“Is he dead?” Willowkit wailed.
Owlfur began to rub Reedfeather’s chest.
“Should I get Brambleberry?” Crookedpaw offered.
Rippleclaw looked up, his eyes dark. “It’d be too late.”
Suddenly Reedfeather coughed, twisting and vomiting river water.
“He’s alive!” Willowkit’s eyes shone. Then she turned and stared at Crookedpaw. “Is he going to take us home now?”
“This is your home!” Fallowtail exploded out of the reeds. She skidded to a stop and stared, huge-eyed, at her kits. “You’ve grown,” she breathed. “You’ve grown so big.” Her mew cracked.
“Fallowtail!” Graykit ducked away from Timberfur and raced to her mother, rubbing her muzzle along Fallowtail’s jaw and purring loud enough to wake the birds. Willowkit rushed to join her, tucking herself under Fallowtail’s belly. On the far shore, the WindClan warriors were helping Reedfeather up the slope. His drenched fur clung to his bony shape, and he was limping badly.
Owlfur slid into the water and swam toward home. Hailstar followed. Crookedpaw shivered. Just for a moment, Hailstar had wanted to kill Reedfeather. Not for his own sake—Reedfeather had done nothing to him personally—but for the sake of his Clan, because Hailstar truly believed the kits belonged to RiverClan. Will I ever fight like that?
A voice breathed in Crookedpaw’s ear.
Mapleshade!
Her mew was fierce. One day it will be your turn to show your Clan you are worthy of being their leader, Crookedpaw. I have faith in you, young warrior.
Chapter 16
“Willowpaw! Graypaw!”
The cheers of the Clan rang in the golden morning air as they welcomed their newest apprentices. Fallowtail called loudest of all, her blue eyes misting. Crookedpaw purred. At last he’d have denmates!
Willowpaw stood in the center of the clearing; her amber eyes shone and her pale tabby coat reflected the rising sun. Her mentor, Owlfur, touched his white-splashed muzzle to Willowpaw’s head while Brightsky padded proudly around her first apprentice, Graypaw.
Hailstar stepped back, chin high. “WindClan’s loss is our gain!”
In the two moons since the RiverClan leader had led the patrol to rescue RiverClan’s youngest members, newleaf had furred the stark branches of the willows with soft green buds. The reeds had lifted their snow-crushed fronds and were thick with new growth. And the river was beginning to lose its biting chill.
“What are we going to do first?” As the Clan began to return to its duties, Willowpaw stared excitedly at Owlfur.
Owlfur glanced conspiratorially at Cedarpelt.
“What?” Crookedpaw knew when his mentor was keeping a secret. Cedarpelt’s pelt was pricking. Purring, the brown warrior padded toward Owlfur.
Crookedpaw scampered after him. “Is something going on?”
“We’re going to the Moonstone to share with StarClan,” Cedarpelt told him. “I wanted to take you there before, but I thought you’d prefer to share the experience with denmates.”
I have denmates! Crookedpaw circled his mentor excitedly. And we’re going to the Moonstone!
Graypaw pricked her ears. “We’re going, too?”
Cedarpelt nodded. “Yes.”
“Really?” Willowpaw’s gaze glittered anxiously. “It’ll mean traveling through WindClan territory,” she mewed. “What if they steal us back?”
Crookedpaw cocked his head, surprised. “Would you let them?”
“Of course not!” Willowpaw lashed her tail.
Graypaw fluffed out her fur. “WindClan follows the warrior code, okay?” she reminded her sister. “They’d never stop us from traveling to the Moonstone.” She and Willowpaw exchanged a glance and Crookedpaw wondered what memories they were sharing. They’d seemed happy to return to their mother’s Clan, but they never criticized WindClan, who had cared for and nurtured them for a whole moon.
“It must have been disgusting,” Beetlenose had goaded them, more than once. “Eating rabbit.”
Even Voleclaw had joined in. “Weren’t you cold?” he wondered. “How could a heather den keep out the wind? Especially up on the moorland. It never stops up there.”
But Graypaw and Willowpaw had just shrugged. “They treated us well, but we’re glad to be home,” was all they’d ever say.
Crookedpaw respected their careful silence.
“Ignore him,” he told them. “Beetlenose likes to get under other cats’ pelts.”
He’d settled down beside Willowkit one evening, while the Clan was sharing tongues. Beetlenose had been calling her rabbit-breath all afternoon and her pelt was still spiked. “When I was on the farm, I hunted mice,” he told her quietly. “I got so used to the taste it was hard eating fish again.” He wanted her to know that he understood what it felt like to come back, to have her loyalty questioned. “Even Oakheart teased me about being more like a ThunderClan cat than a RiverClan cat.”
She blinked at him. “Really?”
“Really.” He purred and touched his muzzle to her ear. “Don’t worry. They’ll get over it.”
But that was last moon. Now, he was just glad they were ’paws—not only because he’d have denmates but because they’d have a chance to show their loyalty to their true Clan.
“When are we leaving?” He paced around Cedarpelt.
“Go to Brambleberry,” Cedarpelt ordered. “She has traveling herbs ready for you.”
Graypaw screwed up her nose.
“You’ll be thankful for them by sunhigh,” Owlfur told her. “We have a long way to go.”
Crookedpaw raced for Brambleberry’s den, but Willowpaw darted ahead of him and slipped through the entrance first. Three piles of herbs were laid out on the den floor.
Brambleberry was pulling stale supplies from a gap in the reeds. “I’m glad newleaf’s here,” she muttered. “There’s hardly any goodness left in this coltsfoot, and we’ll be needing poppy seeds before long.”
Crookedpaw sniffed at one of the herb piles she’d prepared. It smelled sour. “Do we have to chew them or can we just swallow them whole?”
Brambleberry dropped a pawful of shrivelled mallow on the floor. “Swallow them whole,” she advised. “It’ll slow down their effect till you really need it.”
Closing his eyes, Crookedpaw gulped down the herbs. He shuddered. Even without chewing they left a bitter taste on his tongue.
“Yuck!” Graypaw made a face as she swallowed hers.
Willowpaw winced but didn’t complain. “How far is it to the Moonstone?” she asked Brambleberry when she’d licked her lips.
“You’ll be there by nightfall if you keep up a good pace.” Brambleberry shrugged. “The journey’s nothing once you get used to it.” She traveled it every half-moon with the other medicine cats to share tongues with StarClan. “The worst bit is Mothermouth.” Her pelt rippled. “It’s very dark, and you need to trust StarClan to guide your paws.” She blinked at the three apprentices. “Stay close to your mentors.”
Willowpaw wrapped her tail tight around her forepaws. “What’s the Moonstone like?”
“Are StarClan cats friendly?” Graypaw added. “Even the warriors from other Clans?”
“The Moonstone is beautiful.” Brambleberry sighed. “And StarClan is wise.” Her gaze fixed on Crookedpaw. “Listen carefully to what they tell you,” she warned. “Let them guide your paws onto the right path.”
Crookedpaw swallowed. Why had she singled him out? Did she think his paws were on the wrong path?
“Hurry up.” Brambleberry began to herd them toward the entrance. “You need to get there by moonhigh.”