Bluestar's Prophecy

Pinestar let out an amused huff. “Oh, I can imagine the names they’ll call me. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the leaders suggests an addition to the warrior code, that all true warriors scorn the easy life of a kittypet. But you’ll make ThunderClan as strong as it ever was, Sunfall. My last act as leader is to entrust my Clan to you, and I do so with confidence.”

Sunfall dipped his head. “I am honored, Pinestar. I promise I will do my best.”

Pinestar sprang down the smooth gray rock. He stared at his Clan, and though no fear showed in his eyes, Bluefur guessed he was wondering if they’d let him leave without a fight. After all, he was a kittypet now.

Sunfall stepped forward and touched Pinestar’s flank with the tip of his tail. “You have led us well, Pinestar,” he meowed.

Larksong padded stiffly to her leader’s side, her eyes dark with sorrow. “We will miss you.”

White-eye tucked her tail over her paws. “Sunfall will make a good leader,” she declared, looking around for agreement.

Murmurs of acceptance rippled through the Clan, though Stormtail and Adderfang kept a stony silence. As Pinestar wove among his Clanmates for the last time, Thistleclaw flinched away. Bluefur felt a flash of irritation with his lack of respect. Did he think wanting to be a kittypet could be caught as if it were greencough?

Or was he right? Was abandoning the position of Clan leader a betrayal that could never be forgiven?

She fought down the urge to back away as Pinestar approached them and paused beside Lionpaw.

“Thank you,” Pinestar murmured.

Lionpaw dipped his head.

“You were right,” Pinestar went on. “I had to tell the Clan myself. It would not have been fair to them, or to you, to do anything else. You have a good spirit, young one. When it is time for you to receive your warrior name, tell Sunfall I would have called you Lionheart.”

Bluefur cocked her head. So Lionpaw had known what Pinestar was up to. And he had kept it secret out of loyalty to his leader. She was impressed.

Leopardfoot stepped forward. “Pinestar, what about our kits? Won’t you stay to watch them grow up?” She nodded to the three tiny cats beside her. She had coaxed them out of the nursery when she heard Pinestar’s announcement. The two she-cats slumped on the ground with glazed eyes, but Tigerkit, his shoulders already broad and strong beneath his fluffy pelt, pounced on his father’s tail.

Pinestar gently drew it away. “They’ll be fine with you, Leopardfoot. I’m not a father they could be proud of, but I will always be proud of them. Especially you, little warrior,” he added, bending down to touch his muzzle to the dark tabby’s ears.

Tigerkit gazed up at him with huge amber eyes and growled, showing tiny thorn-sharp teeth.

“Be strong, my precious son,” Pinestar murmured. “Serve your Clan well.”

He nodded, then padded softly into the gorse tunnel and disappeared.

The Clan began to chatter like a flock of startled crows.

“We have no leader!” Speckletail’s pale tabby pelt bristled with worry.

“Sunfall is our leader now,” Tawnyspots pointed out.

“But he hasn’t been blessed by StarClan,” Sparrowpelt fretted.

Sunfall jumped up onto Highrock. “I understand your fears,” he called. “I will travel to the Moonstone tonight.”

Goosefeather was staring at him, horror sparking his gaze. “StarClan will never allow it!” The disheveled old medicine cat was trembling. “Pinestar should have shared dreams with them first, told them what he was planning. How will you receive nine lives if Pinestar has not properly given up his leadership?”

Behind her, Bluefur heard Adderfang murmur: “Isn’t it about time Goosefeather thought about giving up his own role?”

Weedwhisker replied, “Steady, young ’un. He’s served the Clan well for many moons. Don’t turn against him now.”

There was a shuffling sound as Larksong wriggled into a more comfortable position. “I’ll talk to him,” she whispered. “See if I can persuade him to join us in our den. Featherwhisker is plenty able to take his place now.”

“He’s more than able!” hissed Robinwing. “He’s been doing most of the medicine cat duties on his own for StarClan knows how long! We should have stopped listening to the raddled old fleabag moons ago.”

“Hush!” came a fierce whisper from Tawnyspots. “Show some respect!”

In the center of the clearing, Featherwhisker stepped forward. “I will come with you to the Moonstone, Sunfall.”

A murmur passed through the Clan, and Bluefur wondered if he’d overheard the elders talking about inviting Goosefeather to give up his duties and join them beneath the fallen tree. The old medicine cat was standing with his fur on end and his eyes mad, glaring at nothing. It seemed like it might be a kindness to set him free from his responsibilities and let his denmate take over.

“Our ancestors will not abandon us at this troubled time,” Featherwhisker went on. “Have faith.”