The undergrowth shook as Thrushpelt burst onto the shore. Adderfang, Sparrowpelt, and Lionheart hurtled out behind him. Thank StarClan! They might be able to calm him.
But when Thistleclaw turned around, his eyes were mild and his fur flat. “Nothing to worry about,” he mewed evenly. “Just a RiverClan warrior sniffing around. We chased him off.”
“Nice job,” Adderfang praised.
“Well spotted,” Sparrowpelt added.
Thrushpelt caught Bluefur’s eye, puzzled. Bluefur shook her head. This wasn’t the time to challenge Thistleclaw.
Adderfang nodded at Tigerclaw. “I hope you’re still learning from Thistleclaw. He’s quite a warrior. Impressive paw steps to fill.”
Tigerclaw dipped his head. “I never miss a thing,” he meowed smoothly.
“Is the area clear?” Adderfang asked.
“Clear.” Thistleclaw headed into the trees. He didn’t even glance at Bluefur. It was as if nothing had passed between them at all.
Bluefur tagged behind with Thrushpelt as the patrol headed back to camp. Was Oakheart okay? Did he make it back to his Clanmates? At least Ottersplash’s patrol hadn’t come back to look for him. It would only have confirmed Thistleclaw’s paranoia.
Blood lies in his path.
Bluefur shivered. She had to warn Sunstar.
Back at camp, the ThunderClan leader listened to reports from Thistleclaw and Adderfang. He’d taken them to his den and, frustrated, Bluefur could only guess what Thistleclaw was telling him about Oakheart’s “invasion.” She waited impatiently, pacing around the clearing even though her paws were sore and tired.
“Here.” Thrushpelt dropped a sparrow at her paws. “You need to eat.”
Bluefur sighed and sat down. It was pointless to pretend she wasn’t hungry. Her belly felt empty all the time now.
Thrushpelt watched as she began to eat. “Have you thought about what I said?” he asked.
Bluefur swallowed. With Thistleclaw so suspicious of her relationship with Oakheart, she’d be mouse-brained not to take up Thrushpelt’s offer. “Do you really mean it?”
Thrushpelt nodded.
“Thank you.” As she bent down to take another bite of sparrow, the lichen at Sunstar’s den swished, and Adderfang and Thistleclaw padded out.
Bluefur glanced at Thrushpelt. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She hurried to the ThunderClan leader’s den. “It’s Bluefur,” she called through the lichen.
“Come in.”
She pushed her way in, sending light rippling across the sandy cave floor.
Sunstar sat in shadow. “We’re lucky to have loyal warriors like Thistleclaw.”
Bluefur stiffened. “I know he’s loyal, but—”
Sunstar cut her off. “He’s a warrior ThunderClan can be proud of.”
“But I was there when he was attacking Oakheart.”
“Attacking?” Sunstar eyed her quizzically. “I thought he was defending. Oakheart was the one who was trespassing. Thistleclaw was merely following the warrior code.”
“The warrior code speaks of fairness and mercy,” Bluefur began. Thistleclaw had been ruthless. “He would have murd—” Before she could finish, Sunstar interrupted.
“You shouldn’t get involved in any more border skirmishes.”
Bluefur was puzzled. Didn’t he trust her? What had Thistleclaw said about her?
Sunstar glanced at her belly. “At least not until after your kits are born.”
“You know?” Bluefur gasped.
“It’s getting obvious,” Sunstar purred. “I may not have had kits myself, but I know what an expectant queen looks like.” He padded past her, nosing through a gap in the lichen. Then he paused and looked back. “You’ll be a wonderful mother, an asset to the Clan.” A small sigh escaped him. “I had hoped that one day you’d follow in my paw steps, but StarClan seems to have a different path for you. Fortunately,” he went on, gazing out at the clearing, “there’s another who may be able to lead this Clan one day.”
Belly tightening, Bluefur followed his gaze.
He was staring at Thistleclaw.
The spiky warrior was boasting about his great victory over Oakheart to an excited knot of cats, while Tigerclaw raked the air, demonstrating his moves. Chilled to the bone, Bluefur backed away.
Thistleclaw couldn’t be allowed to take over ThunderClan. He would destroy them all!
Chapter 40
“Are they coming yet?” White-eye called. She tugged Runningkit back by his tail and tucked him in their nest beside his sister. Mousekit had fallen asleep, tired of waiting for her new denmates to arrive.
Sunlight filtered into the nursery, muted by the thick layer of snow weighing heavily on the bramble roof. Inside it was warm from the breath of several cats crowded together.
“It won’t be long,” Featherwhisker murmured, concentrating hard as Bluefur shuddered with another contraction. Spottedpaw leaned in close.
“Put your paw here.” Featherwhisker placed his new apprentice’s paw on Bluefur’s belly. “Can you feel her body trying to push the kits out?”
Spottedpaw nodded solemnly. When Goosefeather had moved to the elders’ den half a moon ago, Spottedpaw had begged to switch from her warrior training to learning to be a medicine cat. Featherwhisker had told Sunstar that he could think of no better apprentice. Her memory for herbs was outstanding, and even more important, the pretty young tortoiseshell’s compassion shone in every word and every look.
“Get your paws off!” Bluefur hissed, wracked by another contraction. As it faded she saw dismay in Spottedpaw’s gentle gaze. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I just didn’t expect it to hurt this much.”
“Did I hurt you?” Spottedpaw fretted.
Featherwhisker stroked his tail along the young cat’s flank. “No,” he assured her. “Queens can be a bit crabby when kitting.” He narrowed his eyes at Bluefur. “Some are crabbier than others.”
“You’d be crabby if you’d been kitting since dawn!” Bluefur snapped, pain convulsing her body once more.
Oh, Snowfur, help me!
Soft breath stirred her ear fur, and an achingly familiar scent wreathed around her.
Not much longer, my precious sister. You’re doing well.
“Here comes the first one,” Featherwhisker mewed. “Spottedpaw, when it arrives, nip the kitting sac with your teeth to release it.”
Spottedpaw wriggled into position as a small, wet bundle tumbled into the nest.
“A tom!” Featherwhisker announced.
“Is he okay?” Bluefur craned her neck to see her first kit, her paws trembling with excitement.
“Quick, Spottedpaw!” Featherwhisker instructed. “Lick him fiercely!”
Bluefur gasped. “Is he breathing?”
Her heart lurched when Featherwhisker hesitated.
“Well?”
“He is now.” Featherwhisker picked up the tiny kit and put him beside Bluefur’s belly.
He felt warm and damp against her fur. Trembling with relief, Bluefur leaned forward and sniffed her son. It was the most perfect scent in the world. “He’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Another wave of pain rippled along her flank.
Not much longer, Snowfur promised.
“A she-kit,” Featherwhisker meowed as he placed a second kit next to her belly. He pressed his paw gently on her flank. “One more I think.”
There was a final, heaving pain, and Bluefur flopped down onto the moss, panting.
“Well done!” Featherwhisker congratulated her. “Another she-kit! And all three look healthy and strong.”
Well done, Snowfur’s soft mew whispered.
Thank you, Snowfur. Bluefur wrapped her tail around her three new kits and held them tightly to her belly. As they began to suckle, memory of the pain faded like a bad dream. Oakheart, we have two daughters and a son.