Bluestar's Prophecy

Chapter 43

“Come!” Featherwhisker called softly from the shadows inside Mothermouth.

Bluefur breathed the cold, mineral air flooding from the dark opening. It reminded her of her trip there many seasons before, with Pinestar. Now she had come to receive her nine lives. When she returned to her Clan she would be Bluestar, leader of ThunderClan.

She remembered Sunstar’s death with a pang. Weakened by illness, he’d been unable to outrun a Twoleg dog that was roaming loose in the forest. It had killed him before the patrol could drive it off. Bluefur mourned his loss deeply, regretting that he had not been able to share words with her before dying. But she took comfort in knowing that he had never wanted to suffer a slow death as Tawnyspots had, joining StarClan only after days of agony that even Featherwhisker’s herbs could not ease.

Featherwhisker led her down to the cave of the Moonstone. The darkness pressing around her still made Bluefur uncomfortable. It felt as though she were drowning in thick black water that she could taste but not feel. At the end of the tunnel, the cave was filled with shadows. Watery starlight filtered through the hole in the roof, scarcely penetrating the dark.

“Not long till moonhigh,” Featherwhisker promised.

Bluefur padded across the rough cave floor and lay at the foot of the Moonstone. It stood solid and dull in the center of the cave, untouched by moonlight. But as Bluefur rested her nose between her paws, the moon began to slip across the hole in the arching roof and the crystals began to shimmer like tiny trapped suns.

Dazzled, Bluefur flinched away.

“Press your nose against it,” Featherwhisker urged.

Screwing up her eyes, Bluefur leaned forward and touched the Moonstone. It was cold and smelled of darkness and old, old rock. Instantly the cave rushed away and Bluefur felt herself being swept through blackness, darker than night, tossed and swirled on an invisible river. Panic seized her and she struggled, flailing her paws, until suddenly she felt soft grass beneath them.

Blinking open her eyes, she saw the Great Rock rising above her and the four great oaks marking each corner of the clearing. She was at Fourtrees. Alone. She glanced up at the crow-black sky, speckled with stars.

Why were there no cats there to receive her? Didn’t StarClan want her to be the leader of ThunderClan? Perhaps the sacrifices she’d made were unforgivable.

Then the stars began to swirl like leaves caught in an eddy. They gathered speed until they blurred together in a silvery spiral, down, down, down toward the forest, toward Fourtrees, toward her.

Bluefur waited, her heart in her throat.

The spiral of starlight slowed, and the cats of StarClan stalked from the sky. Frost sparkled at their paws and glittered in their eyes. Their pelts shone like ice, and they carried the scent of all the seasons on their fur: the tang of leaf-bare snow mingled with the green scent of newleaf, the musk of leaf-fall, and the sweet blossom of greenleaf.

Countless cats lined the hollow—bodies shimmering, eyes blazing—and filled the slopes in silence. Bluefur crouched at the center. She forced herself to lift her head and look at the cats, and stretched her eyes wide when she realized that some faces were familiar. She recognized Mumblefoot and Weedwhisker, and beside them Larksong, who looked pleased to be with her denmates again. Goosefeather was with them; he’d died exactly as he’d predicted, on the first snow of leaf-bare.

And Pinestar! StarClan had accepted him after his ninth life, despite his betrayal. Bluefur felt a rush of joy to see the red-brown warrior sitting among his Clan, where he truly belonged. She met his eyes, and he nodded.

There were several cats Bluefur wanted to see more than any others. First she searched the ranks for a splash of white pelt. Snowfur! Her starry pelt dazzling, she gazed at Bluefur, eyes sparking with pride. Then a warm, familiar scent bathed Bluefur’s tongue. Moonflower was next to Snowfur, with her tail tucked over her paws, and pressed close to her pelt was Mosskit.

Bluefur sprang forward to nuzzle her daughter, but a warning glance from Moonflower halted her. Bluefur couldn’t bear to be so near and yet unable to touch the precious kit she’d grieved over for so long. She searched her daughter’s bright blue gaze, looking for reproach, but saw nothing but love. Mosskit was safe with Snowfur and Moonflower. There were no leaf-bare chills to hurt her where she was now.

“Welcome, Bluefur.” One clear mew seemed to ring with every voice she had known and loved.

She dipped her head, her mouth dry.

