Bluestar's Prophecy

Chapter 24

As the sun set the following day, Bluefur was on her way to find Snowfur with a vole to share when she nearly tripped over Thistleclaw, dozing beside the nettle patch. He had sat up all night with Sweetpaw’s body, Rosepaw and Poppydawn grieving beside him, and then buried her before dawn.

“He insisted on doing it himself, with no help,” Snowfur whispered to Bluefur when she made it safely around the sleeping warrior with the vole. “He’s such a loyal brother.”

“You told me earlier,” Bluefur muttered. She was trying to ignore the dreamy look in her sister’s eyes. I’ll never behave like a cooing dove over any cat, she decided.

As the Clan shared tongues at the edges of the clearing, Bluefur basked in the cool evening breeze. She was relieved that the fierce greenleaf sun was disappearing behind the top of the ravine. She didn’t envy Sunfall and Featherwhisker their parched journey from the Moonstone today. If all went well, they would be back soon, hungry and thirsty.

She was just sitting up to check whether there was some decent fresh-kill left for them when stones clattered down the side of the ravine beyond the gorse tunnel. Adderfang got to his paws and stared expectantly at the entrance to the camp. Stormtail gulped the last of his mouse and licked his lips. Larksong sat up stiffly and pricked her ears.

Bluefur tasted Sunfall’s scent a moment before he padded into camp with Featherwhisker following.

Speckletail was the first to speak. “What did StarClan say?” she blurted out, getting to her paws.

Sunfall padded across the clearing and mounted Highrock. All eyes turned to the orange warrior, who already looked comfortable on the gray stone. “Clanmates,” Sunfall began, “StarClan has approved me as leader and given me nine lives.”

Cheers erupted from the Clan. “Sunstar! Sunstar! Sunstar!” they called to the darkening sky.

“Sunstar!” Bluefur yowled gleefully, feeling a rush of pride in her former mentor. Then something caught her eye, and she closed her mouth with a snap.

Why wasn’t Goosefeather joining in with Sunstar’s welcome?

The medicine cat sat at the base of Highrock, his eyes dark, searching the faces of his Clanmates. When his gaze reached her, cold and burning at the same time, Bluefur blinked and began cheering once more.

Sunstar signaled with his tail to one of the cats below him. “Tawnyspots, I would like you to be my deputy.”

The light gray tabby tom dipped his head. “I would be honored, Sunstar. I will serve you well and will always be loyal to my Clan above everything.”

Rosepaw nudged her mentor, her eyes shining, while Stormtail nodded respectfully to the new ThunderClan deputy.

“Congratulations.” Adderfang’s deep mew sounded across the clearing and was quickly echoed by his Clanmates.

“There is one more duty I wish to perform today as the new ThunderClan leader.”

The Clan looked up as Sunstar spoke.

“Rosepaw fought bravely against RiverClan and has earned her warrior name.”

The young tabby flicked her tail as Poppydawn hurried to her side and began smoothing her fur. Windflight gazed proudly at his daughter, though Bluefur could see sadness lingering in his gaze. Sweetpaw should have been a warrior today, too.

Sunstar stayed on Highrock as Rosepaw padded into the center of the clearing. “Rosepaw, from this moment you will be known as Rosetail. StarClan honors your intelligence and loyalty, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan. Serve your Clan well.”

Rosetail dipped her head as her Clanmates called her name.

Tawnyspots padded forward and pressed his muzzle between her ears. “I’m very proud of you,” he murmured.

Sunstar spoke again. “ThunderClan has kits in the nursery, and the warriors’ den is full. We face troubles, it is true. RiverClan pushes at our borders, and kittypets threaten our prey. But the Clan is well fed, and the forest is rich in prey. I vow to make ThunderClan as powerful as the great Clans of old. Today’s ThunderClan will be remembered alongside TigerClan and LionClan. Our warriors are courageous and loyal and skilled in battle. There is no reason to feel besieged by our enemies. We have defeated them before and we will do so again. Let me carry you forward to a new era in which ThunderClan is so respected and feared that no cat will dare set paw on our lands.”

When will he take back Sunningrocks? Bluefur pressed her claws into the earth. She wanted to see the look on Oakheart’s arrogant face as they drove those thieving fox-hearts back across the border.

Tails swished and paws kneaded the ground. “Sunstar! Sunstar!” The cheer rose again from the excited Clan.

Sunstar lifted his chin, his pelt gleaming in the moonlight, and let his Clan cheer until the trees seemed to tremble with the noise.

Bluefur longed to be standing in his paw prints. He had lifted his Clan from anxiety to hope. Imagine being up there, looking down at his Clanmates—the power he must feel. Her mouth felt dry with sudden, raw hunger.

Beside her, Thistleclaw leaned closer to Snowfur and whispered in her ear. Pricking her ears, Bluefur strained to hear.

“I’m going to be up there one day,” hissed the young warrior, “addressing the Clan.”

As Snowfur purred encouragingly, Bluefur felt the fur lift along her spine. Not if I get there first!

“Thrushpelt!” Tawnyspots was organizing the patrols. Dawn had not yet broken, and the camp glowed in the half-light. “Take Speckletail, Fuzzypelt, White-eye, and Bluefur to patrol the RiverClan border. Stormtail, Robinwing, and Thistleclaw, patrol ShadowClan’s boundary.”

Stormtail nodded and led his patrol toward the gorse barrier.

Thrushpelt leaned toward Bluefur, his whiskers twitching. “I hope Snowfur can manage without Thistleclaw for a few heartbeats,” he mewed.

