Bluestar's Prophecy

  Green buds softened the bushes, and for the first time in moons, the forest seemed to glow with the promise of life and warmth. Bluepaw padded beneath the towering pines, their flat needles silky beneath her pads. She breathed deeply, opening her mouth to taste the faint tang of newleaf. It wouldn’t be long before the forest was alive with the song of birds and the rustle of prey, and the lean moons would be just a memory.

  “What about here?” Sweetpaw circled a tree, looking into the branches. “I think I can see a nest.”

  Sunfall and Smallear followed her gaze.

  “Abandoned,” Sunfall sighed.

  Suddenly a twitch of movement bobbed in the distance.

  “Squirrel!” Bluepaw dashed away stealthily, joy rising in her belly as she raced between the trees.

  The squirrel flashed through the forest with its fluffy tail billowing behind. Bluepaw ran as lightly as she could, hoping to catch it before it realized it was being chased. The moment it heard her, it might scoot up a tree, and the pines were too smooth and branchless to climb. She swerved past a bramble, fragrant with new growth, and found that she was slowly gaining. She pressed back the urge to run full-pelt in case the thump of her paws gave her away. Her mouth watered. The squirrel would be a delicious treat for her still-hungry Clanmates.

  Another few tail-lengths and she would be close enough to pounce.

  She controlled her breathing, measuring each breath so that she would be ready. She could already taste the kill.

  Now!

  She pushed hard against the ground, surging forward, sprinkling needles in her wake. The squirrel ran harder, trailing fear-scent now. Eyes fixed on its gray back, Bluepaw changed her pace, preparing to leap.

  Suddenly the squirrel sprang upward. A wooden fence loomed ahead and the squirrel disappeared over the top. Too late, Bluepaw slowed to a halt, her flank slamming into the fence.

  Mouse dung!

  Frustration surged through her.

  Where am I?

  She sniffed the air. This wasn’t ThunderClan territory. Warm, strange smells mixed with the sour tang of Thunderpath. Blinking, she realized she had crossed the border and was beside Twolegplace. She had been close to this area before while on border patrol, but had never strayed near the fence. She turned, her heart sinking. She wouldn’t dare follow the squirrel beyond there. No Clan cat was allowed to hunt outside the territory.

  “Hey!”

  A voice called down from above her.

  Spinning around, Bluepaw saw a fat ginger tom balanced on a branch overhanging the fence. She tensed, her hackles rising, but the tom just gazed at her with round, calm eyes.

  “You don’t live around here.” His voice was as soft as his pelt looked. He tipped his head to one side. “Are you one of those forest cats?”

  Bluepaw thought for a moment. Should she leave? What would her Clanmates say if she spoke to a kittypet? She began to back away.

  “Don’t go!” the tom called. “I want to know what it’s like.”

  “What what’s like?” Bluepaw echoed.

  “Being a forest cat.” The tom crept along the branch but didn’t climb down. “Who feeds you?”

  “We feed ourselves.”

  The tom stared blankly.

  “We hunt,” Bluepaw explained. Doesn’t he know anything?

  “Mice?”

  “And voles and squirrels.”

  “You just missed a squirrel,” the tom commented. “It came over the fence.”

  “I know.” Bluepaw flicked her tail crossly. Had this cat just watched it run past without even trying to catch it? Lazy mouse-brain!

  “It sounds like hard work,” the tom observed. “What do you do when it’s cold? Don’t you freeze?”

  “Our dens are warm.” Bluepaw wondered why she was bothering to answer such stupid questions.

  “Your dens?” The tom narrowed his eyes. “Are they like baskets?”

  “Baskets?” What was he talking about?

  “Bluepaw!”

  Pinestar’s sharp mew made her jump. What was the ThunderClan leader doing there?

  She spun around to see him stalking toward her. “I—I…” Hot with embarrassment, she tried to think of a good explanation for being there. She decided the truth would be simplest. “I was chasing a squirrel,” she confessed. “I didn’t realize I’d crossed the border.”

  Pinestar glared at her. “So why are you talking to a kittypet?” He flashed a warning glance at the tom. Was Pinestar going to attack? The tom gazed calmly back.

  He’s too dumb even to run away!

  “Come on!” Pinestar’s mew was harsh.

