Bluestar's Prophecy (2 page)

Bluestar skidded to a halt at
the top of the slope; the stench of dogs hit her throat. Below, the ferns shook as dark shapes swarmed through the gully. Fireheart’s orange pelt flashed like flame through the greenery. He was keeping a good distance between himself and the pack, but the lead dog was breaking away and closing fast on the ThunderClan deputy.

No! Not that one! You cannot use him as prey!

Bluestar flung herself down the slope. Gulping air, muscles burning, she weaved around the trees, her paws skidding on the leafy forest floor. She hurtled through a swath of ferns, running blind as the leaves whipped her face. The gorge was close by. She could hear the river crashing between the sheer gray walls. Would Fireheart really be able to lure the dog pack over the edge? What if the pack’s leader caught him first?

She erupted from the bracken and scrabbled to a stop in a clearing at the edge of the cliff. Leaves sprayed into the chasm as her paws slipped and slid.

Oh, StarClan, no!

Fireheart was dangling from the glistening jaws of a huge dog. The ThunderClan deputy struggled, spitting with fury.
The dog shook him, its eyes shining with triumph, but its clumsy paws were skittering dangerously close to the edge of the gorge.

“I will not let you destroy my Clan!” Bluestar roared. She flung herself at Fireheart’s tormentor, slamming headfirst into its flank.

The dog dropped Fireheart and spun around in surprise.

Bluestar crouched and unsheathed her claws. Blood roared in her ears but she felt no fear. She had not felt this alive for moons. She lashed out at the dog’s muzzle, but her claws raked empty air. The dog was sliding away from her! The ground beneath its hind legs was crumbling. Shards of stone showered down the steep face of the gorge as the dog’s paws scrabbled to get a grip, but its blunt claws were slithering on the leaf-strewn forest floor as its haunches dragged its hind legs backward over the cliff.

The pack thundered closer.

“Bluestar!” Fireheart warned.

But Bluestar didn’t take her eyes from the pack leader. She was locked in its panicked gaze as dogs began to crash through the bracken behind her.

The pack was upon them.

Bluestar dug her claws into the soft earth as the air suddenly soured with fear. The lunging dogs had seen the gorge, and their howls turned to yelps as they skidded at its edge. Bluestar held her ground as a desperate yowl echoed down the chasm. The first dog had fallen. Its body thumped against the cliff, and there was a moment of quiet before she heard it
splash into the roaring water below.

Bluestar narrowed her eyes, still fixed on the pack leader. “You should never have threatened ThunderClan!” she hissed.

Suddenly the dog stretched its head forward and grasped her foreleg in its jaws. She felt the ground slide beneath her as the dog dragged her with it over the edge. Wind roared around her, blasting her pelt as she fell. The river swirled and foamed below. She scrabbled desperately against the cold wet air and struggled free of the dog just a moment before she hit the water.

The freezing river knocked the breath from her body. Blind, she struggled against the current, fighting her way toward air, her heart gripped by panic. Goosefeather’s prophecy burned in her mind:
Water will destroy you
.

Her thick fur, heavy with water, dragged her down. The river tumbled all around her; she didn’t know which way was up. Her lungs screamed for air. Terror scorched through her. She was going to drown, there in the foaming waters of the gorge.

Don’t give up!
A meow sounded clear and familiar through the roar of the water.

Oakheart?

The father of her kits was murmuring in her ears:
It’s like running through the forest. Let your paws do the work. Raise your chin. Let the water carry you up
.

His voice seemed to lift her, calming her panic, and she found that her paws were churning steadily through the water. Her heart, tight with pain, slowed as she strained to raise her
chin, until at last the wind whipped her face. Coughing and gagging, she snatched a gulp of air.

That’s the way
, Oakheart whispered in her ear.

His voice sounded so gentle, so welcoming. Perhaps she should just let the river sweep her away into the softness of his fur.

Bluestar, swim! Head for the bank!
Oakheart’s mew was sharp now.
Our kits are waiting
.

Our kits!
The thought of them hit her like a lightning bolt.

You can’t leave them without saying good-bye
.

Energy surged through Bluestar, and she began to fight once more. A dark shape buffeted her, knocking her underwater again, but she struggled to the surface, spluttering as water filled her mouth and caught in her throat. The rolling body of a dog tumbled past her and was swept downstream.

