Bluestar's Prophecy

Swiftbreeze purred as Leopardfoot strained to lap at her three kits. Relief and joy flooded Bluefur, and she backed out of the nursery. The Clan had gathered around Pinestar in the clearing.

“Congratulations!” Adderfang meowed.

“Another battle fought and won,” Sunfall purred.

Goosefeather shouldered past Bluefur and disappeared back into the nursery.

Dappletail raced up to Bluefur. “Have you seen them?”

She nodded. “Two she-cats and a tom.”

“Did you hear that?” Dappletail turned at once to White-eye. “Two she-cats and a tom.”

The news whispered like wind through the Clan, and purrs rose from the clearing.

Goosefeather struggled from the nursery once again and padded across the clearing. “Don’t celebrate too soon. Those kits may not make it through the night.” Shoulders hunched, he disappeared into the shadows of the fern tunnel. His words echoed behind him, sending shivers through the Clan.

Chapter 20

It was still dark when stabbing pains woke Bluefur, clutching her stomach like talons. She staggered to the dirtplace, almost too wrapped in pain to notice the tiny mewling coming from within the nursery. But when she returned, she heard soft voices murmuring and soothing the cries. By the sound of it, Featherwhisker and Swiftbreeze were still with Leopardfoot.

A shadow moved at the edge of the clearing. Rosepaw was creeping out of the apprentices’ den.

“Hey!” Bluefur hissed.

Rosepaw stopped and turned, her eyes flashing in the darkness. Her fur was ruffled, and she looked as wretched as Bluefur felt. “Got to get to the dirtplace,” she croaked.

“Bad belly?” Bluefur asked.

Rosepaw nodded. “Sweetpaw, too.”

It must have been the mouse they’d shared. Bluefur crept back to her nest and settled down. Sleep came, but fitfully. Pain haunted her dreams.

“Get off!” Snowfur pushed her away. “You’ve been kicking me all night!”

“Sorry,” Bluefur groaned. “Bellyache.”

Snowfur sat up and blinked sleepily. “Should I get Goosefeather?”

Bluefur shook her head. Her belly was so cramped and sore, she found herself panting between words. “He’ll be too busy with the kits.”

Snowfur yawned and curled back down in her nest. “Tell me if you change your mind.”

Bluefur lay blinking in the darkness awhile longer, trying not to fidget. Eventually the urge to use the dirtplace again was too much for her. She crawled out of the den and padded across the clearing. Dawn drew a milky haze over the horizon as it began to push back the night sky. The air was clear and cold, refreshing although it made Bluefur shiver. She paused by the nursery, her ears pricked up. A tiny mew shrilled, then another. Thank StarClan! At least two of the kits had survived the night.

Feeling weak, Bluefur returned from the dirtplace, breathing hard as she padded from the tunnel. Was that Lionpaw creeping out of the camp through the gorse? It was early for an apprentice to be heading into the forest alone. She padded after him, stopping when she reached the barrier. Pinestar’s scent was fresh on the prickly branches. He must have been taking Lionpaw out.

Bluefur turned from the barrier and headed for her den. It seemed odd for Pinestar to take Lionpaw out today. Wouldn’t he want to stay in the camp and see how his kits were? Perhaps it was an urgent mission. She paused in the clearing, still queasy but struggling to understand. If the mission was urgent, why not take an experienced warrior instead of Lionpaw? She shook her head, trying to clear it, but the movement only made it spin more. Unsteadily she crept back to her nest and gave in to the drowsiness dragging at her bones.

Aware in her sleep of the warriors moving around her, she half lifted her head. Her belly was sore, but the cramping had stopped.

“Go back to sleep,” Snowfur was whispering in her ear. “I’ll explain to Sunfall that you’re sick.”

Too tired to argue, Bluefur rested her muzzle on her paws. Then she remembered with a start. “Leopardfoot?”

“I think she’s okay,” Snowfur murmured.

Bluefur closed her eyes.

It was hot in the den when she woke. Greenleaf sunshine beat down on the dark leaves, baking the nests. Panting, Bluefur crawled outside and breathed the cooler air that wafted across the clearing. The sun shone high in the sky, and the clearing was empty apart from Weedwhisker picking through the fresh-kill pile and Poppydawn pacing outside the apprentices’ den. Bluefur’s belly felt as though she’d swallowed thistles, but her head was clearer.

She looked toward the nursery, wondering how Leopardfoot and her kits were doing. As she watched, Featherwhisker slid out. His pelt was unkempt and his eyes dull.

Bluefur hurried across the clearing. “How are they?” Her voice rasped in her throat. He looked at her, surprised.

“Are you okay?”

“Bad belly.”

He sighed. “Sweetpaw and Rosepaw, too.” He stopped to greet Poppydawn. “You wanted me to look at them?”

Poppydawn glanced apologetically at her paws. “I know you’ve been busy, but I’m worried. Sweetpaw can hardly stand.”