Bluestar's Prophecy

by Erin Hunter

  “Spottedpaw!” Thrushpelt called down the fern tunnel to his apprentice. “Stop bothering Featherwhisker! Come and see what your duties are for the day.”

  “Sorry.” Spottedpaw hurried out with flecks of herbs on her paws. “I was just helping him mix comfrey.”

  Thrushpelt rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to be training as a warrior. There are enough medicine cats in this Clan already.”

  “Hi, Bluefur!” Frostpaw bounced out of the apprentices’ den. “What are we doing today?”

  Bluefur hadn’t planned the day’s training yet. Her thoughts had been too filled with Oakheart. “Hunting,” she meowed, saying the first thing that came into her head.

  “Okay.” Frostpaw sounded satisfied.

  “We must increase our hunting patrols,” Tawnyspots announced. “Cold weather will mean hunger, and we’ll face it better if we feed well now.”

  Tigerclaw’s tail whisked across the ground. “When do we set the new border markers around Sunningrocks?”

  “Sunstar plans to send a battle patrol at dusk,” Tawnyspots told him.

  “I want to be part of it,” Tigerclaw declared.

  “You will be,” Tawnyspots promised. “But StarClan willing, there’ll be no need to fight.”

  Tigerclaw didn’t answer, just sank his long claws into the hard earth.

  Bluefur’s heart quickened. What if she met Oakheart in battle? How could she fight him now?

  “Bluefur?” Tawnyspots was staring at her. “I hear you got a thorn in your pad yesterday. You’d better stay in camp today and let it heal.”

  Guilt shot through her. “It’s much better today.”

  “We don’t want it getting infected,” Tawnyspots reasoned. “You can help out in the nursery instead.”

  “But I promised Frostpaw I’d take her hunting.”

  Stormtail sat up from his meal. “I’m taking Brindlepaw to the sandy hollow. Frostpaw can come with us,” he offered. “They can practice battle moves.”

  “Thanks.” Bluefur stared at her paws, her ears hot, wishing that she really had stepped on a thorn. She lifted her head and watched ruefully as her apprentice followed Stormtail out of camp. She was telling lies already, and she hadn’t even met with Oakheart.

  “Can I give you some ointment for that paw?” Featherwhisker took her by surprise.

  “N-no, thanks.” Bluefur tucked her supposedly injured paw quickly behind the other, hoping he wouldn’t ask to examine it.

  “Not sore?”

  Bluefur shook her head. “It must have just been a sharp bit of reed or something,” she rambled. “Just a scratch, really.”

  Featherwhisker flicked his tail. “It just shows,” he mewed. “Cats should stick to their own territory.”

  Did he know she was lying? Alarmed, Bluefur searched the medicine cat apprentice’s gaze. Perhaps StarClan had told him something.

  “Well, keep it clean and if does start to throb, come and get something from the medicine den.” Featherwhisker padded toward the nursery.

  If StarClan didn’t want her to meet Oakheart, surely they would have said something to Featherwhisker, something that would make him stop her? Maybe StarClan wanted this to happen. Maybe it was her destiny.

  “I hate being left behind.” White-eye sighed.

  Bluefur lifted her chin off her paws. “They’ll be back soon,” she soothed.

  She was supposed to keep White-eye company while the battle patrol set the new border at Sunningrocks. But her thoughts were busy with Oakheart. What would he say? What would she say? What if she did something mouse-brained, like trip over her own tail? She stared at the dew sparkling on the clearing. The moon was rising.

  “Do you think they fought?” The pale gray queen glanced anxiously at Bluefur.

  Bluefur pricked her ears, listening for battle yowls. Would the noise reach this far? Which cats would Hailstar choose to defend the rocks?

  Stones clattered in the ravine. Bluefur sat up, her heart racing. “Did you win?” she called to Sunstar as he led the patrol into camp.

  “The mouse-hearts didn’t show up!” Thistleclaw crowed.

  Stormtail followed. “They hadn’t even renewed their markers.”

  Bluefur felt relief washing over her pelt.

  Oakheart was safe.

  Sunstar gazed around his Clan. “From now on, no Clan will dare threaten our borders.”

