Bluestar's Prophecy

Chapter 38

The yew branches rustled as Bluefur’s Clanmates filed into the den, bringing with them the tang of a cold leaf-bare wind. They had just returned from the Gathering.

Bluefur lifted her head. “How was it?” She yawned, wanting only to go back to sleep. She had been so tired lately, drowsiness weighting her paws through the day, her sleep heavy at night. She’d felt unusually clumsy in the training hollow, too, and was relieved that Frostfur had been made a warrior, along with her sister, Brindleface. With no more training sessions to attend, she’d had a chance to let her battle practice slide.

Rosetail kneaded her nest and stepped into it. “I’ll tell you in the morning,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

Leopardfoot was more talkative, clearly still buzzing from the Gathering as she plumped up the bracken in the nest on Bluefur’s other side. “Hailstar lost his ninth life,” she announced. “He was bitten by a rat.”

Bluefur sat up. “He’s dead?”

“Yes. Crookedstar’s the leader of RiverClan now.”

“Who is the new deputy?” Bluefur pricked her ears. She knew Oakheart had set his heart on it.

“Timberfur.”

Timberfur? But Oakheart is Crookedstar’s brother. How could he overlook him like that? Bluefur kept the thought to herself. She hadn’t seen Oakheart in the last moon—not since they’d met at Fourtrees. She’d avoided the Gathering by telling Sunstar that she’d wrenched her shoulder jumping down the ravine. She couldn’t bear to see the tree where they’d sat, or the remnants of the nest they’d made together. And to see Oakheart himself and not be able to share more than polite words would have been agony.

“And there was a fight,” Leopardfoot breathed.

“At the Gathering?” Bluefur was shocked.

“A new ShadowClan apprentice called Brokenpaw went for two RiverClan apprentices. Oakheart had to break it up.”

He was there! Pain pierced her heart like a thorn. He would have been looking for her. She hoped he understood why she hadn’t gone.

“Tigerclaw wanted to join in,” Leopardfoot added. “Thistleclaw practically had to sit on him to stop him. Cedarstar was so embarrassed. He assigned Brokenpaw to clean the elders’ den for the next moon. You should have seen Raggedpelt’s face when he did that. He was furious. He acted like he was proud that Brokenpaw nearly shredded two apprentices.” Leopardfoot shook her head. “ShadowClan is turning into a bunch of fox-hearts.”

Bluefur settled back into her nest, picturing Oakheart as her eyes grew heavy with sleep.

Leopardfoot chatted on. WindClan had lost their plumpness already. RiverClan had acted like they’d never had Sunningrocks in the first place…

Bluefur dozed.

“I’m not surprised you didn’t come tonight.” Leopardfoot’s comment jolted her awake.

“Why?”

“Have you told Sunstar yet?”

Told him what? Bluefur’s heart began to race. Did Leopardfoot know something? Had someone at the Gathering given their secret away?

“Told him what?” she asked shakily.

Leopardfoot blinked at her. “That you’re expecting kits.”

Expecting kits?

I can’t be! Bluefur stared at her denmate in horror. How does she know?

“Don’t worry about being nervous.” Leopardfoot brushed her tail along Bluefur’s flank. “It’s natural the first time.”

Rosetail was awake now. “Bluefur! You’re having kits? Why didn’t you tell me? Does Thrushpelt know yet?”

“Keep your voice down!” Bluefur hissed.

Rosetail ducked closer. “Sorry,” she whispered. “But I’m so pleased. I knew there was something going on between you and Thrushpelt. He’ll make a brilliant father.”

Leopardfoot’s ears twitched. “I didn’t know there was anything going on between you and Thrushpelt.”

There isn’t! Bluefur bit back the words. They’d only want to know who the real father was. “Don’t say anything to him,” she pleaded.

“You want to tell him yourself, of course,” Leopardfoot purred. “I understand. But you’re going to have to say something soon. You’re getting awfully big. Even the toms will be noticing soon.”

As Leopardfoot and Rosetail settled down to sleep beside her, Bluefur gazed into the darkness at the edge of the den. I’m sorry, she murmured under her breath. Snowfur, Moonflower, forgive me. I never meant for this to happen.

When morning came she heaved herself from her nest, suddenly aware of the extra weight in her belly. How had she not noticed? Outside, the warriors were gathering around Adderfang, who was assigning duties for the day. Tawnyspots slept in the medicine den now, and had pretty much given up his role as deputy.

Bluefur stumbled past her Clanmates and headed for Sunstar’s den. Pausing outside, she called through the lichen. “Can I speak with you?”

“Is that Bluefur?” Sunstar’s voice echoed from inside. “Come in.”

Bluefur nosed through the lichen, fighting queasiness.

Sunstar was sitting beside his nest, washing his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not feeling well,” Bluefur told him. “May I be excused from patrols?”

Sunstar tilted his head to one side. “Is it something you’ve eaten?”

“Maybe.”

“Of course you’re excused, but you must see Featherwhisker if you don’t feel better by sunhigh.”

“I just need some fresh air,” Bluefur assured him, backing out of the den. She headed for the camp entrance, seeking the solitude and peace of the forest.

Thrushpelt broke away from the knot of warriors and caught up to her as she neared the gorse tunnel. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Bluefur didn’t even look at him, but kept walking. Her ears burned. She couldn’t believe she’d let Leopardfoot and Rosetail believe that he was the father.

