Bluestar's Prophecy

  The storm crashed overhead and rain pelted down, driving through the canopy, pounding the bushes, thundering on the forest floor. The branch crackled and hissed as the rain doused the flames, until nothing but a charred log fizzled in front of the astonished Clan.

  “Wow!” Lionpaw’s excited mew broke the silence.

  “What are you doing out here?” Speckletail shooed him inside.

  “I wanted to see it burn!” he complained.

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  Slowly Bluepaw realized that Sunfall was talking to her. She dragged her gaze from the branch and stared blankly at her mentor. Her heart slowed as she took a huge gulp of air. It stank of smoke and made her cough.

  “Come on,” Sunfall meowed. “Let’s get you to Goosefeather.”

  “I’m here.” The medicine cat was standing at the entrance of the tunnel, his eyes round, the fur bristling along his spine. He seemed mesmerized by the smoke rising from the extinguished branch, and his mew sounded far away. “I’ll take her to the medicine den.” Wordlessly he escorted her to his soft, grassy clearing. “Wait here,” he murmured, disappearing into the crack in the rock.

  As her shock eased, Bluepaw’s whiskers and muzzle began to sting. She backed away when Goosefeather returned holding an ointment-soaked leaf in his jaws. “Will it hurt?” she asked.

  “It will soothe the pain,” he promised softly.

  She held still as he gently smeared the ointment over her muzzle. His eyes seemed to be searching hers, but she couldn’t figure out what he was trying to see.

  “Will I be scarred?” she asked nervously.

  Goosefeather shook his head. “The fur on your nose is just singed,” he reassured her. “It’ll grow back in a moon.”

  Then why were his eyes glittering with worry?

  Maybe I’m imagining it.

  Suddenly Goosefeather leaned closer. “Like fire, you will blaze through the forest,” he hissed.

  “What?” Bluepaw flinched away. Had he gone mad?

  “The burning branch was a sign from StarClan.” His eyes glittered. “You are fire, Bluepaw, and you will blaze through the forest.”

  Alarmed, Bluepaw backed away. What was he talking about?

  “But beware!”

  She stiffened.

  “Even the most powerful flames can be destroyed by water.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m telling you what the burning branch meant,” he growled.

  Don’t be silly! This was the cat who had told his Clan that a vole’s fur meant they should attack WindClan, and look what had happened!

  Snowpaw came bounding in. “Are you all right?” She sniffed at Bluepaw’s nose, wrinkling her own. “What did he put on it?”

  “Comfrey and honey.” Goosefeather’s voice had returned to normal. “It’ll soothe the pain and stop infection.”

  “You were so brave,” Snowpaw mewed. Her tail was flicking excitedly as she circled Bluepaw. “I couldn’t believe it when I ran into the camp and you weren’t with me! I thought the fox had got you. But when I came out again there you were facing it! And then the branch fell down and you didn’t move! You looked like a real warrior!”

  “Hush!” Goosefeather silenced her. “Weedwhisker’s in that nest.” He nodded to a gap hollowed in the ferns. “He’s recovering from bellyache. I don’t want him to be disturbed.”

  Snowpaw dipped her head. “Sorry.”

  “Out, both of you!” Goosefeather ordered briskly. It was as though he hadn’t mentioned a prophecy at all. Bluepaw wondered if she’d imagined it, or if he was just playing a joke on her. She turned and followed Snowpaw from the den. As she padded down the fern tunnel, a voice sounded in her ears. “You are fire, Bluepaw. Fear water.”

  She whipped around to see if Goosefeather was following, but his speckled gray back was only just visible at the far side of the clearing as he checked on Weedwhisker. Spooked, Bluepaw hurried to catch up to Snowpaw.

  Stormtail was waiting for them in the clearing. His eyes gleamed as Bluepaw joined them. “You faced a fox!” He sounded genuinely pleased, but his expression darkened as he went on. “But you’re not a warrior yet, so no more fox-fighting on your own.”

  Before Bluepaw could respond, Lionpaw raced over with Goldenpaw on his heels.

  “I wish I’d been outside. I would have fought off that fox.” He fluffed up his fur and growled.

  Snowpaw’s whiskers twitched in amusement, but Bluepaw’s mind was on Goosefeather’s bizarre prophecy. Could it really be true?