Pinestar stepped forward and touched his nose to Bluefur’s head. It scorched her fur like frost and flame, but she could not flinch away. Her paws were weighted like stones, her body frozen.

“With this life I give you compassion,” Pinestar murmured. “Judge as much with your heart as with your mind.”

A bolt of energy, fierce as lightning, seared through Bluefur. She stiffened against the pain, but it melted into a soft warmth that filled her from nose to tail-tip. She was left trembling as the warmth drained from her, and she braced herself for the next one.

As Pinestar turned away, another cat rose from the ranks of StarClan. Mumblefoot. He pressed his nose to her head. “With this life I give you endurance. Use it to keep going, even when you feel as though all hope and strength have left you.”

Her body was seized by a dull agony that stiffened her muscles and made her clench her jaw. “Endure it,” Mumblefoot whispered to her. “Have faith in your own strength.”

Bluefur let out her breath, and felt the pain ebb away. She felt as if she were plunging out of water, her fur tingling, her paws ready to run all the way back to the forest. Thank you, Mumblefoot.

Larksong was beside her now, touching her nose to Bluefur’s head. “With this life I give you humor. Use it to lighten the burdens of your Clan and to lift the spirits of your Clanmates when despair threatens.”

Something dazzling and flickering passed through her, making every hair on her pelt stand on end. “You will know when to use humor to help you,” Larksong told her, and Bluefur blinked gratefully.

Another cat was weaving through the ranks and toward her, a familiar face she hadn’t spotted before.

Sweetpaw!

The apprentice’s eyes shone like stars. Bluefur wanted to greet her but she couldn’t move or speak. Her heart ached with joy as Sweetpaw stretched up to rest her muzzle on the top of Bluefur’s head. “With this life I give you hope,” she announced solemnly. “Even on the darkest night, it will be there, waiting for you.”

Energy fired through Bluefur. She was running through the forest, her paws skimming the ground, with a bright light shining ahead of her. Is that hope? I will never lose sight of it, I promise.

Sweetpaw padded away, and Sunstar took her place. “With this life, I give you courage. You will know how to use it.” His gaze, filled with warmth and gratitude, locked with hers, and Bluefur felt satisfaction shimmer through her body, knowing she had served him well.

“With this life I give you patience.” It was Goosefeather’s turn. His gaze was lucid, his voice gentle. “You will need it.” As his nose brushed against her ears, peace flooded through her. Everything would happen in its turn; she just had to be ready to embrace it. Was this why Goosefeather had so rarely talked about the prophecy while she was growing up? Even after her kits were born, had he known everything would turn out as it should?

Which cat would give her a seventh life? She scanned the ranks and purred when she saw that Mosskit was padding forward, her tiny paws sending up sparks of starlight where they touched the ground. She had to rear up on her hind paws to touch Bluefur’s head. “With this life I give you trust. Believe in your Clan and in yourself. Never doubt that you know the right path to take.”

“Mosskit.” Bluefur managed to find her voice. “I…I’m so sorry.”

“I understand,” Mosskit mewed simply. “But I miss you.”

Moonflower came next. Bluefur’s heart ached as she felt her mother’s nose touch her head as gently as she’d done when she had lived. “With this life I give you love. Cherish your Clan as you cherished your kits, for now they all are your kin.”

The anxious faces of her Clanmates swarmed through Bluefur’s mind, and her body suddenly felt as if it were being crushed beneath the Moonstone. Bluefur fought for breath, feeling suffocated until light seemed to explode from her heart, spreading through her body and burning behind her eyes. It left her gasping, trembling on her paws.

Bluefur knew that her last life would come from Snowfur. Her sister had watched the ceremony through gentle, glowing eyes. Now she stepped forward.

“You have sacrificed so much,” Snowfur meowed. “And our Clan walks a safer path now.” Bluefur felt her breath stir her fur as her sister touched her head and went on. “With this life I give you pride, so that you may know your own worth and the worth of your Clan.”

Heat seared Bluefur’s pelt, until she glanced down at her body, convinced she must be on fire. It vanished with a hiss. Would she ever have that much faith in herself?

“Thank you for raising Whitestorm,” her sister purred. “It was easier to leave him, knowing he had you. Use all your nine lives for your Clan. We will be with you at every step. If you need us, we will come. You were chosen long ago, and StarClan has never regretted its choice.”