Crookedstar’s Promise

Chapter 34

The willows flailed their branches helplessly while the wind stripped their leaves. Reeds rattled and swayed as the river raged past, skidding up the banks and snatching pebbles from the shore. Crookedjaw watched the water race past his paws. Behind him, the wind moaned through the cracks and hollows of Sunningrocks. Ducking back against the cliff, out of the rain, he shivered and pulled his tail tighter around him. He spotted a head bobbing toward him through the swirling river.

Willowbreeze.

She hauled herself out of the water and shook out her pelt. “There you are.” She touched her muzzle to his. “I was worried about you.”

“I’m okay.” Crookedjaw blinked. “He liked to sit here and watch the river, you know.”

“Shellheart?”

He nodded, fresh grief piercing his heart. “Perhaps his spirit still comes here to fish.” It’d been three moons since he’d lain beside his father in the elders’ den. Two since he’d died.

“Even when he’s got the warm rivers of StarClan?”

Crookedjaw swallowed. “But he’ll miss his old river, surely?”

Willowbreeze settled beside him and leaned into him. “I’m sure he’s always watching from StarClan.” She flicked the tip of her tail. “He’ll want to see what his sons are up to.”

A purr rumbled in Crookedjaw’s throat.

Willowbreeze stiffened against him. “Ottersplash?”

The white-and-ginger she-cat was plowing across the river. She hopped out, eyes glittering. “ThunderClan warriors are crossing the stepping-stones!”

“Now?” Crookedjaw strained to see around the bend in the river.

“They’ll be in the camp any moment,” Ottersplash urged. “Hailstar wants you.”

Crookedjaw was already diving into the water. He swam expertly, navigating the swirling current with ease, and climbed out. Looking back to make sure Ottersplash and Willowbreeze were okay, he raced for camp. Through the drizzle, he could taste ThunderClan scent. They were headed this way. He swerved along the grassy path and raced into camp.

Hailstar was pacing the clearing, his pelt spiked. Sedgecreek and Frogleap puffed out their chests, clearly eager to prove themselves worthy of their new warrior names. Softwing stood wide-eyed outside the nursery, her tail wrapped around her two young kits. Her mate Owlfur crouched beside her, his eyes merely slits as he watched the entrance, then stood as Willowbreeze and Ottersplash dashed in. “Did you see them? How many?”

“Where are they?” Hailstar asked Ottersplash.

“Headed this way.”

Echomist hissed. “How dare they invade our territory?”

Rippleclaw lashed his tail. “I want to be in the battle patrol!”

“Me too!” Timberfur hurried forward with Cedarpelt on his tail. Sedgecreek and Frogleap darted after them, their eyes shining.

Hailstar waved them back. “Wait,” he growled. “This might not be an invasion.”

“It can’t be.” Fallowtail circled her leader. “They wouldn’t invade in broad daylight!”

“Then why are they here?” Timberfur growled.

Crookedjaw glanced at the entrance. “I’ll try to head them off before they reach camp.”

Hailstar flattened his ears. “Take Rippleclaw and Ottersplash with you.”

“Where’s Oakheart?” Crookedjaw scanned the camp.

“Fishing,” Echomist told him. “He went out with Lakeshine and Shimmerpelt just after dawn.”

“Find him and tell him what’s going on,” Crookedjaw ordered.

Echomist nodded and headed for the entrance.

“Not that way!” he hissed. “I don’t want you bumping into ThunderClan. Go out through the reed bed.”

Echomist slid into the water and disappeared among the reeds. Crookedjaw signaled to Ottersplash and Rippleclaw with his tail. “Let’s go meet our visitors.” He led the way through the tunnel.

Behind them, Hailstar started snapping orders. “Tell the elders to stay in their den,” he growled. “And guard it. I want three warriors by the nursery.”

Crookedjaw narrowed his eyes against the drizzle. The next bend might lead them into a bristling ThunderClan patrol. He unsheathed his claws. No ThunderClan cat would get past him.

“I hear them!” Ottersplash halted.

Crookedjaw pricked his ears. The invaders were chatting as though they were visiting Clanmates! He growled and darted around the corner with his hackles up. He skidded to a halt in front of Sunstar. The ThunderClan leader signaled to his patrol with his tail.

Crookedjaw unsheathed his claws. “What are you doing on RiverClan territory?”

Bluefur, Whitestorm, Thrushpelt, and Lionheart fanned out behind their leader, but Crookedjaw kept his gaze fixed on Sunstar.

