Crookedstar’s Promise

Chapter 26

Leaf-fall had reddened the willow and darkened the sedge. Crookedjaw shivered as a cold wind swept through the camp. “Come on!” he called to the kits. “Let’s warm up with a game.” His charges—who were close to becoming ’paws now that they were five moons old—padded disdainfully around him.

Skykit sniffed. “We want to learn battle moves.”

“The camp may be invaded by Twolegs any moment!” Reedkit flicked his long, reed-straight tail.

Crookedjaw purred. “I don’t think a patrol of kits doing forepaw slashes is going to drive them off.”

Blackkit growled. “Just you wait!”

“We’ll shred them!” Frogkit barged past his denmate and squared up to Crookedjaw. “Show me that move you talked about, the forepaw slash.”

Crookedjaw started to feel trapped. He glanced toward the nursery where Shimmerpelt and Lakeshine were busy clearing out their greenleaf nests. Ottersplash had just delivered a bundle of fresh reeds from the river to weave into sturdier leaf-bare nests that would keep out the cold wind.

“Hey, Ottersplash, I could fetch reeds if you like!” Crookedjaw called. And you can watch your kits!

“Thanks, Crookedjaw.” Ottersplash dropped her bundle and turned back for more. “But they’d much rather hang out with a warrior than with their mothers.”

Crookedjaw scanned the entrance to the camp, hoping Cedarpelt, Piketooth, or Timberfur would return and take over kit duty. Willowbreeze was taking them on a hunting patrol—her first as patrol leader. They were fishing below Sunningrocks where the fish lurked in the cool shadows. He wondered how she was doing.

“Go on!” Sunkit interrupted his thoughts. “Show us a forepaw slash.”

“Lakeshine says you’re too young to learn battle moves,” Crookedjaw told her.

Sunkit glowered at her mother, who was pulling wisps of stale moss out of the nursery. “Ottersplash doesn’t think we’re too young.”

Ottersplash called from the reed bed. “They’re never too young to start training!”

Lakeshine reproached her with a sharp look. “I don’t want them to get hurt.”

“You can’t wrap them up in feathers,” Ottersplash argued.

Shimmerpelt sat back from her work and shook her head. “There’s no hurry. They’ll be ’paws soon,” she reminded both queens. “It won’t be long till they can learn all the battle moves they want.”

Loudkit flexed his claws. “What if the Twolegs do invade the camp?”

Crookedjaw sat down. “They won’t.” There had been plenty of pelt-dens in the field this green-leaf, but as the colder weather set in, fewer Twolegs came. “Hey, Oakheart!” He called across the clearing to his brother, who was organizing a fresh border patrol. “The Twolegs won’t invade the camp, will they?”

Oakheart shook his head. “We’ve kept a close eye on them for moons,” he reassured the kits. “They rarely stray as far as the marsh meadow.” Oakheart had taken on responsibility for patrolling the Twoleg field in the moons since Willowbreeze had been stolen. He made a daily check on the pelt-dens, monitoring their arrival and disappearance, he’d invented patrol strategies for distracting Twolegs should they ever wander near the camp, and he could get a patrol of warriors right around the field without being spotted.

Leopardkit brushed against Crookedjaw. Younger than her denmates, her pelt was still soft as duck down. “Please teach us a battle move?” She gazed up at Crookedjaw with round, dark eyes.

His whiskers twitched. The whole Clan had spoiled the motherless kit, especially her father Mudfur, who doted on her, and she could wrap almost any Clanmate around her tail.

Leopardkit blinked sweetly and purred, “Please?”

“Don’t you dare teach her anything!” Shimmerpelt bustled over and shooed Leopardkit away. “Mudfur would be horrified if he came back and found her fighting!” Though the night-black queen was fiercely fond of her adopted kit, she wasn’t as easily swayed as the rest of the Clan by Leopardkit’s wiles.

“Come on!” Sunkit bounced around him. “Tell us what to do!”

“We could stalk Oakheart!” Crookedjaw proposed. “First one to creep up on him wins.”

Oakheart flicked his tail. “Sorry, Crookedjaw. We’re leaving.” He headed for the gap in the reeds with Petaldust and Whitefang at his heels.

Blackkit clawed the ground. “Why don’t we stalk you instead?” He sprang and landed on Crookedjaw’s back.

Crookedjaw staggered dramatically, wincing as the other kits joined in. Collapsing under a storm of churning, flailing paws, he sank grunting to the ground and writhed like a captured pike. The kits squealed as he flung them back and forth, tugging his fur in an effort to cling on.

“Look!” Skykit’s excited squeak caused a fresh flurry of paws.

Frogkit yowled with delight. “The hunting patrol’s back!”

