Bluestar's Prophecy (25 page)

Bluefur hooked the dead mouse absently
on her claw and let it fall onto the ground again with a damp
plop
. She had no appetite. Even the smell of fresh-kill made her queasy. Lying alone at the edge of the clearing, she studied her Clanmates through half-closed eyes. They were sharing tongues before tonight’s Gathering, murmuring cheerfully to one another as if Snowfur had never existed, though it was only half a moon since her death. Even Whitekit had started to stray more and more from Robinwing’s side and was playing Pounce with Tigerkit outside the nursery.

Bluefur rolled the mouse underneath her paw, caking it with dust.

Tawnyspots got to his paws and padded from the knot of warriors sharing prey beside the nettle patch. He glanced at the mouse. “That’s wasted fresh-kill now,” he observed. His tail was twitching. “Sunstar wants you to go to the Gathering.”

Bluefur sighed.
Well, I don’t want to go
. It was a long trek and the evening was chilly.
And who made you my mentor? I’m a warrior now, remember?

“It’s time you started making an effort.” Tawnyspots looked sternly at her. “I’ve spared you from as many border patrols and hunting parties as I can, but all you do is mope around the camp. Perhaps if you started to act more like a Clan cat, you might feel better.” He glanced toward Whitekit, who was struggling to pin Tigerkit to the ground. “And you could show a little more interest in Whitekit.”

Bluefur stared blankly at her kin. Robinwing was taking good care of him. He didn’t need her. And the Clan seemed to be thriving without her help. After a rich greenleaf, they looked as sleek and well fed as RiverClan.

A low growl sounded in Tawnyspots’ throat. “You used to spend every spare moment with Whitekit. Now you never set paw in the nursery. He must feel like he’s lost two mothers instead of one.”

Bluefur scowled at him. Why was he trying to make her feel worse?

He went on. “Thistleclaw hasn’t let grief stop him caring for his Clan. And he’s spending more time with Whitekit, not less.”

“Good for him,” Bluefur muttered.

“What makes you so special that you can get away without doing anything for your Clan?” Tawnyspots demanded.

I lost my sister!
Bluefur bit back the reply though she wanted to wail it to the darkening sky. Instead she hauled herself to her paws. “Nothing makes me special,” she growled. “I’ll go to the Gathering if it makes you happy.”

Tawnyspots turned away and signaled with his tail.
Lionheart and Goldenflower, recently made warriors, were already at the camp entrance. They circled impatiently while the older warriors gathered.

Tigerkit bounced over, his dark brown tail sticking straight up. He was starting to lose his fluffy kit fur, and broad, powerful shoulders and long legs were emerging from his stumpy body. “Can I come?” he called. “I’ll be an apprentice in a moon.”

“Kits don’t go to Gatherings,” Tawnyspots reminded him.

Tigerkit rushed over to Lionheart and batted at his shoulder with his front paws. “You will tell me everything when you get back, right?”

“You’ll be asleep when I get back,” Lionheart purred.

“No, I won’t. I’m going to stay awake.”

Leopardfoot, who was joining the patrol to Fourtrees for the first time since she’d kitted, shook her head. “You’d better be sound asleep when we get back. Robinwing will want some peace after having you rascals charging around all day.”

“We’ve been outside for
ages
,” Tigerkit objected.

“And who’s been keeping an eye on you to make sure you don’t get into mischief? Robinwing said she had to get you out of the warriors’ den three times.”

Tigerkit shrugged. “We wanted to see what it was like. Anyway, I’m not tired, so why is Robinwing?”

Leopardfoot gave up and turned to Adderfang. “Do you think he’d be less argumentative if his father were still around?” she sighed.

Adderfang’s whiskers twitched. “I don’t think any cat
could influence that young tom. He’s going to make a great warrior.”

Leopardfoot’s eyes glowed. “I know.”

Dappletail brushed against Bluefur as she joined her Clanmates. Patchpelt dipped his head to her, and Rosetail stood beside her as though she were an apprentice who needed guiding. Bluefur pulled away. There was nothing any of her Clanmates could do to ease her pain. She wished they wouldn’t bother.

The forest was crisp. For the first time since greenleaf, Bluefur remembered what it was like to shiver with cold as a chill wind rustled the branches. As the cats padded through the forest, Featherwhisker caught up to her. He’d come without Goosefeather this time. No one said it out loud, but there was a feeling in the Clan that the old medicine cat could no longer be trusted to mix with the other Clans. His words and actions had become too unpredictable.

