Bluestar's Prophecy

  “Can’t move fast enough out of the water, fish-face?” Bluefur taunted him.

  The tom hissed and lunged for her, but Rosepaw darted under his belly and threw him off balance. Snowfur had already sent the other tom pelting into the undergrowth. His Clanmate staggered to his paws to face three hissing she-cats, and Bluefur felt a surge of satisfaction as panic filled his gaze. He backed toward the roots as they advanced.

  “Do you think you can take on all three of us?” Snowfur challenged.

  “He could try,” Rosepaw growled.

  “He looks pretty mouse-brained.” Bluefur felt power surge through her paws, but she pressed down the urge to attack. This warrior was outnumbered; they could easily beat him.

  Which means we should let him escape.

  She flashed a warning glance at her Clanmates, hoping they understood. Snowfur nodded and stepped aside, leaving a gap in their ranks. Without hesitating, the RiverClan warrior pelted through it and fled toward the border.

  As Bluefur slid back through the brambles, she saw Sunfall kick out with his hind legs and send a RiverClan warrior reeling. Bluefur dived out of the way just in time as the RiverClan warrior tumbled past her.

  “Retreat!” Shellheart yelped, and the remaining RiverClan warriors turned and fled. Their deputy paused, his eyes gleaming. “The rocks are still ours!”

  “But never the trees,” Sunfall snarled in return.

  Exhilarated, Bluefur chased the retreating warriors to the border.

  “We’ll have the rocks back, too, one day!” Thistleclaw yowled as RiverClan splashed across the river, made shallow by greenleaf.

  Sunfall lifted his muzzle. One of his ears was torn, and blood dripped onto his cheek. “Well fought.” He gazed around at his Clanmates. “Any serious injuries?”

  Bluefur remembered her wrenched claw, which was throbbing and swollen underneath. It hurt, but it could wait till she got back to camp.

  “Just a few scratches,” Thrushpelt reported.

  “Ottersplash bit me,” Patchpelt complained. “I’m going to smell of fish for days.”

  Bluefur stiffened when she noticed Snowfur’s white pelt stained with blood. “Are you okay?” she gasped.

  Snowfur looked at the streaks. “It’s not my blood.”

  Relieved, Bluefur flicked her tail across Snowfur’s ears.

  “They won’t be back in a hurry,” Thistleclaw crowed.

  Stormtail was still watching the river, his eyes dark. “They shouldn’t have tried it in the first place,” he snarled. “They already have Sunningrocks.”

  “Come on,” Sunfall meowed briskly. “Let’s report back to camp.”

  Bluefur followed her sister into the trees. Ears pricked, she overheard Stormtail muttering to Sunfall. “They’ll be back,” he growled. “We lost their respect when we gave up Sunningrocks without a fight.”

  “That was Pinestar’s decision,” Sunfall meowed evenly.

  “Maybe,” Stormtail hissed, “but he should be around to back it up.”

  “Yes, where is Pinestar?” Sunfall meowed, as if he’d only just noticed the Clan leader hadn’t taken part in the battle. “Why didn’t he lead your patrol?”

  Stormtail shrugged. “You’d better ask Pinestar that, because no one else in ThunderClan seems to know where he is.”

  Bluefur felt the familiar unsettling tingle in her paws. Something was wrong with Pinestar. Something was very wrong indeed.

  CHAPTER 23

  “We drove them off,” Sunfall announced to the waiting Clan as soon as the patrol filed into the camp through the gorse tunnel.

  Adderfang padded forward. “No other RiverClan activity in the area,” he reported. “We’ve searched thoroughly.”

  “Thank you.” Sunfall dipped his head.

  Bluefur only half heard the exchange. Her eyes were drawn to Sweetpaw’s small, bony body lying in the center of the clearing. Poppydawn and Dappletail had smoothed her fur and arranged her paws under her, just as the Clan had done with Moonflower. The exhilaration of the battle was instantly swallowed up by grief. Bluefur stood and watched numbly as Rosepaw padded past and crouched beside her sister. Thistleclaw walked stiffly over and gave Sweetpaw a final lick between her ears. “I’ll help bury her after the vigil,” he murmured to Poppydawn.

  Featherwhisker padded from the medicine den carrying a bundle of herbs. Goosefeather shambled behind him. Featherwhisker placed the herbs at Goosefeather’s paws. “Will you chew these into a pulp while I check for wounds?” He addressed his mentor gently, as if he were talking to a frail, troubled elder.