Bluefur flicked him away with her tail. Was the whole Clan gossiping about Snowfur and Thistleclaw? Why did her sister have to be so obvious? Prickling with embarrassment, she headed for the ravine.

“Sorry.” Thrushpelt caught up to her. “I thought you’d find it funny.”

“Well, I don’t,” Bluefur snapped.

Tail down, Thrushpelt led the patrol to the RiverClan border. Bluefur started to feel guilty for snapping at him. The sandy-gray warrior had just been teasing. But the sooner he learned he couldn’t tease her about her sister, the better!

“No scents.” Thrushpelt stood at the border, tasting the air. “We’ll re-mark the border and head back.”

A few battered brambles and scuffed flecks of blood were all that betrayed the battle that had taken place there not long ago.

“Do you think they’ll try it again?” Speckletail ventured.

Thrushpelt shook his head. “I think they learned their lesson, the mangy furballs. And once Sunstar takes back Sunningrocks, the border will be easier to patrol.”

“Do you think he will?” Bluefur asked.

“I hope so,” Thrushpelt replied. “Or we’ll never regain the respect of the Clans.”

Bluefur only half heard him. She was gazing through the trees at the smooth rocks, pink in the dawn light. They were bare—no sign of RiverClan warriors, even in the shadows. Bluefur searched the far bank. No cats there, either. What had she expected? To see Crookedjaw or Oakheart skulking through the bushes, planning the next attack?

Had the two warriors been disappointed about missing the battle? She could imagine Oakheart, as arrogant as Thistleclaw, boasting to his Clanmates that RiverClan would have won if he’d been fighting.

“Bluefur?” Thrushpelt’s mew startled her out of her thoughts. “Are you coming?”

The rest of the patrol was already heading away through the trees. Thrushpelt had stopped and was looking back at her.

“Yes!” Bluefur hurried after them.

Her belly was rumbling by the time they reached the camp. The fresh-kill pile was still stocked from yesterday’s hunting, and she was looking forward to a juicy vole.

“Bluefur!” Snowfur called to her. The white warrior was hurrying across the clearing toward her, the morning sun dazzling off her freshly groomed pelt.

Bluefur sighed. “Is it urgent? I was just going to eat.”

“Come hunting with me,” Snowfur begged. “If you’ve already been on patrol, you can eat while we’re out.” Her eyes were round and hopeful, and Bluefur couldn’t refuse, despite her growling belly. At least forest prey will be warm. And if she didn’t go with Snowfur, Thistleclaw probably would.

She followed her sister out of the camp, and by the time they’d reached the top of the ravine, she was looking forward to hunting. Leaves swished in the warm breeze, and the forest rustled with prey. Bluefur could barely remember the last time she’d been cold. She tried to imagine leaf-bare—shivering in snow, billowing clouds of breath—but it seemed too far away. Right now, it felt as though greenleaf would never end.

“Where should we hunt?” she asked Snowfur.

Snowfur shrugged.

“I thought you wanted to hunt.”

“I guess.”

Bluefur snorted. Her sister was dreamier than ever. She pushed on into the forest, determined to bring Snowfur back to the real world. “Are you happy that Sunstar is our leader now?”

“Of course,” Snowfur answered.

“But it feels like everything’s changed,” Bluefur murmured. She ducked under a bramble and held it back with her tail while Snowfur joined her. “Pinestar’s gone, Goosefeather’s crazier than a fox, and Sweetpaw’s dead. She was younger than us!”

Snowfur paused to nose a pale blue flower hanging over the path. “But there’s always new life,” she mewed softly.

Bluefur blinked. “What do you mean?”

Her sister lowered her muzzle and looked at her. Above her head, the blue flower nodded as if it were listening. “I’m expecting kits.”

The ground seemed to dip under Bluefur’s paws. “Already?” she gasped. They were only just warriors! What did Snowfur want to bother with kits for?

Snowfur’s eyes clouded. “Aren’t you pleased?”

“Of…of course,” Bluefur mumbled. “I just didn’t expect—”

Snowfur cut her off. “Thistleclaw’s overjoyed,” she mewed. “He says the Clan needs new warriors. There are only Lionpaw and Goldenpaw in the apprentices’ den.”

Well, as long as Thistleclaw’s pleased, that’s all right, then. Bluefur bit back the cutting remark. She didn’t want to spoil her sister’s happiness. But something inside her felt cold as snow, filling her up and choking her from within. Snowfur suddenly seemed further away than ever. She’d be in the nursery soon, and then fussing over her kits with Thistleclaw. Is this the last time we’ll ever go hunting?

“He’ll make a good father, you know.” Snowfur seemed to be trying to reassure her. “I mean, I know you don’t like him, but he is good and kind.”

Bluefur stared at her sister, trying to imagine Thistleclaw being kind.

“He’s a loyal mate, and I trust him,” Snowfur insisted.

Bluefur sighed. Snowfur’s eyes were filled with worry. Bluefur couldn’t let her feel like this. “I’m thrilled for you, I really am,” she mewed. Absently she plucked up a wad of moss and let it drop from her claw. ThunderClan did need kits. The three young ones in Leopardfoot’s litter weren’t exactly strong, and Thistleclaw was right: ThunderClan needed more apprentices. And…Snowfur’s kits would be her kin. Bluefur glanced up at the sky, wondering what Moonflower thought about the new kits. She realized that her mother would be pleased that Snowfur was happy.

Bluefur pressed her muzzle to her sister’s cheek.

I’ll be happy, too. I promise.