Bluestar's Prophecy

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Bluestar's Prophecy Page 15

by Erin Hunter


  Sunfall padded to join them. “You learn quickly, Lionpaw.” He turned to Goldenpaw. “I think you’re just too worried about getting it right.”

  Goldenpaw’s eyes grew round. “But I want to be the best fighter I can be!”

  “Try relying more on your instinct.”

  Goldenpaw frowned. “You mean I shouldn’t do the moves I’ve been taught.”

  “Not exactly.” Sunfall tried to explain. “I think you might be a better fighter if you use what you feel alongside what you’ve learned.”

  Bluepaw understood what he was trying to tell the apprentice. Rules were sometimes too restrictive. She thought of the adjustments she had made to the moves Sunfall had taught her, to accommodate her short legs. “Why doesn’t Goldenpaw try attacking me,” she suggested, “as though I were an enemy warrior?”

  “Good idea,” Sunfall meowed approvingly. “Do you think you could try that?” he asked Goldenpaw.

  Hesitantly she nodded.

  Bluepaw padded a tail-length away and turned, scowling her fiercest scowl. “Imagine I’m a ShadowClan warrior threatening the nursery,” she growled.

  Goldenpaw dropped into a crouch. Her eyes darkened and she drew her lips back in a snarl. Bluepaw was impressed. The young apprentice actually looked dangerous.

  Goldenpaw rushed at her without hesitation. She was so quick that Bluepaw hardly had time to dart out of the way or plan her defensive moves. Before she figured out where Goldenpaw was going to attack, the apprentice was gripping her back, scrabbling at her spine with vicious hind paws. Instinctively Bluepaw pressed hard against the ground, then surged up and threw Goldenpaw off. She turned and lunged at the ginger tabby, rolling her onto her flank with a well-aimed paw and raking her claws past her ear.

  Goldenpaw shrieked in surprise and scrambled away. Bluepaw froze. She smelled blood and saw with horror the nick she had made in Goldenpaw’s ear.

  “I’m so sorry!” She hadn’t meant to hurt the young apprentice.

  But Goldenpaw’s eyes were shining. “That was great!” she mewed. “Can we try it again?”

  Back in camp, the leaf-gathering patrol had returned with a pile of leaves as big as a hedgehog. Sparrowpelt was organizing the weaving of the fat waxy leaves into the roof of the elders’ den. Bluepaw could see Snowpaw’s white pelt as she balanced high on the fallen tree while Rosepaw reached up to pass her another leaf.

  “Goldenpaw!” Speckletail’s horrified mew sounded across the clearing. “Your beautiful ears!” She raced to her kit’s side and started lapping at Goldenpaw’s ear. The nick was now caked with dry blood, and Goldenpaw ducked away.

  “It’s okay!” she protested.

  “Who did this to you?” Speckletail stared accusingly at Swiftbreeze, then at Sunfall.

  Bluepaw stared at the ground. “It was me,” she mewed quietly.

  “How could you?” Speckletail demanded. “I thought you were training, not fighting.”

  Sunfall padded to Bluepaw’s side. “We were training for battle,” he meowed. “Sometimes accidents happen.”

  “But she’ll be scarred for life!” Speckletail wailed.

  “Good,” Goldenpaw mewed. “My first battle scar and I haven’t even been in a battle yet!”

  Speckletail closed her eyes and lifted her face to StarClan.

  Another voice rumbled, “She did well not to come back with more scars if she was fighting Bluepaw.”

  Bluepaw whirled and was surprised to see Stormtail watching from beside the nettle patch, his eyes gleaming.

  “She’s a natural fighter,” he went on. “Moonflower would have been proud of her.”

  Bluepaw stared at her father, amazed. Was he proud of her? Had he been keeping an eye on her training after all? She longed for him to say more, but he turned his head and began washing his flank.

  The rattle of stones on the ravine made her jump. Paws hit the ground and pounded toward the clearing.

  Something was wrong.

  “Invasion!” Adderfang exploded into the camp, his pelt bristling.

  Thrushpelt raced in after him. “RiverClan has crossed the ice!” he yowled.

  Thistlepaw’s eyes were sparkling with excitement as he shot into the camp. “They’re trying to take Sunningrocks!”

  Pinestar was out of his den in an instant. “Did you see them?” he demanded.

  “They’re swarming over the rocks!” Adderfang hissed.