If a dog can’t fight this current, how can I?

The treetops blurred overhead as the river swirled her along.

You can do it!
Oakheart urged. Bluestar churned at the water, but her exhausted legs felt like sodden leaves, flailing uselessly.

Suddenly teeth grasped her scruff. Was Oakheart going to drag her to safety? Bluestar blinked water from her eyes long enough to glimpse orange fur.

Fireheart!

The ThunderClan deputy had gotten hold of her.

“Keep your head up!” he growled through clenched jaws.

Bluestar tried to help him, but her pelt was heavy and her
paws were too tired to fight the weight of water. Fireheart’s teeth tore at her scruff as the water dragged her down.

Then another body brushed hers.

One of the dogs?

More teeth bit her scruff. Paws clutched at her flanks, heaving her upward.

She felt the strong, gentle movement of cats around her. Was StarClan carrying her to its hunting grounds?

Barely conscious, she let herself be dragged through the water until pebbles scraped her flank and she felt solid earth beneath her. Paws and teeth heaved her up the gritty shore and laid her on soft grass. Her chest felt as if it were packed with stones, making each breath a struggle. Her eyes stung, too filled with water to see.

“Bluestar?”

She recognized the mew of Mistyfoot.
What about Stonefur? Is he here, too?

“We’re both here.” A strong paw pressed against her flank.

Oakheart had been right. Their kits had been waiting for her.

Bluestar fought to open her eyes. She could just make out the shape of Stonefur. His wide shoulders were silhouetted against the green canopy of trees.
So much like his father
. Mistyfoot stood beside him, her sodden pelt clinging to her frame.

Bluestar felt breath on her cheek.

“Is she okay?” came the voice of her daughter.

Fireheart was leaning in. “Bluestar, it’s Fireheart. You’re all right now. You’re safe.”

Bluestar hardly heard him. She was gazing at her kits. “You saved me,” she murmured.

“Shhh. Don’t try to talk,” Mistyfoot urged.

But there’s so much to say!
Bluestar stretched her muzzle forward. “I want to tell you something…. I want to ask you to forgive me for sending you away.” As she coughed, water bubbled at her lips, but she forced herself to keep going. “Oakheart promised me Graypool would be a good mother to you.”

“She was,” Stonefur meowed flatly.

Bluestar flinched. “I owe her so much.” She wished she had more breath to explain. “Oakheart, too, for mentoring you so well.” Why hadn’t she found a way to tell them this before? “I watched you as you grew up, and I saw how much you had to give to the Clan who adopted you. If I had made a different choice, you would have given all your strength to ThunderClan.” She shuddered, struggling for air. “Forgive me.”

She stared at her kits, and time seemed to halt as she watched Mistyfoot and Stonefur exchange an uncertain glance.
Please forgive me
.

“She suffered a lot of pain for her choice,” Fireheart pleaded for her. “Please forgive her.”

Stop it!
Forgiveness would mean nothing if it had to be dragged from them. She willed Fireheart to hold his tongue.

Mistyfoot bent her head and licked Bluestar’s cheek. “We forgive you, Bluestar.”

“We forgive you,” Stonefur echoed.

Bluestar closed her eyes as her two kits began to lap at her drenched pelt. It was the first time she had shared tongues
with them since the snowy day she had left them with Oakheart.

There was no more need to cling to her last life. Firestar would kindle a new flame and blaze through the forest in her place. ThunderClan was safe. She closed her eyes and gave way to dizzying blackness.

“
Shouldn’t she have opened her eyes
by now?”

“Hush, Swiftbreeze. She’s only a day old. She’ll open them when she’s ready.”

Bluekit felt the rasp of her mother’s tongue on her flank and nestled closer to Moonflower’s milk-warm belly.

“Snowkit opened hers this morning,” Swiftbreeze reminded her. “And my two had theirs open from almost the moment they were born.” The she-cat’s tail stirred her bedding. “Leopardkit and Patchkit are natural warriors.”

A soft purr sounded from a third queen. “Oh, Swiftbreeze, we all know that no kit can compete with your two,” Poppydawn gently teased.

A small paw poked Bluekit’s side.

Snowkit!

Bluekit mewled with annoyance and snuggled closer to Moonflower.

