Crookedstar's Promise Read online

  “We had no choice,” Shellheart meowed.

  Timberfur shifted, wincing, on to his other side. “But Hailstar told us ThunderClan was weak.”

  “We were winning!” Lakeshine paused from smoothing her long gray-and-white fur. It was smeared with blood and fragments of herb.

  Whitefang sighed. “If only Stormtail hadn’t turned up with a second patrol—”

  Rippleclaw cut him off. “Why didn’t Hailstar think of that?”

  “He’s not a mind reader,” Shellheart snapped.

  Timberfur growled. “But he’s a leader. Leaders should know how to win battles.” He glared toward the medicine den.

  Hailstar’s wounds had been deep. When Brambleberry couldn’t stop the bleeding in the clearing, Shellheart and Owlfur had carried the half-conscious leader to her den.

  “Shut up!” Petaldust’s eyes flared. A long scratch traced from her forehead to her muzzle, and her tortoiseshell pelt was clumped with blood. “Hailstar could be losing a life!”

  Crookedpaw got to his paws. His wounds burned like fire.

  Oakheart looked up. “Where are you going?”

  “I want to take fresh-kill to Brambleberry.” He glanced at his paws. Truthfully, he was more interested in finding out how Hailstar was so he could reassure Petaldust and Voleclaw. They were clearly worried about their father. Even Beetlenose wasn’t boasting for a change. “She’s been busy all night. She must be hungry.”

  “But the fresh-kill pile’s empty,” Oakheart pointed out.

  “I know where there are some minnows.” He padded carefully through the reed bed. The ice creaked beneath his paws. It would be gone in a day or so. He quickly caught a few minnows in his jaws. Back on shore, he crossed the clearing.

  Rainflower was licking her wounds. She looked up as he passed. “Well done, Crookedpaw,” she meowed, and returned to her washing.

  Crookedpaw’s fur prickled with surprise. Rainflower had praised him! His heart lifted. Ducking through the sedge tunnel into Brambleberry’s den, he dropped the fish at the medicine cat’s paws. “How is he?”

  Hailstar lay curled in a nest beside the wall of the den. Echomist sat beside him, lapping his pelt. The RiverClan leader’s fur was dull and matted, his flanks hardly moving.

  “He’s stopped bleeding,” Brambleberry murmured. “But he lost a lot of blood.”

  Echomist stiffened. “He’s not breathing!”

  Brambleberry darted to the nest and pressed her ear to Hailstar’s flank. She sat up slowly. Crookedpaw shivered as silence gripped the den. Brambleberry broke it with a sigh as Hailstar took a sudden shuddering gasp. “He lost a life,” she mewed softly.

  Echomist’s eyes glistened. “Then he’s on his ninth,” she breathed.

  Brambleberry touched the she-cat’s cheek with her muzzle. “I’m afraid so.” She glanced at Crookedpaw. “You’d better go.”

  Crookedpaw nodded and headed for the entrance.

  “Thanks for the fish,” Brambleberry called after him.

  Crookedpaw squeezed into the clearing. Rainflower was padding stiffly to her den. Oakheart rested his nose on his paws, his eyes closed. Tanglewhisker was carrying a lump of snow in his jaws. He dropped it beside Shimmerpelt, who began lapping at it thirstily. None of them knew that their leader had lost a life in the failed battle for Sunningrocks, just as Petaldust feared. It wasn’t Crookedpaw’s place to tell them; Brambleberry would do that, or Hailstar himself, once he had recovered.

  If only I’d fought better! Mapleshade will never believe I’m worthy of being Clan leader now. Crookedpaw felt a rush of frustration. Next time I’ll fight like a StarClan warrior. Next time, I won’t let my Clan down!

  Chapter 15

  “Stop!” Mapleshade yowled.

  “But I haven’t done it perfectly yet!” Crookedpaw lunged forward again, his belly brushing the ground. He twisted, thrusting out his hind paws with a grunt of effort. In the days since the battle he’d practiced harder than ever.

  Mapleshade ignored him. “Stop!”

  “I have to get this right.” Crookedpaw scrambled to his paws. “I’m never going to be beaten again!”

  “You must wake up, Crookedpaw!” Mapleshade hissed. “Something’s happening.”

  Crookedpaw stared at her in alarm. “Is the Clan in trouble?”

  “Wake up!”