Thrushpelt fell back and left her alone to squeeze through the tunnel. It pricked her sides, raking her fur into stripes. Her belly had swollen. Bluefur felt heavy and tired as she hauled herself up the side of the ravine. She was breathless by the time she reached the top. She sat and looked down at her round belly. Were there really kits growing inside her? A rush of protectiveness surged through her, and she leaned down awkwardly to lick the soft fur.

The sound of the first patrol leaving the camp made her stand up and trot into the cover of the ferns. She kept going until the noise faded behind her. When she looked up, the trees ahead were thinning, outlined against the sky. Her paws had led her to the river. She was honest enough with herself to know that she wanted the reassurance of Oakheart. She wanted to share her news. But would he still be looking out for her?

She padded down the smooth stone slope and sat at the water’s edge. The far bank had been stripped by leaf-bare frosts, and she could see far into the trees. What would happen now? How would she explain these kits? Water will destroy you. Was this what the prophecy meant? Having kits that were half-RiverClan?

Clouds covered the sky, yellow and heavy with the threat of snow. Bluefur shivered and scanned the far bank once more. She couldn’t wait any longer. She was hungry and cold. As she turned, disappointed, to head up the bank, a flash of movement on the other side of the river caught her eye. She leaned forward hopefully, her heart quickening when she recognized the sleek, tawny pelt of Oakheart.

But there were other cats with him. He was on a patrol, flanked by Owlfur and Ottersplash. Bluefur backed away as the RiverClan patrol padded to the river’s edge, but it was too late. The cats had spotted her.

Ottersplash scowled across the water. “Hoping for fish?” she sneered.

Oakheart didn’t look at Bluefur. “ThunderClan doesn’t like getting their paws wet,” he reminded the she-cat. “You two go back to camp and tell Crookedstar that ThunderClan is at the border,” Oakheart told his Clanmates. “I’ll stay here and see how many more of them are hanging around.”

Ottersplash and Owlfur hared away into the trees.

Oakheart stood on the shore with water lapping his paws. “It’s been a while,” he called across the dark, swirling river.

“I—I need you.”

Hope flared in Oakheart’s eyes. Bluefur winced, anticipating his disappointment with a pang. Did he really think she’d come to tell him they could meet in secret again?

He slid into the water and swam across, unswerving despite the tug of the current, gliding through the water as smoothly as an otter. He padded onto the stones and trotted to her side. “What’s the matter?”

Bluefur looked at her paws. She couldn’t just come out with it. She hadn’t seen him in a moon. How would he react? “Your brother didn’t make you deputy,” she meowed.

“No.”

“But I thought you wanted to be leader one day.”

“He offered. I refused. I haven’t earned it yet. But I will.” Oakheart glanced over his shoulder. “We don’t have long. What’s the matter?”

“Are you disappointed—about not being deputy?”

“Bluefur!” His mew grew stern. “Crookedstar is about to send a patrol.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to have kits.”

Oakheart’s eyes widened like an owl’s. Bluefur waited for him to say something while the forest whirled around her and the ground swayed beneath her paws.

“It’ll be all right.” He pressed against her, his wet fur icy on her pelt. “Our kits will be great. Brave and strong and clever—good at swimming and climbing trees!”

Bluefur flinched. He was completely missing the point. “We’re in different Clans,” she reminded him.

“That’s a problem,” Oakheart admitted. “But you can join RiverClan, or I can join ThunderClan. It’s been done before.”

“Has it?” Bluefur demanded.

“There’s a cat in your Clan—Windflight—whose father was WindClan. Didn’t you know that?”

Bluefur shook her head, shocked. No cat had ever mentioned it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“So why does no one talk about it?” she snapped.

Oakheart shrugged.

Bluefur knew why. “Because if it’s true, they’re all too ashamed. The ThunderClan cats who let Windflight be raised in their camp, the WindClan cats who didn’t claim him as their own. They’d rather forget it. Do you want our kits to grow up like that?”

“But if I joined ThunderClan, they’d be ThunderClan kits,” Oakheart argued.

Bluefur stared. “You’d do that for me?”

“For you and for our kits, in a heartbeat.”

“But you want to become leader one day. You could never do that in ThunderClan. You’d always be an outsider.”

Oakheart lowered his gaze. “There are plenty of cats in RiverClan who want to be leader.”

“But you could do it!” Bluefur felt wretched. She couldn’t let him give up his dream. “You can’t leave your Clan.”

“Then will you leave yours and come to live with RiverClan?”

“I can’t.”

“If you’re worried about the swimming, I’ll teach you, like I promised.”

“It’s not that.” Bluefur thought of Thistleclaw with ambition burning in his eyes, and Goosefeather’s words: Blood lies in his path. Fire lies in yours. “My Clan needs me.”

Oakheart’s eyes glazed. “I need you, too.”

Bluefur slowly shook her head. “No, you don’t. I’m going to raise these kits as ThunderClan. My Clanmates will assume that a ThunderClan cat is the father.”

Oakheart drew away sharply. “Any cat in particular?”

“No!” It came as a sob. “But this is the only way it can be. Don’t you see that? To give our kits the best chance, I must raise them as if they were pure ThunderClan.”

“What about me?” Oakheart protested.

Bluefur curled her lip. “It’s my problem,” she growled, turning to leave. “I’m the one having these kits. I’ll be the one raising them without a father!”

“They can have a father if you want,” Oakheart breathed.

Bluefur felt something move in her belly. The kits were starting to fidget. Did they know what was going on? I’ll make it okay, she promised them as she headed up the bank.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” Oakheart called after her. “I love you, Bluefur. Whatever happens, they will always be my kits, too!”