Bluestar's Prophecy

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.