  Goosefeather was staring at the nursery and didn’t seem to hear him.

  Featherwhisker pushed the herbs a little closer. “We’ll need lots of comfrey pulp,” he prompted. He glanced at the returning patrol. “It looks like there were plenty of scratches.”

  Goosefeather blinked. “Comfrey?” he echoed.

  Featherwhisker nodded, tapping the herbs with his paw. Goosefeather blinked; then, bending down, he began to chew at the leaves. Featherwhisker strolled briskly among the wounded. He inspected Thistleclaw first. “That’s a deep scratch.”

  “It’s nothing.” Thistleclaw shrugged. “I don’t feel pain.”

  “You’ll feel it if it gets infected.” He turned to Goosefeather. “Did we bring tansy?”

  Goosefeather sniffed through the leaves and nodded.

  “Go to Goosefeather,” Featherwhisker told Thistleclaw. “Ask him to rub some tansy in your wound.” When Thistleclaw hesitated, Featherwhisker glanced down at Sweetpaw’s body. “You’ll need it treated if you want to be able to help bury your sister.”

  Thistleclaw dipped his head and padded over to the medicine cat.

  Featherwhisker checked Snowfur. “Go wash in the stream,” he advised. “It smells like RiverClan blood, and licking it off will make you queasy.”

  “Yuck. Fish.” Snowfur shuddered and hurried out of the camp.

  Bluefur lifted her wrenched claw as Featherwhisker approached and held it out for him to inspect. Featherwhisker wrinkled his nose. “Painful,” he sympathized. “But it’ll heal quickly if you rest it.”

  It stung like fury, but Bluefur didn’t want to admit it after Thistleclaw had acted so brave.

  “Get comfrey pulp from Goosefeather,” Featherwhisker instructed. “It’ll ease the pain.”

  “Thanks.” Bluefur limped to the medicine cat. She wondered if he was thinking about the prophecy, measuring it against her role in the battle. She hadn’t exactly blazed like fire through the forest, but she’d done all right.

  Goosefeather eyed her strangely and pushed a wad of pulp toward her.

  “Is that comfrey?” Bluefur checked.

  “What else would I give you for a wrenched claw?”

  How did he know what she needed, when so much else seemed to pass him by these days? Bluefur smeared the ointment onto her claw.

  “Pinestar!” Sunfall’s mew made her whip around.

  The ThunderClan leader was padding in through the gorse tunnel.

  Dappletail and Poppydawn looked up from Sweetpaw’s body. Adderfang lifted his head, and Stormtail narrowed his eyes. The whole Clan fell silent as Sunfall stepped forward, his bloodied ear glistening in the morning sun.

  “Where were you, Pinestar?” the ThunderClan deputy asked.

  Pinestar didn’t answer at once. “Did you win?”

  Sunfall nodded. “We chased those fish-faces back as far as the river. They still have Sunningrocks—that is a battle for another day—but they won’t set foot across the border for a while.”

  A growl rumbled in Stormtail’s throat.

  “Good,” Pinestar meowed. He padded across the clearing and jumped onto Highrock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather to hear what I have to tell you!”

  Bluefur looked at Rosepaw, puzzled. Shouldn’t Sunfall make his report about the battle first?

  Lionpaw padded over to join them, staring at his paws. Was he sulking becaus
e he’d missed the battle?

  No. Lionpaw didn’t sulk. If he had something he wanted to say, he’d just say it. A shiver ran down Bluefur’s spine. The suspicion she’d felt since she’d caught him chasing butterflies nagged harder. Lionpaw knew something about their leader.

  Pinestar gazed down at his Clan. They hadn’t moved, just turned to look curiously at him. Pinestar looked tired, his eyes dull with grief. Bluefur leaned forward, her stomach hollow.

  “Cats of ThunderClan,” Pinestar began, and his voice echoed around the silent clearing until his words bounced off the trees and the rocks. “I can no longer be your leader. From now on, I will leave the Clan and live with housefolk in Twolegplace.”

  Around the clearing, pelts bristled and the air crackled with tension.

  Stormtail curled his lip. “You’re going to be a kittypet?”

  Sunfall stared at him in disbelief. “Why?”

  Adderfang dug his claws deep into the earth.