  White-eye purred as Sparrowpelt padded over and pressed his muzzle to hers. “There will be plenty of fresh-kill for our kits this leaf-bare,” Sparrowpelt murmured.

  Bluefur got to her paws. What was the mood in the River- camp? Bleak enough for Oakheart to change his mind about meeting a ThunderClan cat? She would still go to Fourtrees. If he felt half as restless and distracted as she did, he’d be there.

  “Let’s celebrate!” Tawnyspots stood at the fresh-kill pile and began tossing prey to his Clanmates.

  Bluefur narrowed her eyes. Why couldn’t they just go to their dens and sleep? Her claws itched with frustration. It would be ages before the Clan went to sleep. By the time she sneaked out, Oakheart might think she wasn’t coming.

  What if he went home?

  Oh, StarClan, what am I doing? Was she really going to slip out of camp and meet the RiverClan warrior? Her paws felt clammy. Am I mad?

  Whitestorm tossed a sparrow at her paws. “Join us!” he called. He was lying with Goldenflower and Lionheart, already making a hearty meal of a plump squirrel.

  Bluefur shrugged. She didn’t have any appetite—in fact, she couldn’t imagine ever being hungry again—but she didn’t want her Clanmates to start asking awkward questions or send her back to Featherwhisker. She padded over to Whitestorm and forced herself to take a mouthful of the sparrow. It tasted like splintered wood.

  Her heart thudded and skittered as she willed her Clanmates to their nests. Only when the moon hung high overhead did they begin to head for their dens. Bluefur stretched, pretending to yawn. She’d never felt less tired, but she headed into the warriors’ den, declaring to every cat within earshot how much she was looking forward to a good night’s sleep.

  The den was dark, despite the swollen moon. Bluefur tripped over Goldenflower as she picked her way to her nest. “Sorry,” she hissed when Goldenflower grunted.

  She curled down in the moss, eyes wide, as her denmates settled around her. None of them seemed willing to end the celebrations.

  “I thought they’d fight for Sunningrocks,” Lionheart admitted.

  “They might fight yet,” Thistleclaw growled. “New markers or not.”

  Were they going to talk about those wretched stones till dawn? Bluefur felt the night slipping away.

  “Are you okay?” Rosetail nudged Bluefur’s nest. “You keep fidgeting.”

  “I’m fine,” Bluefur answered quickly.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get to go to Sunningrocks,” Rosetail sympathized. “But you didn’t miss much.”

  “I don’t mind.” Bluefur closed her eyes. Go to sleep! Go to sleep!

  At last the den grew quiet. Gentle snores stirred the air.

  Gingerly, Bluefur got to her paws. Glancing around the nests, she looked for eyes glinting in the darkness.

  Nothing.

  Every cat was asleep.

  She padded silently around the edge of the den. Something soft squashed beneath her paw.

  “Get off!” Smallear’s sleepy mew made her jump. She stared down at the tom sprawled in his nest. She’d stepped on his tail.

  “Sorry!”

  He blinked, then rolled over and went back to sleep. Bluefur finally slipped out of the den. She skirted the clearing, keeping to the shadows.

  No signs of life.

  She crept toward the tunnel and crouched in the entrance. She could hear Adderfang keeping watch outside, his pelt brushing the gorse as he fidgeted. She waited until she heard his paw steps pad away. He must be patrolling the camp walls. She waited a moment, then scooted through the tunnel and slipped into the bu
shes on the other side.

  No sign of Adderfang.

  She darted out from the leaves and clambered over a rock, slipping down behind it, her breath coming fast. She couldn’t believe what she was doing: betraying everything that had once been important to her. She was a traitor, and not just to herself.

  To her Clan.

  To the warrior code.

  Her heart pounded. What was she doing? She had to go back. Peering over the rock, she saw Adderfang returning to his post. There was no way she could retrace her steps now without being seen. She had to go on.

  Silently, swiftly, she raced along the ravine and bounded up the rocks, careful not to disturb any loose stones. The moon lit her way as she scrambled over the top and sneaked into the forest. Keeping to the trails used by the Clan to go to the Gathering, Bluefur hurried through the forest. Moonlight shone through the bare branches, making the forest floor glow.

