Bluestar's Prophecy

Sunfall pawed a thrush from the pile. “I’m glad they were useful.”

“They scared off a kittypet,” Featherwhisker told him.

Sunfall dipped his head. “Well done, you two.” He sounded genuinely pleased. Bluefur puffed out her chest as Sunfall carried the thrush to Pinestar.

The ThunderClan leader turned it over with his paw and sniffed it, as though he wasn’t sure whether he was hungry anymore. Surely he had worked up an appetite trekking all the way to Twolegplace and back? Bluefur’s belly was growling like a ShadowClan warrior.

She picked a mouse from the pile and settled beside the tree stump. As she began to chew on the mouse, she looked at Pinestar again. He was nibbling delicately on a wing while Sunfall dozed beside him.

Just what had the ThunderClan leader been doing on that fence?

Chapter 17

A full moon lit the clearing, dappling the Clans. For the first time in moons, the great oaks of Fourtrees swished with leaves. Bluefur shivered, exhilarated as the fresh night breeze ruffled her fur. This was her first Gathering as a warrior—and her first where Clan grudges and rivalries seemed to have been forgotten, at least for the truce. WindClan looked sleek and well fed; RiverClan stank of freshly caught fish; ShadowClan’s eyes flashed brightly from the dark shade of the trees.

Mumblefoot was sharing tongues with Whiteberry, a WindClan elder, while the medicine cats huddled together, talking quietly. Adderfang and Stormtail sat with Ottersplash and Raggedpelt, while Poppydawn sat in a circle of apprentices, purring indulgently while they boasted.

“I climbed my first tree yesterday,” a tabby RiverClan apprentice meowed, flexing his claws.

Poppydawn blinked. “Do RiverClan cats climb trees?”

“I thought you just swam!” Sweetpaw mewed.

The RiverClan tabby fluffed out his chest. “I can do both.”

“Well, I bet you can’t catch squirrels,” Thistlepaw challenged.

“Yuck.” The RiverClan apprentice pulled a face. “Who would want to?”

RiverClan was acting as though their attack on Sunningrocks had not happened, and the ThunderClan warriors weren’t crowing about their victory. Yet as Crookedpaw headed toward her, Bluefur felt a prickle of unease.

“You fought well,” he mewed.

She flattened her ears. “I fight even better now that I’m a warrior,” she warned.

His eyes lit unexpectedly with excitement. “I’ve got my warrior name, too!”

“Crookedjaw?”

“How did you guess?” A purr rumbled in his throat.

“Because your tail’s still straight.”

A yowl sounded from the Great Rock. “Let the Gathering begin.”

Pinestar stood at the edge of the stone, moonlight gleaming on his pelt. Silhouetted behind him were Hailstar, Heatherstar, and Cedarstar. Pinestar stepped back as the Clans began to crowd beneath the rock, and Cedarstar took his place.

“Newleaf has brought prey and warmth, but also more kittypets,” the ShadowClan leader announced. “Only today, a hunting patrol had to chase a ginger tom from our borders.”

Jake? Bluefur watched Pinestar, checking for a reaction.

Ottersplash called from RiverClan, “They hide in their cozy nests all leaf-bare and forget that the woods are ours!”

Adderfang curled his lip. “It never takes long to remind them to keep to their own soft lives.”

The Clans murmured in agreement.

Hailstar padded to the front. “WindClan has increased patrols to remind the barn cats to stay off our land.” He looked expectantly at Pinestar.

Bluefur narrowed her eyes. Would Pinestar tell the Clans about kittypets intruding on ThunderClan territory?

The ThunderClan leader lifted his chin. “We intend to increase patrols”—he paused, suddenly glaring at Hailstar—“to warn off any intruders.”

Bluefur shifted her paws. Why bring up Clan rivalries now? Everyone seemed to agree that it was kittypets causing the trouble. She wasn’t the only cat ruffled by Pinestar’s challenge. Growls rumbled among the RiverClan cats.

“No ShadowClan cat has crossed your border in moons,” Raggedpelt, the deputy, snarled.

Hawkheart called from the knot of medicine cats, “WindClan has stayed to our side of Fourtrees!”

Hailstar’s hackles lifted. “Are you accusing RiverClan of crossing your scent line?”

Pinestar shrugged. “I’m not accusing any cat of anything. But ThunderClan will be stepping up patrols from now on.” He blinked at Cedarstar. “Better safe than sorry.”

Bluefur’s belly tightened as anger charged the air.

Crookedjaw stood up. “Why accuse the Clans? We were talking about kittypets!”

Oakheart growled from beside his brother, “ThunderClan cats always were a bunch of kittypet friends!”

“Who are you calling kittypet friends?” Adderfang whipped his head around, eyes blazing.

Oakheart met his gaze steadily. Confidence glowed in the RiverClan warrior’s eyes. “You live beside Twolegplace!” he growled. “You’re practically denmates.”

Poppydawn bristled. “How dare you, fish-breath?”

Heatherstar called from the Great Rock, “By StarClan, stop!” She looked up at Silverpelt, glittering through the leaves. Wisps of clouds were hiding some of the stars.