Featherwhisker stared ahead. “She’ll be watching you,” he murmured.

Bluefur knew he was talking about Snowfur. She glanced up through the branches at Silverpelt. What use was her sister up there? Her Clan needed her down here. “Have you seen her in your dreams?”

Featherwhisker shook his head. “Not yet. But I know Snowfur would never stop looking out for you and for Whitekit.”

Bluefur couldn’t see what good that would do any of them.

Featherwhisker let his pelt touch hers. “Whitekit will need your help to learn how to make the right choices, and how to care for his Clan like a true warrior.”

“He has Robinwing and Leopardfoot,” Bluefur reminded him, “and Swiftbreeze.” The tabby warrior had only just kitted. Spottedkit, Redkit, and Willowkit hadn’t even opened their eyes yet.

“They’ll care for him,” Featherwhisker agreed. “But you are the only cat in ThunderClan who can begin to take Snowfur’s place. You are his kin.”

“So is Thistleclaw.”

“Thistleclaw will teach him how to be a fierce warrior,” Featherwhisker murmured. “But who will teach him that softness and strength can exist together? And that loyalty to the Clan comes from the heart, not through teeth and claws?” The medicine cat apprentice went on ahead, his paws silent on the forest floor, leaving Bluefur to walk alone with her thoughts.

Trailing after her Clanmates as they padded through the silver forest, Bluefur glanced again at the stars. She tried to imagine Snowfur looking down from beside Moonflower. But the stars looked like tiny fragments of ice sparkling in distant blackness. Pretty to look at, but useless. Utterly, utterly useless.

The moon shone over Fourtrees like a cold white eye. ShadowClan and RiverClan already mingled in the clearing. WindClan hared down from the moorland as ThunderClan arrived. Excited voices shared news, and purrs warmed the chilly night air. Bluefur watched her Clanmates melt into
the crowd, feeling far, far away.

“Got your paws wet recently?”

A deep, familiar mew made her turn.

Oakheart!

Instantly she remembered her last conversation with Snowfur.
He’ll cause nothing but trouble!
She’d been right about that.

“Don’t you have any friends in your own Clan?” she snapped.

Oakheart stepped back, surprised. “I heard about Snowfur,” he meowed. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s it got to do with a RiverClan cat?” she spat.

For once the RiverClan warrior seemed lost for words. He stared at her for several moments, then murmured, “I’d be lost if anything happened to Crookedjaw.”

“You’ve got no idea.” Bluefur marched away, furious. How dare he pretend to know what she felt?

“Isn’t it great?”

Bluefur had nearly crashed into Goldenflower.

The young ginger warrior was staring at the assembled cats with wide, glowing eyes. “I’ve never seen so many cats at a Gathering before!” she went on. Then she caught Bluefur’s eye and stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“Oakheart’s been sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong,” Bluefur growled.

“Ignore him,” Goldenflower advised. “He’s so full of himself that he’s got no room left for brains.”

Bluefur snorted. “That just about describes the smug fleabag!”

“Look!” Goldenflower stared up at the Great Rock as the leaders bounded to the top. “They’re starting!” She hurried away, pushing through her Clan to get to the front. Bluefur was happy to loiter at the back.

Rosetail sat down beside her. “WindClan’s looking plump.”

Bluefur hadn’t noticed, but now she realized that the moorland cats did seem healthy and well fed for once. “I hope they don’t get too fat to catch rabbits,” she muttered. “We don’t want them thieving from the forest again.”

Rosetail nudged her. “Don’t be so grumpy.”

Sunstar was addressing the Clans. “ThunderClan has three new kits.” Murmurs of appreciation spread through the Clan. “And two new warriors.” The ThunderClan leader gazed down at his Clanmates. “Lionheart and Goldenflower.”

The two young cats pricked their ears and straightened their whiskers as the Clans called their names. As the cheers died away, Sunstar went on with his report.

“We chased a fox back into Twolegplace and halted the kittypet intrusions.”

Bluefur wondered if any of the patrols had seen Pinestar since he’d left.

“ShadowClan has a new medicine cat.” It was Cedarstar’s turn. He nodded toward the thick-furred, flat-faced gray she-cat that Bluefur had noticed several moons ago, at a previous Gathering. “Yellowfang will work alongside Sagewhisker from now on.”

