Bluestar's Prophecy

“There you are,” Snowfur greeted her. They were crouched beneath a wall. Rocks lay scattered at the bottom, and a break gaped at the top where the stonework had crumbled.

“The catmint’s over there.” Featherwhisker stretched his forepaws up the wall.

Snowfur’s eyes opened wide. “What if kittypets come?”

“Scare them off!” Featherwhisker leaped up. “It shouldn’t be hard,” he called from the top. “They think Clan cats eat bones and grow to the size of badgers when we’re angry.” Scrabbling over the top, he disappeared down the other side.

“Quick!” Snowfur sprang after him. By the time Bluefur scrambled up, Featherwhisker was streaking around the edge of the enclosed clearing on the other side.

“Let’s keep watch from up here,” Bluefur suggested.

Snowfur nodded. “I’ll stand guard at that corner.” She beckoned with her nose to where the wall turned a few tail-lengths away. “And you watch from there. We’ll have every view covered.”

As Snowfur picked her way along the crumbling stonework, Bluefur padded to her corner and sat down. Her heart flapped in her chest. This was her first warrior mission. She was in charge of getting Featherwhisker home safely with a supply of catmint that might one day save a ThunderClan life. They could be attacked by kittypets at any moment. Or a Twoleg might appear from anywhere. She looked down anxiously. Featherwhisker was digging through the thickly weeded undergrowth at one side of the grassy clearing.

“Is the catmint alive?” she called, but the medicine cat apprentice’s muzzle was too deeply buried in weeds to hear.

Snowfur was staring out into the trees, her ears pricked up. Bluefur scanned her own side. Through the leaves fluttering on the low branches, she spotted Pinestar. He was still on the fence. And beside him she recognized a cat with an orange pelt.

Jake?

Was Pinestar going to attack him? Bluefur tensed, waiting for the first shriek. But none came. The two cats seemed to be quietly talking.

“Get away!” Snowfur’s hiss made Bluefur jump.

“What’s wrong?” She scooted along the wall, hackles raised.

Snowfur was staring down at a tortoiseshell kittypet, who was gazing up at her with enormous golden eyes.

Bluefur arched her back. “We grow big as badgers when we’re angry!” she warned.

“And we eat bones,” Snowfur spat.

Yowling in terror, the kittypet whirled around and sped into the undergrowth.

Bluefur purred. “That was easy.” She bounded down into the grassy clearing and ran to tell Featherwhisker. “Don’t worry!” she announced. “We’ve frightened off the kittypet.”

Featherwhisker plucked his head from the weed tangle. “What kittypet?”

“The one threatening to climb the wall!”

“Threatening, eh?” Featherwhisker’s eyes glowed.

Bluefur fidgeted with embarrassment. “Well, it might have jumped up!”

Featherwhisker purred. “Thanks,” he mewed. “Can you call Snowfur? I need both of you to help me carry this catmint back.”

Bluefur dashed back to the wall. “Featherwhisker needs help.”

She led Snowfur back to where Featherwhisker had piled bundles of catmint on the grass, and scooped up a bundle under her chin just as Stonepelt had taught her. The fragrant scent made Bluefur’s claws itch. It smelled delicious. “I can manage more,” she offered. Featherwhisker dragged another frond from the plant, and Bluefur grasped it in her jaws.

“I want to try that!” Snowfur sounded impressed. She struggled to grasp two bundles as Bluefur had, securing them in place at last, and the three cats set off for home with the precious herb.

“You’ve brought loads!” Goosefeather was delighted when they dropped the catmint in the medicine clearing.

Bluefur felt a surge of pride. Her mouth was still watering from the tantalizing taste. It had been hard not to munch a leaf or two, but she knew it was too precious to waste.

“You must be hungry,” Goosefeather went on. “Go get something to eat.” He glanced at Featherwhisker. “You may as well go, too, and while you’re at the fresh-kill pile, you can bring me back a morsel to eat. I’ve had a busy morning.”

Bluefur glanced around at the clearing. It was scattered with herbs lying amid fallen leaves, and a patch of grass was flattened in one corner where the sun pooled. It was the exact shape of a plump medicine cat.

Busy? Huh.

Sunfall was nosing through the fresh-kill pile when they reached it. He looked up. “Pinestar’s just arrived, hungry as a starling,” he meowed.

Bluefur glanced at the ThunderClan leader, who was washing beside the nettle patch. He had made it back to camp before them—but he hadn’t been carrying two bundles of catmint.

“How did you get on with your first assignment?” Sunfall asked.

“Okay,” Bluefur mewed, hoping Featherwhisker agreed.

Featherwhisker purred. “They gave me enough time to gather plenty.”

Pinestar looked up. “You were gathering catmint?”

“Enough to see us through till leaf-fall,” Featherwhisker replied.

Was that alarm flashing in the ThunderClan leader’s eyes? Was he worried they’d seen him chatting with Jake?