Rainflower was licking her wounds. She looked up as he passed. “Well done, Crookedpaw,” she meowed, and returned to her washing.
Crookedpaw’s fur prickled with surprise. Rainflower had praised him! His heart lifted. Ducking through the sedge tunnel into Brambleberry’s den, he dropped the fish at the medicine cat’s paws. “How is he?”
Hailstar lay curled in a nest beside the wall of the den. Echomist sat beside him, lapping his pelt. The RiverClan leader’s fur was dull and matted, his flanks hardly moving.
“He’s stopped bleeding,” Brambleberry murmured. “But he lost a lot of blood.”
Echomist stiffened. “He’s not breathing!”
Brambleberry darted to the nest and pressed her ear to Hailstar’s flank. She sat up slowly. Crookedpaw shivered as silence gripped the den. Brambleberry broke it with a sigh as Hailstar took a sudden shuddering gasp. “He lost a life,” she mewed softly.
Echomist’s eyes glistened. “Then he’s on his ninth,” she breathed.
Brambleberry touched the she-cat’s cheek with her muzzle. “I’m afraid so.” She glanced at Crookedpaw. “You’d better go.”
Crookedpaw nodded and headed for the entrance.
“Thanks for the fish,” Brambleberry called after him.
Crookedpaw squeezed into the clearing. Rainflower was padding stiffly to her den. Oakheart rested his nose on his paws, his eyes closed. Tanglewhisker was carrying a lump of snow in his jaws. He dropped it beside Shimmerpelt, who began lapping at it thirstily. None of them knew that their leader had lost a life in the failed battle for Sunningrocks, just as Petaldust feared. It wasn’t Crookedpaw’s place to tell them; Brambleberry would do that, or Hailstar himself, once he had recovered.
If only I’d fought better! Mapleshade will never believe I’m worthy of being Clan leader now. Crookedpaw felt a rush of frustration. Next time I’ll fight like a StarClan warrior. Next time, I won’t let my Clan down!
Chapter 15
“Stop!” Mapleshade yowled.
“But I haven’t done it perfectly yet!” Crookedpaw lunged forward again, his belly brushing the ground. He twisted, thrusting out his hind paws with a grunt of effort. In the days since the battle he’d practiced harder than ever.
Mapleshade ignored him. “Stop!”
“I have to get this right.” Crookedpaw scrambled to his paws. “I’m never going to be beaten again!”
“You must wake up, Crookedpaw!” Mapleshade hissed. “Something’s happening.”
Crookedpaw stared at her in alarm. “Is the Clan in trouble?”
“Wake up!”
Crookedpaw blinked open his eyes. He scrambled to his paws, heart racing. The apprentices’ den was dark. He could hardly see the walls. Paws pricking, he slipped into the clearing and looked up at the sky. The moon was no more than a claw scratch. Dawn was lighting the distant moorland. The thaw, which had followed the defeat at Sunningrocks, had left the camp muddy. The reeds drooped, feigning death. The snow had melted, revealing moss once more. It squelched underpaw as Crookedpaw padded toward the reed bed. He peered through the stiff stems, tasting the air. Hailstar’s scent hung there, Timberfur’s, too. Crookedpaw followed their trail, picking out the fresh scent of Ottersplash, Owlfur, and Rippleclaw as he neared a gap in the sedge. They’d left camp recently.
Crookedpaw ducked, ready to follow. Just then, a screech tore the air. Bristling, Crookedpaw spun around. It had come from the other side of the river. A yowl followed it.
Ottersplash!
Crookedpaw darted across the clearing and leaped onto the fallen tree. Weaving past the dens, he headed along the jutting branch until he was above the reeds. His gaze followed the sliding river far upstream to the distant bank. Ottersplash and Owlfur were pelting down the slope from WindClan territory. They skimmed the low bushes with long strides. Rippleclaw and Timberfur followed. Dark bundles swung from their jaws. Crookedpaw’s heart skipped a beat as he heard mewling.
The kits! They had the kits!
Hailstar pounded after them, a WindClan warrior spitting at his heels. Reedfeather! Crookedpaw recognized the bristling pelt. Four snarling Clanmates sped alongside him. Timberfur and Rippleclaw were nearing the river. Crookedpaw gripped the bark under his claws, as the camp stirred behind him.
“What’s happening?”
“Who’s yowling?”
Dens rustled and paws hurried over wet moss. Oakheart scuttled along the branch and crouched behind him. “What is it?”
“Just watch!” Crookedpaw kept his gaze fixed on the fleeing patrol.
“Get into the river!” Hailstar’s yowl rang loud in the dawn air. Timberfur and Rippleclaw sprang off the shore and plunged into the shallows.
Willowkit squealed. “It’s cold!”
“Help!” Graykit was shrieking.
Hailstar slowed and turned to face Reedfeather. The WindClan warrior stopped a whisker from Hailstar’s nose. His Clanmates charged past him to the river’s edge. “You can’t steal my kits!”
Hailstar glanced over his shoulder, toward Rippleclaw and Timberfur who stood belly deep in the water. His eyes lit with triumph. “We already have!”
Spitting, Reedfeather struck the RiverClan leader with a blow so fierce it sent him crashing against a rock. Crookedpaw’s breath stopped. Hailstar lay still. Get up! Get up! Had the RiverClan leader given his final life to save the kits?
Reedfeather charged for the shore, following his Clanmates. He paused at the river’s edge as the others waded in, snarling. Ottersplash and Owlfur turned in the shallows and met their pursuers with a flurry of vicious swipes. Knocking one WindClan warrior back, Owlfur spun around and sent another floundering out of his depth with a mighty blow. Ottersplash dived under the belly of a dark tabby tom and sent him lurching off balance with a heave of her shoulders. As their Clanmates held off WindClan, Rippleclaw and Timberfur plunged toward RiverClan, necks stretched as they held the kits above water.
Reedfeather stared wildly as the RiverClan warriors staggered from the river and dropped the kits on the marshy bank. His Clanmates struggled back to shore on the WindClan side and hauled themselves out. Reedfeather turned to them in dismay. “We can’t give up! Those are my kits!” Without waiting for an answer, he whirled around and leaped into the river. “Give them back!” he screeched.
Behind him, Hailstar moved. He struggled to his paws and pelted after Reedfeather. With a grunt of effort, he jumped onto the WindClan deputy’s back, sending him flailing forward into the river.
As Reedfeather surfaced, spluttering, Hailstar lunged forward with his front paws outstretched and thrust the WindClan warrior beneath the water. His eyes glowed, reflecting the rising sun, as he held Reedfeather down. The other WindClan warriors backed away up the slope, their eyes as round as owls’.
Bubbles rose around Hailstar’s paws. Reedfeather was fighting for his life.
Let him go! Crookedpaw leaned forward, trembling. Don’t kill him! The kits are safe!
“Hailstar? Hailstar! Stop!” Owlfur splashed to his leader’s side. “You’re killing him.”
Hailstar gazed at his Clanmates, dazed. He released his grip and staggered backward. Owlfur tugged at Reedfeather’s pelt. “Help me get him out!” he spluttered.
Hailstar darted forward and grabbed Reedfeather’s scruff. Together they dragged him to the shore on WindClan’s side. Weak with relief, Crookedpaw hurried toward the kits.
Rippleclaw pressed against Willowkit while Timberfur lapped at Graykit’s dripping fur. The kits’ gaze was fixed on the far shore where Hailstar and Owlfur leaned over their father’s limp body.