  “Stormtail!” Pinestar called the gray warrior to him. “You head one patrol. Attack from the far side.”

  “But that will mean going all the way around,” Stormtail argued. “The battle may be lost before we arrive.”

  “No, it won’t.” Pinestar curled his lip. “We’ll hold them till you reach us. A second wave will finish them.”

  Stormtail nodded.

  “Take Dappletail, Smallear, Sweetpaw, White-eye, and Tawnyspots.”

  Each cat stepped forward, pelt bristling, as Pinestar called out names.

  “Go!”

  On Pinestar’s word, Stormtail pelted from the camp with the patrol pounding after him.

  “Adderfang, Thistlepaw, Sparrowpelt, Snowpaw, Thrushpelt, Robinwing, Leopardfoot, Sunfall, and Bluepaw!”

  Bluepaw darted forward. She could feel her legs trembling.

  “You come with me.” Pinestar’s green eyes shone like emeralds. “Patchpelt, Poppydawn, Rosepaw, and Goldenpaw. Wait at the top of the ravine in case RiverClan tries to attack the camp.” He gazed around his Clan. “The rest of you, defend the medicine den. This might be a revenge attack provoked by WindClan.”

  Panic flashed through Bluepaw. What if the Clans had joined together to make ThunderClan suffer as WindClan had? She pushed the thought away. It was too frightening. ThunderClan could not take on more than one Clan at a time.

  Pinestar was already pelting toward the gorse barrier. Bluepaw unsheathed her claws to better grip the snow. Sunfall was a whisker ahead of her, and she followed in his paw steps, running faster than she had ever run before. She had seen the WindClan battle, seen how vicious warriors could be in the heat of the action. Panic threatened to swamp her as she scrabbled up the ravine with her Clanmates pushing behind her, sending stones and snow flying as they raced for the top.

  Her lungs ached for air by the time they’d raced through the forest and burst from the trees. Sunningrocks rose into the pale evening sky, the great slabs of stone turned red by the fiery sun sinking behind them. Screwing up her eyes to block the glare, Bluepaw could just make out the crest of the rock. Lined up on its summit was a row of RiverClan cats, silhouetted against the sun, heads held high and tails lashing. She searched the line for Crookedpaw, but recognized only the tawny pelt of Oakheart.

  Hailstar stepped from the ranks of RiverClan, his pelt like fire in the dying sun. “An ancient wrong has been put right!” he yowled. “These rocks are ours again!”

  “Never!” Pinestar hissed. “ThunderClan, attack!”

  CHAPTER 13

  ThunderClan surged forward.

  Sunfall hissed to Bluepaw. “Keep close to me! And don’t take on any cat bigger than you!”

  Bluepaw stared up at the RiverClan cats bristling atop the rock. They were all bigger than her! Blood pulsed in her ears as Sunfall charged up Sunningrocks, shrieking like a fox. She hurtled after him, ears flat and eyes round; a screech tore from her throat that was driven more by terror than by rage. Had RiverClan brought its whole camp?

  Let Stormtail come soon!

  Hailstar howled as Pinestar crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. Sunfall sent a white tom rolling across the slab of stone with a vicious swipe, then leaped on top of him, sending fur flying as he shredded the tom with his flailing forepaws. A RiverClan she-cat with a mottled pelt raced alongside Bluepaw. Thinking fast, Bluepaw ducked and nipped the she-cat on the hind leg as she flew past.

  The RiverClan warrior shrieked and wheeled around. Shock pulsed through Bluepaw as the warrior’s eyes fixed on her. They were blazing, lit by t
he sun and by fury. She was going to attack! Bluepaw crouched and braced herself. As the mottled warrior leaped, Bluepaw darted forward, slipping under the warrior’s front claws and shouldering her way beneath her belly. The she-cat’s claws scraped stone instead of pelt as Bluepaw pushed up with all her might, unbalancing her enemy. She spun to see the she-cat tumble sideways and felt a surge of triumph.

  Yowling with rage, the warrior scrambled back to her paws and turned to attack. Bluepaw prepared to lunge, aiming again for the belly, but the RiverClan cat was ready. She came in low, knocking Bluepaw’s front paws from under her and sending her spinning and rolling along the rock. Grasping at the stone, Bluepaw’s claws frayed without getting a grip, and she found herself tumbling and sliding over the side and plummeting into the snow piled below.

