Bluestar's Prophecy

Bluepaw’s heart lurched as Pinestar yowled until his voice echoed off the trees. The ThunderClan leader flicked his tail in signal. “Let’s go!”

Excitement crackled like lightning as the raiding party surged toward the swaying gorse tunnel. Bluepaw felt the breeze from their rushing pelts and tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry.

Snowpaw and Moonflower headed after them.

“Come on.” Stonepelt nudged Bluepaw forward.

Wanting one last look at the camp, Bluepaw glanced backward as she raced after Snowpaw. There was just enough light to see Thistlekit peer from the nursery, then disappear, his eyes flashing in anger as he was dragged back into the safety of the brambles.

Weedwhisker sat beside Mumblefoot and Larksong like owls among the shivering branches of the fallen tree, while Patchpaw and Fuzzypelt paced the dark clearing. Tawnyspots and Windflight were climbing onto Highrock—ears pricked, pelts ruffled—and Goosefeather was disappearing into the shadows beyond the fern tunnel.

“Goosefeather’s not coming!” Bluepaw gasped, catching up with Snowpaw.

“I guess he needs to stay in his den, preparing for any wounded cats,” Snowpaw guessed.

Her words sent a chill through Bluepaw. Wounded! “But he told us to attack,” she persisted. Shouldn’t he be with them?

Stonepelt growled behind her, “Perhaps he got a sign from StarClan, warning him to stay out of harm’s way.”

“At least we’ve got Featherwhisker,” Moonflower called over her shoulder as they burst from the tunnel.

The medicine cat apprentice followed them out with a leaf wrap in his jaws. Bluepaw wondered what herbs it contained. They must be strong, because she could smell their sharp scent.

“Hurry!” Stonepelt ran at Bluepaw’s heels, pushing her pace.

The rest of the patrol was already charging for the bottom of the ravine. Bluepaw felt a prickle of worry. Could she climb the steep slope in the dark, with the wind howling around the rocks? She followed Snowpaw up the first tumble of stone, feeling Stonepelt pressing behind her. He wouldn’t let her slip. Claws unsheathed, she clambered upward, following the stream of cats that passed like shadows over the stones.

Featherwhisker’s herbs were working. Her muscles felt strong, and each jump seemed to take her farther than she anticipated. Her heart was racing, but with excitement and not fear. She could sense the anticipation of her Clanmates. Today a great victory would be won. Upward she pushed, until with a final bound she leaped to the top of the ravine. Without pausing for breath, she pelted into the woods.

Tree trunks blurred around her as Bluepaw ran with her Clan, weaving around bushes in the predawn light. The wind howled, whisking the trees as though they were no more than grass, and shaking their great branches until twigs and leaves rained down. Bluepaw could make out the white patches of Dappletail’s coat ahead as it flashed among the trees. Sunfall’s fur was pale in the half-light, while Adderfang, Pinestar, and Stormtail blended with the shadows, visible only by their movement, like water flowing among reeds.

“Stream ahead,” Moonflower warned.

The cats slowed, bunching, before leaping the glittering water one at a time and racing away through the trees. Bluepaw tensed as her turn neared. My legs aren’t long enough. She teetered at the edge while Moonflower leaped across; the silver-gray cat landed delicately on the far side and turned to look back.

“It’s not deep!” she encouraged, her mew almost drowned by the roar of the wind.

“But it’s wet!” Bluepaw wailed.

Snowpaw fidgeted beside her, her paws slipping on the muddy bank.

Stonepelt nudged Bluepaw from behind. “Go on,” he urged. “You’ll make it.”

Bluepaw focused on the far bank and took a deep breath. Screwing up her muscles, she leaped. Stonepelt gave her a helpful shove with his muzzle, and Bluepaw stretched out her forepaws, managing to grasp the far bank and scramble up beside Moonflower.

Snowpaw was hunched on the other bank, eyes wide as she prepared to jump.

“You can do it!” Bluepaw called.

“I’m coming!” Snowpaw jumped, but her graceful leap turned into a clumsy flop as her hind paws skidded on loose leaves and she splashed belly-first into the stream.

“Mouse dung!” Snowpaw struggled to her paws with the water rushing around her legs, then scrambled out.

Bluepaw ducked as Snowpaw shook the freezing water from her pelt.

“Bad luck.” Stonepelt landed lightly behind them.

“Hurry!” Moonflower commanded. Their Clanmates had disappeared into the forest.

Only Sparrowpelt had waited. He was peering from the bushes up ahead. “I wondered where you’d got to,” he meowed as they caught up. He saw Snowpaw’s drenched pelt and shook his head. “Running will warm you up,” he told her before speeding off again.