Bluestar's Prophecy

Bluepaw felt her paws trembling. She couldn’t shake the lingering suspicion that Goosefeather had caused her mother’s death. As the wounded cats limped to the medicine clearing, Speckletail and Poppydawn collected mint from a patch beside the nursery and plucked rosemary from beside the warriors’ den. Bluepaw watched, cold to the bone, as the two queens began to rub her mother’s body with the herbs. Larksong and Weedwhisker joined them, tucking Moonflower’s paws under her and lapping her pelt.

“Will you sit vigil?” Speckletail’s soft mew roused Bluepaw from her grief-stricken trance.

The queens and elders had finished their task, and Moonflower’s body lay in the center of the clearing, as sleek and peaceful as if she were only sleeping. The rain clouds were clearing now, and the sun rested on the tops of the trees, turning them pink. Moonflower’s pelt shone silver. With a pang of grief so strong she had to fight for breath, Bluepaw remembered the first time she’d opened her eyes and been startled by her mother’s beauty. How she wished she were back in the nest now, listening to Moonflower’s steady breathing, waiting for her to wake up.

“Will you sit vigil?” Speckletail repeated.

Rage exploded in Bluepaw’s belly. “Why did you have to make her look like she’s asleep? She’s dead!” She stared at Snowpaw, but Snowpaw’s eyes were dull with grief.

Sunfall padded from the shadow beneath Highrock and laid his tail on Bluepaw’s shoulders. “No one’s trying to pretend Moonflower’s still alive. She walks with our ancestors now, in StarClan. But she’s still watching you, as closely as she ever did. She’ll never leave you, Bluepaw.”

Bluepaw wrenched herself away from him. “She has left me. I don’t want her to be in StarClan. I want her to be here, where I can see her and talk to her.”

Sunfall gazed steadily at her. “You’ll see her in your dreams, I promise.”

Stifling the wail that rose in her throat, Bluepaw crouched beside Moonflower’s body. Snowpaw joined her, nestling so close their pelts touched. Together they pressed their noses into their mother’s fur. The mint and rosemary had stolen her familiar scent, and the ache in Bluepaw’s heart grew sharper. The shadows lengthened around them as one by one her Clanmates joined the vigil. Bluepaw sensed the warmth of their bodies, even more noticeable next to the coldness of Moonflower’s. She pressed her muzzle harder against her mother’s flank, wishing she could find a little remaining warmth in her fur. But Moonflower was as cold as the earth.

You said you would always be here with me. Why did you have to die?

Chapter 10

Mouse dung!

Bluepaw released her grip on the bark and slid backward down the trunk of the birch tree. The squirrel had been too quick for her and was already disappearing into the topmost branches, sending flurries of snow showering onto the hunting patrol.

Sunfall ducked. “Don’t worry,” he called up. “Squirrels are always going to be faster in thick snow because it supports their weight.”

Well, obviously! Bluepaw wished Stonepelt were still her mentor. He had never treated her like a mouse-brain. But he had retired to the elders’ den when his injury from the battle with WindClan didn’t heal properly, and now she was stuck with Sunfall. Poppydawn and Swiftbreeze kept telling her that it was an honor to be mentored by the Clan deputy, but Bluepaw wasn’t convinced he was such a great mentor.

If I’d stalked that squirrel better I would have caught it.

It was the only sniff of prey they’d had all morning, and she’d let it get away. As she dropped backward into the thickly piled snow around the tree’s roots, Snowpaw’s mew rang through the muffled forest.

“I know how we can get the prey out of their burrows!”

“By calling to them?” Bluepaw mewed sarcastically. Hadn’t her sister learned to keep her voice low yet?

“How?” Sparrowpelt beckoned his apprentice closer, and Snowpaw lolloped like a hare through the snow to his side, her belly leaving a trail in the soft white powder.

Lionpaw leaped up onto the root beside Bluepaw. He’d been an apprentice for only half a moon, but he was already as big as her and had the typical cockiness of a fresh ’paw. He’d caught two mice, never seen battle, and acted like being an apprentice was the best thing in the world.

Bluepaw hunched her shoulders as he settled next to her. Couldn’t he sit next to his mentor and leave her in peace?

“I wonder what her idea is?” Lionpaw mewed.

“Who cares?” Bluepaw sniffed. “She’s probably scared all the prey around here back into their burrows already.”

“Don’t be grumpy.” Lionpaw nudged her gently. “Snowpaw has good ideas.”

Bluepaw rubbed her nose with a paw, trying to warm it up. “Maybe she thinks if she shouts loud enough, every mouse and bird in the forest will come out to see what the noise is.”