“We want to talk with Hailstar.” The ThunderClan leader sounded as though he were asking a Clanmate for a piece of fresh-kill.

“About what?” Ottersplash thrust her muzzle forward.

Sunstar narrowed his eyes. “You expect me to share words that are meant for your leader?”

Ottersplash snarled. Keep calm. Crookedjaw waved the she-cat back with his tail. “You expect me to lead you straight into our camp?” he countered.

“Do we look like a battle patrol?” Sunstar glanced back at his warriors. Their pelts were smooth, their gaze curious. Bluefur was whispering to Whitestorm.

Crookedjaw tilted his head. “It would take more than this to overrun our camp,” he agreed. Unless there’s a second patrol hidden somewhere. He tasted the air but scented nothing.

Sunstar lifted his chin. “We only wish to share words.”

Crookedjaw nodded. His Clan was prepared. “Follow me.” He turned and headed toward the camp, uncomfortable with ThunderClan warriors at his tail, but forcing his hackles down. The rain pattered around them as they followed the path through the reeds. Crookedjaw entered the clearing first, leaving Ottersplash and Rippleclaw to escort the patrol behind him.

Timberfur and Owlfur were prowling beside the reed bed, their hackles raised. Cedarpelt stood guard by the elders’ den. Loudbelly, Sunfish, Sedgecreek, and Reedtail clustered protectively around the nursery. Softwing huddled between them with her kits.

Lionheart stared around the camp as though it were filled with walking fish. “Why do they live in such uncomfortable-looking dens?”

Crookedjaw growled. “They float if it floods.” Where’s Hailstar? He tasted the air. The RiverClan leader’s scent pooled in his den. Crookedjaw understood. Hailstar clearly didn’t want ThunderClan to think they were worried. “Wait here,” he told Sunstar. He padded to the willow and ducked into Hailstar’s den.

Hailstar was sitting in his nest, his eyes sharp in the gloom. “Well?”

“They’re here. Only a pawful of warriors. No sign of another patrol.”

“Good.” Hailstar nodded. “Come on.” He led the way into the clearing and stood beneath the willow looking at Sunstar, his gaze more curious than anxious. Sunstar watched him and, when Hailstar didn’t speak, dipped his head.

“Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan. We are taking them back.”

Sunningrocks belong to RiverClan! Crookedjaw fought to keep his pelt smooth, praying his Clanmates would stay calm. The camp was no place for a battle.

Hailstar unsheathed his claws. “You’ll have to fight for them.”

“We’ll fight if we have to,” Sunstar meowed. “But we thought we’d give you fair warning.”

Timberfur padded forward, pelt bristling. “Are you threatening us in our own camp?” he growled.

“We’re not threatening you,” Sunstar answered calmly.

Crookedjaw steadied his breathing. This was a contest of nerves, not claws.

“We’re giving you a choice,” Sunstar went on. “If you keep off Sunningrocks, we’ll leave you alone. But any cat who sets paw there will be shredded.”

Hailstar took a step forward. “Do you really think we’ll give up the rocks so easily?”

“If you prefer a battle, then we’ll fight,” Sunstar repeated. “But are the rocks worth it?” He tipped his head on one side. “You have the river to fish in. Your paws are too big to reach far into the cracks of Sunningrocks; your pelts are too clearly marked to stalk prey there. It is no use for RiverClan’s ways of hunting. Is it worth fighting for?”

Mudfur’s brown pelt flickered at the edge of Crookedjaw’s vision. It was what the medicine cat apprentice had argued all along, that Sunningrocks were not worth the number of RiverClan lives that had been lost. But would Hailstar agree this time?

The RiverClan leader opened his mouth to scent the air. “I smell fear,” he snarled.

“Then it comes from your own warriors,” Sunstar snapped.

“You actually expect us to give up Sunningrocks?” Hailstar hissed.

Sunstar shook his head. “I expect you to fight for them,” he meowed. “Even though you will waste warriors and blood. You will lose, and it will be thanks to your decision.”

Hailstar took a step toward the ThunderClan leader. “RiverClan warriors fight with claws, not words.”

“Very well.” Sunstar nodded. “Sunningrocks are ours. We will set the new markers tomorrow. After that, any RiverClan cat found there will face a fight that he will not win.” He gazed around the camp and raised his voice. “Let all of RiverClan know that the warning has been given. Any blood spilled now will be on Hailstar’s paws.” He turned and headed for the entrance.