  “How could you?” Poppydawn burst out, gazing at him wide-eyed from beside her daughter’s body.

  Pinestar bowed his head. “I have been honored to serve you this long. The rest of my life will be spent as a kittypet, where I have no battles to fight, no lives depending on me for food and safety.”

  “Coward.” Adderfang’s ears were flat.

  Pinestar shifted his paws. “I have given eight lives to ThunderClan—each of them willingly. But I am not ready to risk my ninth.”

  Weedwhisker called from the nettle patch. “What could be more honorable than to die for your Clan?”

  “You would live among StarClan.” Poppydawn stroked her tail along Sweetpaw’s pelt. “And share tongues with Clanmates you have lost.”

  Pinestar sighed. “I am doing this for ThunderClan, I promise.”

  “You’re doing it for you,” Stormtail growled.

  Lionpaw stepped forward. His legs were trembling and he looked as scared of speaking up as he would be of taking on a ShadowClan warrior, but he lifted his chin determinedly. “Do we really want a leader who no longer wishes to lead?” he challenged.

  Bluefur stared at the young cat. He wasn’t just brave; maybe he had a point. If she were leader, she would gladly give her Clan all nine of the lives bestowed on her by StarClan. Did she want a reluctant leader? Did her Clanmates? Around her, warriors were murmuring to one another, shooting rabbit-swift glances at Pinestar as if they no longer recognized him.

  Pinestar padded to the side of Highrock as if he was ready to jump down. “Sunfall will lead you well, and StarClan will understand,” he meowed.

  “The other Clans might not,” Sunfall warned. “You won’t be able to come back to the forest, you know.”

  Pinestar let out an amused huff. “Oh, I can imagine the names they’ll call me. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the leaders suggests an addition to the warrior code, that all true warriors scorn the easy life of a kittypet. But you’ll make ThunderClan as strong as it ever was, Sunfall. My last act as leader is to entrust my Clan to you, and I do so with confidence.”

  Sunfall dipped his head. “I am honored, Pinestar. I promise I will do my best.”

  Pinestar sprang down the smooth gray rock. He stared at his Clan, and though no fear showed in his eyes, Bluefur guessed he was wondering if they’d let him leave without a fight. After all, he was a kittypet now.

  Sunfall stepped forward and touched Pinestar’s flank with the tip of his tail. “You have led us well, Pinestar,” he meowed.

  Larksong padded stiffly to her leader’s side, her eyes dark with sorrow. “We will miss you.”

  White-eye tucked her tail over her paws. “Sunfall will make a good leader,” she declared, looking around for agreement.

  Murmurs of acceptance rippled through the Clan, though Stormtail and Adderfang kept a stony silence. As Pinestar wove among his Clanmates for the last time, Thistleclaw flinched away. Bluefur felt a flash of irritation with his lack of respect. Did he think wanting to be a kittypet could be caught as if it were greencough?

  Or was he right? Was abandoning the position of Clan leader a betrayal that could never be forgiven?

  She fought down the urge to back away as Pinestar approached them and paused beside Lionpaw.

  “Thank you,” Pinestar murmured.

  Lionpaw dipped his head.

  “You were right,” Pinestar went on. “I had to tell the Clan myself. It would not have been fair to them, or to you, to do anything else. You have a good spirit, young one. When it is time for you to receive your warrior name, tell Sunfall I would have called you Lionheart.”

  Bluefur cocked her head. So Lionpaw had known what Pinestar was up to. And he had kept it secret out of loyalty to his leader. She was impressed.

  Leopardfoot stepped forward. “Pinestar, what about our kits? Won’t you stay to watch them grow up?” She nodded to the three tiny cats beside her. She had coaxed them out of the nursery when she heard Pinestar’s announcement. The two she-cats slumped on the ground with glazed eyes, but Tigerkit, his shoulders already broad and strong beneath his fluffy pelt, pounced on his father’s tail.

  Pinestar gently drew it away. “They’ll be fine with you, Leopardfoot. I’m not a father they could be proud of, but I will always be proud of them. Especially you, little warrior,” he added, bending down to touch his muzzle to the dark tabby’s ears.

  Tigerkit gazed up at him with huge amber eyes and growled, showing tiny thorn-sharp teeth.

  “Be strong, my precious son,” Pinestar murmured. “Serve your Clan well.”