  You are fire? You will blaze through the forest?

  Did that mean she would one day lead ThunderClan? And how could water destroy her? She wasn’t a RiverClan cat. She would never go near water, apart from jumping the smallest stream.

  Stormtail’s mew broke into her thoughts. “Adderfang’s leading a patrol to make sure the fox has gone. Stay in camp until they report back.”

  Bluepaw nodded as Stormtail turned and padded away.

  “Are you okay?” Snowpaw’s concerned mew broke into her thoughts. “Did Goosefeather give you anything for the shock?”

  Bluepaw shook her head.

  “Something’s bothering you.”

  Bluepaw scanned the camp, looking for a quiet corner where they could talk. Perhaps Snowpaw could help her make sense of Goosefeather’s words.

  “Come with me.” She led Snowpaw to the nursery and slipped behind it.

  “What is it?” Snowpaw sat down. “Why are we hiding?”

  “I wanted to ask you about something.” Bluepaw wondered how she could tell Snowpaw about the prophecy when she wasn’t even sure of it herself.

  Snowpaw leaned forward, lowering her voice. “What?”

  “Do…” Bluepaw searched for the right words. “Do you think…” This is impossible! “Do you think I’m…special?”

  Snowpaw broke into a purr. “Well, of course! You’re the best sister in the world!”

  Bluepaw shook her head, frustrated. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What else could you mean? Is there something wrong with you? Did Goosefeather find something when he checked your burns?”

  Bluepaw dug her claws in the ground. She would have to be direct. “Goosefeather said the burning branch was a sign.”

  “A sign?” Snowpaw’s eyes grew wide as an owl’s. “From StarClan?”

  Bluepaw nodded.

  “What did it mean? What did he tell you? Does Pinestar know?” Snowpaw blasted her with questions.

  “He said that I would blaze through the forest like fire.”

  “He’s mad as a hare!”

  “But what if he’s right? Do you think it means I…stand out somehow?”

  “I don’t even know what that means!” Snowpaw backed away, looking alarmed now. “And you know what his prophecies are like. It was his stupid prophecy that killed Moonflower. You don’t actually believe him, do you?”

  “He also said that water would destroy me.”

  Snowpaw flattened her ears. “He’s got no right to scare you like that! How dare he?” The fur rose on her shoulders. “Don’t take any notice. His prophecies are worthless. You won’t be destroyed by water! You’re not a RiverClan cat. How could water harm you? Don’t listen to a word of it!”

  Shocked, Bluepaw stared at her sister. Was it really so impossible that she was special? What was wrong with believing she might one day lead the Clan? Snowpaw had seemed eager enough to hear about the prophecy until she found out it involved Bluepaw. “You don’t believe it, then?”

  Snowpaw tipped her head to one side. “Goosefeather’s an idiot,” she meowed. “Take no notice. Don’t let it worry you.”

  Worry me? Why couldn’t she see? If this prophecy is true, it might be the most important thing that has ever happened to me.

  But Snowpaw had moved on. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about, too.”

  Bluepaw blinked. “Okay.”

  “It’s about Thistlepaw.?
??

  Thistlepaw?

  “I wish you would make more of an effort to like him.”

  “Why? He likes himself enough for both of us.” Bluepaw stiffened. “In fact, you like him enough for the both of us.”

  “Don’t be like that.”

  Bluepaw was already turning away. “I don’t have to like that arrogant weasel just because you do,” she mewed.

  “Bluepaw!” Snowpaw called after her, but Bluepaw didn’t want to hear. Why couldn’t they be like they were in the battle on Sunningrocks, when they had fought side by side, closer than two blades of grass, each looking out for the other? Couldn’t Snowpaw at least try to understand how Bluepaw felt about Goosefeather’s prophecy? Angrily Bluepaw padded back to the clearing. She had wanted to talk about what those words might mean, not to discuss Thistlepaw.

  Am I really destined to lead ThunderClan?

  CHAPTER 16

  “Bluepaw, from this moment you will be known as Bluefur. StarClan honors your bravery and your strength, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan. Serve your Clan well.”

  Bluefur fought to keep her paws still as Pinestar touched her head with his muzzle and her Clanmates began to cheer.

  “Bluefur! Snowfur! Bluefur! Snowfur!”

