Petaldust stared across the river into ThunderClan’s forest. “I wonder why they never catch fish like us?”
Mudfur shrugged. “They’re scared of water. They’d drown if they fell in.”
Oakheart tasted the air. “No fresh markers on their border.” He leaned forward. “I wonder where they are today? There’s usually a warrior or two yowling at us while we’re fishing.”
Crookedjaw’s dream flashed back to him. “They’re probably mourning Snowfur.”
Oakheart snapped his head around, eyes glittering. “What?”
Crookedjaw shrank beneath his pelt. Fish-brain! How am I going to explain this?
“Are you sure?” Petaldust blinked.
Crookedjaw’s thoughts whirled.
Mudfur sniffed his carp absently. “Who told you?”
“I—I heard a border patrol the other day when I was guarding Sunningrocks,” Crookedjaw stammered.
Oakheart tipped his head. “Why didn’t you mention it?”
Crookedjaw glanced at Mudfur. “It—it seemed too sad.” There was at least truth in that.
Petaldust padded along the outcrop and joined them on the stone. “How did she die?”
Crookedjaw glanced at his paws. “On the Thunderpath, I think.”
“The Thunderpath?” Oakheart echoed.
Crookedjaw looked up. His brother’s thoughts seemed to have drifted into the forest. “It’s okay,” he reassured him. “There’s no Thunderpath on our territory.”
Oakheart watched a fallen leaf swirling downriver. “I’m sorry for Bluefur,” he murmured. “She must be so sad.”
Crookedjaw sighed. “Yeah.” He picked up his fish in his jaws and clambered over the rocks. Beckoning the patrol with his tail, he headed toward the camp.
Fourtrees was lit by a cold white moon. Crookedjaw gazed up through the rattling leaves. Silverpelt stretched across the night sky. Which one is Snowfur? It had been a quarter moon since his dream and Crookedjaw was surprised to see that Bluefur had come to the Gathering.
“I hear fishing is still good.” Hollyflower’s mew snapped him back to the conversation. He’d been sharing news with a group of mixed Clan warriors.
“Yes.”
Foxheart shivered. “It’s bad enough getting wet, but in this weather?”
“I guess.” Goldenflower, ThunderClan’s newest warrior, didn’t seem to be listening. She was staring across the clearing, her eyes dark. Crookedjaw followed her gaze. She was watching Bluefur. The gray warrior was talking to Oakheart. He must be offering his sympathies.
Goldenflower stood up. “I’ll just make sure Bluefur’s okay.” She weaved through the gathered cats.
“Crookedjaw!” Hailstar was approaching. “Where’s Oakheart? I want him to tell the Gathering about the pelt-dens. Some of his tactics are worth sharing. The Twolegs may start building dens on the other Clans’ territory.” He dipped his head to Hollyflower. “Pray StarClan they don’t.”
Oakheart’s going to address the Gathering? Crookedjaw felt a flash of worry. Was Hailstar grooming his brother to be RiverClan’s next deputy? “He’s over there.” He flicked his tail toward Oakheart.
“Thanks.” Hailstar padded away. “I’d better warn him.”
As the leaders made their reports, Crookedjaw huddled among his Clanmates. He hunched his shoulders against the cold night air, studying Oakheart through narrowed eyes. As his brother waited calmly at the foot of the Great Rock, Crookedjaw swallowed back jealousy.
“RiverClan, too, has enjoyed plenty of fresh-kill recently.” Hailstar began his report. “The river has been full of fish and its banks stocked with prey.” The RiverClan leader glanced down at Oakheart. “Only one cloud has darkened our horizon.” He beckoned with a nod. “Oakheart has more information.”
Murmurs of surprise rippled around the Clans as Oakheart bounded onto the Great Rock.
“The Great Rock’s for leaders,” growled a ShadowClan warrior. “Not junior warriors!”
Crookedjaw stuck out his chin, suddenly defensive of his brother. “Listen to him!” he snarled. “He has important news to share.”
The ShadowClan warrior’s claws scraped the frosty earth. Crookedjaw flexed his own. No one criticized Oakheart!
“I am sorry,” Oakheart began, his voice carrying clearly across the hollow. “I do not belong here, but with so many cats I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to hear me from down there.” He nodded to the shadowy base of the rock. “I hope you will forgive my boldness. I do not mean to offend.” Crookedjaw felt a glow of pride as the murmuring ceased. The cats were pricking their ears and raising their muzzles, eager to hear what Oakheart was about to share. He glanced around, basking in his brother’s success. Then he spotted Bluefur, ruffled and scowling. Beside her, a pretty Clanmate was staring at Oakheart, her eyes shining as though she were watching a StarClan warrior speak.
He did look like a leader up there among the other cats. Crookedjaw shifted his paws, worry rushing back. But I’m the one with the great destiny!
The journey home seemed to take much longer than usual.
Petaldust was bouncing around Oakheart. “Everyone was listening to you!” Her eyes shone. “Weren’t you scared?”
Voleclaw snorted. “What was there to be scared of?” he muttered. “There’s a truce.”
“But he had to speak to so many cats!” Petaldust shuddered. “I’d hate it.”
Crookedjaw slowed his pace, falling behind his Clanmates as they crossed the tree line into ThunderClan forest. He didn’t want to hear how great Oakheart had been.
A pelt brushed beside him.
Brambleberry.
“You wish it had been you on the Great Rock,” she murmured.
Crookedjaw bristled. “No, I don’t!”
She snorted. “Don’t worry. It’ll be your turn soon enough and there’s plenty to keep you busy until then.” There was an edge in her mew.
“How do you know?” Crookedjaw narrowed his eyes. “Have you had another omen?” Why did he bother asking? Even if she had, he wouldn’t tell him what it was. But curiosity kept pricking, sharper and sharper. Brambleberry was silent as a fish. There was clearly something on her mind.
“How do you know it’ll be my turn soon?” Crookedjaw repeated.
Brambleberry jumped onto a fallen tree that blocked the trail. She paused on top and stared down at him. “Nothing’s for certain.” Her eyes were darker than the shadows surrounding her. “The power is within you to be a fine warrior.” She slid down the other side and Crookedjaw followed, heart quickening. She went on as he fell in beside her. “Every cat knows that you’re going to be great, just from watching you.” Her gaze flashed up through the overlapping branches. “The stars don’t have to decide everything for us.”
Really? Crookedjaw flexed his claws. Brambleberry knew nothing! Then why am I being trained by StarClan?
Chapter 28
Fine snow drifted down from a wide gray sky and settled on the camp. Crookedjaw winced. His twisted jaw was aching with cold. But he didn’t care. Excitement sparked in his pelt. He sat with his Clanmates, lining the edge of the clearing, pelts dusty with snow as Hailstar called forward the next apprentice. Crookedjaw swished his tail.
“Sedgekit.” The RiverClan leader beckoned the brown tabby she-kit forward with a nod. Blackpaw, Skypaw, Loudpaw, and Reedpaw fidgeted behind him, eyes shining, their apprentice names still fresh on the tongues of their Clanmates. Hailstar’s decision to wait until Leopardkit had reached six moons before he made any new apprentices had been welcomed by the Clan. The young cats had been born so close together that they’d formed a strong bond.