  He nodded, then padded softly into the gorse tunnel and disappeared.

  The Clan began to chatter like a flock of startled crows.

  “We have no leader!” Speckletail’s pale tabby pelt bristled with worry.

  “Sunfall is our leader now,” Tawnyspots pointed out.

  “But he hasn’t been blessed by StarClan,” Sparrowpelt fretted.

  Sunfall jumped up onto Highrock. “I understand your fears,” he called. “I will travel to the Moonstone tonight.”

  Goosefeather was staring at him, horror sparking his gaze. “StarClan will never allow it!” The disheveled old medicine cat was trembling. “Pinestar should have shared dreams with them first, told them what he was planning. How will you receive nine lives if Pinestar has not properly given up his leadership?”

  Behind her, Bluefur heard Adderfang murmur: “Isn’t it about time Goosefeather thought about giving up his own role?”

  Weedwhisker replied, “Steady, young ’un. He’s served the Clan well for many moons. Don’t turn against him now.”

  There was a shuffling sound as Larksong wriggled into a more comfortable position. “I’ll talk to him,” she whispered. “See if I can persuade him to join us in our den. Featherwhisker is plenty able to take his place now.”

  “He’s more than able!” hissed Robinwing. “He’s been doing most of the medicine cat duties on his own for StarClan knows how long! We should have stopped listening to the raddled old fleabag moons ago.”

  “Hush!” came a fierce whisper from Tawnyspots. “Show some respect!”

  In the center of the clearing, Featherwhisker stepped forward. “I will come with you to the Moonstone, Sunfall.”

  A murmur passed through the Clan, and Bluefur wondered if he’d overheard the elders talking about inviting Goosefeather to give up his duties and join them beneath the fallen tree. The old medicine cat was standing with his fur on end and his eyes mad, glaring at nothing. It seemed like it might be a kindness to set him free from his responsibilities and let his denmate take over.

  “Our ancestors will not abandon us at this troubled time,” Featherwhisker went on. “Have faith.”

  Sunfall nodded to the young medicine cat. “Yes, we will. We must,” he promised. His tail was flicking, and Bluefur guessed he was feeling as if he’d jumped into the river, unable to touch the bottom with his paws—but his mew was firm. “We will make them understand that ThunderClan needs a leader. Featherw
hisker is right: StarClan will not abandon us.”

  Bluefur pressed against Snowfur. “I hope he’s right,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER 24

  As the sun set the following day, Bluefur was on her way to find Snowfur with a vole to share when she nearly tripped over Thistleclaw, dozing beside the nettle patch. He had sat up all night with Sweetpaw’s body, Rosepaw and Poppydawn grieving beside him, and then buried her before dawn.

  “He insisted on doing it himself, with no help,” Snowfur whispered to Bluefur when she made it safely around the sleeping warrior with the vole. “He’s such a loyal brother.”

  “You told me earlier,” Bluefur muttered. She was trying to ignore the dreamy look in her sister’s eyes. I’ll never behave like a cooing dove over any cat, she decided.

  As the Clan shared tongues at the edges of the clearing, Bluefur basked in the cool evening breeze. She was relieved that the fierce greenleaf sun was disappearing behind the top of the ravine. She didn’t envy Sunfall and Featherwhisker their parched journey from the Moonstone today. If all went well, they would be back soon, hungry and thirsty.

  She was just sitting up to check whether there was some decent fresh-kill left for them when stones clattered down the side of the ravine beyond the gorse tunnel. Adderfang got to his paws and stared expectantly at the entrance to the camp. Stormtail gulped the last of his mouse and licked his lips. Larksong sat up stiffly and pricked her ears.

  Bluefur tasted Sunfall’s scent a moment before he padded into camp with Featherwhisker following.

  Speckletail was the first to speak. “What did StarClan say?” she blurted out, getting to her paws.

  Sunfall padded across the clearing and mounted Highrock. All eyes turned to the orange warrior, who already looked comfortable on the gray stone. “Clanmates,” Sunfall began, “StarClan has approved me as leader and given me nine lives.”

  Cheers erupted from the Clan. “Sunstar! Sunstar! Sunstar!” they called to the darkening sky.

  “Sunstar!” Bluefur yowled gleefully, feeling a rush of pride in her former mentor. Then something caught her eye, and she closed her mouth with a snap.