Bluestar's Prophecy (28 page)

Dizzy with surprise, Bluefur hardly tasted the tang of the herbs as she grasped them in her jaws and padded unsteadily back to camp. Was this part of the prophecy? If only Snowfur were alive, she could talk to her about it. Snowfur might make sense of the medicine cat’s warnings. Even if she didn’t believe them, her honesty might help Bluefur untangle the jumble of emotions seething in her belly.

A sandy-gray pelt flashed through a swath of ferns ahead.

Thrushpelt.

“Hi!” He greeted her warmly. “Can I help?”

Her mouth full, Bluefur nodded and dropped some of her load. Thrushpelt picked it up and headed away to the ravine. Bluefur wondered if he’d been waiting for her. She felt a pang
of regret. Why couldn’t he spark the same feeling in her as Oakheart did?

They bounded down the ravine and took the herbs to the medicine den. Dropping them at Featherwhisker’s paws, Bluefur spotted Tawnyspots’s damp pelt poking from a nest hollowed from the fern wall. “Is he going to be okay?” she whispered.

“These herbs should help,” Featherwhisker replied.

Tawnyspots won’t die yet.
Goosefeather’s words rang in Bluefur’s ears. But there had been urgency in the medicine cat’s words. Tawnyspots wasn’t going to live forever, and she had to be ready.

Thrushpelt was waiting for her when she emerged from the fern tunnel. “So, who do you think will be our next deputy?”

Bluefur stared at him in shock. Had he overheard her talking with Goosefeather? “What?”

“Well, Featherwhisker only said the herbs would
help
. He didn’t say that Tawnyspots was going to be okay.”

He hasn’t heard anything. Thank StarClan
. “I guess.”

“Thistleclaw’s got his heart set on it,” Thrushpelt went on.

Am I the only cat in ThunderClan who’s afraid of Thistleclaw’s ambitions?

“But,” Thrushpelt mewed thoughtfully, “there are plenty of senior warriors to choose from. Adderfang is the logical choice.”

“Unless Sunstar prefers youth to experience.” Bluefur found herself using Goosefeather’s argument.

Thrushpelt glanced at her. “I hadn’t thought of that.” His
nose twitched as they neared the fresh-kill pile. Two juicy sparrows lay on top. “You hungry?”

Wasn’t Thrushpelt the slightest bit interested in becoming deputy? He certainly didn’t have Oakheart’s fire and ambition; it was clear from the way the RiverClan warrior had addressed the Clan from the Great Rock that he planned to be leader himself one day.

Bluefur shifted her paws, relieved to see Rosetail eating alone. “I’d better keep Rosetail company,” she meowed quickly and, grabbing a sparrow, hurried to join her friend.

She passed Stormtail and Dappletail in their usual spot beside the nettle patch, sharing a squirrel. They spent so much time together now that most of the Clan were waiting for an announcement about kits, but Bluefur had heard Poppydawn tell Swiftbreeze that some she-cats never had kits, however much they wanted them.

Bluefur continued through the camp. Sparrowpelt and Fuzzypelt were patching the nursery with freshly fallen leaves. Robinwing had brought Whitekit out of the nursery and was washing him.

“Hello, Bluefur!” he called, trying to duck away from Robinwing’s tongue, but Robinwing pulled him back and held him still with a firm paw.

Rosetail looked up as Bluefur approached. “I have
never
seen any cat look so disappointed.” She was gazing at Thrushpelt, who looked lost beside the fresh-kill pile.

“Shut
up
.” Bluefur flung her sparrow on the ground and lay down.

“What’s wrong with you?” Rosetail demanded. “I wish
I
had a cat following me around like that.”

“I don’t have time for a mate.”

Rosetail’s gaze sharpened. “You have your eye on the deputyship, don’t you?”

Bluefur’s ears burned. “So what if I do?”

Rosetail shrugged. “Well, not many cats get to be deputy, so don’t miss out on other things while you’re waiting.”

As she washed her face after her meal, Goosefeather padded into the clearing, burrs sticking from his pelt. He took a piece of fresh-kill and started wolfing it down.

“Does he have to eat so noisily?” Bluefur complained, feeling queasy. She tried to imagine Goosefeather as a fit young apprentice, but couldn’t. He’d probably been born a shambling old badger. It was hard to believe that he and Moonflower had been littermates.

Tigerpaw burst through the gorse tunnel, his eyes bright. Thistleclaw padded in after. They must have been training. Tigerpaw was still bursting with energy.

“Can we practice those battle moves again?” he asked his mentor.

“Practice by yourself for a while.” Thistleclaw padded to the fresh-kill pile.

“But who am I going to fight?” Tigerpaw called after him.

“Use your imagination,” Thistleclaw growled back.

Tigerpaw glanced around the clearing. Bluefur stiffened when the young apprentice’s gaze came to rest on Whitekit, dozing beside Robinwing in the afternoon sunshine. Relief
flooded her as his gaze moved on.

“I could fight a whole Clan of enemies,” he boasted to no cat in particular.