  Why was he so angry? She was only there by accident.

  “He started talking to me,” she defended herself.

  Pinestar hissed as claws scrabbled against wood and a second kittypet leaped from the fence to the tree branch and crouched beside the tom. This was a gray she-cat, even softer and plumper than the tom.

  Pinestar turned and shouldered his way past a bramble, beckoning Bluepaw with a sharp flick of his tail. She followed, glancing back at the cats.

  “My name’s Jake!” the tom called as she padded away. “Next time you can see my nest.”

  No way! Bluepaw shivered. She would never set paw in a kittypet nest!

  She hurried after Pinestar, wondering why he was still bristling. “Are kittypets dangerous?” she asked.

  “Dangerous?” He turned on her. “Don’t be a mouse-brain! We could have shredded that one!”

  “Why didn’t we?” she wondered.

  “He didn’t cross the border.” Pinestar padded on, the fur rippling along his spine.

  Bluepaw glanced back again, confused. Did kittypets ever cross the border? Why choose to stay in Twolegplace instead of living free in the forest? She wanted to ask Pinestar, but he was staring ahead, his gaze furious.

  “Don’t go there again,” Pinestar growled. “You’re a Clan cat, not a kittypet!”

  As they crossed back into ThunderClan territory, Bluepaw recognized Sunfall’s pelt flashing orange among the trees.

  “There you are!” The deputy hurried to meet them, looking relieved. Smallear and Sweetpaw were following, each carrying a fledgling. “We thought you’d gotten lost in Twolegplace,” he meowed.

  Bluepaw lashed her tail. “I’d never go there! I just got caught up in chasing that squirrel.” Did he think she was a mouse-brain like those kittypets?

  Bluepaw was acutely aware of the hopeful faces that watched the hunting patrol pad back into camp. Smallear and Sweetpaw had their tiny fledglings and Sunfall had caught a scrawny mouse near the top of the ravine. But she had caught nothing, and her ears twitched with guilt.

  “You’ll have to go out again at dawn,” Sunfall told her.

  She looked at her paws, ashamed. “I nearly caught a squirrel.”

  “Nearly doesn’t feed the Clan,” Sunfall reminded her.

  She had disappointed him. She just hoped Pinestar wouldn’t tell him she’d been talking to a kittypet instead of hunting. She glanced at the ThunderClan leader. He had padded to his den, and now his tail was disappearing through the lichen covering. He’d hardly said a word on the trek back.

  Speckletail stared at the meager pile of prey. “I’m just glad there are no kits to feed.” She glanced anxiously across the clearing to where Lionpaw and Goldenpaw were practicing battle moves, their pelts following the line of every bone. “But our apprentices still need to grow.”

  “I’ll catch something tomorrow,” Bluepaw promised. Even though newleaf was tantalizingly near, it would take a moon to fatten the Clan when prey started to run again. The only fat cat in ThunderClan now was Leopardfoot, whose belly seemed to swell while the other cats grew thinner. Bluepaw watched the mottled warrior, dozing beside the nettle patch in the weak leaf-bare sunshine. Was she secretly eating prey while she hunted? How come she was so plump when every other cat was hollow with hunger?

  The gorse barrier shivered as Thistlepaw padded in wi
th Adderfang. The spike-furred apprentice looked even more smug than usual. Bluepaw scowled. He was holding a shrew in his jaws. He carried it to the fresh-kill pile and dropped it, flicking his tail with a flourish.

  Big deal! Bluepaw wanted to tell him that a bitter shrew wouldn’t fill his Clanmates’ bellies; it would only wrinkle their tongues.

  Snowpaw nosed her way out of the apprentices’ den. She must have heard Thistlepaw return. But to Bluepaw’s surprise, Snowpaw ignored him. “Catch anything?” She was heading for Bluepaw.

  Bluepaw shook her head. “Sunfall says I have to go out again at dawn.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Bluepaw blinked. Snowpaw hadn’t hunted with her in a moon. “You don’t have to,” she mewed. She didn’t want her sister’s pity.

  “I want to,” Snowpaw replied. “We haven’t been out together for ages.”

  Bluepaw’s claws pricked with suspicion. “Are you fighting with Thistlepaw?”

  “No.” Snowpaw sat down, her ears pricked as though surprised. “I can be friends with both of you, you know!”

