“I want to go next!” Willowpaw called as he came up for the third time.
Crookedpaw tossed the fresh carp on to the shore. “Dive in with me!”
Willowpaw plunged in and swam down beside him. Her fur clouded around her as she reached the carp pool. She hooked one with her claws and dragged it to her mouth for a killing bite before she turned and began to pull herself up to the surface. Crookedpaw watched, impressed by her grace, before realizing that his lungs were aching. Quickly he ducked down, grabbed a carp, and swam for the surface.
Jeering mews welcomed him back to the air. A patrol of ThunderClan warriors was strutting on the edge of Sunningrocks.
“What’s the difference between a RiverClan warrior and a fish?” one yowled.
“A fish is hard to catch!” his Clanmate answered.
Another warrior, his fur thick and white, leaned over the edge. “Enjoy the river while it’s still yours.”
Willowpaw’s pelt bushed, her eyes blazing. “How dare they?”
Crookedpaw tossed his fish to the shore and bounded on to the stepping-stones. Spitting with rage, he leaped halfway across the river. “Come down here and say that, you worm-ridden fish-brains!”
“We just might!” the white warrior yowled. “Why don’t you run home before we do?”
“Come on then!” Crookedpaw unsheathed his claws. “I’ll rip your ears off!”
“You couldn’t climb down if you tried!” Willowpaw piped up behind him. “The only way ThunderClan can get down from Sunningrocks is to fall down! Go on! Try it! I wouldn’t mind if a few of you broke your flea-bitten necks!”
“Crookedpaw!” Oakheart’s mew made them both jump. “Come here.”
Prickling with frustration, Crookedpaw turned and leaped back to shore.
The ThunderClan warriors yowled with amusement. “Go back to the nursery, Wetkit!”
Crookedpaw growled.
Oakheart was pacing with excitement. “Save it for your next battle,” he meowed. “Hailstar wants everyone back at camp.”
“What for?”
“Come on!” Oakheart charged away.
Willowpaw stared. “What’s going on?”
Crookedpaw shrugged. “Let’s find out!”
They each scooped a carp from the pile they’d made and raced for camp. The fish tail flapped in Crookedpaw’s face as he ran.
He skidded through the sedge tunnel, Willowpaw at his heels. Their Clanmates were already gathered in the clearing. Oakheart stood panting beside Shellheart while Hailstar paced in the middle, tail swishing.
Crookedpaw dropped his fish on the fresh-kill pile beside Willowpaw’s. She’d already slid in beside Graypaw.
Crookedpaw nosed his way between Shellheart and Oakheart. “What’s going on?”
“Listen!” Shellheart silenced him.
Hailstar was mid-speech. “…so on the darkest night of the moon we will reclaim Sunningrocks!”
At last! Oakheart lashed his tail and Shellheart clawed the ground as the whole Clan cheered.
“What if we lose again?” Rippleclaw’s question was almost lost in the noise but he repeated it, louder. “What if we lose again?”
The cheers faltered and faded.
“There will be no battle this time,” Hailstar announced. He looked up at the fat, waxing moon. “Next claw-moon, when it’s no more than a scratch on the sky, we’ll reset the boundaries.”
Timberfur leaned forward. “Won’t ThunderClan just set them back again?”
Worried murmurs rippled through the Clan.
“We’ll keep resetting them until ThunderClan gets the message,” Hailstar answered. “And if it comes to a battle—” The RiverClan leader glanced at Crookedpaw. “We’ll fight it and, this time, we’ll win!”
As the Clan broke into another cheer, Crookedpaw tipped his head to one side. Why had Hailstar looked at him? Didn’t he trust him to fight?
“Yesterday an apprentice saved the life of a Clanmate.” Hailstar silenced the cheers.
Crookedpaw straightened.
Oakheart purred. “I’m guessing he means you.”
Hailstar’s eyes shone. “Crookedpaw.” He beckoned Crookedpaw forward with a flick of his tail. “This apprentice has not yet completed his six moons of warrior training.”
Heart racing, Crookedpaw padded into the clearing. Brambleberry watched him, her eyes dark. Rainflower wrapped her tail tightly over her paws. Beetlenose whispered something in Voleclaw’s ear.
Hailstar padded to meet him. “But I see no point in delaying his warrior ceremony any longer.”
Crookedpaw’s heart jumped. My warrior ceremony!
“I want Crookedpaw to be in the patrol that resets the borders beyond Sunningrocks.” Hailstar paused. “No,” he meowed. “I want Crookedjaw!”
The Clan took up the calclass="underline" “Crookedjaw! Crookedjaw!”
Crookedjaw stared at his leader. Joy fizzed like stars beneath his pelt. “Well done!” Cedarpelt walked forward and touched his muzzle to Crookedjaw’s head.
Crookedjaw detected relief in his mew. “Glad to get rid of me?” he murmured, half-joking.
“It’s hard work teaching a cat who already knows everything,” Cedarpelt answered.
Crookedjaw stepped back. “I’m sorry.” He stared at his paws.
Cedarpelt broke into a purr. “I like to believe I taught you something.”
“You taught me so much!” Crookedjaw insisted.
“And I’m sure you still have plenty to learn.” Shellheart’s voice made Crookedjaw turn. His father was gazing at him proudly.
Oakheart dashed past the RiverClan deputy and wove around Crookedjaw. “We’re warriors together at last! Will you share my den? Whitefang won’t mind. There’s room for an extra nest.”
“Congratulations.” Beetlenose crossed the clearing, tail flicking. “You finally made it.”
Crookedjaw met his gaze. “Now you’ve got more competition than just Oakheart.” As he spoke, he spotted a familiar pelt moving in the shadows by the reeds. Mapleshade was watching, her gaze slitted.
A soft muzzle nudged his shoulder. Willowpaw was purring loudly in his ear. “I’m going to miss sleeping beside you.”
Crookedjaw twined his tail around hers. “Then hurry up and become a warrior!”
Rainflower hadn’t moved. She sat as still as a rock, on the far side of the clearing. Lifting his chin, Crookedjaw squeezed past Oakheart and approached his mother. She didn’t move as he neared, only narrowed her eyes.
“I’m sorry I can’t make you proud of me,” Crookedjaw meowed. “But I haven’t finished yet. I’ll do everything I can to make you glad I’m your son.”
Rainflower stared silently at him. Crookedjaw fought back the hurt tightening his throat. He lifted his chin, refusing to hide his twisted jaw. “You’ll never make me ashamed of who I am or what I look like.” Turning away, he saw Oakheart and Willowpaw staring at him.
Oakheart dashed over and ran the tip of his tail along his brother’s spine. “Good for you, Crookedjaw.” He glanced past Crookedjaw, his gaze hardening as it reached Rainflower. “If our mother can’t be proud of you, it’s her loss.”
“We believe in you.” Willowpaw’s eyes shone at him, reflecting starlight.
Feeling as if the bubble of happiness inside him might explode, Crookedjaw pressed his muzzle to hers and purred.
Chapter 19
A night heron called from the far bank, its wings pulsing as it lifted into the air. Crookedjaw saw the flash of its belly as it flew over the reed bed and disappeared upstream. He’d been listening to the bird fishing—the plop as it dived, the splash as it dragged a fish struggling from the river. He tucked his tail tighter over his paws and gazed around the camp. Sitting vigil on his first night as a warrior, Crookedjaw felt the weight of responsibility for his sleeping Clanmates. He glanced up at Silverpelt. Thank you for helping me to become a warrior. Thank you for helping me to keep my Clan safe.