“Come on, Bluekit!” Snowkit whispered in her ear. “There’s so much to look at and I want to go outside, but Moonflower won’t let me till you’re ready.”

“She’ll open her eyes in her own time,” Moonflower chided.

Yes. In my own time
, Bluekit agreed.

Waking, Bluekit could feel the weight of her sister lying on top of her. Moonflower’s belly rose and fell rhythmically beside them. Swiftbreeze was snoring, and Poppydawn wheezed a little as she breathed.

Bluekit heard Leopardkit and Patchkit chattering outside.

“You be the mouse and I’ll be the warrior!” Patchkit was ordering.

“I was the mouse last time!” Leopardkit retorted.

“Were not!

“Was!”

A scuffle broke out, punctuated by squeaks of defiance.

“Watch where you’re rolling!” came the cross meow of a tom, silencing them for a moment.

“Okay, you be the warrior,” Patchkit agreed. “But I bet you can’t catch me.”

Warrior!

Bluekit wriggled out from under her sister. A newleaf breeze stirred the bramble walls and drifted through the gaps—the same fresh forest smell her father had carried in on his pelt when he’d visited. It chased away the stuffy smell of moss and milk and warm, sleeping fur.

Excitement made Bluekit’s claws twitch.
I’m going to be a warrior!

For the first time, she stretched open her eyes, blinking
against the shafts of light that pierced the bramble roof. The nursery was huge! In darkness, the den had felt small and cozy, but now she could see the brambles arching high overhead, with tiny patches of blue beyond.

Poppydawn lay on her side near one wall, a dark red tabby with a long bushy tail. Bluekit recognized her because she smelled different from Swiftbreeze and Moonflower. There was no milk scent on her; she didn’t have any kits yet. Swiftbreeze, in a nest beside her, was hardly visible—curled in a tight ball with her nose tucked under her tail, her tabby-and-white pelt blotchy against the bracken underneath.

The most familiar scent of all came from behind. Wriggling around, Bluekit gazed at her mother. Sunshine dappled Moonflower’s silver-gray pelt, rippling over the dark stripes that ran along her flank. Her striped face was narrow, and her ears tapered to gentle points.
Do I look like her
? Bluekit looked over her shoulder at her own pelt. It was fluffy, not sleek like Moonflower’s, and was dark gray all over, with no stripes.
Not yet
.

Snowkit, lying stretched on her back, was all white except for her gray ear tips.

“Snowkit!” Bluekit breathed.

“What is it?” Snowkit blinked open her eyes. They were blue.

Are mine blue?
Bluekit wondered.

“You’ve opened your eyes!” Snowkit leaped to her paws, wide-awake. “Now we can go out of the nursery!”

Bluekit spotted a hole in the bramble wall, just big enough
for two kits to squeeze through. “Patchkit and Leopardkit are already outside. Let’s surprise them!”

Poppydawn raised her head. “Don’t go far,” she murmured sleepily before tucking her nose back under her tail.

“Where are Poppydawn’s kits?” Bluekit whispered.

“They won’t arrive for another two moons,” Snowkit answered.

Arrive?
Bluekit tipped her head to one side.
Where from?

Snowkit was already heading for the hole, scrambling clumsily over Moonflower. Bluekit tumbled after, her short legs uncertain as she slid down her mother’s back and landed in the soft moss.

The nest rustled and Bluekit felt a soft paw clamp her tail-tip to the ground. “Where do you think you are going?”

Moonflower was awake.

Bluekit turned and blinked at her mother. “Outside.”

Moonflower’s eyes glowed and a loud purr rolled in her throat. “You’ve opened your eyes.” She sounded relieved.

“I decided it was time,” Bluekit replied proudly.

“There, Swiftbreeze.” Moonflower turned, waking the tabby-and-white queen with her satisfied mew. “I told you she’d do it when she was ready.”

Swiftbreeze sat up and gave her paw a lick. “Of course. I was only thinking of my own kits—they opened their eyes sooner.” She swiped her paw across her muzzle, smoothing the fur on her nose.

Moonflower turned back to her kits. “So now you’re going out to see the world?”

“Why not?” Bluekit mewed. “Leopardkit and Patchkit are already out there.”