  Bluepaw shrugged, unconvinced. As long as Snowpaw didn’t expect her to be friends with Thistlepaw, that was just fine.

  The clattering of branches woke Bluepaw. Cold dawn light filtered into the den, and the ferns rustled in the wind. She fought the urge to tuck her nose under her paw and go back to sleep. She’d promised Sunfall. Shivering, she nosed Snowpaw, curled in the nest beside her. “Do you still want to come hunting?” she whispered.

  Lionpaw, Goldenpaw, and the others were still fast asleep, their gentle snores filling the den.

  Snowpaw raised her head and blinked open her eyes. “Of course.” She yawned and stretched, arching her back till her legs quivered.

  Bluepaw gave her chest and paws a quick wash to wake herself up, then tiptoed out of the den. The wind outside prickled against her fur and roared in the branches overhead. She tensed against the cold. Please let us catch something, she prayed to StarClan.

  The clearing was empty. Outside the gorse tunnel, Thrushpelt huddled against the barrier as he stood guard, pelt fluffed up and ears flattened against the chilly wind. “You’re up early.” He shivered.

  “Hunting,” Bluepaw mewed.

  “May StarClan guide your paws!” Thrushpelt called after them as they headed for the ravine.

  As they scrambled up the rocky cliff, the wind tugged their fur. At the top it roared like the Thunderpath, shaking the trees to their roots.

  “Which way?” Bluepaw asked.

  “What?” Snowpaw raised her voice against the wind.

  “Where shall we hunt?” Bluepaw called louder.

  “The forest’s thickest near the ShadowClan border,” Snowpaw suggested. “Let’s try there.”

  She bounded into the trees, and Bluepaw followed. The thick trunks creaked around them as they ran, and the forest floor felt damp and cold underpaw. They slowed as the forest began to thicken. Bluepaw gazed into the branches in hopes of a bird they could track, and Snowpaw scanned the drifts of old leaves for signs of scurrying prey. Suddenly Bluepaw caught a scent.

  “Rabbit!” she whispered.

  “What?” Snowpaw’s eyes opened wide. Rabbits were rare in the forest; they lived on the moorland.

  Excitement pulsed through Bluepaw as she tasted the air; it was definitely rabbit. It would feed half the Clan! She whipped her head around, searching the scrub.

  There!

  A white tail bobbed underneath a bramble.

  She pressed Snowpaw into a crouch with her tail and began to creep forward over the damp forest floor. The rabbit bobbed out from under the bush and headed along a small trail between a swath of ferns. Bluepaw and Snowpaw followed, quickening their pace as the rabbit began to pick up speed. Had it caught their scent? Something must have spooked it, because it broke into a dash and began racing through the forest.

  Bluepaw pelted forward. She wasn’t going to lose this one.

  It dived under bushes and through patches of bracken. Bluepaw swerved and skidded, keeping up, the white bobtail always in sight. She was going to catch it. She could almost taste it. The forest sloped upward as a bank reared ahead of them. She would have it by the time it reached the top!

  All of a sudden the rabbit disappeared down a hole.

  Bluepaw skidded to a halt. “Mouse dung!”

  “We have to follow it,” she told Snowpaw as her sister caught up.

  “Down there?” Panting, Snowpaw stared down the dark opening in the bank.

  They had been taught never to follow prey underground. Only StarClan knew what might be waiting in the darkness, and some burrows went on so far it would be easy to get lost and never find a way out.

  Bluepaw sniffed at the hole. “The air smells fresh,” she announced. “There must be another hole nearby. Maybe it just darted through and popped out somewhere else.”

  Snowpaw stared, unconvinced.

  “We have to catch it!” Bluepaw insisted. “It’s the best piece of prey the Clan has found in moons.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she squeezed into the hole.

  CHAPTER 15

  As Bluepaw scrambled into the darkness, cold earth pressed against her flank. She could hear rabbit paws scrabbling ahead. Blind in the blackness, she followed her nose, feeling the sides of the tunnel with her whiskers. The scent of rabbit was so strong, her mouth watered. It drew her on, even though the burrow sloped downward into the dark, airless earth.

  I have to catch that rabbit. Losing the squirrel still pricked her conscience. She pushed away the fear growing in her belly.

