“How can you be so sure?” Her eyes glittered with worry.
She really cares! “I’m sorry I scared you,” he meowed softly. “But you don’t have to worry about me.”
“I worry every moment you’re out of my sight,” Willowbreeze confessed.
Crookedjaw touched his nose to her cheek. She was trembling. “Please don’t,” he begged. “I’ll be fine.”
“Stop saying that!” She circled him, bristling. “You don’t know that for sure!”
Crookedjaw blocked her path. He wondered for a moment whether to tell her about Mapleshade and his destiny. No. She’ll think I’m crazy. Why tell her when he could just show her by becoming the greatest leader any Clan had ever known?
“You’re right.” He pressed against her flank. “I don’t know for sure. But I’m so happy just being with you, it feels like nothing can hurt me.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he promised. “Everything will be fine. I love you.” She softened against him. “We’ll have a great life together,” he murmured. “Surrounded by our Clanmates.” He pulled away and looked deep into her eyes. “And our kits.”
A purr rumbled in her throat. “I love you, Crookedjaw.” She touched her muzzle to his ear. Her warm breath made him weak.
Suddenly a cold breeze lifted his fur. For a moment, Mapleshade’s scent drifted in the air and her voice echoed around him. Don’t forget your promise!
Crookedjaw closed his eyes and let the soft scent of Willowbreeze bathe him. Mapleshade was wrong. Having a mate wouldn’t stop him from being a great leader. Hailstar had Echomist, and their kits Petaldust, Beetlenose, and Voleclaw. It didn’t distract him from his loyalty to the Clan or his readiness for battle.
“What’s that?” Willowbreeze jerked away, ears pricking.
A dog was yapping upstream. Hisses and yowls exploded nearby. It sounded like it had encountered a patrol.
“I’ll go and help!” Crookedjaw raced down the slope.
“Be careful!” Willowbreeze called after him.
Diving through the hawthorns, Crookedjaw spotted Whitefang and Petaldust at full pelt, chasing a small white dog. He charged after them. “Steer it past the camp!” he yowled.
Whitefang veered away, outflanking the dog and driving it onward, away from the camp entrance. They chased it up the slope and around the top of the camp. Crookedjaw’s heart thudded with excitement as he whipped around bushes and ducked under branches, keeping the dog in sight. Ahead, Whitefang and Petaldust matched each other step for step, steering it toward the marsh. As they broke from the trees the dog glanced over its shoulder. Its eyes gleamed white around the edges. It was terrified. Pounding the earth with desperate paws, it fled past the beech copse and hurtled into the long grass.
“Keep going!” Crookedjaw called.
Whitefang leaped over a clump of sedge as Petaldust swerved around it. The ground flashed beneath Crookedjaw’s paws as he hared after them. They crossed the marsh and drove the dog down onto the shore. Petaldust splashed into the shallows, keeping pace with the dog as it hurtled forward, sending stones cracking from under her paws. Whitefang pelted along the bank, hissing every time the dog tried to swerve up onto the grass.
Crookedjaw stayed at the rear, blocking the dog with a snarl if it tried to turn. “Twoleg!” he warned, spotting a figure on the bridge. He pulled up, pebbles clattering beneath his feet.
Whitefang and Petaldust slewed to a halt as the dog flung itself on to the bridge and bounded around the Twoleg, yapping with relief.
Crookedjaw circled his Clanmates as they flopped down on the shore. “Nice chase,” he puffed.
“Thanks.” Petaldust clambered to her paws once she had caught her breath.
Whitefang lifted his head. “We’d better carry on with our patrol.” He stood up and shook out his pelt.
“Where’s Oakheart?” Crookedjaw suddenly realized his brother was missing.
“Didn’t you see him?” Petaldust blinked at him in surprise. “He was heading your way. He thought he saw ThunderClan warriors on the shore below Sunningrocks. He went to investigate.”
Crookedjaw frowned. “Alone?”
“That’s what he wanted.” Whitefang shrugged. “He told us to check the Twoleg field and that he’d catch up.”
“I’ll check on him.” Crookedjaw flattened his ears. It was risky to check for intruders single-pawed. What was his brother thinking?
He found Oakheart near the alders, emerging from long grass. “What are you doing here?”
Oakheart looked startled. His pelt was wet.
“Are you okay?” Crookedjaw meowed. “Whitefang said you saw cats from ThunderClan.”
“Just one warrior.” Oakheart’s voice was casual as he padded past, heading for the camp. “I chased her off.”
Crookedjaw picked up a trace of familiar scent on his brother’s pelt. “Was it Bluefur?”
Oakheart whipped around. “How did you know?”
“I recognized her scent.” Crookedjaw searched Oakheart’s gaze. Was he hiding something? Was Bluefur causing trouble? “Did you fight? Did she beat you?” He remembered with a shudder what a fierce opponent Bluefur could be.
Oakheart turned toward camp. “I drove her back into the forest.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t much of a fight. Nothing worth mentioning. Why start a battle over something so small?”
Crookedjaw watched his brother pad away. “What about your patrol? They chased a dog as far as the bridge. They’re waiting for you.”
Oakheart paused. “The patrol!” He swerved to head upriver.
Crookedjaw tipped his head on one side. It wasn’t like Oakheart to be so reserved, especially about an encounter with another Clan. Perhaps the fight had been tougher than he wanted to admit. But he didn’t seem to have any injuries.
Crookedjaw shrugged. Oakheart was a great warrior. He’d be fine. He tasted the air, wondering if Willowbreeze was still near or if she’d given up waiting for him and returned to camp. He wanted to spend as much time with her as he could.
Chapter 27
“Mapleshade!”
Dreaming, Crookedjaw raced through the forest. Dark earth sprayed behind him as he barged through the tangled undergrowth.
“Mapleshade?”
Where is she? He had so much to ask her. Questions that had been churning in his belly for days, nagging and nagging till he had to have answers. Why had she put Willowbreeze’s life at risk? Why had she clawed him for saving a Clanmate? What about his destiny? When was he going to get his first apprentice? How long till he became deputy? Would he follow Hailstar? Or Shellheart?
Shellheart?
Crookedjaw stumbled to a halt. Who, if he became leader, would have to die over and over before Crookedjaw took his place? Crookedjaw felt sick. It was bad enough waiting for Hailstar to lose his last life. He didn’t want to count off his own father’s deaths while he waited for his destiny to come true.
“Higher!”
A sharp growl sliced through the mist.
“Faster! Do you want to die at the paws of a common warrior?”
Crookedjaw heard a grunt and the thud of hard muscle hitting earth. Did Mapleshade have another pupil? He crept forward, ears pricked. Ducking behind a thornbush, he saw two shapes moving in a narrow clearing. As the mist swirled away, two pelts showed: one ragged, one sleek.
The ragged mentor wasn’t Mapleshade. It was a cat he’d never seen before. But who was the sleek tom? Crookedjaw searched his memory. There was something familiar in the wide, muscled shoulders and the dark tabby pelt.
“Do it again!” the ragged cat snarled. “Do it better!”
The sleek tom took a short run up and leaped, higher than Crookedjaw had seen any cat jump. With a flick of his tail, he twisted in the air, kicking out his hind legs, claws splayed while he punched the air with his forepaw. He hit the ground with a thump, landing on his side. Crookedjaw felt the jolt, gasping as though the breath had been knocked from him instead of from the tom.