  Had he waited?

  Her heart rose in her throat when she reached the edge of the hollow. Below her, Fourtrees stood eerily silent, casting thick black shadows across the clearing.

  If Bluefur kept going, she would change the course of her life. She knew it with such intensity that her paws seemed to freeze. For a moment she sensed the spirit of Snowfur. Her sister’s scent drifted in the air as birch-smooth fur wreathed around her pelt. Snowfur was trying to tell her something.

  What is it?

  Frustration surged through Bluefur’s pelt. Was Snowfur trying to stop her, or was she giving her blessing?

  “I have to do this,” Bluefur whispered. “Please understand. It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, or that I’m not loyal to my Clan.”

  She shook herself, letting the cold night air pierce her fur and chase away the scents of her sister. Then she stepped over the crest and headed down the slope into the moon-bathed hollow.

  CHAPTER 36

  He waited!

  Bluefur’s heart quickened as she saw Oakheart silhouetted in the moonlight. He sat gazing at the Great Rock, eyes shining. Leaves crunched under Bluefur’s paws as she approached him, echoing across the hollow.

  He whipped around. “You came!”

  She could smell his scent now. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of what to say.

  “I thought maybe you weren’t going to…” He seemed to run out of words and stared at her instead.

  Such softness in his eyes.

  “I couldn’t get away,” she whispered.

  “But you did.”

  “Yes.”

  Silence.

  Is that it? Bluefur felt panic rising inside her. She shouldn’t have come. This was a big mistake. Beneath their feet, the grass was sparkling with frost. Were they going to stand here like mouse-brains searching for words till their paws froze to the ground?

  “It’s too cold to stand around.” Oakheart echoed what she was thinking.

  This is ridiculous. She might not know what to say to the RiverClan warrior, but she knew the best way of warming up. Bluefur nodded toward the largest of the trees. “I’ll race you to the top of that oak!” She raced away, then realized Oakheart wasn’t following.

  She skidded to a halt and looked back at him. “What’s wrong?”

  Oakheart was twitching the tip of his tail. “RiverClan cats don’t climb!”

  Bluefur purred. “You’re a cat, aren’t you? Of course you climb. Come on, I’ll show you. Unless you’re scared,” she added mischievously.

  “No way!” Oakheart’s eyes lit up. He charged past her and balanced on one of the roots twisting out of the earth at the foot of the nearest oak tree. “What now?” He gazed up at the wide, gnarled trunk.

  “Watch.” Bluefur jumped up with her claws stretched out, and gripped the bark with her front paws. She kept her hind claws sheathed so she could use her back paws to push herself up. “Old trees like this are easier,” she called down over her shoulder. “The bark’s thick and soft. Even a hefty cat like you should be able to claw his way up.”

  “Who are you calling hefty?” Oakheart sprang after her. His paws grabbed clumsily at the tree trunk, but strength and determination kept him hanging on, and he prepared for his next jump.

  Bluefur said nothing. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of hearing that he was doing better than she expected. Taking a deep breath, she scooted upward, bounding onto a low branch. Oakheart scrambled up and collapsed next to her, panting. “Do you actually enjoy this?”

  “Of course!” She waved her tail over the edge. “Look.” The clearing sparkled below them as if stars had fallen onto the ground.

  Oakheart gazed cautiously over the edge. “Not bad,” he conceded.

  “Ready for the next branch?”

  “As soon as you are.”

  Bluefur reached up to a knotty hole and used it to haul herself higher before digging in her hind claws and leaping up onto the next jutting branch. “Can you manage?” she called down.

  Oakheart was hanging from the knot with his hind legs churning the air. “I’m absolutely fine,” he muttered through clenched teeth. He caught the bark with his claws and propelled himself upward so fast that Bluefur had to jump along the branch to avoid getting knocked off.

  “Very elegant,” she teased.

  “I’m glad you think so,” he growled playfully. “But I’ll get you back!”

  “How?”

  “Wait till I teach you to swim.”

  Bluefur stared at him, gripping the branch harder with her claws. “No way,” she told him, feeling her heart begin to race. Stop it! He doesn’t know about the prophecy! He’ll think you’re just being a scaredy-mouse.

