Bluestar's Prophecy

“Goosefeather and Featherwhisker visit StarClan all the time,” Whitekit argued. “I can do it, too.”

“It’s not that easy.” With every word, Bluefur felt herself getting more and more lost. How would she ever make him understand without breaking his heart? She gazed into his round blue eyes. The pain of Snowfur’s death was not hers alone. She was going to have to break his heart.

“She’s dead, Whitekit. You won’t see her anymore. You won’t smell her or hear her or feel her fur next to yours ever again.”

Robinwing nosed her way through the branches. “I’ll feed you and you’ll share my nest with Frostkit and Brindlekit,” she soothed.

Whitekit spat at her. “I don’t want your milk or your nest! I want Snowfur!”

He pelted past the queen and galloped into the clearing, stopping beside his mother’s body. “I’ll live out here now, with you,” he squeaked, pressing his nose into her cold fur.

Bluefur cowered into the branches, raw with grief.

“I’ll sit with him,” Robinwing murmured, turning away.

Thistleclaw stormed past her, forcing his way into the branches. “How could you let it happen?” he yowled at Bluefur. “What were you doing, taking her to the Thunderpath? She should have been in the nursery with Whitekit!”

“I—I’m sorry.”

“How could you even think of letting her put herself in danger when she had a kit to look after?” Thistleclaw hissed.

Bluefur stared hollow-eyed at her sister’s mate. He was right. This was all her fault.

“Leave!” Stormtail appeared behind Thistleclaw. He held a branch aside with his shoulders, leaving room to get out. “This isn’t helping any cat,” he growled.

Thistleclaw backed away, throwing a last angry glance at Bluefur.

Stormtail squeezed in beside her. His eyes shone with sorrow. “Adderfang told me.”

Bluefur stared at her paws. “I can’t lose Snowfur as well as Moonflower. Why did they both have to die?”

Stormtail shook his head. “Only StarClan knows that.”

“Then StarClan is stupid and cruel!”

“Life must go on.” Stormtail pressed against her. “You have other Clanmates.”

“Not like them. They were kin!”

“Your Clan depends on you as much as Snowfur and Moonflower did. More so.”

“I don’t care!”

Stormtail brushed his tail down her flank. “I know you do care. And I know you won’t let your Clanmates down. You must go on, hunting and fighting and living for your Clan.”

When she didn’t reply, he licked her between the ears and padded away.

Bluefur dug her claws into the ground and glared up at the pale gray sky, crisscrossed with bare branches. What was the point of being in a Clan when you couldn’t keep your most precious Clanmates safe?

Chapter 29

Bluefur hooked the dead mouse absently on her claw and let it fall onto the ground again with a damp plop. She had no appetite. Even the smell of fresh-kill made her queasy. Lying alone at the edge of the clearing, she studied her Clanmates through half-closed eyes. They were sharing tongues before tonight’s Gathering, murmuring cheerfully to one another as if Snowfur had never existed, though it was only half a moon since her death. Even Whitekit had started to stray more and more from Robinwing’s side and was playing Pounce with Tigerkit outside the nursery.

Bluefur rolled the mouse underneath her paw, caking it with dust.

Tawnyspots got to his paws and padded from the knot of warriors sharing prey beside the nettle patch. He glanced at the mouse. “That’s wasted fresh-kill now,” he observed. His tail was twitching. “Sunstar wants you to go to the Gathering.”

Bluefur sighed. Well, I don’t want to go. It was a long trek and the evening was chilly. And who made you my mentor? I’m a warrior now, remember?

“It’s time you started making an effort.” Tawnyspots looked sternly at her. “I’ve spared you from as many border patrols and hunting parties as I can, but all you do is mope around the camp. Perhaps if you started to act more like a Clan cat, you might feel better.” He glanced toward Whitekit, who was struggling to pin Tigerkit to the ground. “And you could show a little more interest in Whitekit.”

Bluefur stared blankly at her kin. Robinwing was taking good care of him. He didn’t need her. And the Clan seemed to be thriving without her help. After a rich greenleaf, they looked as sleek and well fed as RiverClan.

A low growl sounded in Tawnyspots’ throat. “You used to spend every spare moment with Whitekit. Now you never set paw in the nursery. He must feel like he’s lost two mothers instead of one.”

Bluefur scowled at him. Why was he trying to make her feel worse?

He went on. “Thistleclaw hasn’t let grief stop him caring for his Clan. And he’s spending more time with Whitekit, not less.”

“Good for him,” Bluefur muttered.

“What makes you so special that you can get away without doing anything for your Clan?” Tawnyspots demanded.