“Leopardkit and Patchkit are five moons old,” Moonflower told her. “They’re much bigger than you, so they’re allowed to play outside.”

Bluekit opened her eyes very wide. “Is it dangerous?”

Moonflower shook her head. “Not in the camp.”

“Then we can go!”

Moonflower sighed, then leaned down to smooth Bluekit’s fur with her tongue. “I suppose you have to leave the nursery sometime.” She studied Snowkit. “Straighten your whiskers.” Pride lit the queen’s amber gaze. “I want you to look perfect when you meet the Clan.”

Snowkit ran a licked paw over each spray of whiskers.

Bluekit looked up at her mother. “Are you coming with us?”

“Do you want me to?”

Bluekit shook her head. “We’re going to surprise Patchkit and Leopardkit.”

“Your first prey.” Moonflower’s whiskers twitched. “Off you go, then.”

Bluekit bounced around and sprinted for the gap.

“Don’t get under any cat’s paws!” Moonflower called after them as Bluekit barged ahead of her sister and headed through the hole. “And stay together!”

The brambles scraped Bluekit’s pelt as she wriggled out of the nursery. When she tumbled onto the ground beyond, sunshine stung her eyes. She blinked away the glare, and the
camp opened out in front of her like a dream. A vast, sandy clearing stretched away to a rock that cast a shadow so long it almost touched her paw tips. Two warriors sat beneath the rock, sharing prey beside a clump of nettles. Beyond them lay a fallen tree, its tangled branches folded on the ground like a heap of skinny, hairless legs. Several tail-lengths away from the nursery a wide, low bush spread its branches over the ground. Ferns crowded a corner at the nursery’s other side, and behind them rose a barrier of gorse so tall that Bluekit had to crane her neck to see the top.

Excitement thrilled through her. This was her territory! Her paws prickled. Would she ever know her way around?

There was no sign of Patchkit or Leopardkit.

“Where’ve they gone?” she called to Snowkit.

Snowkit was staring around the camp. “I don’t know,” she meowed absently. “Look at that prey!” She was staring at a heap of birds and mice at the side of the clearing. It was topped by a fat, fluffy squirrel.

“The fresh-kill pile!” Bluekit bounced toward it, her nose twitching. She’d heard the queens in the nursery talking about prey, and she’d smelled squirrel on her mother’s fur. What would it taste like? Thrusting her nose into the pile, she tried to sink her claws into a small creature with short brown fur and a long, thin tail.

“Watch out!”

Snowkit’s warning came too late. Bluekit’s paws buckled as the plump squirrel rolled off the top of the pile and flattened her.
Ooof!

Purrs of amusement erupted from the two warriors beside the nettle patch. “I’ve never seen fresh-kill attack a cat before!” meowed one of them.

“Careful!” warned the other warrior. “All that fluff might choke you!”

Hot with embarrassment, Bluekit wriggled out from under the squirrel and stared fiercely at the warriors. “It just fell on me!” She didn’t want to be remembered as the kit who was jumped on by a dead squirrel.

“Hey, you two!” Bluekit recognized Patchkit from his nursery-scent as he padded out from behind the nursery. “Does your mother know you’re outside?”

“Of course!” Bluekit spun around to see her denmate for the first time.

Oh.

She hadn’t expected Patchkit to be so big. His black-and-white fur was smooth like a warrior’s, and she had to tip her head back to look up at him. She stretched her legs, trying to appear taller.

Leopardkit scampered after her brother, swiping playfully at his tail. Her black coat shone in the sunshine. She stopped and stared in delight when she saw Bluekit and Snowkit. “You’ve opened your eyes!”

Bluekit licked her chest, trying to smooth down her fluffy fur and wishing her pelt were as sleek as theirs.

“We can show you around,” Leopardkit mewed excitedly.

Snowkit bounced around the older kit. “Yes, please!”

Bluekit flicked her tail crossly. She didn’t want to be
shown
her territory. She wanted to explore it for herself! But Leopardkit was already trotting toward the wide patch of ferns near the gorse barrier. “This is the apprentices’ den,” she called over her shoulder. “
We’ll
be sleeping there in a moon.”

Snowkit raced after her.

“Are you coming?” Patchkit nudged Bluekit.

Bluekit was gazing back at the nursery. “Won’t you miss your old nest?” She felt a sudden flicker of anxiety. She liked sleeping next to Moonflower.

