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 bushes 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.