  “We should go back,” Snowpaw whispered behind her, “before we get lost.”

  “We can’t get lost,” Bluepaw hissed. “There’s only one tunnel.”

  She padded onward, relieved when the burrow began to slope upward and the fresh scents of forest began to mingle once more with the musty odor of rabbit and soil. She could taste stone and lichen and the tart tang of pines. They were near Snakerocks.

  Daylight filtered into the tunnel ahead, and she quickened her pace. Once out in the open the rabbit could head anywhere, and its scent would be hard to follow in such windy weather. Bluepaw burst from the burrow and paused to taste the air as Snowpaw popped out behind her.

  “Can you see it?” Bluepaw whispered, concentrating on the flavors bathing her tongue. Her pelt pricked. She could smell rabbit.

  She could also smell blood.

  And the stench of fox.

  “StarClan help us!” Snowpaw’s terrified gasp sounded behind her.

  Across the small clearing in front of them Bluepaw saw the fox. It stood with its bony shoulders squared, the rabbit dangling dead in its jaws.

  A fierce gust of wind shook the trees and the forest flashed with lightning. It lit up the fox, throwing his shadow against the dark wall of Snakerocks. Thunder cracked. The fox snarled and dropped the rabbit, turning its hungry gaze toward them.

  “Run!” Snowpaw’s shriek sent Bluepaw pelting up the bank, with Snowpaw’s white pelt flashing a tail-length behind. There was no way Bluepaw was letting the fox pursue them underground, in its own territory.

  They hurtled through the trees, ducking through brambles and swerving around bracken.

  “It’s following us!” Snowpaw’s mew was a terrified whimper.

  Bluepaw could hear the fox thundering after them, its paws shaking the ground. She didn’t dare look back. She could hear it slither on leaves, only tail-lengths behind, never pausing for a moment. The forest was lit up again as lightning flashed and thunder exploded overhead. Bluepaw shrieked as she felt hot breath on her heels and pushed on faster. The stench of fox breath bathed her, and she heard its jaws snap a whisker from her tail.

  Up ahead, Snowpaw plunged over the ravine.

  It would never follow them down there!

  Bluepaw hurtled after, relief flashing as she sent stones rattling down the rocks. A thump sounded behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. br />
  The fox had jumped down after them! It was racing along the trail, a tail-length behind.

  “StarClan save us!” Bluepaw wailed, praying her Clanmates would hear and come to their rescue. Slithering down a boulder she crashed after Snowpaw, who ducked out of her way and pelted the last length down the tumble of stones.

  “Come on!” she screeched.

  But Bluepaw was already half sliding, half falling down behind her.

  Nearly there!

  The camp entrance was within sight. They would be safe beyond the gorse tunnel.

  Panic shot afresh through Bluepaw.

  What if it follows us through?

  Lionpaw and Goldenpaw would be playing in the clearing. They would be easy prey for a fox.

  She had led it there. She must stop it.

  As Snowpaw pelted through the gorse tunnel, shrieking a warning, Bluepaw skidded to a halt and turned.

  The fox leaped at her and she reared on hind legs, ready to swipe at its snarling jaws. She didn’t think about being brave or risking her life. She just knew the fox could not reach the camp.

  The sky flashed and a great crack sounded tail-lengths above. Bluepaw looked up.

  Lightning!

  A splintered branch fell between her and the fox and crashed onto the forest floor, alive with licking yellow flames. The fox yelped in surprise as the branch barely missed it. It whirled around in panic and scrambled back up the ravine.

  Her heart pounding, Bluepaw stared at the branch. It crackled in front of her nose, the heat searing her whiskers and scalding her muzzle. Frozen with shock, she stared until teeth grasped her scruff and tugged her back.

  “You’ll get yourself killed!” Sunfall’s growl brought her to her senses as he spat out her neck fur.

  “The gorse barrier will catch light!” Speckletail’s panicked mew sounded from behind. The Clan cats were streaming from the camp, their eyes wide with horror. The branch was burning so ferociously, Bluepaw felt her pelt tingle. If the gorse caught fire, the flames would sweep through the camp, engulfing every den.

  “StarClan help us!” Smallear’s desperate cry rose above the crackling flames.

  Please! Bluepaw begged silently.