  Oakheart’s whiskers twitched. “Scared of water?”

  “Scared of heights?” She flashed him a challenging look and scrambled up to the next branch.

  “You can’t scare me,” Oakheart boasted, catching up to her and squeezing his bulky shape onto the slender strip of wood.

  “Oh no?” She jumped to the next branch.

  “No.” He landed next to her.

  “Okay, I’m impressed.” Bluefur leaned her head to one side. “Have you really never climbed before?”

  “Never.”

  “Do you want to go higher?”

  “Right to the top.”

  Bluefur led him up through the tree, sending half-dead leaves showering down. The Great Rock looked like a pebble by the time they’d reached the highest branch that would support their weight. It dipped and bobbed when Bluefur jumped onto it, but she let her body rock with the motion, allowing the branch to find its own balance.

  Oakheart sat down beside her, puffing, and stared at the ground far below. “Wow.”

  Bluefur gazed at the starry sky, open above them. “Do you think StarClan knows what we’re doing?” The stars blurred as she felt Oakheart’s pelt brush against hers.

  “If they can’t see us up here, they can’t see us anywhere,” Oakheart replied. He didn’t seem in any hurry to move his pelt away.

  Bluefur tensed. So he thought StarClan was watching them right now?

  Oakheart turned to look at her. “Look at that clear sky,” he mewed gently. “Don’t you think StarClan would send clouds to cover the moon, or rain, if they disapproved of us meeting here?”

  Yet again, he’d known exactly what she was thinking. “I guess so.” Bluefur hoped it was true.

  A breeze made the tree tremble and their branch started to sway again. Oakheart gasped and clung on tighter, which made it lurch more.

  “Let’s go down,” Bluefur suggested. “Just follow me.” She led him the easiest route she could find, glancing over her shoulder to check that he was okay. He looked a lot less confident now. He scrambled and slithered from branch to branch without speaking, and she saw relief flood his gaze as they landed back on the roots.

  “Thank StarClan,” he sighed, sliding down onto the ground and sinking his claws into the earth.

  Bluefur purred. “Not bad for a fish-face.”

  Oak
heart looked at her sharply. “What did you call me?”

  Bluefur met his gaze. “Fish-face.”

  He lunged for her, purring, but she hopped quickly out of the way and hared toward the Great Rock.

  “You wait till I get my paws on you!” Oakheart threatened, but his voice cracked with amusement.

  “You’ll never catch me!”

  Bluefur charged around the Great Rock and dodged behind the oaks, Oakheart never more than a tail-length behind her, until she flopped onto the ground, panting.

  “I can’t run anymore!” she gasped.

  Oakheart collapsed beside her.

  “Fish-face!” she whispered.

  He suddenly flipped himself over and sunk his teeth softly into her scruff, pinning her to the ground. “Who’s a fish-face?” he mewed through a mouthful of fur.

  “No one!” she wailed.

  Oakheart rolled off and sat up, catching his breath. Bluefur pushed herself onto her haunches and leaned against him, enjoying the smoothness of his pelt and the firmness of his muscles beneath. He still smelled a bit fishy, but his scent was overlaid with the tang of pines.

  Oakheart sighed. “I’ve waited so many moons for this.” He twisted his head and looked down into her eyes. “For you.”

  Bluefur dropped her gaze to her paws, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Oakheart nuzzled her as she looked up at him.

  “Every cat in my Clan’s been telling me to get a mate,” he murmured. “But I want no other mate but you.”

  “I know what you mean,” Bluefur mewed. “Larksong told me I should pair off with…” She stopped, seeing hurt spark his gaze.

  Oakheart leaned away. “Is there another cat who…?”

  “No,” Bluefur mewed quickly. “Only…”

  “Only what?”

  “I’ve been raising Snowfur’s kit. I haven’t had time to think about mates.”

  “You’ve done a great job. Your sister would be proud of you. But Whitestorm’s a warrior now,” Oakheart pointed out. “You’ve got time to live your own life.”

  “Maybe,” Bluefur whispered. “But this can never happen.”

  “What?”