Crookedstar’s Promise

Chapter 2

“ThunderClan!” Stormkit raced for the fallen tree, scrambled onto the trunk, and scooted back along the icy branch that stretched over the river. “Those snake-hearts!” He could see the scrawny pelts of ThunderClan warriors swarming like rats over the huge gray rocks that had always been RiverClan’s despite ThunderClan’s grasping claims.

“How dare they?”

Stormkit heard his father’s growl and turned to see Shellheart leap up the trunk of the ancient willow and hurry along one of the low boughs that reached out over the water. The RiverClan deputy peered through the trailing branches. “I don’t believe it! Pinestar’s stretched out in the sunshine like it’s his territory!”

Stormkit saw a massive fox-red tom sprawling on the rocks, his soft belly fur glittering where it had brushed the frosty stone.

Rippleclaw paced the clearing, his black-and-silver fur spiked up. “They must think we’ve lost our teeth and claws!”

The sedge swished as Mudfur and Brightsky raced into camp. Piketooth followed, his tabby fur bristling, a fat carp skewered between his long front teeth. He dropped the fish and stared at Hailstar. “Who’s going to lead the battle patrol?”

Stormkit lashed his tail. Why couldn’t he be an apprentice already? Then he could join his Clanmates in driving the mangy ThunderClan cats off RiverClan territory.

“What’s going on?” Troutclaw padded stiffly out of the elders’ den. His gray tabby pelt was ruffled from sleep.

“There are ThunderClan warriors on Sunningrocks!” Stormkit called from his perch.

Hailstar swung his gaze around. “Get down from there, Stormkit,” he growled. “This isn’t a time for games.”

“I’m not playing!” Stormkit objected. But he backed along the branch and jumped down from the trunk.

Shellheart scrambled down from the willow and faced Hailstar. “Are we going to let those squirrel-chasers stay there?”

Rippleclaw growled. “They must know we can see them.”

“Which means they’ll be ready for us if we attack.” Troutclaw padded down the slope. “How could we win a battle that they’re more prepared for than we are?” He shook his matted head. “Haven’t we lost enough?”

Stormkit wondered if the old tom was thinking of Duskwater. He’d heard Rainflower telling Echomist that the she-cat’s body had never been found after the flood. “We’ll win this time!” he mewed.

“Hush, Stormkit!” Shellheart snapped his head around.

Timberfur crossed the clearing, his eyes dark. “We might lose.”

Cedarpelt joined Troutclaw and swept his tail sympathetically across the old cat’s shoulder. “Sunningrocks has always been hard to defend.”

Stormkit stiffened. “That’s no reason to let ThunderClan have it!” He stepped back as Shellheart brushed in front of him, muffling his mew.

“You’re too young for this debate,” the RiverClan deputy warned.

Rainflower scooped Stormkit aside with her tail. “Hush, little one. You have a warrior’s heart as brave as any cat’s. You’ll get your turn.”

You bet I will! Stormkit shut his mouth and curled his claws. One day I’ll be leader and then I’ll decide when we go into battle.

“Ow!”

He felt a tail beneath his paws and turned to find Oakkit glaring at him.

“That’s my tail you’re digging your claws into!”

“Sorry!” Stormkit guiltily hopped off his brother’s tail. “We have to punish those squirrel-chasers for stealing our territory, right?”

Oakkit didn’t answer. He was watching Brambleberry. The white medicine cat had slid out from her den among the sedges.

“Do you think we should fight, Brambleberry?” Hailstar asked.

Brambleberry shook her head. “Not now. I have no way to treat battle wounds. The flood took my herbs and my store will stay empty till newleaf brings fresh crops. I can only use the most basic remedies.”

“And we’re half-starved,” Troutclaw added.

Stormkit blinked. He hadn’t been hungry. Rainflower always had enough milk for him and Oakkit. He studied his Clanmates and noticed for the first time how thin they were looking. Nearly as scrawny as ThunderClan cats.

Hailstar sighed. “I don’t want to start a battle we are likely to lose. And I don’t want warriors with injuries that can’t be healed.”

Rippleclaw lashed his tail. “Then we’re just going to let them take as much territory as they want?”

“They only want Sunningrocks,” Echomist pointed out. “They’d never try to cross the river.”

Piketooth growled, “There’s prey at Sunningrocks. Forest prey that could make up for the lack of fish.” He kicked the carp lying at his paws. “It took all morning to catch this.”

Echomist dipped her head. “But it’s almost newleaf. It won’t be long before we have more prey than we need. And right now I’d rather go hungry than lose another Clanmate.” She glanced at Troutclaw.