“I can’t wait to move into my new den!” Patchkit yowled as he darted toward the apprentices’ den. “It’ll be great to be able to talk without Swiftbreeze telling us to be quiet and go to sleep.”

As Bluekit hurried after him, the ferns trembled and a tortoiseshell face poked out between the green fronds.

“Once you start your training,” yawned the sleepy-looking apprentice, “you’ll be glad to get some sleep.”

“Hello, Dapplepaw!” Patchkit skittered to a halt outside the den as the tortoiseshell she-cat stretched, half in and half out of the bush.

Bluekit stared at Dapplepaw’s pelt, thick and shiny; the muscles on the she-cat’s shoulders rippled as she sprang from the ferns and landed beside Patchkit. Suddenly Bluekit’s denmate didn’t seem so big after all.

“We’re showing Bluekit and Snowkit around the camp,” Leopardkit announced. “It’s their first time out.”

“Don’t forget to show them the dirtplace,” Dapplepaw joked. “Whitepaw was complaining only this morning about
cleaning out the nursery. The place has been filled with kits for moons, and there’s more on the way.”

Bluekit lifted her chin. “Snowkit and I can keep our nest clean now,” she declared.

Dapplepaw’s whiskers quivered. “I’ll tell Whitepaw when she gets back from hunting. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear it.”

Is she teasing?
Bluekit narrowed her eyes.

“I can’t wait to go hunting!” Patchkit dropped into a crouch, his tail weaving like a snake.

Quick as the wind, Dapplepaw pinned it down with her paw. “Don’t forget to keep your tail still or the prey will hear you swishing up the leaves.”

Patchkit pulled his tail free and straightened it out, flattening it to the ground.

Snowkit stifled a purr. “It sticks out like a twig,” she whispered in Bluekit’s ear.

Bluekit was watching too intently to reply. She studied how Patchkit had pressed his chest to the ground, how he’d unsheathed his claws and tucked his hind paws right under his body.
I’m going to be the best hunter ThunderClan has ever seen
, she vowed.

“Not bad,” Dapplepaw congratulated Patchkit, then glanced at Leopardkit. “Let’s see your hunting crouch.”

Leopardkit instantly dropped and pressed her belly to the ground.

Bluekit longed to try it, but not until she’d practiced by herself. “Come on, let’s leave them to it,” she whispered to Snowkit.

Snowkit stared at her in surprise. “Leave them?”

“Let’s explore by ourselves.” Bluekit saw a chance to slip away unnoticed.

“But it’s fun hanging out with…”

Bluekit didn’t hear any more; she was already backing away. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted a low, spreading bush beside the nursery. Patchkit and Leopardkit wouldn’t find them there. She spun around and dashed for the bush, diving under a branch. As she caught her breath, she tasted lots and lots of different scents clinging to the leaves. How many cats were there in ThunderClan? Did they really all fit in the camp?

The branches shook, and Snowkit crashed in after her.

“I thought you weren’t coming!” Bluekit squeaked in surprise.

“Moonflower told us to stay together,” Snowkit reminded her.

Together they peeped out to see if Leopardkit, Patchkit, and Dapplepaw had noticed their escape. The three cats were staring at the nursery, looking puzzled.

Dapplepaw shrugged. “They must have gone back to their nest.”

“Never mind.” Patchkit paced around Dapplepaw. “Now you can take us to the sandy hollow like you promised.”

Sandy hollow? What’s that?
Bluekit suddenly wished she’d stayed with the others.

“I never promised!” Dapplepaw protested.

“We’ll be in trouble if we get caught,” Leopardkit warned. “We’re not supposed to leave the camp until we’re apprentices, remember?”

“Then we won’t get caught,” Patchkit mewed.

Dapplepaw glanced uncertainly around the clearing. “I’ll take you to the edge of the ravine,” she offered. “But that’s all.”

Jealousy burned Bluekit’s pelt as she watched Dapplepaw lead Leopardkit and Patchkit toward the gorse barrier and disappear through a gap at the base.

Maybe we can follow them and see where they go
….

Suddenly a muzzle nudged her hindquarters and sent her skidding out from her hiding place. Her sister tumbled after her, and a gray tabby face peered out at them from under the leaves.