  Struggling free from the drift, Bluepaw sneezed the freezing snow from her mouth and nose. She paused to catch her breath, then began to creep along the base of the rock with her mouth open and her ears pricked, testing the air for any sign of RiverClan warriors. The frozen river bubbled a tail-length away, swirling into blackness under the cloudy white ice. Steep rocks trapped her on the narrow riverbank. She could recognize the howls and shrieks of her Clanmates battling above.

  From the stench coating the snow she guessed RiverClan had swarmed from there up the rock. Following the RiverClan scent, Bluepaw sought a way up the cliff. As she searched for cracks and fissures, trying to work out where she might get a hold, snow crunched behind her. Alarmed, she spun around, her hackles lifting.

  Crookedpaw.

  Relief flooded her.

  “Thank StarClan!” she mewed.

  But his eyes were dark with fury.

  Didn’t he remember her?

  “We’re enemies now,” he hissed.

  Bluepaw froze. He was going to attack!

  He sprang at her, knocking her into the snow. She gasped as his forepaws punched the breath from her body. Terrified, she struggled as he raked her back with unsheathed claws. As pain shot through her, she twisted her head and bit his forepaw with such fury she felt his fur split and her teeth scrape on bone.

  Crookedpaw yowled and kicked her away.

  Screeching in shock, Bluepaw tumbled toward the river. Terror shot through her. She couldn’t fall through the ice! She plunged her paws through the snow and dug her claws into the solid ground underneath, halting her fall as her hind paws slid flailing onto the ice. She hauled herself forward and shot up the bank, slamming into Crookedpaw.

  With a yelp of surprise, he staggered, unbalanced.

  Bluepaw spun around and nipped his hind leg, spun again and nipped his fore, then reared and lunged, sinking her teeth deep into his scruff. Digging her hind claws into the ground, she tried to drag him backward. He was too heavy! He thrashed from side to side, jerking her head back and forth until she let go. Then he turned on her, his eyes flashing.

  “Don’t expect mercy from me!” he spat.

  Panicked, Bluepaw reared up and began swiping desperately with her forepaws. But Crookedpaw kept coming, hitting back, his blows stronger and fiercer than hers. She managed to flick a claw across his muzzle, but he clouted her ear and she felt the wetness of blood as pain seared like fire. How could she beat him? Suddenly a yowl sounded behind her.

  Snowpaw!

  Bluepaw glanced over her shoulder and saw her sister’s pelt flash in the shadows, felt her rear up beside her and fight, matching her blows paw for paw until Crookedpaw began to slow and then back away.

  “Keep aiming at his muzzle,” Snowpaw hissed in her ear.

  Aching with the effort, Bluepaw kept flailing while Snowpaw ducked and nipped Crookedpaw’s hind legs. Cursing, he dropped back onto all fours and tried to rush the two of them. But Snowpaw twisted under him and raked his belly, slowing him long enough for Bluepaw to leap on his back. Bluepaw guessed what Snowpaw would do next and dug her claws in tight, ready for Crookedpaw to fall. Sure enough, Snowpaw rolled over and pushed out with her paws, knocking Crookedpaw’s legs from under him and sending him tumbling down the bank. Clinging on like a burr, Bluepaw rolled with him. She pummeled with her hind paws, stripping the fur from his back. Yowling in agony, Crookedpaw struggled out of her grasp and raced away across the ice.

  As Bluepaw climbed the bank, panting, Snowpaw greeted her with a triumphant purr. Blood stained her white pelt. “We showed him!”

  Bluepaw wiped a paw across her own bloodied ear, then glanced up the rock. How were her Clanmates doing?

  “Attack!” Stormtail’s yowl rang over the stone.

  The second patrol had come! Claws scraped rock and frightened yowls rent the air. Bluepaw gasped as Snowpaw shoved her against the rock while pelts flashed down in front of them. RiverClan was streaming from the rock and racing away across the frozen river. Bluepaw held her breath and trembled against the rock as the last RiverClan warriors paused on the ice at the edge of the river. Smashing down with their hind legs, they cracked the ice.

  They wanted to stop ThunderClan from following!

  As the ice shattered under them, they leaped light as feathers onto the solid ice beyond and hurtled back to their territory, leaving a channel of black water swirling between themselves and ThunderClan.

  Snowpaw was already climbing the rock. “Come on!” She disappeared over the top.

  Hooking her claws into any fissure she could reach, Bluepaw scrambled after her. Every muscle screamed as she dragged herself up over the edge, but relief flooded through her when she saw her Clanmates. None lay lifeless on the rock.