  Crookedpaw blinked open his eyes. He scrambled to his paws, heart racing. The apprentices’ den was dark. He could hardly see the walls. Paws pricking, he slipped into the clearing and looked up at the sky. The moon was no more than a claw scratch. Dawn was lighting the distant moorland. The thaw, which had followed the defeat at Sunningrocks, had left the camp muddy. The reeds drooped, feigning death. The snow had melted, revealing moss once more. It squelched underpaw as Crookedpaw padded toward the reed bed. He peered through the stiff stems, tasting the air. Hailstar’s scent hung there, Timberfur’s, too. Crookedpaw followed their trail, picking out the fresh scent of Ottersplash, Owlfur, and Rippleclaw as he neared a gap in the sedge. They’d left camp recently.

  Crookedpaw ducked, ready to follow. Just then, a screech tore the air. Bristling, Crookedpaw spun around. It had come from the other side of the river. A yowl followed it.

  Ottersplash!

  Crookedpaw darted across the clearing and leaped onto the fallen tree. Weaving past the dens, he headed along the jutting branch until he was above the reeds. His gaze followed the sliding river far upstream to the distant bank. Ottersplash and Owlfur were pelting down the slope from WindClan territory. They skimmed the low bushes with long strides. Rippleclaw and Timberfur followed. Dark bundles swung from their jaws. Crookedpaw’s heart skipped a beat as he heard mewling.

  The kits! They had the kits!

  Hailstar pounded after them, a WindClan warrior spitting at his heels. Reedfeather! Crookedpaw recognized the bristling pelt. Four snarling Clanmates sped alongside him. Timberfur and Rippleclaw were nearing the river. Crookedpaw gripped the bark under his claws, as the camp stirred behind him.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Who’s yowling?”

  Dens rustled and paws hurried over wet moss. Oakheart scuttled along the branch and crouched behind him. “What is it?”

  “Just watch!” Crookedpaw kept his gaze fixed on the fleeing patrol.

  “Get into the river!” Hailstar’s yowl rang loud in the dawn air. Timberfur and Rippleclaw sprang off the shore and plunged into the shallows.

  Willowkit squealed. “It’s cold!”

  “Help!” Graykit was shrieking.

  Hailstar slowed and turned to face Reedfeather. The WindClan warrior stopped a whisker from Hailstar’s nose. His Clanmates charged past him to the river’s edge. “You can’t steal my kits!”

  Hailstar glanced over his shoulder, toward Rippleclaw and Timberfur who stood belly deep in the water. His eyes lit with triumph. “We already have!”

  Spitting, Reedfeather struck the RiverClan leader with a blow so fierce it sent him crashing against a rock. Crookedpaw’s breath stopped. Hailstar lay still. Get up! Get up! Had the RiverClan leader given his final life to save the kits?

  Reedfeather charged for the shore, following his Clanmates. He paused at the river’s edge as the others waded in, snarling. Ottersplash and Owlfur turned in the shallows and met their pursuers with a flurry of vicious swipes. Knocking one WindClan warrior back, Owlfur spun around and sent another floundering out of his depth with a mighty blow. Ottersplash dived under the belly of a dark tabby tom and sent him lurching off balance with a heave of her shoulders. As their Clanmates held off WindClan, Rippleclaw and Timberfur plunged toward RiverClan, necks stretched as they held the kits above water.

  Reedfeather stared wildly as the RiverClan warriors staggered from the river and dropped the kits on the marshy bank. His Clanmates struggled back to shore on the WindClan side and hauled themselves out. Reedfeather turned to them in dismay. “We can’t give up! Those are my kits!” Without waiting for an answer, he whirled
around and leaped into the river. “Give them back!” he screeched.

  Behind him, Hailstar moved. He struggled to his paws and pelted after Reedfeather. With a grunt of effort, he jumped onto the WindClan deputy’s back, sending him flailing forward into the river.

  As Reedfeather surfaced, spluttering, Hailstar lunged forward with his front paws outstretched and thrust the WindClan warrior beneath the water. His eyes glowed, reflecting the rising sun, as he held Reedfeather down. The other WindClan warriors backed away up the slope, their eyes as round as owls’.

  Bubbles rose around Hailstar’s paws. Reedfeather was fighting for his life.

  Let him go! Crookedpaw leaned forward, trembling. Don’t kill him! The kits are safe!

  “Hailstar? Hailstar! Stop!” Owlfur splashed to his leader’s side. “You’re killing him.”