  Snowfur pressed against her. “We’re warriors!” she whispered excitedly.

  Happiness flamed like a shooting star inside Bluefur. She looked around the Clan at the familiar faces, proud to be part of them, warmed by the kindness shining in their eyes. Stormtail stood up beside Dappletail, and lifting his chin, he called his daughters’ names loudly to the darkening sky.

  He’s telling Moonflower. The thought stuck Bluefur’s heart like a honeyed thorn, soothing yet painful. If only Moonflower had been among her Clanmates to watch this moment.

  But she is among her Clanmates. In StarClan.

  The newleaf evening was warm, and the camp was filled with birdsong, as though even the birds were thankful for the warmth and new life that had sprung in the forest. The fresh scent of prey and new growth swirled on the breeze.

  “In the tradition of our ancestors, Snowfur and Bluefur will sit vigil until dawn and guard the camp while we sleep,” Pinestar announced.

  Bluefur dipped her head. As the Clan began to melt away into their dens, she noticed with relief that Weedwhisker was beginning to fatten up. He and Leopardfoot were always first at the fresh-kill pile now that it was rich with prey again.

  Leopardfoot had recently moved into the nursery while she waited to have Pinestar’s kits. It turned out that she hadn’t been eating extra prey to get fat after all. She took White-eye with her for company and to help chase away the chill that had crept into the bramble den, which had been empty for so long. The whole Clan was pleased that new kits were only a moon away.

  “It just doesn’t feel right when you can get all the way to the dirtplace without tripping over a kit or two,” Larksong had commented earlier.

  Even Mumblefoot was looking forward to kits. “It’s been moons since anyone attacked my tail,” he’d rasped wistfully.

  As the night seeped in, the clearing emptied out until only Bluefur and Snowfur were left alone in the dark. Silently they sat, Snowfur scanning the camp—eyes and body alert, clearly taking her oath to guard her Clanmates very seriously—while Bluefur gazed up at Silverpelt, wondering which of the countless stars was Moonflower.

  By the time dawn began to pale the sky, she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Her body was stiff from sitting so long. The lichen at the entrance to Pinestar’s den twitched, and the ThunderClan leader padded out. He glanced at the sky, washed pink by pale sunshine.

  “Get some sleep,” he meowed softly as he passed Bluefur and Snowfur.

  Relieved, Bluefur stretched.

  Snowfur yawned. “Where’s he off to so early?” she wondered as Pinestar slipped out the camp tunnel.

  “It’s newleaf,” Bluefur replied. “I guess even leaders enjoy a little dawn hunting once the prey starts to run.”

  Out of habit, she turned her paws toward the apprentices’ den. Teeth nipped her tail gently.

  “Hey, mouse-brain!” Snowfur purred. “We sleep here now.” She jerked her head toward the warriors’ den.

  Of course! Would nests be waiting for them? Suddenly nervous, Bluefur followed Snowfur under the low branch at the entrance and padded into the den. She blinked to let her eyes adjust to the gloom. The low roof made the den seem small, though it was broader than the apprentices’ den. Nests circled the central trunk and spiraled out to the edge. Sunfall, Stormtail, and Adderfang were curled in moss-lined scoops at the center, while Patchpelt and Thrushpelt slept farther out.

  Bluefur guessed that, as the newest warriors, their nests would be near the outer branches. But where? “Can you see any spaces?” she breathed in Snowfur’s ear.

  “Over here!” Patchpelt raised his head and hissed across the den.

  Carefully Bluefur picked her way around the sleeping warriors, her heart in her throat in case she stepped on a tail or a paw or rustled bracken and woke someone.

  “You can have Leopardfoot’s and White-eye’s.” Patchpelt nodded toward the two empty nests beside his.

  The bracken was as flat as a Thunderpath rabbit, and the moss smelled damp and stale when Bluefur leaned down to sniff it. But she didn’t care. Right now she was so tired and cold that she’d be happy to sleep anywhere. “Sleep well, Snowfur.” She relished using her sister’s warrior name. They could be friends again now that they had left the apprentices’ den—and Thistlepaw—behind them. They’d hunt together, patrol the borders to check for scent marks and invaders, and never, ever be closer to another cat.

  Snowfur touched her nose with her muzzle. “You too, Bluefur.”