Crookedjaw stared after them, stunned by their arrogance.

Timberfur shot forward. “How dare they?” He growled at the disappearing patrol.

“Make sure they leave the territory!” Hailstar nodded at Ottersplash and Timberfur. “Escort them to the border.”

The two warriors raced out of camp.

“When are we going to fight?” Sedgecreek appeared beside Crookedjaw, dancing from paw to paw.

Frogleap trotted up behind her. “It’ll be our first battle!”

Loudbelly and Sunfish crowded around, with Leopardfur and Skyheart trying to push past them.

“Stand still!” Crookedjaw tried to think. They needed a battle strategy. With so many eager young warriors, victory would be easy. He looked at Hailstar. “We should fight with two patrols,” he meowed, remembering his first battle at Sunningrocks. “If not three.”

“Wait.” The RiverClan leader slowly swished his tail. “This may not be a battle worth fighting.”

“What?” Sunfish stared at him.

“Of course it’s worth fighting!” Frogleap gasped.

“Quiet!” Crookedjaw flicked his tail. “Your leader’s speaking.”

“We’ll discuss this in my den, Crookedjaw.” Hailstar cast a thoughtful gaze over the young warriors, then he headed for his den.

“Why’s he hesitating?” Loudbelly growled.

Crookedjaw silenced him with a look. “He’s had eight lives of experience to guide him.” He followed Hailstar beneath the willow and ducked into his den.

“What good is Sunningrocks to us in leaf-bare?” Hailstar was sitting in the shadowy recess at the back of his den. “Sunstar was right; they can find prey there that we can’t reach.”

“Surely that’s all the more reason to keep them from it,” Crookedjaw reasoned.

Hailstar blinked at him. “Do you want to starve another Clan?”

“It would weaken them.”

“If we didn’t have to battle over Sunningrocks, would we care if they were weak or strong?”

“What if we gave them Sunningrocks and they tried to take more territory?”

“Do you really think that’s what Sunstar wants?” Hailstar’s gaze was steady.

Perhaps we should just give them leaf-bare hunting rights there. Crookedjaw remembered what Oakheart had said after the latest border challenge. That’s always when they take it. They must need the prey.

He shrugged. “I guess Sunstar just wants to be able to feed his Clan during leaf-bare.”

Hailstar nodded. “We have the river and the willows,” he pointed out. “They have only the forest.”

Crookedjaw hesitated. “They’ll think they’ve won.” The fur rippled along his spine. He didn’t want any Clan to think RiverClan was weak.

“They’ll think we prefer peace over war,” Hailstar murmured. “Some will see that as a sign of weakness, others will see it as a sign of strength.”

Crookedjaw thought of Rippleclaw and Ottersplash. And Sedgecreek and the other new warriors. How would they see it? He dug his claws into the soft earthen floor of the den. “ThunderClan will think they can change borders any time they like!”

Hailstar’s whiskers twitched. “Isn’t that what we’ve done?”

“That’s different! Sunningrocks is ours! It was given to us by StarClan.”

Hailstar tucked his tail over his paws. “I admire your loyalty,” he meowed. “StarClan chose well in making you deputy.”

Crookedjaw shifted his paws uncomfortably as Hailstar went on.

“You’ll make a great leader.”

The moss twitched at the entrance to the den. Timberfur poked his head through. “Have you decided on a battle plan yet? The Clan is restless.”

Hailstar nodded. As Timberfur ducked out, the RiverClan leader glanced at Crookedjaw. “I want you to tell them.”

“That we’re giving up Sunningrocks?”

Hailstar nodded. “The young warriors are an excitable bunch. You might as well learn how to handle them sooner rather than later.”

Crookedjaw steadied himself with a deep breath. “Okay.” He pushed his way out of the den and padded to the center of the clearing. Hailstar halted beside him.

The Clan grew quiet as Crookedjaw lifted his chin and gazed around the camp. “We won’t be fighting,” he announced. “We’ll let ThunderClan have Sunningrocks till newleaf.”

Mudfur was the first to speak. “Thank StarClan!”

“But we have to fight!” Timberfur growled.

Loudbelly paced around his denmates. “How can we not?”

“We’d beat them!” Owlfur snarled.

“They’ll think we’re weak!” Cedarpelt warned with a flick of his tail.

Reedtail flexed his claws. “We’ll go anyway,” he muttered.