Poppydawn was dragging bracken across the clearing. She looked up. “RiverClan had better watch out,” she purred.

Leopardfoot trotted over from the warriors’ den. “You’re back,” she meowed happily. She sniffed her son’s pelt. “Any injuries?”

“Not yet.” Tigerpaw sounded disappointed. “But I learned a new move. Watch this!” He kicked his hind legs in the air, then landed with a twist and a slash of a forepaw.

Brindlekit and Frostkit had slid out of the nursery to watch the young tom. Frostkit’s eyes were huge and round with admiration.

“Very good!” Adderfang called from beside the nettle patch.

Stormtail nodded. “I couldn’t do better.”

Bluefur narrowed her eyes. The strength in the young tom’s shoulders was impressive and his claws seemed to have outgrown the rest of him. They’d left scars in the earth so deep it made her shiver.

Only Goosefeather didn’t look up to admire Tigerpaw. He hunched tighter over his fresh-kill. “I’m sorry, StarClan,” he muttered. “That cat should not have survived. This was never meant to happen.”

Startled, Bluefur looked around. None of the other cats seemed to have heard him. Only her.
Does Goosefeather believe that Tigerpaw should have died?

“Look!” Whitekit trotted across the clearing
and tossed a moss ball at Frostkit. “I found another one.”

Frostkit crouched, ready to pounce, but Brindlekit scooted past her and pawed the ball away. Spottedkit, Redkit, and Willowkit sat like three baby owls outside the nursery, their eyes fixed on the moss as the older kits tossed it back and forth.

Bluefur purred as it rolled to her paws. She hooked it up and held it high, making the kits jump for it.

Robinwing and Swiftbreeze lay dozing in the pale leaf-bare sun. Robinwing opened one eye. “Thanks for keeping them busy, Bluefur.”

“I enjoy it!” She tossed the moss ball into the air and watched the kits scramble for it.

It was easier to play with Whitekit now that Thistleclaw was out with Tigerpaw so much. He was working his apprentice hard, waking him before dawn and drilling him in the sandy hollow any time they weren’t patrolling or hunting. Tigerpaw had grown so quickly that he looked like a warrior after only a moon of training. Bluefur just wished he didn’t have to show off his battle skills in the camp quite so much.

“Teach me a battle move!” Whitekit begged her daily.

“You’re not old enough,” she would tell him. She was going to make sure he made it to warrior without any serious injuries. She owed it to him and to Snowfur.

“Throw it again! Throw it again!” Frostkit came bouncing back, the moss ball jiggling from her jaws. She dropped it at Bluefur’s paws and looked up pleadingly. “Please.”

Bluefur scooped it up and dangled it from a claw, her whiskers twitching as she watched the kits stare intently at the jerking clump of moss. Then she tossed it to the other side of the clearing and the kits hared away, kicking up dust.

“Bluefur?” Sunstar was padding toward her. “I want you to find Thistleclaw and Tigerpaw in the sandy hollow.” He glanced at the sun, rising high into the milky blue sky.

Bluefur cocked her head. “Why?”

Sunstar looked solemn. “I’ve been getting reports of kittypets crossing the border, and I want you to go with them to investigate.”

Bluefur knew exactly who’d made the reports. Thistleclaw had been spoiling for a fight with a kittypet for moons. Even more so since he’d become Tigerpaw’s mentor, as if he wanted to make sure Tigerpaw understood that kittypets were their enemies. Was he concerned that the young tom would follow in his father’s paw steps?

Bluefur dipped her head to the ThunderClan leader and headed toward the camp entrance.

Whitekit pounded after her. “Where are you going?”

“Just to check the border,” she explained.

“Is RiverClan invading again? Or ShadowClan?” Whitekit reared onto his hind legs and swiped at the air. Bluefur wondered whether he had learned that battle move from Tigerpaw.

“Just some kittypets sniffing around.”

“Are you going to shred them to pieces?”

“They’re just kittypets,” Bluefur told him. “A hiss should be enough to send them running.”

Whitekit sighed. “I wish I could come with you.”

“Another few moons and you will,” Bluefur promised. “Now run back and play with your denmates so Robinwing and Swiftbreeze can rest.”

Whitekit charged away, and Bluefur headed for the training hollow.

“Now lunge at me,” Thistleclaw commanded.

Bluefur could see the pair through the bushes just ahead of her.

Baring his teeth, Tigerpaw rushed at Thistleclaw, slamming into his flank. Thistleclaw turned and flung his apprentice away with a hefty blow that left Tigerpaw staggering.

“Mouse-brain!” Thistleclaw growled. “You should have seen that coming.”

Tigerpaw shook his head, looking dazed. “Let me try it again,” he begged.

Bluefur hurried forward to interrupt. She couldn’t watch such brutal training. She was sure Leopardfoot had no idea that Tigerpaw’s mentor was so rough with her kit. Should she
warn the ThunderClan leader what was going on?

She shivered, thankful that Thistleclaw wouldn’t be able to train Whitekit.

“Thistleclaw!” she called before Tigerpaw could take another lunge at his mentor.