  Hailstar gazed at his Clanmates, dazed. He released his grip and staggered backward. Owlfur tugged at Reedfeather’s pelt. “Help me get him out!” he spluttered.

  Hailstar darted forward and grabbed Reedfeather’s scruff. Together they dragged him to the shore on WindClan’s side. Weak with relief, Crookedpaw hurried toward the kits.

  Rippleclaw pressed against Willowkit while Timberfur lapped at Graykit’s dripping fur. The kits’ gaze was fixed on the far shore where Hailstar and Owlfur leaned over their father’s limp body.

  “Is he dead?” Willowkit wailed.

  Owlfur began to rub Reedfeather’s chest.

  “Should I get Brambleberry?” Crookedpaw offered.

  Rippleclaw looked up, his eyes dark. “It’d be too late.”

  Suddenly Reedfeather coughed, twisting and vomiting river water.

  “He’s alive!” Willowkit’s eyes shone. Then she turned and stared at Crookedpaw. “Is he going to take us home now?”

  “This is your home!” Fallowtail exploded out of the reeds. She skidded to a stop and stared, huge-eyed, at her kits. “You’ve grown,” she breathed. “You’ve grown so big.” Her mew cracked.

  “Fallowtail!” Graykit ducked away from Timberfur and raced to her mother, rubbing her muzzle along Fallowtail’s jaw and purring loud enough to wake the birds. Willowkit rushed to join her, tucking herself under Fallowtail’s belly. On the far shore, the WindClan warriors were helping Reedfeather up the slope. His drenched fur clung to his bony shape, and he was limping badly.

  Owlfur slid into the water and swam toward home. Hailstar followed. Crookedpaw shivered. Just for a moment, Hailstar had wanted to kill Reedfeather. Not for his own sake—Reedfeather had done nothing to him personally—but for the sake of his Clan, because Hailstar truly believed the kits belonged to RiverClan. Will I ever fight like that?

  A voice breathed in Crookedpaw’s ear.

  Mapleshade!

  Her mew was fierce. One day it will be your turn to show your Clan you are worthy of being their leader, Crookedpaw. I have faith in you, young warrior.

  Chapter 16

  “Willowpaw! Graypaw!”

  The cheers of the Clan rang in the golden morning air as they welcomed their newest apprentices. Fallowtail called loudest of all, her blue eyes misting. Crookedpaw purred. At last he’d have denmates!

  Willowpaw stood in the center of the clearing; her amber eyes shone and her pale tabby coat reflected the rising sun. Her mentor, Owlfur, touched his white-splashed muzzle to Willowpaw’s head while Brightsky padded proudly around her first apprentice, Graypaw.

  Hailstar stepped back, chin high. “WindClan’s loss is our gain!”

  In the two moons since the RiverClan leader had led the patrol to rescue RiverClan’s youngest members, newleaf had furred the stark branches of the willows with soft green buds. The reeds had lifted their snow-crushed fronds and were thick with new growth. And the river was beginning to lose its biting chill.

  “What are we going to do first?” As the Clan began to return to its duties, Willowpaw stared excitedly at Owlfur.

  Owlfur glanced conspiratorially at Cedarpelt.

  “What?” Crookedpaw knew when his mentor was keeping a secret. Cedarpelt’s pelt was pricking. Purring, the brown warrior padded toward Owlfur.

  Crookedpaw scampered after him. “Is something going on?”

  “We’re going to the Moonstone to share with StarClan,” Cedarpelt told him. “I wanted to take you there before, but I thought you’d prefer to share the experience with denmates.”

  I have denmates! Crookedpaw circled his mentor excitedly. And we’re going to the Moonstone!

  Graypaw pricked her ears. “We’re going, too?”

  Cedarpelt nodded. “Yes.”

  “Really?” Willowpaw’s gaze glittered anxiously. “It’ll mean traveling through WindClan territory,” she mewed. “What if they steal us back?”

  Crookedpaw cocked his head, surprised. “Would you let them?”

  “Of course not!” Willowpaw lashed her tail.

  Graypaw fluffed out her fur. “WindClan follows the warrior code, okay?” she reminded her sister. “They’d never stop us from traveling to the Moonstone.” She and Willowpaw exchanged a glance and Crookedpaw wondered what memories they were sharing. They’d seemed happy to return to their mother’s Clan, but they never criticized WindClan, who had cared for and nurtured them for a whole moon.

  “It must have been disgusting,” Beetlenose had goaded them, more than once. “Eating rabbit.”