Piketooth dug his claws into the earth. “Are we going to give up Sunningrocks without a murmur?”

“No.” Hailstar crossed the clearing and leaped onto the low branch of the willow. He glanced toward Sunningrocks. “Rippleclaw, Shellheart.” His tail swept the bark. “Take Ottersplash and Brightsky to Sunningrocks. Don’t fight. Tell Pinestar and his Clanmates that they may have Sunningrocks today. But warn them: Those rocks are RiverClan’s and we will defend them soon.”

“Don’t worry. Those snake-hearts will get the message!” Shellheart’s claws sprayed soft earth as he charged for the entrance tunnel with Rippleclaw, Brightsky, and Ottersplash pounding after.

“Quick!” As his Clanmates bunched into anxious, murmuring groups, Stormkit hissed in his brother’s ear and dashed back to the fallen tree. He scampered along the trunk, checking over his shoulder.

Oakkit was following. “Where are we going?”

“To watch.”

“Watch what?”

“We’re going to watch Shellheart tell Pinestar off!” Stormkit scampered along the branch. “Dig your claws in,” he warned his brother. “It’s slippery.”

When the branch grew thin enough to dip under his weight, Stormkit halted and ducked down to let Oakkit watch over his shoulder. Only four ThunderClan warriors remained on Sunningrocks. Pinestar was still lying on the smooth, flat rock, showing his belly to the leaf-bare sun. A bright ginger tom sat beside him, eyes closed, tail wrapped over his paws.

“That must be Sunfall, the deputy,” Oakkit whispered. “Volekit said he was ginger.”

Two lithe warriors paced back and forth beside the leader and deputy: a blue-gray tom and a mottled tabby. Their eyes were wide and their ears pricked. Suddenly the tabby halted and stared at the river.

Stormkit followed his gaze. Shellheart was swimming toward Sunningrocks. Water splashed as Rippleclaw, Brightsky, and Ottersplash plunged in after him. On Sunningrocks, the gray tom’s pelt had bristled along his spine. He darted to the edge of the rocks and showed his teeth, his gaze fixed on the RiverClan patrol.

Pinestar jumped to his paws, quickly followed by Sunfall. The four ThunderClan warriors lined up on the crest of the rock as Shellheart launched himself, dripping, from the water. In two bounds, the RiverClan deputy scaled the smooth cliff face. Sunfall arched his back and hissed as Shellheart approached. Pinestar narrowed his eyes.

Stormkit felt Oakkit tense behind him. “Will they fight?” Oakkit breathed.

“Wait.” Stormkit’s paws trembled with excitement as Rippleclaw leaped up onto Sunningrocks with Brightsky and Ottersplash following.

Stormkit pricked his ears, straining to hear.

“You’re on RiverClan territory,” Shellheart growled.

Sunfall took a step forward. “Make us leave, then.”

Shellheart flicked his tail. “This is not yet a battle worth fighting,” he meowed. He looked back toward the RiverClan camp, clearly visible through the leafless trees. “But we’ll be watching. You should watch out, too, because this is our land and we will defend it.”

The gray tom’s lip curled. “But not today?”

Rippleclaw darted forward, flattening his ears. “If it comes to a battle,” he hissed in the gray tom’s face, “it’ll be me who shreds you first.”

“Rippleclaw!” Shellheart called the warrior back and met Pinestar’s narrowed gaze. “You can have Sunningrocks for now. Help yourself to any fresh-kill you find here. RiverClan doesn’t need mice. But we’ll take it back when we want it back.”

Stormkit could feel his brother’s heart pounding. “Mangy mouse-eaters,” he muttered. “Enjoy Sunningrocks while you can.”

Shellheart jumped down to the riverbank and waited while Rippleclaw, Ottersplash, and Brightsky dived past him into the water. He glanced back up at the rock face once more before following his Clanmates.

“Watch out!” Oakkit’s yelp made Stormkit jump. “The magpie’s coming back!”

Stormkit looked up and saw a flash of black-and-white feathers outlined against the gray sky. “Hold on to me!” he ordered.

As Oakkit sank his claws into his pelt, Stormkit reared up on his hind legs. He lashed out at the magpie with his forepaws just as it swooped level with the branch. Held firm by Oakkit, Stormkit slashed again and again until he felt his claws slice through feather and reach flesh.

Squawking, the magpie wheeled away, and Stormkit dropped to four paws.

Oakkit let go and blinked at him. “Nice move!”

“Thanks for hanging on to me.” Stormkit looked at the bloody feathers caught in his claws. “I don’t think that magpie will be back for a while.” He blinked triumphantly at his brother. “We’re going to be the best warriors RiverClan’s ever seen.”