“Twolegs have set up a camp on our land. Their nests are small, and they keep changing as new Twolegs come and old Twolegs go. During greenleaf, I led the patrols that monitored the intrusion.” His mew was calm and clear. His gaze brushed the Clans, holding the attention of every cat. “We wanted to discover the Twolegs’ intentions, whether this was the beginning of a bigger invasion or the start of a new Twolegplace. As far as we can tell, the new camp exists to house Twolegs without proper nests. They bring their own dens, made of soft flapping pelts, and take them away when they leave. Though they stray from their camp and have become quite a nuisance on one stretch of the river, for the most part they seem peaceful and prefer to head out of RiverClan territory. So far no Twoleg has come near RiverClan’s camp. But we have plans in place to distract them if they should.”
Mews of approval sounded from the Clans.
“Wise idea,” Adderfang murmured.
Talltail of WindClan nodded to one of his Clanmates. “Sounds like they’re handling the situation well.”
Hailstar finished the report as Oakheart slid unobtrusively from the rock. “The Twolegs are coming less often now that leaf-fall is here. Let us hope that the freezing leaf-bare weather will drive them away altogether.”
“Wow.” Rosetail leaned against Bluefur. “Why don’t we have a warrior like that in ThunderClan?” she sighed.
Bluefur pretended she didn’t know what Rosetail meant. “Like Hailstar?”
“No, mouse-brain!” Rosetail nudged her. “Like Oakheart.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, he’s RiverClan. There may be a truce, but we’re still supposed to be loyal to our own Clanmates.” Bluefur felt oddly uncomfortable hearing Rosetail mooning over the RiverClan warrior. Am I jealous? She pushed the thought away quickly. The leaders were jumping down from the Great Rock. It seemed that the rich greenleaf had brought harmony to the Clans, and there was nothing more to discuss. Perhaps they’d be home before Tigerkit was asleep after all.
Bluefur padded up the slope, pulling ahead of her Clanmates. She didn’t want to hear any more praise for the young RiverClan warrior. She wanted to push Oakheart out of her mind. If it wasn’t for him, Snowfur would be alive. And yet the memory of his gaze in the moonlight lingered in her mind. Bluefur recalled what she had said to Snowfur beside the river: RiverClan can’t be all bad, can they? I mean, they must be cats like us.
Paw steps sounded at her tail as Sunstar caught up. “Are you in a hurry to get home?” he asked, puffing slightly.
“I just want to get to my nest.”
“Are you tired?”
“A little.”
“Good.” The ThunderClan leader’s mew was gentle. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping well.”
Is it any wonder? Bluefur’s pelt prickled once again.
“I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Did I have any choice?”
“We always have a choice,” Sunstar reminded her. “I think Pinestar proved that.”
Bluefur didn’t reply. She wondered what the ThunderClan leader really wanted to say.
“For example,” he went on.
Here we go.
“You can choose whether to help your Clan or be a burden to it.”
“I’m not a burden.”
Sunstar didn’t seem interested in Bluefur’s objections. “You can choose whether to remember Snowfur by resting your chin on your paws all day or by being the warrior she would expect you to be.”
It felt like they’d had this conversation before. Over Moonflower.
“You’ve had much grief for one cat,” Sunstar admitted. “But life goes on. Whitekit will become an apprentice and then a warrior, and you can choose to help him with that or to let him work it out for himself.” The ThunderClan leader glanced at her as they crossed a glade flooded with gray moonlight. “I have high hopes for you, Bluefur. You were my apprentice once, and I will always feel like your mentor. I want you to strive to become the best warrior you can be, because I believe one day ThunderClan will have need of your gifts.”
Bluefur slowed to a stop and allowed Sunstar to continue on without her. Does he know about the prophecy? Surely not, or he would have said something. Besides, blazing through the forest at the head of her Clan didn’t seem so exciting now that Snowfur and Moonflower couldn’t share her success. Had she really believed Goosefeather’s vague prophecy once? Snowfur had said it was nonsense, just the rambling of a cranky old medicine cat. Maybe she’d been right all along.
As her Clanmates thronged around her at the top of the ravine, Bluefur gazed across the valley with Goosefeather’s words echoing in her head.
You are fire, and you will blaze through the forest. But beware: Even the most powerful flames can be destroyed by water.
Chapter 30
When sleep came, it came furiously, chaotic with images and sounds. Bluefur dreamed of stars swirling above a wind-tossed forest. The gale tugged her fur as it swept from the moorland to the edge of the gorge where she teetered, staring down into the foaming torrent far below. A blotch of white pelt was spinning in the crashing waters, flung downstream by the raging current.
“Snowfur!” Bluefur’s panicked screech was whipped away by the wind. Below, her sister disappeared, sucked down by the water, then thrown up again just long enough to shriek, “Whitekit!”
Horror clutched Bluefur’s heart as she saw a smaller scrap spun in the current farther downstream.
“My son!” Snowfur’s yowl echoed from the towering walls of rock that channeled the water into a seething fury.
“No!” Bluefur raced along the edge of the gorge, scrabbling over boulders, leaping ledges, heading downstream to where she knew the gorge opened into calmer waters. She could reach Snowfur and Whitekit there, if the jagged rocks jutting midstream did not batter them to death first.
She felt their terror, sensed their paws churning helplessly against the massive flood as the water wrenched them down, filling their ears and eyes and noses. She felt their aching lungs gasp for breath as they struggled to reach air. She felt their fragile bodies slam past rocks and be dragged over grazing stone, buffeted by boulder after boulder as the current swept them mercilessly on.
Where the gorge ended and the water flowed out past gently sloping shores, Bluefur waded into the shallows and peered upstream, searching for Snowfur and Whitekit. The water drenched her pelt, tried to pull her away from the cliffs, but she dug in her claws, gripping the riverbed and praying to StarClan.
It should be me drowning, not them. That is my destiny, not theirs.
Snowfur appeared first, flung out of the canyon with her head barely above water. “Save my son!” Her terrified shriek was choked by the waves as the river sucked her under again.
“Snowfur!” Hysterical, Bluefur tried to wade toward her sister, but the torrent pushed her back.
A scrap of white fur bobbed toward her.
Whitekit.
She could save him. The tiny shape hurtled toward her, his paws flailing, his squeals piercing the air.
I won’t let you die.
Plunging in up to her chin, Bluefur lunged for him as he passed, grabbing his scruff in her teeth and pulling him close. She churned her paws until she felt the riverbed beneath them, then dragged him, limp, onto the bank.
“You’re safe now,” she gasped, coughing water. “It’s all right.” Her mew grew fierce as she willed him to open his eyes. “I won’t let anything hurt you, ever!”
But Whitekit lay still, water bubbling at his lips and streaming from his pelt.