The pale tabby was racing toward him with Graypaw at her heels. She stopped in front of him, purring loudly. “I thought that dog was going to kill me!” Eyes shining, she rubbed her cheek along his twisted jaw.
Crookedpaw’s pelt pricked, hot with embarrassment. “Th-that’s okay,” he stammered.
Suddenly Oakheart, Hailstar, and the others were crowding around.
“He saved me!” Willowpaw told them.
Her mentor Owlfur was still wide-eyed with shock. “It all happened so quickly,” he explained. “I thought Willowpaw had made it up a tree and then I looked down and there she was…” He trailed off, lost in thoughts of what might have happened.
“I’ve never seen anything braver,” Brightsky cut in. “Crookedpaw actually jumped on its back!”
Fallowtail pushed past her Clanmates and pressed her muzzle against Crookedpaw’s. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I’d die if I lost her again.”
Overwhelmed, Crookedpaw stared at his paws. “Any warrior would have done the same,” he insisted. He stole a look at Hailstar. Surely he’d managed to impress the RiverClan leader this time?
Of course you have. Mapleshade’s mew sounded in his ear. Look what happens when you put your Clan first.
“Are you sure you don’t need more ointment for your paws?” Oakheart mimicked Willowpaw’s mew as he followed Crookedpaw along the shore.
“Shut up.” Crookedpaw fluffed out his pelt, hoping it would cool him down. The newleaf sun was hot.
Oakheart took no notice. “But they must be sooooo sore after chasing that dog and rescuing me.”
Crookedpaw waded into the river, ignoring his brother.
“Graypaw says she’s going to move her nest next to yours,” Oakheart persisted.
Cool water flooded his ears as Crookedpaw dived under the surface. He swam strongly, following the dip of the riverbed, using his tail to balance him against the buffeting current. Eyes open, he could see a fat trout basking on the bottom. With a kick of his hind legs he shot forward, snapping his teeth around the trout and pushing upward toward daylight. He broke the surface with a splash, the trout flapping between his jaws. With a flick of his head, he snapped its spine and the fish drooped instantly.
“Nice catch.” Oakheart was sitting on the shore, washing his face.
Crookedpaw climbed out and dropped the fish beside his brother. “Aren’t you fishing?”
“I thought I’d let you get the best catch first,” Oakheart teased.
Crookedpaw nudged him playfully, unbalancing him. Tumbling on to his side, Oakheart purred, “It’s not really serious between you and Willowpaw, is it?”
“Who said it was?” Crookedpaw stared at him in surprise.
“The whole Clan’s been gossiping since sunhigh,” Oakheart told him.
Crookedpaw snorted. “They’re like a bunch of elders.” He shook out the water from his fur. “Willowpaw’s just a denmate.”
“Nothing more?”
“No!” Willowpaw was nice. And there was something special about her. But it was embarrassing to talk about it. “I just like her as a denmate! That’s not against the warrior code, is it?”
Oakpaw padded into the water. “I guess not.”
Crookedpaw watched his brother dive in and disappear. He frowned. Even if he did like Willowpaw, why would she like him? He had a twisted jaw that made other cats stare. Growling irritably, Crookedpaw dived back into the river. Who cares? Learning to be a great warrior was far more important.
Chapter 18
“Hey, you two!” Cedarpelt called to Crookedpaw and Willowpaw as they padded along the sun-drenched riverbank. “Slow down!”
“You don’t have to keep up with us,” Crookedpaw called over his shoulder. “We know where we’re going and we know how to fish!”
Owlfur sighed. “Let them be.”
“Why did I have to get an apprentice who thinks he knows everything?” Cedarpelt grumbled loud enough for Crookedpaw to hear over the chattering of the river.
Willowpaw brushed against Crookedpaw. “Ignore him,” she whispered.
But Crookedpaw was tired of being treated like a bothersome kit. He trained as hard as any cat and if he argued with Cedarpelt over some of the moves, it was only because Mapleshade had shown him a better way. And she, after all, was a StarClan warrior. “Why do I have to have a mentor who thinks I’m a fish-brain?” he called back.
“Don’t answer him,” Owlfur advised Cedarpelt. “All apprentices think they know everything until they become warriors. He’ll grow out of it.”
Crookedpaw quickened his pace.
“We can’t leave them behind,” Willowpaw fretted.
“Why not?” Crookedpaw was bristling.
Willowpaw looked back. “It’s okay,” she meowed. “They sat down.” She padded into the water. “Let’s fish here.”
“There’s a deep pool in the river just past the stepping-stones,” Crookedpaw told her. “It’ll be full of carp hiding from the sun.”
Willowpaw licked her lips. “Sounds good.”
They padded downstream, side by side.
“Did you hear the news?” Willowpaw mewed.
“What?”
“Shimmerpelt’s moved to the nursery.”
“Shimmerpelt?” Crookedpaw nearly tripped over a stone. “But she agreed to chase the dog!”
Willowpaw twitched her tail. “I know! What if the dog had got her? She swore she didn’t know then. Brambleberry’s furious.”
“I bet Piketooth’s pretty cross.”
“He’d never be cross with Shimmerpelt,” Willowpaw purred. “He still can’t believe a cat like her would look twice at an old snaggletooth like him.” She brushed her muzzle against Crookedpaw’s jaw. “Have you seen Lakeshine’s kits yet?” The gray-and-white queen had kitted in the night.
“What?” Crookedpaw was still lost in her scent.
“Lakeshine’s kits.” Willowpaw nudged him. “Have you seen them?”
Crookedpaw shook his head. “Has she named them yet?”
“Sunkit and Frogkit,” Willowpaw purred. “They’re so cute. She let me wash one.”
Crookedpaw leaped over a shallow pool among the pebbles. “It’s good news for all of us. RiverClan always needs new warriors.”
“They’re still kits!”
“They’ll be warriors soon enough,” Crookedpaw pointed out. “Just like us.”
Willowpaw rolled her eyes. “Is that all you think about?” She bounded ahead and raced along the shore, her paws splashing in and out of the shallows as she veered past clumps of water-mint and mossy rocks.
Crookedpaw chased after her.
“Is this the pool?” Willowpaw leaped over the first stepping-stone, splashing down in the shallows, and pointed her nose to where the water dipped into a smooth, rolling current.
“That’s it.” Crookedpaw waded toward it. “You have to be careful,” he warned. “It sucks you down near the bottom.”
“I’m a strong swimmer,” Willowpaw reassured him.
“I know.” Crookedpaw glanced at her smooth, strong shoulders and purred. “But if it does grab you, don’t fight it. Just go limp. The river will wash you downstream where it’s shallower.”
Willowpaw took a deep breath and plunged in. Crookedpaw watched the broken water close over her and waited. Even though he trusted her skills, he couldn’t help worrying. The thought that anything bad might happen to her made his chest tighten. He was relieved when her ears broke the surface and she popped up holding a juicy carp.
“There’s loads down there!” she mewed happily. “And they’re too dumb to swim away!”
Crookedpaw dived in, feeling the water suck at his fur, pulling him down into the school of carp. He grabbed one, swam up, flung it on to the bank, and dived down for another.