Bluestar's Prophecy

“Let’s go down,” Bluefur suggested. “Just follow me.” She led him the easiest route she could find, glancing over her shoulder to check that he was okay. He looked a lot less confident now. He scrambled and slithered from branch to branch without speaking, and she saw relief flood his gaze as they landed back on the roots.

“Thank StarClan,” he sighed, sliding down onto the ground and sinking his claws into the earth.

Bluefur purred. “Not bad for a fish-face.”

Oakheart looked at her sharply. “What did you call me?”

Bluefur met his gaze. “Fish-face.”

He lunged for her, purring, but she hopped quickly out of the way and hared toward the Great Rock.

“You wait till I get my paws on you!” Oakheart threatened, but his voice cracked with amusement.

“You’ll never catch me!”

Bluefur charged around the Great Rock and dodged behind the oaks, Oakheart never more than a tail-length behind her, until she flopped onto the ground, panting.

“I can’t run anymore!” she gasped.

Oakheart collapsed beside her.

“Fish-face!” she whispered.

He suddenly flipped himself over and sunk his teeth softly into her scruff, pinning her to the ground. “Who’s a fish-face?” he mewed through a mouthful of fur.

“No one!” she wailed.

Oakheart rolled off and sat up, catching his breath. Bluefur pushed herself onto her haunches and leaned against him, enjoying the smoothness of his pelt and the firmness of his muscles beneath. He still smelled a bit fishy, but his scent was overlaid with the tang of pines.

Oakheart sighed. “I’ve waited so many moons for this.” He twisted his head and looked down into her eyes. “For you.”

Bluefur dropped her gaze to her paws, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Oakheart nuzzled her as she looked up at him.

“Every cat in my Clan’s been telling me to get a mate,” he murmured. “But I want no other mate but you.”

“I know what you mean,” Bluefur mewed. “Larksong told me I should pair off with…” She stopped, seeing hurt spark his gaze.

Oakheart leaned away. “Is there another cat who…?”

“No,” Bluefur mewed quickly. “Only…”

“Only what?”

“I’ve been raising Snowfur’s kit. I haven’t had time to think about mates.”

“You’ve done a great job. Your sister would be proud of you. But Whitestorm’s a warrior now,” Oakheart pointed out. “You’ve got time to live your own life.”

“Maybe,” Bluefur whispered. “But this can never happen.”

“What?”

“Us.”

“Why?” Hurt cracked Oakheart’s mew.

Bluefur couldn’t believe it wasn’t obvious. “We’re from different Clans!” And I have a destiny that doesn’t leave room for a mate.

Pain twisted her heart. She tried to push it away but it hung there like grief, cold and heavy. She pressed closer to Oakheart, and his warmth eased her sadness.

“If we carry on meeting like this,” she murmured, “we’ll end up being hurt.”

“The only thing that can hurt me,” Oakheart breathed, “is being apart from you.”

Bluefur knew it was true, for her and for him. But she couldn’t change her destiny. She stared up at the Great Rock, glittering with frost. The Clan leaders would be horrified if they could see what was happening.

Two figures gazed down from the top.

Moonflower and Snowfur!

Bluefur felt every hair on her pelt rise.

Oakheart stirred beside her. “What is it?”

Bluefur stared at her mother and sister. There was such sadness in their expressions as they sat watching, neither moving or speaking.

I know why you’re here, she thought. They’d come to remind her where her true loyalties lay. If she was going to fulfill the mysterious fire-and-water prophecy, then she had to be as strong as fire—and loyal only to her Clanmates.

“What are you staring at?” Oakheart pressed.

Bluefur blinked, and the starry shapes on the Great Rock vanished. “Nothing.” She turned to Oakheart. “Let’s stay the night here.”

Just one night! she begged her mother and sister. I promise after this I’ll devote the rest of my life to my Clan. She glanced up at the rock. No one was there, and the moon shone in a clear bright sky.

“Let’s build a nest,” Oakheart suggested.

They scraped together a heap of leaves beneath one of the roots of an oak tree, and curled up together in the frost-scented darkness.

Chapter 37

A soft tail-tip stroked Bluefur’s cheek.

“Time to wake up.” Oakheart’s whisper stirred her ear fur.

Bluefur blinked open her eyes and stretched, the leaves of their nest rustling beneath her. It was still dark in the hollow, but above the trees the sky was turning milky with predawn light. She sat up, heart racing. She had to get home.

Oakheart was looking at her, his eyes glowing like the Moonstone. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“But we must.” She pressed her muzzle to his.

They padded to the edge of the clearing and paused, twining tails. Their time together was over.

“I’ll look out for you on the riverbank,” Oakheart promised.