“Crookedjaw.” Hailstar touched Crookedjaw’s shoulders with his tail-tip. “From this day forward you will be RiverClan’s deputy. StarClan has given you its blessing, and I pray you live up to its hopes and to ours.”
Crookedjaw glanced at Brambleberry, sitting in shadow outside her den. She was staring at her paws.
Hailstar’s eyes darkened. “I am on my ninth life. You are young to be so close to leadership. I pray that StarClan gives you all the strength and wisdom you’ll need in the coming moons.”
“Crookedjaw! Crookedjaw!” He heard warmth in his Clanmate’s cheers, in Oakheart’s above all. There was no hint of jealousy, nothing but pride. Willowbreeze watched him from the edge of the clearing, her eyes reflecting the wide, starry sky. Breathing deeply, Crookedjaw tasted the scents of the river and the reeds and the willows. These were all his now, more than ever before. Straightening his back he looked up at the stars. Thank you, StarClan. I promise I won’t let you down.
The long day had left Crookedjaw bone-tired. After the ceremony, his Clanmates had crowded around him, sharing tongues until the moon rose high in the sky.
“Should we build you a bigger den now?” Petaldust called as Crookedjaw padded wearily to his nest.
Oakheart swallowed the last of his meal and licked his lips. “Perhaps I should line your nest with swan feathers?” he teased.
Crookedjaw purred with amusement, but he was relieved to creep into the darkness of his den and curl into his nest beside Willowbreeze.
“Good night,” he murmured as Willowbreeze snuggled in. He closed his eyes. He was jerked awake almost at once by a paw jabbing his side.
“Mapleshade?” He staggered to his feet.
The orange-and-white cat paced across the gloomy clearing, sending mist swirling as she lashed her tail. “See?” Her eyes glowed with triumph. “I told you I’d keep my promise! You didn’t let the death of your mother distract you from your loyalty to the Clan. You chose to save your Clanmates over her! And now you’re deputy.”
Crookedjaw narrowed his eyes. I didn’t choose anything. His mother’s death had nothing to do with him becoming deputy. He opened his mouth to argue but Mapleshade was too busy crowing.
“I told you I’d reward you! Never underestimate my power!”
“So, you did leave the omen?”
She didn’t answer. “Come on! There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Rainflower? His heart pricked with excitement. She’d be here now, in StarClan’s hunting grounds. He raced after Mapleshade as she headed into the mist. She led him to another clearing, little more than a gap between the slimy gray trees.
“Where is she?”
“She?” Mapleshade snorted. “What are you talking about?” She nodded toward two toms who were emerging from the withered ferns on the far side of the space. Crookedjaw recognized one of them at once.
Thistleclaw!
The ThunderClan warrior stopped beside his mentor—the same ragged, pale gray tabby who’d been training him last time—and stared at Crookedjaw.
“Is this him?” the ragged tom grunted.
“Just get on with your training session, Silverhawk,” Mapleshade ordered.
Crookedjaw darted in front of her. “Why are they here?”
She snorted. “To help you learn, of course!” She whipped her tail across his ears. “Watch!”
Silverhawk crouched, growling at Thistleclaw. Thistleclaw stretched his claws and hissed. They circled each other, eyes like slits. Suddenly Silverhawk darted forward. Thistleclaw ducked away from his mentor’s jaws and Silverhawk’s teeth snapped at thin air.
“Did you think you’d get me that easily?” Thistleclaw hissed.
Silverhawk crouched lower. “Say that again.”
“Did you think—”
Before Thistleclaw could finish, Silverhawk leaped on him and dug his claws deep into Thistleclaw’s shoulders. Crookedjaw gasped when he saw the blood welling up in the spiky gray-and-white fur. Thistleclaw yowled, scrabbling at the ground, trying to get a grip, but Silverhawk heaved him on to his back and kicked his churning hind paws away. Crookedjaw’s breath stopped in his throat as Silverhawk lunged for Thistleclaw’s neck. Opening his jaws wide, he gripped his apprentice’s throat in his teeth.
No! He was going to give a killing bite. Crookedjaw started to rush forward, but Mapleshade knocked him back with a vicious blow.
“Wait,” she growled.
Silverhawk let go of Thistleclaw
The ThunderClan warrior leaped to his paws, ignoring the drops of blood that flew off his pelt. “Let me try that on you!” he begged. “I think I know what to do now.”
Crookedjaw stared in horror. “You’re teaching him how to kill? But that’s against the warrior code!”
Thistleclaw’s gaze flashed at him. Contempt lit his eyes. “If you want to be more than just a warrior,” he snarled, “you have to be prepared to look beyond the warrior code!”
Silverhawk padded closer. “Victory is everything,” he hissed. “There’s no glory in surrender.”
Thistleclaw tipped his head to one side. “Do you want me to show you how the killing bite’s done?”
Crookedjaw recoiled. “No!”
“No?” Thistleclaw narrowed his eyes. “What do mean, no? Why wouldn’t you want to learn such a powerful move?” He looked puzzled.
Crookedjaw took two steps back. The fur along his spine was standing on end. “I didn’t know StarClan was like this!”
“StarClan?” Thistleclaw blinked. “You mouse-brain! This isn’t StarClan! Those smug, toothless fools won’t teach you anything as useful as this.”
“This isn’t StarClan?” Crookedjaw’s mind whirled. “Then… where am I?”
Silverhawk pushed past Thistleclaw. “This is the Dark Forest,” he snarled. “This is where you go if StarClan won’t take you.”
Crookedjaw whipped around. Trees loomed over him on every side, mist swirled, and the shadows moved as though they were alive. Voices sounded from the darkness, cries and whispers that he didn’t understand. Breathing fast, the blood roaring in his ears, he turned back and stared at the three warriors. Their eyes were fixed on him, glittering with menace. Crookedjaw stiffened, rage giving him courage. “You lied to me!” he spat at Mapleshade.
“I never told you this was StarClan,” she meowed smoothly. She took a step toward him. “Why are you so angry? You’re the deputy of RiverClan. You have everything you want. And you got it because I trained you and encouraged you. I did more for you than your own mother.”
“Shut up!” Crookedjaw unsheathed his claws.
Mapleshade circled him, pelt smooth, tail swishing behind her. “Your mother never sent an omen telling your Clan to make you deputy, did she?”
“So it was you!”
“Of course it was me!” Mapleshade’s mew sharpened. “Do you think Hailstar would make you deputy without an omen? You’ve never even won a fight!”
Thistleclaw hissed. “He’s deputy already?” He glared at Silverhawk. “Are you going to do the same for me?”
Silverhawk clouted his apprentice with a lightning-swift forepaw, sending him staggering back. As Thistleclaw struggled to keep his balance, Silverhawk thrust his muzzle in his face. “You still have much to learn!” he spat. “Your time will come when I say so, apprentice!”
Crookedjaw shook his head. “I don’t want to learn how to kill,” he whispered.
Mapleshade’s gaze blazed on his fur. “But you promised to do as I say,” she reminded him softly. “You promised to sacrifice everything to be the greatest warrior in RiverClan.”