  Thank you, StarClan!

  She sat next to Snowpaw, pressing against her sister to stop herself from trembling.

  “Did you see Hailstar’s face when Stormtail led his patrol up over the edge?” Adderfang crowed.

  Tawnyspots purred. “I had Ottersplash in a grip so tight she had to beg me to let her go!”

  Pinestar padded from warrior to warrior, checking injuries and murmuring praise.

  “Where did you two get to?” Sparrowpelt trotted toward them. One of his ears was bloody and his pelt was ruffled, tufts sticking out where claws had dug in.

  “I fell over the side,” Bluepaw explained.

  “We chased off Crookedpaw!” Snowpaw told him proudly.

  “Crookedpaw?” Sunfall joined them. “He’s big for an apprentice. Well done!” His eyes shone with pride.

  Snowpaw nudged Bluepaw’s bruised shoulder. “We make a good team,” she purred. Bluepaw nuzzled her sister, feeling a sudden burst of warmth and affection.

  As the last rays of the sun splashed the rock, Pinestar padded past them. “Your mother in StarClan will be very proud of you,” he meowed.

  Bluepaw glanced at the darkening sky. Gray clouds covered Silverpelt, and she hoped that beyond them, Moonflower was watching.

  Thrushpelt trotted over to report to Pinestar. “No major injuries.”

  “Then let’s go home,” the ThunderClan leader replied. With a flick of his tail he signaled to his Clan and led the way down toward the trees.

  Bluepaw trotted beside Snowpaw. They had beaten a RiverClan cat! But a pang of sadness pricked her belly. Why did it have to be Crookedpaw? She had liked the RiverClan apprentice. And now they were enemies. She struggled to understand the hostility in his eyes, so different from the warmth she had once seen.

  “I wish it wasn’t Crookedpaw we fought,” she sighed.

  Snowpaw glanced sideways at her. “Was he the one you were talking to at the Gathering?”

  Bluepaw nodded. “I thought we were friends.”

  “The truce only lasts as long as the full moon,” Snowpaw reminded her. “Deep down, we will always be rivals.”

  “So we can’t ever make friends with cats from other Clans?”

  Snowpaw shook her head. “It’s our duty not to,” she mewed.

  Patchpelt, Poppydawn, Rosepaw, and Goldenpaw met them at the top of the ravine.

  “Any sign of invasion?” Pinestar asked.

  Patchpelt c
lawed the ground, clearly still ready for a fight. “None.”

  As they entered the camp, Lionpaw raced to meet them. “Wow!” He stared at Bluepaw’s bloodied ear. “Does it hurt?”

  “A little,” Bluepaw lied. It stung like fury.

  “Did you shred them?” Poppydawn paced the clearing, sheathing and unsheathing her claws.

  “They won’t try taking Sunningrocks again,” Pinestar promised.

  “Any serious wounds?” Goosefeather was hurrying from the fern tunnel; Featherwhisker followed with a bundle of leaves in his jaws.

  “Just some scratches and bites,” Sunfall reported.

  Featherwhisker was already unwrapping his bundle while Goosefeather moved from cat to cat assessing the damage.

  “Bring cobwebs!” he called to Featherwhisker as he inspected a gash on Smallear’s leg.

  Suddenly exhausted, Bluepaw lay down beside the tree stump. Lionpaw paced around her. “I wish I’d gone!” he mewed. “I could have used that move you taught me.”

  “It’s the only one you know!” Bluepaw teased.

  “So?” Lionpaw leaped onto the tree stump and lifted his chin. “I would have just used my instinct the rest of the time.”

  Bluepaw began to purr, but the rumble stuck in her throat as she saw Thistlepaw rub his shoulder against Snowpaw, entwining his tail around hers.

  Adderfang interrupted them, circling his apprentice. “Well fought.”

  Thistlepaw curled his lip. “I just wish I could get the foul taste of RiverClan blood out of my mouth.”

  Adderfang narrowed his eyes. “You’ll taste more before you’re a warrior,” he promised grimly. “The battle may have been won today, but RiverClan will never allow us to keep Sunningrocks. We will fight again before long.”

  Bluepaw stared at him in dismay. Was this another battle that had been fought in vain? Was the life of a warrior nothing more than an endless circle of fighting and vengeance in answer to ancient quarrels?

  CHAPTER 14

 

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