The kits scrambled off Crookedjaw and charged for the fresh-kill pile.

“I want carp!” Leopardkit pattered on the ground as she raced to keep up.

Crookedjaw sat up, sighing. “Thank StarClan.”

Willowbreeze, Cedarpelt, and Timberfur were stacking their catch beside the reed bed. Piketooth dropped his trout and turned in surprise as the kits surged past him, knocking the pile of fish flying.

“Careful!” Cedarpelt yelped, grabbing for a trout as it skidded toward the river. “We just got them out. Don’t put them back!”

Willowbreeze crossed the clearing, eyes shining as she neared Crookedjaw. “It looks like I got back just in time,” she purred. “You were about to be devoured by a school of starving kits.” She touched her muzzle to his affectionately.

Crookedjaw ducked away.

“What?” Willowbreeze’s eyes flashed with hurt.

“Not here.”

He could feel Shimmerpelt’s and Lakeshine’s eyes on them—storing up gossip. He’d grown closer and closer to Willowbreeze since he’d rescued her from the Twolegs, but he hated the way the Clan watched them. He knew they were waiting for them to announce they were mates. He could picture Hailstar yowling the news from the Great Rock next Gathering. He snorted crossly. Why couldn’t his Clanmates mind their own business?

“Okay.” Willowbreeze briskly smoothed his fur with her tail and sniffed.

Crookedjaw shrugged apologetically. “Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested. Now that Cedarpelt and Piketooth were back, there was no need to watch the kits.

Willowbreeze flicked her tail past his nose and turned and headed for the entrance. They padded in silence along the grassy path.

“I don’t see why you have to be so embarrassed,” Willowbreeze meowed.

Crookedjaw stared at his paws. “I don’t want my Clanmates to think I’m soft.”

“It’s not soft to have feelings for another cat!” Willowbreeze challenged. “Do you think Hailstar’s soft? Or Cedarpelt? Or Timberfur? They all have mates!”

“I’m sorry,” Crookedjaw murmured. He ducked under a hawthorn bush and padded into the alder grove. It was bright under the trees now that leaf-bare had begun to strip the leaves.

“Do you remember your assessment?” Crookedjaw changed the subject.

“Of course.” Willowbreeze nosed her way after him. “You watched me catch the blackbird.” Her mew softened.

“I could have watched you all day,” Crookedjaw mewed.

“And now you can’t?”

He looked at her, blinking. “Oh, I still could. But I’d get nothing useful done.” He flicked her muzzle playfully with the tip of his tail. “That would get us both into trouble!” Crookedjaw darted forward and scrambled up an alder trunk. Digging in his claws, he hauled himself onto the lowest branch. “Come on!”

Willowbreeze narrowed her eyes. She climbed the alder beside his, scooted along a low branch, and leaped into the next tree. The bough swayed under her weight. Crookedjaw purred. If she could climb like a squirrel, so could he! He flung himself into the branches of the next alder, clinging tight with his claws as it shivered beneath him. Willowbreeze lifted her chin and raced onward, leaping from branch to branch alongside him, light as a blackbird. Crookedjaw matched her tree for tree until they’d crossed the whole grove without touching the ground.

“Can you do this?” Crookedjaw jumped onto a higher branch, then higher, till he was at the spindly top of the tree.

Willowbreeze gasped. “Watch out!”

The branches slumped under his weight. Bark splintered and wood cracked. Squawking with surprise, Crookedjaw slithered through the tree like a stone dropping through water. Heart lurching, he stretched out his claws and grabbed hold of a branch. He hung for a moment, his hind paws churning the air before finding a hold on the trunk. Catching his breath, he lowered himself carefully and dropped to the ground.

“You frog-brain!” Willowbreeze jumped down and glared at him. “I thought you were going to hurt yourself!”

“Impossible.” Crookedjaw whisked his tail.

“How can you be so sure?” Her eyes glittered with worry.

She really cares! “I’m sorry I scared you,” he meowed softly. “But you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I worry every moment you’re out of my sight,” Willowbreeze confessed.

Crookedjaw touched his nose to her cheek. She was trembling. “Please don’t,” he begged. “I’ll be fine.”

“Stop saying that!” She circled him, bristling. “You don’t know that for sure!”

Crookedjaw blocked her path. He wondered for a moment whether to tell her about Mapleshade and his destiny. No. She’ll think I’m crazy. Why tell her when he could just show her by becoming the greatest leader any Clan had ever known?

“You’re right.” He pressed against her flank. “I don’t know for sure. But I’m so happy just being with you, it feels like nothing can hurt me.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he promised. “Everything will be fine. I love you.” She softened against him. “We’ll have a great life together,” he murmured. “Surrounded by our Clanmates.” He pulled away and looked deep into her eyes. “And our kits.”