  Even Voleclaw had joined in. “Weren’t you cold?” he wondered. “How could a heather den keep out the wind? Especially up on the moorland. It never stops up there.”

  But Graypaw and Willowpaw had just shrugged. “They treated us well, but we’re glad to be home,” was all they’d ever say.

  Crookedpaw respected their careful silence.

  “Ignore him,” he told them. “Beetlenose likes to get under other cats’ pelts.”

  He’d settled down beside Willowkit one evening, while the Clan was sharing tongues. Beetlenose had been calling her rabbit-breath all afternoon and her pelt was still spiked. “When I was on the farm, I hunted mice,” he told her quietly. “I got so used to the taste it was hard eating fish again.” He wanted her to know that he understood what it felt like to come back, to have her loyalty questioned. “Even Oakheart teased me about being more like a ThunderClan cat than a RiverClan cat.”

  She blinked at him. “Really?”

  “Really.” He purred and touched his muzzle to her ear. “Don’t worry. They’ll get over it.”

  But that was last moon. Now, he was just glad they were ’paws—not only because he’d have denmates but because they’d have a chance to show their loyalty to their true Clan.

  “When are we leaving?” He paced around Cedarpelt.

  “Go to Brambleberry,” Cedarpelt ordered. “She has traveling herbs ready for you.”

  Graypaw screwed up her nose.

  “You’ll be thankful for them by sunhigh,” Owlfur told her. “We have a long way to go.”

  Crookedpaw raced for Brambleberry’s den, but Willowpaw darted ahead of him and slipped through the entrance first. Three piles of herbs were laid out on the den floor.

  Brambleberry was pulling stale supplies from a gap in the reeds. “I’m glad newleaf’s here,” she muttered. “There’s hardly any goodness left in this coltsfoot, and we’ll be needing poppy seeds before long.”

  Crookedpaw sniffed at one of the herb piles she’d prepared. It smelled sour. “Do we have to chew them or can we just swallow them whole?”

  Brambleberry dropped a pawful of shrivelled mallow on the floor. “Swallow them whole,” she advised. “It’ll slow down their effect till you really need it.”

  Closing his eyes, Crookedpaw gulped down the herbs. He shuddered. Even without chewing they left a bitter taste on his tongue.

  “Yuck!” Graypaw made a face as she swallowed hers.

  Willowpaw winced but didn’t complain. “How far is it to the Moonstone?” she asked Brambleberry when she’d licked her lips.

  “You’ll be there by nightfall i
f you keep up a good pace.” Brambleberry shrugged. “The journey’s nothing once you get used to it.” She traveled it every half-moon with the other medicine cats to share tongues with StarClan. “The worst bit is Mothermouth.” Her pelt rippled. “It’s very dark, and you need to trust StarClan to guide your paws.” She blinked at the three apprentices. “Stay close to your mentors.”

  Willowpaw wrapped her tail tight around her forepaws. “What’s the Moonstone like?”

  “Are StarClan cats friendly?” Graypaw added. “Even the warriors from other Clans?”

  “The Moonstone is beautiful.” Brambleberry sighed. “And StarClan is wise.” Her gaze fixed on Crookedpaw. “Listen carefully to what they tell you,” she warned. “Let them guide your paws onto the right path.”

  Crookedpaw swallowed. Why had she singled him out? Did she think his paws were on the wrong path?

  “Hurry up.” Brambleberry began to herd them toward the entrance. “You need to get there by moonhigh.”

  “Why?” Graypaw mewed as Brambleberry nosed her from the den.

  Brambleberry turned back to her supplies. “You’ll see.”

  Cedarpelt, Brightsky, and Owlfur were waiting by the entrance. Crookedpaw hurried to join them. “Don’t you need herbs?”

  “We had some earlier,” Brightsky explained.

  Owlfur nodded to Willowpaw. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” Her voice suddenly sounded very small. Was she overwhelmed, traveling all the way to the Moonstone on her first day as an apprentice?

  Crookedpaw felt a surge of excitement. He’d traveled part of this journey before, but now he wasn’t alone. He was with his Clanmates. And if he had a chance to dream at the Moonstone, he’d probably meet the whole of StarClan and not just Mapleshade.

  The cats kept to the edge of WindClan territory, wary of patrols.

  “I know WindClan has honorable warriors,” Cedarpelt told Graypaw. “But there’s no need to stir up memories by marching you right past their camp.”