Bluestar's Prophecy

“Hush!” Dappletail sounded cross. “How many times do you have to be told?”

“Sorry.” Bluepaw dipped her head, then raised her gaze obediently to the Great Rock once more.

Cedarstar was speaking. His Clan watched him, their shoulders stiff.

“It is with sadness that I must announce our deputy, Stonetooth, is moving to the elders’ den.”

A thin, gray tabby, standing at the foot of the rock, nodded solemnly as his Clan called his name.

“He doesn’t look so old,” Bluepaw whispered to Crookedpaw.

“A bit long in the tooth.” Crookedpaw choked back a purr.

Confused, Bluepaw looked again at the gray tom and noticed his teeth curling from under his lip like claws. She shoved Crookedpaw. “He can’t help it!” But a purr rumbled in her throat.

“Raggedpelt will take his place,” Cedarstar went on.

A dark brown warrior stalked from the crowd of ShadowClan cats into a pool of moonlight below the rock. He was far bigger than Stonetooth, who, thrown into the moon’s shadow by the new deputy, suddenly looked withered and scrawny.

Bluepaw’s fur lifted along her spine. She didn’t like the look of Raggedpelt. He hardly acknowledged Stonetooth, who sat hunched on his belly as Raggedpelt swung his head around, accepting the yowling approval of his Clanmates.

“Raggedpelt! Raggedpelt!”

Featherwhisker’s eyes narrowed to slits as he watched Raggedpelt. Bluepaw’s unease grew. Did the medicine cat apprentice know this change signaled trouble? She glanced at Goosefeather for some clue, but the ThunderClan medicine cat seemed to be staring absently away into the trees.

Sagewhisker cheered loudly for Raggedpelt. A young cat cheered alongside her.

Her apprentice?

But the younger cat didn’t look like a ShadowClan cat at all. With thick gray fur, a flat face, and large amber eyes, she stood out among her sleek-furred, sharp-muzzled Clanmates. As Bluepaw watched, the gray cat paused and turned her gaze toward Bluepaw. Bluepaw’s breath seemed to catch for a moment before the gray cat turned away and returned to cheering her Clanmate.

What must it be like to be ShadowClan? To cheer for a ShadowClan warrior? ThunderClan might meet with the other three Clans every full moon, but Bluepaw realized that she’d never really know them, never understand their loyalties and the bonds that connected them to their Clanmates as tightly as she was bound to hers.

She suddenly realized that the cheering had died down and the leaders were leaping from the Great Rock. The Gathering was over, and the cats were melting into their separate groups and heading for the slopes that led back to their territories. She turned to say good-bye to Crookedpaw, but he was already trotting after a large, mottled warrior. He glanced over his shoulder and blinked at her before disappearing up the shadowy slope.

“Don’t we share tongues anymore?” Bluepaw looked at Swiftbreeze. “I know the other Clans don’t like us right now, but we usually share tongues with one another.”

Swiftbreeze shivered. “Too cold tonight.” Fluffing out her fur, she followed Adderfang and Stormtail, who were already padding away between the great oaks.

As Bluepaw stood up, a pelt brushed hers.

“Who was that?” Snowpaw’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight.

Bluepaw blinked. Who?

“That RiverClan tom you were talking to?” Snowpaw pressed.

“Oh!” Bluepaw understood. “That was Crookedpaw. He’s an apprentice.”

“He’s big enough to be a warrior.”

“He started his training late,” Bluepaw explained.

“Sounds like you were getting to know each other pretty well.” Snowpaw’s mew was tinged with accusation.

“So?”

Snowpaw shrugged. “You should be careful about getting friendly with cats from other Clans.”

“We were only chatting,” Bluepaw protested. “It’s a Gathering. There’s a truce. We’re supposed to be friendly.”

“Not that friendly.” Snowpaw snorted. “From what I saw, even Sunfall couldn’t shut you up.”

Bluepaw lashed her tail. “Just because I talk to another cat doesn’t mean I’m mooning over him like you do with Thistlepaw.”

Snowpaw hissed. “You’re just jealous!”

“Jealous of you and Thistlepaw?” Bluepaw snapped. “No way!”

But Snowpaw was already away, pelt bristling, trotting after Sparrowpelt.

Sunfall beckoned from beneath an oak. “Are you coming?”

Bluepaw hurried to his side. “Was I being too friendly with that RiverClan apprentice?”

“You were being too noisy,” Sunfall chided gently.

“But is it okay to be friends with cats from another Clan?”

“Not friends, but it makes sense to get to know them. There’s a lot we can learn from one another, and not just how to fight them in battle.”

“So it was all right to talk to him?”

Sunfall nodded. “But next time, save the talking for afterward, please.”

Bluepaw shifted her paws. “Sorry,” she mewed. “He was just chatty, that’s all.”

Sunfall’s whiskers twitched. He flicked her flank with his tail, shooing her toward the bottom of the slope. “Come on, let’s get home before our paws turn to ice.”

Chapter 12