A purr rumbled in her throat. “I love you, Crookedjaw.” She touched her muzzle to his ear. Her warm breath made him weak.

Suddenly a cold breeze lifted his fur. For a moment, Mapleshade’s scent drifted in the air and her voice echoed around him. Don’t forget your promise!

Crookedjaw closed his eyes and let the soft scent of Willowbreeze bathe him. Mapleshade was wrong. Having a mate wouldn’t stop him from being a great leader. Hailstar had Echomist, and their kits Petaldust, Beetlenose, and Voleclaw. It didn’t distract him from his loyalty to the Clan or his readiness for battle.

“What’s that?” Willowbreeze jerked away, ears pricking.

A dog was yapping upstream. Hisses and yowls exploded nearby. It sounded like it had encountered a patrol.

“I’ll go and help!” Crookedjaw raced down the slope.

“Be careful!” Willowbreeze called after him.

Diving through the hawthorns, Crookedjaw spotted Whitefang and Petaldust at full pelt, chasing a small white dog. He charged after them. “Steer it past the camp!” he yowled.

Whitefang veered away, outflanking the dog and driving it onward, away from the camp entrance. They chased it up the slope and around the top of the camp. Crookedjaw’s heart thudded with excitement as he whipped around bushes and ducked under branches, keeping the dog in sight. Ahead, Whitefang and Petaldust matched each other step for step, steering it toward the marsh. As they broke from the trees the dog glanced over its shoulder. Its eyes gleamed white around the edges. It was terrified. Pounding the earth with desperate paws, it fled past the beech copse and hurtled into the long grass.

“Keep going!” Crookedjaw called.

Whitefang leaped over a clump of sedge as Petaldust swerved around it. The ground flashed beneath Crookedjaw’s paws as he hared after them. They crossed the marsh and drove the dog down onto the shore. Petaldust splashed into the shallows, keeping pace with the dog as it hurtled forward, sending stones cracking from under her paws. Whitefang pelted along the bank, hissing every time the dog tried to swerve up onto the grass.

Crookedjaw stayed at the rear, blocking the dog with a snarl if it tried to turn. “Twoleg!” he warned, spotting a figure on the bridge. He pulled up, pebbles clattering beneath his feet.

Whitefang and Petaldust slewed to a halt as the dog flung itself on to the bridge and bounded around the Twoleg, yapping with relief.

Crookedjaw circled his Clanmates as they flopped down on the shore. “Nice chase,” he puffed.

“Thanks.” Petaldust clambered to her paws once she had caught her breath.

Whitefang lifted his head. “We’d better carry on with our patrol.” He stood up and shook out his pelt.

“Where’s Oakheart?” Crookedjaw suddenly realized his brother was missing.

“Didn’t you see him?” Petaldust blinked at him in surprise. “He was heading your way. He thought he saw ThunderClan warriors on the shore below Sunningrocks. He went to investigate.”

Crookedjaw frowned. “Alone?”

“That’s what he wanted.” Whitefang shrugged. “He told us to check the Twoleg field and that he’d catch up.”

“I’ll check on him.” Crookedjaw flattened his ears. It was risky to check for intruders single-pawed. What was his brother thinking?

He found Oakheart near the alders, emerging from long grass. “What are you doing here?”

Oakheart looked startled. His pelt was wet.

“Are you okay?” Crookedjaw meowed. “Whitefang said you saw cats from ThunderClan.”

“Just one warrior.” Oakheart’s voice was casual as he padded past, heading for the camp. “I chased her off.”

Crookedjaw picked up a trace of familiar scent on his brother’s pelt. “Was it Bluefur?”

Oakheart whipped around. “How did you know?”

“I recognized her scent.” Crookedjaw searched Oakheart’s gaze. Was he hiding something? Was Bluefur causing trouble? “Did you fight? Did she beat you?” He remembered with a shudder what a fierce opponent Bluefur could be.

Oakheart turned toward camp. “I drove her back into the forest.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t much of a fight. Nothing worth mentioning. Why start a battle over something so small?”

Crookedjaw watched his brother pad away. “What about your patrol? They chased a dog as far as the bridge. They’re waiting for you.”

Oakheart paused. “The patrol!” He swerved to head upriver.

Crookedjaw tipped his head on one side. It wasn’t like Oakheart to be so reserved, especially about an encounter with another Clan. Perhaps the fight had been tougher than he wanted to admit. But he didn’t seem to have any injuries.

Crookedjaw shrugged. Oakheart was a great warrior. He’d be fine. He tasted the air, wondering if Willowbreeze was still near or if she’d given up waiting for him and returned to camp. He wanted to spend as much time with her as he could.