  Happily Bluefur circled down into Leopardfoot’s nest and, purring, drifted into sleep.

  The other warriors were gone by the time Bluefur woke up. Snowfur was still sleeping, her breath stirring a tendril of grass that poked up through the bracken.

  Bluefur nudged her with a paw. “Wake up!”

  Snowfur sat up, her eyes bleary. “What?”

  Bright sunshine filtered through the dark needles above them.

  “It must be nearly sunhigh,” Bluefur observed.

  “Are we supposed to be on patrol?” Snowfur wondered.

  Bluefur shrugged. “No one told us.”

  Snowfur started lapping at her chest. “I’m going to look my best for my first day as warrior.”

  “Me too.”

  Bluefur’s tongue ached by the time she’d finished washing. She sat up proudly, knowing that her fur was smooth and clean and her tail fluffed up. A scrap of moss was clinging to Snowfur’s shoulder. “You missed a bit.” Bluefur leaned forward, nipped it out with her teeth, and spat it away. “Perfect.”

  Snowfur’s pelt looked as soft and white as a fawn’s belly.

  Bluefur led the way out of the den. The clearing was bright with sunshine. Blue sky stretched over the camp, and a warm breeze was swishing the bright green leaves in the trees above.

  “About time, too!” Sunfall’s sharp mew sounded across the clearing. He was frowning beside the nettle patch.

  Dismayed, Bluefur glanced at Snowfur. “Are you sure no one mentioned a patrol?” she whispered.

  Sunfall waited, tail flicking, as they padded toward him. “I don’t mind that you missed the dawn patrol,” he meowed. “But the hunting patrol had to leave without you, which means they’re short of paws and there’ll be less on the fresh-kill pile come sunset.”

  “But no one told us!” Bluefur cried. Why was he lecturing her like she was still an apprentice? The fur ruffled on her spine.

  “You’re warriors now,” Sunfall told her. “You shouldn’t need to be dug out of your nests to serve your Clan!”

  Bluefur stared at her paws, too ashamed even to glance at Snowfur. “Sorry.”

  “There’s something else you can do.”

  Bluefur was relieved to hear
Sunfall’s voice soften. She looked up. “What?”

  “Featherwhisker wants to gather catmint from Twolegplace.”

  Leaf gathering! Bluefur’s heart sank. This was going to be as disappointing as her first day as an apprentice.

  “He needs a warrior escort,” Sunfall went on.

  Bluefur pricked her ears. This was more like it.

  “There’s been more kittypet scent than usual around the border,” the ThunderClan deputy explained. “I don’t want him to go alone.”

  So! Kittypets could be dangerous. Bluefur began to understand why Pinestar had been so angry at finding her near the Twoleg fence. Jake didn’t look like he could win a fight with a mouse, but it could have just been an act to catch her off guard.

  Featherwhisker trotted from the fern tunnel, his eyes bright. “Are these my escorts?” He looked Bluefur and Snowfur up and down before nodding a greeting to Sunfall.

  Snowfur plucked at the ground. “Yes,” she meowed. “We’ll make sure no cat hurts you.”

  The medicine cat apprentice’s whiskers twitched. “Thank you.”

  “Are we going now?” Bluefur joined them.

  Featherwhisker glanced at the sky. “The dew should be burned off by now.”

  “Is that good?” Bluefur wondered.

  “It means the sprigs will be dry when we gather them, so they won’t rot in the store.” Featherwhisker was already heading for the camp entrance.

  Once in the forest, Bluefur fell in beside him while Snowfur trotted at his other flank. She scanned the trees, ears pricked for any danger. She was in charge of protecting a Clanmate.

  “Is it safe?” Featherwhisker asked.

  Was that a hint of a purr in his mew?

  “No danger here,” Snowfur reported.

  “What a relief,” meowed the medicine cat apprentice.

  The forest was filled with fresh scents as they headed for the border. It was hard to resist following the prey trails, but they had a duty to perform. Bluefur wasn’t going to let anything distract her. As they passed the sandy hollow, she spotted flashes of fur moving beyond the undergrowth. Sweetpaw and Rosepaw were practicing their battle moves. She wondered what Featherwhisker had felt when he had been told that he would be spending his time as an apprentice in a medicine den rather than in the sandy hollow.