Bluestar's Prophecy

Moonflower’s eyes glittered hard as amber as she crossed the clearing. With her ears flat and her pelt slicked by the wind, Bluepaw hardly recognized her mother. She straightened her back and lifted her chin, vowing to be as much like Moonflower as she could.

Featherwhisker dropped a few herbs at her paws. “You look like a warrior already.”

Bluepaw looked at him in surprise. “Do I?”

Stonepelt narrowed his eyes. “Don’t forget, stay out of the fighting.”

Snowpaw scampered over from the apprentices’ den. “Can you teach us a battle move, just in case?”

Moonflower reached them. “You won’t need any. You won’t be fighting,” she meowed firmly.

Snowpaw bristled, but before she could answer, Featherwhisker pawed some herbs toward her. “Eat these,” he ordered. “They’ll give you strength.”

Bluepaw sniffed at her herbs and wrinkled her nose.

“They’re bitter,” he warned. “But the taste won’t last long.”

Bluepaw stuck out her tongue and lapped up the leaves as Snowpaw ate hers. She gagged when the dark, sour flavor hit the back of her throat, then closed her eyes and forced herself to swallow.

“Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!” Snowpaw was circling frantically, flicking her tongue like an adder, when Bluepaw opened her eyes.

Pinestar’s yowl made her halt: “Goosefeather has more news.”

Moonflower’s eyes widened. “Another omen?”

Goosefeather nodded. “I examined the vole in the medicine clearing and found a shred of catmint on its other flank.”

“Is he sure it didn’t come from the floor of his den?” Stonepelt muttered under his breath. “It’s not exactly spotless in there.”

Bluepaw looked at him curiously. Surely her mentor didn’t doubt the medicine cat as well?

Goosefeather went on. “Yesterday you wanted more guidance from StarClan. Now you have it. Our warrior ancestors are telling us how we can fight WindClan’s aggression.”

“With a shred of catmint?” Moonflower’s eyes were round.

“We must take the battle all the way into their camp,” Goosefeather announced.

“Their camp?” Stonepelt flattened his ears. “Do you know how dangerous that will be?”

“This is StarClan’s advice, not mine,” Goosefeather countered. “The catmint tells me that the only way to defeat WindClan is to destroy its medicine supply.”

Sunfall stepped forward, pelt bristling. “But that would endanger kits and elders. Every Clan depends on its medicine supply, especially with leaf-bare approaching. If we destroy that, we are attacking innocents as well as warriors.” Outrage filled his mew.

Tawnyspots nodded. “What kind of warriors would we be to pull such a fox-hearted trick?”

Goosefeather lifted his chin. “We’d be alive.”

Pinestar took a heavy step forward. “I agree that it seems harsh, but StarClan has warned us that we face destruction unless we act against WindClan aggression before it’s too late. If we attack their medicine supply, they’ll be weakened for moons. ThunderClan will be safe.”

“But what if WindClan suffers an outbreak of whitecough?” Featherwhisker ventured. “How will Hawkheart treat the sick? The kits and elders would be defenseless.”

Adderfang lashed his tail. “Would you sacrifice our own kits and elders to save theirs?” he demanded. “If we don’t attack now, ThunderClan will be destroyed. Is it not worth risking a few WindClan lives to save all of ours?”

Pinestar sighed. “Adderfang is right,” he meowed. “We must follow StarClan’s advice if we are to save ourselves.”

“So we’re attacking the camp?” Stonepelt growled.

“Our target is the medicine den. No kit or elder is to be harmed.” Pinestar narrowed his eyes. “But their medicine supplies must be destroyed.”

Bluepaw shivered as another vicious gust of wind roared down the ravine and howled through the camp. “Do you think the weather is a sign?” she wondered.

“I think we’ve had enough signs for one day,” Moonflower muttered. She suddenly flashed her amber gaze at her kits. “Promise you’ll steer clear of the fighting! There’ll be time for being heroes when you’re bigger and stronger and better trained.” Her eyes blazed, and Bluepaw found herself nodding.

“Snowpaw?”

Snowpaw dipped her head. “Okay.”

Bluepaw saw some of the tension leave her mother’s hunched shoulders.

“Not allowed in the fighting, eh?” Stormtail padded over and flicked Bluepaw’s ear with his tail-tip. “Next time, perhaps.”

Moonflower flashed him a sharp look. “This is going to be a dangerous battle,” she reminded him.

Bluepaw’s belly turned cold.

“We’ve never attacked a Clan’s camp before,” Moonflower went on. “We’ll be fighting the whole Clan in a place they know and we don’t.”

Stormtail nudged her shoulder. “But we’ll have the element of surprise,” he meowed. “And we’ll be fighting at close quarters.”

“That’s what worries me.”

“Up close, WindClan’s nimbleness will count for nothing. ThunderClan strength will have the advantage.”

Bluepaw narrowed her eyes. That’s not what you told Dappletail.

Moonflower lowered her gaze. “I suppose.”

“Don’t worry,” Stormtail meowed. “This is a battle we’ll win.”

“ThunderClan warriors! To me!”