Bluepaw relaxed. The warmth of Crookedpaw’s pelt and the breeziness of his mew smoothed her fur. She was being too sensitive.

  Pinestar stepped forward. “ThunderClan is thriving despite the snow,” he announced. “We have two new apprentices, Lionpaw and Goldenpaw.”

  Goldenpaw ducked shyly between her Clanmates, while Lionpaw stretched his head as if trying to match Swiftbreeze in height. His eyes shone with pride, but when the other Clans did not turn to look or congratulate him, he hunched beside his mentor, crestfallen.

  “We also have two new warriors,” Pinestar carried on. “Leopardfoot and Patchpelt!” The Clans held their chilly silence. How could they be so petty? They all knew how important becoming a warrior was!

  “Our young warriors and apprentices are making good progress in their training, and our elders are well fed.” Pinestar spoke as if he hadn’t noticed the other Clans’ coldness.

  Bluepaw glanced self-consciously at Crookedpaw, uncomfortable with Pinestar’s lie as she remembered Weedwhisker’s shrunken belly. But Crookedpaw was busy staring up at the Great Rock as his leader took Pinestar’s place.

  Hailstar lifted his muzzle. “RiverClan has been free from Twolegs since the snows came.”

  Murmurs of satisfaction rippled through the RiverClan cats.

  “Except for those Twoleg kits!” Ottersplash called from the back.

  Owlfur answered his Clanmate. “They won’t be back for a while!”

  Crookedpaw purred beside Bluepaw. “That’ll teach them to slide on the ice!”

  Bluepaw gasped. “Did they fall in?” The thought of plunging through ice into dark, freezing water made her tremble.

  “They only got their paws wet,” Crookedpaw told her. “Mouse-brains! Every RiverClan kit knows to stay off the ice unless a warrior has tested it first.”

  Hailstar flicked his tail. “Fishing is good despite the ice.” His gaze scanned his Clan, then settled on one cat. “And we have one new warrior. Welcome, Oakheart!”

  WindClan and ShadowClan cheered.

  How dare they? Anger shot through Bluepaw. Patchpelt stared silently ahead, his shoulders s
tiff. Leopardfoot was scowling over her shoulder at the new RiverClan warrior.

  “That’s my brother.”

  Crookedpaw’s mew surprised Bluepaw.

  “Who?”

  “Oakheart,” Crookedpaw explained. “He’s my littermate.”

  Bluepaw stretched up on her hind legs to get a better view of the tom, but could see only the reddish-brown tips of his ears.

  “He’s great,” Crookedpaw purred. “He caught a fish on his first day as an apprentice.”

  I caught a squirrel. Bluepaw found herself competing.

  “He says that when he becomes leader, he’ll make me deputy.”

  How modest! “I have a sister,” Bluepaw announced. She nodded toward Snowpaw, who was sitting beside Sparrowpelt, a tail-length away. “She’s a brilliant hunter, too.”

  “Maybe if they both became leader we could be deputies together,” Crookedpaw mewed.

  Deputy? What was the point of being deputy? “I want to be the leader!”

  Crookedpaw looked at her in surprise, then broke into a purr. “Of course.”

  Bluepaw jumped as Dappletail’s paw flicked her ear and then Crookedpaw’s.

  “Hush!” Dappletail sounded cross. “How many times do you have to be told?”

  “Sorry.” Bluepaw dipped her head, then raised her gaze obediently to the Great Rock once more.

  Cedarstar was speaking. His Clan watched him, their shoulders stiff.

  “It is with sadness that I must announce our deputy, Stonetooth, is moving to the elders’ den.”

  A thin, gray tabby, standing at the foot of the rock, nodded solemnly as his Clan called his name.

  “He doesn’t look so old,” Bluepaw whispered to Crookedpaw.

  “A bit long in the tooth.” Crookedpaw choked back a purr.

  Confused, Bluepaw looked again at the gray tom and noticed his teeth curling from under his lip like claws. She shoved Crookedpaw. “He can’t help it!” But a purr rumbled in her throat.

  “Raggedpelt will take his place,” Cedarstar went on.

  A dark brown warrior stalked from the crowd of ShadowClan cats into a pool of moonlight below the rock. He was far bigger than Stonetooth, who, thrown into the moon’s shadow by the new deputy, suddenly looked withered and scrawny.