“Why’s he hesitating?” Loudbelly growled.
Crookedjaw silenced him with a look. “He’s had eight lives of experience to guide him.” He followed Hailstar beneath the willow and ducked into his den.
“What good is Sunningrocks to us in leaf-bare?” Hailstar was sitting in the shadowy recess at the back of his den. “Sunstar was right; they can find prey there that we can’t reach.”
“Surely that’s all the more reason to keep them from it,” Crookedjaw reasoned.
Hailstar blinked at him. “Do you want to starve another Clan?”
“It would weaken them.”
“If we didn’t have to battle over Sunningrocks, would we care if they were weak or strong?”
“What if we gave them Sunningrocks and they tried to take more territory?”
“Do you really think that’s what Sunstar wants?” Hailstar’s gaze was steady.
Perhaps we should just give them leaf-bare hunting rights there. Crookedjaw remembered what Oakheart had said after the latest border challenge. That’s always when they take it. They must need the prey.
He shrugged. “I guess Sunstar just wants to be able to feed his Clan during leaf-bare.”
Hailstar nodded. “We have the river and the willows,” he pointed out. “They have only the forest.”
Crookedjaw hesitated. “They’ll think they’ve won.” The fur rippled along his spine. He didn’t want any Clan to think RiverClan was weak.
“They’ll think we prefer peace over war,” Hailstar murmured. “Some will see that as a sign of weakness, others will see it as a sign of strength.”
Crookedjaw thought of Rippleclaw and Ottersplash. And Sedgecreek and the other new warriors. How would they see it? He dug his claws into the soft earthen floor of the den. “ThunderClan will think they can change borders any time they like!”
Hailstar’s whiskers twitched. “Isn’t that what we’ve done?”
“That’s different! Sunningrocks is ours! It was given to us by StarClan.”
Hailstar tucked his tail over his paws. “I admire your loyalty,” he meowed. “StarClan chose well in making you deputy.”
Crookedjaw shifted his paws uncomfortably as Hailstar went on.
“You’ll make a great leader.”
The moss twitched at the entrance to the den. Timberfur poked his head through. “Have you decided on a battle plan yet? The Clan is restless.”
Hailstar nodded. As Timberfur ducked out, the RiverClan leader glanced at Crookedjaw. “I want you to tell them.”
“That we’re giving up Sunningrocks?”
Hailstar nodded. “The young warriors are an excitable bunch. You might as well learn how to handle them sooner rather than later.”
Crookedjaw steadied himself with a deep breath. “Okay.” He pushed his way out of the den and padded to the center of the clearing. Hailstar halted beside him.
The Clan grew quiet as Crookedjaw lifted his chin and gazed around the camp. “We won’t be fighting,” he announced. “We’ll let ThunderClan have Sunningrocks till newleaf.”
Mudfur was the first to speak. “Thank StarClan!”
“But we have to fight!” Timberfur growled.
Loudbelly paced around his denmates. “How can we not?”
“We’d beat them!” Owlfur snarled.
“They’ll think we’re weak!” Cedarpelt warned with a flick of his tail.
Reedtail flexed his claws. “We’ll go anyway,” he muttered.
“We can’t let them win,” Sunfish agreed.
“If you won’t defend our territory, we’ll do it for you!” Loudbelly yowled.
Crookedjaw bared his teeth at him. “No patrol will cross the river.” He glared at the bristling young warriors. “If any one of you sets paw on Sunningrocks, you needn’t worry about ThunderClan because I’ll shred you.” He gaze flicked back to Loudbelly. “Got it?”
Loudbelly flattened his ears. “Yes, Crookedjaw,” he muttered.
Crookedjaw snapped his head around to survey the rest of the Clan. Rippleclaw was watching him through narrowed eyes but didn’t speak. Owlfur stared at his paws. Timberfur sheathed his claws. Crookedjaw felt a surge of triumph but pushed it away. These were his Clanmates; he was leading them, not fighting them. “We don’t need Sunningrocks until newleaf,” he told them. “Let ThunderClan scavenge for mice in the cracks. We have the river and as much fish as we can eat.”
Cedarpelt stepped forward. “I can take out a hunting party now if you like,” he offered.
“Thank you.” Crookedjaw dipped his head to his old mentor. “Take Sunfish, Frogleap, and Loudbelly.” It would keep them busy. As the Clan drifted back to its duties, Crookedjaw scanned the camp for Oakheart. His brother still wasn’t back.
“Crookedjaw?” Ottersplash heaved herself out of the water beside the reed bed. Her eyes glittered as she hurried over and leaned close. “Can I speak with you?” She beckoned him toward the sedge wall and crouched beneath the arching fronds. Puzzled, Crookedjaw ducked beside her.
“Have you noticed at the Gatherings if Oakheart is friendly with any of the ThunderClan warriors?” Ottersplash whispered.
Crookedjaw shrugged. “No cat in particular.”
“Not even Bluefur?” Ottersplash glanced at him uneasily.
“He’s spoken to her one or two times.”
Ottersplash frowned.
“Why?” Crookedjaw stiffened.
“While we were escorting the ThunderClan patrol, I saw him…” She floundered.
Crookedjaw leaned forward. “Saw him what?”
“Saw him talking to Bluefur.”
“So?”
“They were alone,” Ottersplash reported. “She dropped back from the patrol and he came from the river. He’d been fishing. He couldn’t have known what they were doing here.”
“That’s probably why he stopped her.” Crookedjaw wondered why Ottersplash was making such a big deal out of it. “He just wanted to know what she was doing on RiverClan territory.”
“Yes.” Ottersplash nodded. “Of course.” She straightened up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have troubled you.”
Crookedjaw ran the tip of his tail over her flank. “No problem,” he meowed. His pelt rippled uneasily. I wonder if she believes what I just said. I’m not sure if I do.
The rain had cleared by the next day. Crookedjaw stretched, yawning in the chilly leaf-fall sunshine. The river slid past, deceptively quiet, as if it was just waiting for the first storm to stir up its surface and make fishing impossible. Beetlenose and Reedtail were hunting downstream. Crookedjaw had brought Oakheart to his favorite pool, hoping there’d be carp. He waited on the bank while Oakheart dived for his first catch.
His brother’s tawny head broke the surface, a fish between his jaws. He hopped onto the bank and dropped it beside Crookedjaw. “Your turn.”
“Are there many down there?”
“Loads.”
Crookedjaw waded into the shallows as Oakheart sniffed his carp. “Oakheart?” Whatever the truth is, I have to know. He kept his tone casual. “Did you see the ThunderClan patrol yesterday while you were out fishing?”
Oakheart flipped the carp over. “I saw Timberfur and Ottersplash escorting them over the stepping-stones.”
Why wouldn’t he mention talking to Bluefur? “And they went quietly?” Crookedjaw prompted.
Oakheart shrugged. “As far as I could tell.”
Was the fur on his spine twitching? Crookedjaw shifted his paws on the stones.
“What’s with all the questions?” Oakheart waded past him. “If you’re not going to catch anything, then I will.” He dived into the water and disappeared.
Crookedjaw narrowed his eyes. Was he worrying for no reason? Perhaps Oakheart didn’t think talking to Bluefur was important enough to mention. Any loyal warrior would have stopped to question an intruder. Besides, he wouldn’t keep secrets from me, would he? Crookedjaw padded to a flat gray rock and lay down to wait for Oakheart’s return. He wasn’t the only cat who was loyal to his Clanmates. There was no way his brother would betray RiverClan.