Oakheart’s gaze caught Crookedpaw’s. “It’s your turn next,” he purred.
Rainflower flicked her ears. “Does that matter right now?” she murmured. “He’ll never be as good as you.” Her words sliced through Crookedpaw’s heart like claws.
Shellheart’s head snapped around and he glared at his former mate. Rage blazed in his eyes. “Can’t you keep your thoughts to yourself, just once?”
Why did she have to spoil it? Crookedpaw fought the anger tightening his throat.
“Ignore her,” Oakheart urged, steering Crookedpaw away. His eyes grew bright. “Look!” He glanced up at the round moon. “You know what night it is?”
“Full moon?”
“The Gathering!”
Of course! Crookedpaw felt a surge of excitement. He was an apprentice now. He could go! He glanced anxiously at Hailstar. Couldn’t he?
Oakheart nudged him. “Hailstar has to let you come!” he promised. “You’re an apprentice and I’m a warrior. Only a frog-brain would stop us from going to the Gathering tonight!”
Chapter 13
Crookedpaw’s breath billowed in the cold air and turned to ice on his whiskers. Frosted snow cracked underpaw as he followed his Clanmates down the bank toward the river. His pelt pricked with excitement. His first Gathering! He pressed against Oakheart.
“Will we use the Twoleg bridge?”
Hailstar was leading the patrol along the shore toward the wooden crossing. The frozen river shone silver below as it snaked up into the gorge.
“It’s the safest way to cross tonight,” Oakheart whispered.
Warriors never made use of Twoleg paths if they could help it, but the frozen river was untested, and the stepping-stones were too icy to risk. Hailstar jumped over the low fence on to the bridge and landed in churned snow. Brightsky followed, her paws slithering on the frosty rail. Petaldust ducked under it as Beetlenose scrambled over.
“Hurry up, you two!” Cedarpelt called over his shoulder.
Crookedpaw bounded forward, Oakheart’s pelt brushing his as they skidded down the bank. Owlfur and Ottersplash slipped on to the bridge just ahead of them, their pelts sharply outlined against the white ground. Brambleberry, her pelt pale as the snow, followed like a ghost behind them.
Shellheart paused beside Cedarpelt and let Crookedpaw and Oakheart pass. “I hope it’s a peaceful Gathering,” he mewed.
Cedarpelt sniffed. “Surely even ThunderClan wouldn’t break the full moon truce?”
As the two warriors fell in behind, Crookedpaw glanced over his shoulder. “WindClan might,” he predicted.
“They’ll still be angry that ThunderClan attacked their camp,” Oakheart agreed.
Shellheart padded on to the bridge. “We’re angry they took Graykit and Willowkit,” he pointed out. “But we won’t fight over them tonight.”
Crookedpaw pricked his ears. “When will we fight over them?”
Shellheart glanced at Hailstar. “Probably never,” he muttered.
Crookedpaw peered over the side of the bridge. Moonlight glared on the ice. He looked up, blinking, and saw his Clanmates streaming up the slope toward ThunderClan territory. “Aren’t we going to follow the path beside the waterfall?”
Oakheart shook his head. “There’s a truce,” he reminded him. “We can cross ThunderClan territory straight to the hollow tonight.”
Crookedpaw was out of breath by the time he reached the top of the short, steep rise. Oakheart had already disappeared into the trees crowding on either side. He gazed up at the looming trunks, wrinkling his nose.
“Don’t you like it?” Brambleberry had waited for him.
“It smells horrible.” Crookedpaw shivered. The bushes growing around the trunks were drenched with ThunderClan scent.
“Are you excited about the Gathering?” Brambleberry asked gently.
“Yeah!” Why wouldn’t he be?
“I’m very proud of you,” she murmured. “After you broke your jaw I thought you’d never become an apprentice.” She glanced at him. “But you’ve grown so strong, I hardly recognize you.” A purr rolled in her throat as she quickened her pace and caught up with the rest of the patrol.
Crookedpaw watched their pelts flashing through the undergrowth. Drifts of snow hemmed the trail even here where the sky was hardly visible.
“No wonder ThunderClan wants Sunningrocks,” Crookedpaw muttered to himself. “They must never see the sun in here.” He was relieved when they broke out of the forest and wind swept the stink of ThunderClan from his pelt.
As his Clanmates halted, Crookedpaw fluffed out his pelt. The land sloped away at his paw tips, opening into a wide valley. In the middle, four great oaks guarded a clearing. Fourtrees.
Brightsky paced the crest of the slope. “We’re the last to arrive.”
Mudfur tasted the air. “ThunderClan just got here.”
“It’s very quiet,” Petaldust whispered.
Crookedpaw narrowed his eyes. Countless pelts swarmed between the four oaks, shoaling like fish around a huge boulder. That must be the Great Rock!
A growl rumbled in Hailstar’s throat. “They’ve started without us.” The RiverClan leader plunged down the slope, snow flying in his wake. Owlfur and Shellheart followed, Beetlenose and Mudfur on their tail.
“Come on!” Oakheart bounded after them.
Crookedpaw hesitated.
Cedarpelt’s nudged him. “Are you ready?”
To be announced as a RiverClan apprentice? To meet the other Clans as an equal? Yes!
Energy fizzed beneath his pelt. “Let’s go!” Crookedpaw leaped over the edge and streamed down the slope with his Clanmates. Moonlight lit their glossy pelts as they raced for the clearing. Crookedpaw pushed harder, catching up with them as they skidded to a halt beneath a gigantic oak. He stared up through the branches, his eyes wide. It was bigger than any tree in RiverClan territory. It was even bigger than ThunderClan’s trees. He felt dizzy. Did the top branches touch the stars?
“Come on.” Hailstar flicked his tail and pushed into the crowd.
Crookedpaw scanned the sea of pelts, confused by jumbled scents. Oakheart slid among the gathered cats and disappeared as Hailstar jumped onto the Great Rock, where three other cats waited, starlight glinting in their eyes.
Crookedpaw looked at his mentor. “Which way do I go?”
“Follow me.” Cedarpelt nudged his way between two tabby toms.
The toms leaned aside to let him pass and Crookedpaw followed, keeping his nose to Cedarpelt’s tail until they stopped in the middle.
“It’s warmer here,” Cedarpelt murmured.
Crookedpaw, hot with excitement, wished it wasn’t. He turned on the spot, staring. He’d never seen so many cats. Where were his Clanmates? His heart lurched as he spotted Reedfeather. The WindClan warrior sat among his Clanmates, staring up at the Great Rock, ears flattened against the cold. Crookedpaw stretched up, balancing on his hind legs to get a better look.
“Don’t stare.” Cedarpelt nudged him and he stumbled forward.
“Watch out!” A pale gray she-cat with ThunderClan scent turned and hissed at him as he fell against her. Her long fur quivered with annoyance. “You nearly knocked me over!” She stopped and stared at him.
For the first time in moons, Crookedpaw remembered his twisted jaw. He shrank beneath his pelt. Why did she have to stare like he was a talking frog? He swallowed and steadied himself with a deep breath. “Hi,” he mewed. “I’m Crookedpaw.”
“Crookedpaw?”
Her eyes were round and blue and hid nothing. He could see her thoughts. She knows it’s not my paws that are crooked. “I’m guessing my warrior name will be Crookedjaw,” he joked half-heartedly.