Bluestar's Prophecy

I can’t think about that now. She had to find the catmint. Sniffing, she crept along the row of herbs stacked against the wall. It was so dark she could hardly see them, but their flavors were strong on the air. Just as Featherwhisker had said, the catmint was near the back. She recognized the mouthwatering scent at once. Reaching out with her paw, she began to feel the herbs stacked around it. Her pad brushed a soft leaf. She picked it up between her teeth and felt the edges with her tongue. Jagged. This must be it. Snatching a mouthful, she dashed out of the shadowy den into the soft light of dusk and hurried back to the nursery.

Snowfur was already at the entrance. “He took the moss inside,” she mewed. Bluefur nosed her way through the prickly entrance and dropped the leaves at Featherwhisker’s paws. “Are these the right ones?”

He nodded. “Well done.”

Bluefur saw Leopardfoot in her nest. Her heart sank. Leopardfoot looked tiny against the moss and bracken, her eyes wild with pain, her pelt matted and smelling of fear.

Swiftbreeze lifted Leopardfoot’s chin with a paw. “Try drinking a little.” She pushed the dripping moss ball closer and Leopardfoot licked at it, then coughed as her body heaved suddenly.

Swiftbreeze pricked her ears. “Are they coming?”

“Nearly,” Featherwhisker soothed. He chewed the leaves into a pulp and dropped them in front of Leopardfoot’s muzzle. “Eat this.” His mew was soft but firm, and Leopardfoot lapped obediently at the pulp, struggling to swallow as her body heaved again.

Bluefur reached forward and pressed her muzzle to Leopardfoot’s head. “You can do it,” she whispered. “You always were the strongest. And just think of the beautiful kits you’ll have! They’ll all be great warriors.”

Leopardfoot blinked at her dully, and Bluefur wondered if she’d even heard. She backed toward the entrance.

“Thank you,” Featherwhisker murmured. Nodding, Bluefur slipped from the den.

Outside, the entire Clan was uneasy. Stormtail, Sunfall, Adderfang, and Tawnyspots paced the clearing, their pelts pricking as though frustrated that they could not fight this battle with Leopardfoot. Larksong and Stonepelt had been joined by Mumblefoot and Weedwhisker, and they huddled beneath Highrock, eyes glowing in the shadows. White-eye pressed against Sparrowpelt while Robinwing and Thrushpelt circled them, glancing every now and then at the darkening sky.

Goosefeather appeared from the gorse tunnel and padded straight to his den. He didn’t even stop to ask how Leopardfoot was. Bluefur pressed back the urge to rake his muzzle with her claws. He’s supposed to be the Clan medicine cat, for StarClan’s sake!

At least Pinestar had got to his paws and was padding among his Clanmates. “We must eat,” he ordered. “Starving ourselves won’t make these kits come any quicker.”

Bluefur scowled at him. These kits! They were his kits. Didn’t he care?

Sunfall nodded and took a pigeon from the fresh-kill pile. Lionpaw picked up a squirrel and carried it awkwardly to the tree stump. Thistlepaw was already eating with Snowfur beside the nettle patch.

Sweetpaw looked up and caught Bluefur’s eye. “Join us,” she called. She was sharing a mouse with Rosepaw.

Bluefur padded gratefully toward the two apprentices. She wasn’t hungry but needed the comfort of sharing food with Clanmates. As she took a bite of mouse, she glanced at the nursery. Come and join us! she begged her unborn Clanmates.

While the Clan shared tongues after the meal, Silverpelt began to glitter overhead. Sunfall yawned and got to his paws. “There will be duties tomorrow…whatever happens tonight.” He glanced at the nursery and padded away to his den. Nodding and sighing, the rest of the Clan cats began to melt away to their nests.

Thrushpelt padded past Bluefur. “You have to sleep, too,” he meowed.

“I will…soon,” Bluefur promised, knowing it would be impossible. How could she sleep, knowing Leopardfoot was suffering?

As Thrushpelt padded away, a tiny wail sounded from the nursery. Bluefur jumped to her paws. A kit?

Goosefeather came hurrying from the medicine den and disappeared into the nursery. He reappeared a moment later. “The first kit has been born!” he called. “A she-cat!”

Heads poked from dens, and murmurs of joy and relief rippled around the camp. Bluefur rushed past Goosefeather and pushed her way into the nursery. “Is Leopardfoot okay?” she demanded.

Swiftbreeze was lapping Leopardfoot’s ears; she looked up, her eyes glowing with hope. Featherwhisker was busy crouched over the young queen, and Bluefur held her breath as another kit plopped out onto the moss. Featherwhisker lapped it and, grasping it by its scruff, dropped it beside its littermate at Leopardfoot’s belly.

“One more to go,” he mewed.

Leopardfoot shuddered as the last kit fell into the nest. “A tom!” Featherwhisker mewed happily. He lapped it and placed it beside the other two.