Bluefur narrowed her eyes. Like Hawkheart, Yellowfang
had been a warrior first. That made for a dangerous combination, in her experience. Medicine cats should never study the skills of battle; they should be trained only to heal and help their Clanmates.

Hailstar nodded respectfully. “Welcome, Yellowfang.”

“May StarClan light your path,” Sunstar meowed.

Heatherstar padded forward. “I pray that your ancestors guide you wisely in your duties.”

Bluefur’s gaze drifted to the foot of the Great Rock. To her surprise, Raggedpelt, the ShadowClan deputy, was narrowing his eyes at Yellowfang. The gray she-cat shot him a look sharper than flint. Had the two Clanmates just quarreled? Bluefur twitched her ears. Yellowfang didn’t look like she’d be easy to get along with. Bluefur didn’t envy ShadowClan, having to put up with her as their medicine cat after Sagewhisker.

Heatherstar began her report. “WindClan has thrived this greenleaf. We have never seen so many rabbits on the moor, and we’ve made the most of StarClan’s bountiful gift.”

Hailstar stepped forward. “RiverClan, too, has enjoyed rich prey. The river has been full of fish and its banks stocked with prey.” He glanced down at his Clan and Bluefur realized the RiverClan leader was looking straight at Oakheart. “Only one cloud shadows our horizon.” He nodded to the RiverClan warrior. “Oakheart has more information.”

Bluefur snorted as Oakheart bounded onto the Great Rock. “He has no right to be up there,” she hissed to Rosetail.

Clearly other cats agreed. Shock murmured through the Clans.

“I am sorry,” Oakheart began, his voice carrying clearly across the hollow. “I do not belong here, but with so many cats I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to hear me from down there.” He nodded to the shadowy base of the rock. “I hope you will forgive my boldness. I do not mean to offend.” The murmuring ceased. Ears pricked up and muzzles were raised to hear what the young RiverClan warrior would say next.

“Smooth as a snake,” Bluefur growled.

“I know,” Rosetail breathed, “and so handsome.”

“You don’t actually think—”

“Hush!” Rosetail cut her off. “He’s speaking.”

“Twolegs have set up a camp on our land. Their nests are small, and they keep changing as new Twolegs come and old Twolegs go. During greenleaf, I led the patrols that monitored the intrusion.” His mew was calm and clear. His gaze brushed the Clans, holding the attention of every cat. “We wanted to discover the Twolegs’ intentions, whether this was the beginning of a bigger invasion or the start of a new Twolegplace. As far as we can tell, the new camp exists to house Twolegs without proper nests. They bring their own dens, made of soft flapping pelts, and take them away when they leave. Though they stray from their camp and have become quite a nuisance on one stretch of the river, for the most part they seem peaceful and prefer to head out of RiverClan territory. So far no Twoleg has come near RiverClan’s camp. But we have plans in place to distract them if they should.”

Mews of approval sounded from the Clans.

“Wise idea,” Adderfang murmured.

Talltail of WindClan nodded to one of his Clanmates. “Sounds like they’re handling the situation well.”

Hailstar finished the report as Oakheart slid unobtrusively from the rock. “The Twolegs are coming less often now that leaf-fall is here. Let us hope that the freezing leaf-bare weather will drive them away altogether.”

“Wow.” Rosetail leaned against Bluefur. “Why don’t we have a warrior like that in ThunderClan?” she sighed.

Bluefur pretended she didn’t know what Rosetail meant. “Like Hailstar?”

“No, mouse-brain!” Rosetail nudged her. “Like Oakheart.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, he’s
RiverClan
. There may be a truce, but we’re still supposed to be loyal to our own Clanmates.” Bluefur felt oddly uncomfortable hearing Rosetail mooning over the RiverClan warrior.
Am I jealous?
She pushed the thought away quickly. The leaders were jumping down from the Great Rock. It seemed that the rich greenleaf had brought harmony to the Clans, and there was nothing more to discuss. Perhaps they’d be home before Tigerkit was asleep after all.

Bluefur padded up the slope, pulling ahead of her Clanmates. She didn’t want to hear any more praise for the young RiverClan warrior. She wanted to push Oakheart out of her mind. If it wasn’t for him, Snowfur would be alive. And yet the memory of his gaze in the moonlight lingered in her mind. Bluefur recalled what she had said to Snowfur beside the river:
RiverClan can’t be all bad, can they? I mean, they must be cats like us.

Paw steps sounded at her tail as Sunstar caught up. “Are you in a hurry to get home?” he asked, puffing slightly.