“We can’t let them win,” Sunfish agreed.

“If you won’t defend our territory, we’ll do it for you!” Loudbelly yowled.

Crookedjaw bared his teeth at him. “No patrol will cross the river.” He glared at the bristling young warriors. “If any one of you sets paw on Sunningrocks, you needn’t worry about ThunderClan because I’ll shred you.” He gaze flicked back to Loudbelly. “Got it?”

Loudbelly flattened his ears. “Yes, Crookedjaw,” he muttered.

Crookedjaw snapped his head around to survey the rest of the Clan. Rippleclaw was watching him through narrowed eyes but didn’t speak. Owlfur stared at his paws. Timberfur sheathed his claws. Crookedjaw felt a surge of triumph but pushed it away. These were his Clanmates; he was leading them, not fighting them. “We don’t need Sunningrocks until newleaf,” he told them. “Let ThunderClan scavenge for mice in the cracks. We have the river and as much fish as we can eat.”

Cedarpelt stepped forward. “I can take out a hunting party now if you like,” he offered.

“Thank you.” Crookedjaw dipped his head to his old mentor. “Take Sunfish, Frogleap, and Loudbelly.” It would keep them busy. As the Clan drifted back to its duties, Crookedjaw scanned the camp for Oakheart. His brother still wasn’t back.

“Crookedjaw?” Ottersplash heaved herself out of the water beside the reed bed. Her eyes glittered as she hurried over and leaned close. “Can I speak with you?” She beckoned him toward the sedge wall and crouched beneath the arching fronds. Puzzled, Crookedjaw ducked beside her.

“Have you noticed at the Gatherings if Oakheart is friendly with any of the ThunderClan warriors?” Ottersplash whispered.

Crookedjaw shrugged. “No cat in particular.”

“Not even Bluefur?” Ottersplash glanced at him uneasily.

“He’s spoken to her one or two times.”

Ottersplash frowned.

“Why?” Crookedjaw stiffened.

“While we were escorting the ThunderClan patrol, I saw him…” She floundered.

Crookedjaw leaned forward. “Saw him what?”

“Saw him talking to Bluefur.”

“So?”

“They were alone,” Ottersplash reported. “She dropped back from the patrol and he came from the river. He’d been fishing. He couldn’t have known what they were doing here.”

“That’s probably why he stopped her.” Crookedjaw wondered why Ottersplash was making such a big deal out of it. “He just wanted to know what she was doing on RiverClan territory.”

“Yes.” Ottersplash nodded. “Of course.” She straightened up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have troubled you.”

Crookedjaw ran the tip of his tail over her flank. “No problem,” he meowed. His pelt rippled uneasily. I wonder if she believes what I just said. I’m not sure if I do.

The rain had cleared by the next day. Crookedjaw stretched, yawning in the chilly leaf-fall sunshine. The river slid past, deceptively quiet, as if it was just waiting for the first storm to stir up its surface and make fishing impossible. Beetlenose and Reedtail were hunting downstream. Crookedjaw had brought Oakheart to his favorite pool, hoping there’d be carp. He waited on the bank while Oakheart dived for his first catch.

His brother’s tawny head broke the surface, a fish between his jaws. He hopped onto the bank and dropped it beside Crookedjaw. “Your turn.”

“Are there many down there?”

“Loads.”

Crookedjaw waded into the shallows as Oakheart sniffed his carp. “Oakheart?” Whatever the truth is, I have to know. He kept his tone casual. “Did you see the ThunderClan patrol yesterday while you were out fishing?”

Oakheart flipped the carp over. “I saw Timberfur and Ottersplash escorting them over the stepping-stones.”

Why wouldn’t he mention talking to Bluefur? “And they went quietly?” Crookedjaw prompted.

Oakheart shrugged. “As far as I could tell.”

Was the fur on his spine twitching? Crookedjaw shifted his paws on the stones.

“What’s with all the questions?” Oakheart waded past him. “If you’re not going to catch anything, then I will.” He dived into the water and disappeared.

Crookedjaw narrowed his eyes. Was he worrying for no reason? Perhaps Oakheart didn’t think talking to Bluefur was important enough to mention. Any loyal warrior would have stopped to question an intruder. Besides, he wouldn’t keep secrets from me, would he? Crookedjaw padded to a flat gray rock and lay down to wait for Oakheart’s return. He wasn’t the only cat who was loyal to his Clanmates. There was no way his brother would betray RiverClan.