Both cats swung around, their eyes narrowing when they saw her.

“What is it?” Thistleclaw demanded.

“Sunstar wants us to check the border for kittypets,” she told him.

His dark gaze brightened. “At last!” He bounded into the trees. “Come on, Tigerpaw,” he called over his shoulder. “Let’s try out some of those battle moves for real.”

Paws heavy, Bluefur followed.

As they neared Twolegplace, Thistleclaw signaled to Tigerpaw. “Run up ahead and check for scents,” he ordered.

Tigerpaw rushed off, leaving Thistleclaw and Bluefur alone.

“I know what you’re doing,” Thistleclaw growled.

Bluefur was alarmed by the ferocity of his mew. “What?”

“Playing with Whitekit every time my tail’s turned.”

“He’s my
kin
!” she snapped, anger surging in her paws.

“He’s my
kit
!” he retorted. “Just remember that! I can stop your dumb games anytime I want.”

“How?” Bluefur challenged.

Thistleclaw flashed her a menacing look. “Right now, I’m letting you play with him. But the moment I think you’re turning him soft, the games will stop, get it?” Bluefur glared at him, but Thistleclaw went on. “He’s my son, not yours!”

Stung, Bluefur opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought about his kit-rearing methods.

“Kittypet scent!” Tigerpaw came tearing back. “Come on!”

The dark young tabby led them to a sparse strip of woodland not far from a row of bright red Twoleg nests. Light filtered through the bare branches, striping the forest floor.

Tigerpaw started sniffing tufts of grass. “The trail leads this way.”

Bluefur could smell a faint trace of kittypet. Not strong enough to belong to a full-grown cat. “It’s just a kit,” she meowed. “Not worth following.”

“I forgot you had a soft spot for kittypets,” Thistleclaw growled. He followed his apprentice along the scent trail as it led through long grass at the edge of Twolegplace.

They pushed through the grass and emerged in a sunny patch of scrub beside a fence. A tiny black kittypet was snuffling at the ground. As the three Clan cats advanced, he spun around, eyes wide.

“Hello.” He blinked happily, tail high.

Tigerpaw bristled, and Thistleclaw had already unsheathed his claws.

Bluefur tensed, willing the tiny tom to run. The fence wasn’t far. There was a chance it might escape.

A growl rumbled in Thistleclaw’s throat. “What are you doing here? This is ThunderClan territory!”

“Thistleclaw, he’s only a kit. He’s no threat,” Bluefur pleaded.

“An intruder is an intruder, Bluefur! You’ve always been too soft on them.”

Bluefur felt sick as Thistleclaw turned to his apprentice. “Here, let’s put it to my apprentice. What do you think, Tigerpaw? How should we handle this?”

“I think the kittypet should be taught a lesson,” Tigerpaw hissed. “One it’ll remember.”

Bluefur stepped forward. “Now, hold on, there’s no need for this—”

Thistleclaw turned on her, arching his back. “Shut up!”

Tigerpaw lunged at the kit, sending it flying like a piece of prey. The kit skidded across the rough earth and landed, gasping for breath.

Get up!

Tail bushed in terror, the kit tried to scramble to its paws. But Tigerpaw pounced again. The tabby apprentice pinned the kit to the ground. With claws unsheathed, he swiped at its muzzle, then raked its flank. The kit squealed in agony.

“Show it your teeth, Tigerpaw,” Thistleclaw goaded.

Tigerpaw sunk his teeth into the kit’s shoulder and hauled it to its paws. The kit yowled and struggled, its paws scrabbling helplessly on the ground until Tigerpaw, his eyes gleaming, flung him away.

No!

Blood welling scarlet along his wounds, the kit pressed his belly to the ground as though he wished he could just vanish. Tigerpaw padded grimly toward it.

“Stop, Tigerpaw!” Bluefur pelted past him and stood in front of the kit. “That’s enough!” She bared her teeth, prepared to fight. Tigerpaw would kill this kit if she let him carry
on. It was no bigger than Whitekit. The thought wrenched her heart. “Warriors don’t need to kill to win a battle, remember?”

Tigerpaw halted and glared at her. “I was just defending our territory.”

“And you’ve done that,” Bluefur reasoned. “This kit has learned its lesson.”

The kit stood up on shaking paws and gazed at Tigerpaw with terror in its eyes.

“Yeah,” Tigerpaw agreed. He leered at the kit. “You’ll never forget me!”

Bluefur held her ground while the kit scuttled away. “If I
ever
see you do something like that again”—her eyes flashed from mentor to apprentice—“I’ll report you to Sunstar!”

“We were only defending ThunderClan territory from invaders,” Thistleclaw snarled.

“That so-called invader was a
kit!
”

Thistleclaw shrugged. “That’s his problem.” He turned and stalked away between the trees, his spiky pelt soon swallowed in shadow. Tigerpaw trotted after him with his tail up, proud of his brave victory.

Rage throbbed in Bluefur’s paws as she stared after them.

I’ll never let you take power in this Clan, Thistleclaw!