Bluestar's Prophecy

Featherwhisker checked Snowfur. “Go wash in the stream,” he advised. “It smells like RiverClan blood, and licking it off will make you queasy.”

“Yuck. Fish.” Snowfur shuddered and hurried out of the camp.

Bluefur lifted her wrenched claw as Featherwhisker approached and held it out for him to inspect. Featherwhisker wrinkled his nose. “Painful,” he sympathized. “But it’ll heal quickly if you rest it.”

It stung like fury, but Bluefur didn’t want to admit it after Thistleclaw had acted so brave.

“Get comfrey pulp from Goosefeather,” Featherwhisker instructed. “It’ll ease the pain.”

“Thanks.” Bluefur limped to the medicine cat. She wondered if he was thinking about the prophecy, measuring it against her role in the battle. She hadn’t exactly blazed like fire through the forest, but she’d done all right.

Goosefeather eyed her strangely and pushed a wad of pulp toward her.

“Is that comfrey?” Bluefur checked.

“What else would I give you for a wrenched claw?”

How did he know what she needed, when so much else seemed to pass him by these days? Bluefur smeared the ointment onto her claw.

“Pinestar!” Sunfall’s mew made her whip around.

The ThunderClan leader was padding in through the gorse tunnel.

Dappletail and Poppydawn looked up from Sweetpaw’s body. Adderfang lifted his head, and Stormtail narrowed his eyes. The whole Clan fell silent as Sunfall stepped forward, his bloodied ear glistening in the morning sun.

“Where were you, Pinestar?” the ThunderClan deputy asked.

Pinestar didn’t answer at once. “Did you win?”

Sunfall nodded. “We chased those fish-faces back as far as the river. They still have Sunningrocks—that is a battle for another day—but they won’t set foot across the border for a while.”

A growl rumbled in Stormtail’s throat.

“Good,” Pinestar meowed. He padded across the clearing and jumped onto Highrock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather to hear what I have to tell you!”

Bluefur looked at Rosepaw, puzzled. Shouldn’t Sunfall make his report about the battle first?

Lionpaw padded over to join them, staring at his paws. Was he sulking because he’d missed the battle?

No. Lionpaw didn’t sulk. If he had something he wanted to say, he’d just say it. A shiver ran down Bluefur’s spine. The suspicion she’d felt since she’d caught him chasing butterflies nagged harder. Lionpaw knew something about their leader.

Pinestar gazed down at his Clan. They hadn’t moved, just turned to look curiously at him. Pinestar looked tired, his eyes dull with grief. Bluefur leaned forward, her stomach hollow.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” Pinestar began, and his voice echoed around the silent clearing until his words bounced off the trees and the rocks. “I can no longer be your leader. From now on, I will leave the Clan and live with housefolk in Twolegplace.”

Around the clearing, pelts bristled and the air crackled with tension.

Stormtail curled his lip. “You’re going to be a kittypet?”

Sunfall stared at him in disbelief. “Why?”

Adderfang dug his claws deep into the earth.

“How could you?” Poppydawn burst out, gazing at him wide-eyed from beside her daughter’s body.

Pinestar bowed his head. “I have been honored to serve you this long. The rest of my life will be spent as a kittypet, where I have no battles to fight, no lives depending on me for food and safety.”

“Coward.” Adderfang’s ears were flat.

Pinestar shifted his paws. “I have given eight lives to ThunderClan—each of them willingly. But I am not ready to risk my ninth.”

Weedwhisker called from the nettle patch. “What could be more honorable than to die for your Clan?”

“You would live among StarClan.” Poppydawn stroked her tail along Sweetpaw’s pelt. “And share tongues with Clanmates you have lost.”

Pinestar sighed. “I am doing this for ThunderClan, I promise.”

“You’re doing it for you,” Stormtail growled.

Lionpaw stepped forward. His legs were trembling and he looked as scared of speaking up as he would be of taking on a ShadowClan warrior, but he lifted his chin determinedly. “Do we really want a leader who no longer wishes to lead?” he challenged.

Bluefur stared at the young cat. He wasn’t just brave; maybe he had a point. If she were leader, she would gladly give her Clan all nine of the lives bestowed on her by StarClan. Did she want a reluctant leader? Did her Clanmates? Around her, warriors were murmuring to one another, shooting rabbit-swift glances at Pinestar as if they no longer recognized him.

Pinestar padded to the side of Highrock as if he was ready to jump down. “Sunfall will lead you well, and StarClan will understand,” he meowed.

“The other Clans might not,” Sunfall warned. “You won’t be able to come back to the forest, you know.”