“How are Sedgecreek and Leopardfur?” Crookedpaw called.
“Resting,” Brambleberry reported. “I’ve put ointment on their wounds to stop them getting infected.” She studied Crookedjaw’s matted, bloodstained pelt. “I should treat yours, too.”
“Later,” he growled. “When I’ve sat vigil for Hailstar.”
Brambleberry shook her head. “You have to travel to the Moonstone with me,” she reminded him.
He blinked at her.
“To receive your nine lives.”
Nine lives. He was the leader of RiverClan! The realization hit him like a wave of cold water.
“We should leave now,” Brambleberry prompted. “Mudfur can look after Sedgecreek and Leopardfur.”
Crookedjaw glanced at Echomist. “Will you be okay?”
“I have my Clanmates,” she murmured.
Crookedjaw dipped his head. His pelt burned and he looked up to see Timberfur staring at him. Graypool peered from the nursery, her eyes wide. Frogleap and Loudbelly padded beside the reed bed, splashing through the shallows overflowing the bank. Their pelts were spiked, their ears flat. They were depending on him now. His heart ached. He’d never felt less like a leader. He’d only just become deputy.
He felt Willowbreeze’s warm pelt brush against him. “You should go.” Her gaze flicked toward Brambleberry waiting at the entrance. “You’ll be fine,” Willowbreeze whispered. “Hailstar made the right choice when he chose you as deputy.”
No, he didn’t. Crookedjaw felt sick. Mapleshade decided my destiny—a cat from the Dark Forest! Panic fluttered in his chest. What have I done?
“Let’s go.” Brambleberry’s call from the other side of the clearing was gentle but urgent.
“I’m coming.”
Brambleberry kept a little way ahead as they leaped the stepping-stones and followed the path beside the waterfall. Crossing the WindClan scent line, Crookedjaw caught up to her. He didn’t want her to walk into a WindClan patrol without him at her side. Was she going to say anything about him becoming leader? She had been worried about Hailstar making him deputy; she must be horrified that he was to be RiverClan’s leader. He halted.
Brambleberry turned and stared at him in surprise. The heather swayed around her, touched with a pink glow as the evening sun bled into the pale blue sky. “Are you coming?”
“You have to tell me!” Crookedjaw dug his claws into the peaty earth. “I can’t face StarClan until I know what you know.” A StarClan omen had warned her that he was not to be trusted. If she knew about Mapleshade, so must StarClan. What if they refused to give him his nine lives?
Brambleberry blinked. “What I know?”
“Don’t pretend you’re not worried they won’t make me leader,” Crookedjaw growled. “Or is that what you’re hoping for?”
“Why would I hope for something like that?”
“Because of the omen! The omen that warned you not to trust me. What was it? You’ve hidden it long enough. You have to tell me what you’ve seen!”
Brambleberry’s shoulders drooped. “Yes. Yes, I do. But it’s not what you’re thinking.” She sat down and held his gaze with her sky-colored eyes. “I’ve seen you with her.”
Crookedjaw’s pelt burned. “Do you mean Mapleshade?”
“Is that her name?” Brambleberry’s ears twitched. “I didn’t know. I just knew she was training you in a place that was dark and cold and smelled of death.” Her fur pricked. “I watched you choose to walk with cats who would never be loyal to you or your Clan.”
“I didn’t know she was bad,” Crookedjaw whispered. “I was so dumb. I thought she was a StarClan cat.”
Brambleberry flicked the tip of her tail. “StarClan? You thought that?” Her pelt smoothed. “Now I understand! When it came to your Clanmates, you’ve always been so brave and loyal—so determined to do your best. I couldn’t understand why you were training with that monster.”
“I thought she was on my side.” Crookedjaw looked at his paws. “I wanted to be the best warrior I could be, and she said she’d help me.”
Brambleberry shook her head. “You would always have been a great warrior.”
“How could I have known that?” His mew caught in his throat. “After I broke my jaw, no cat seemed to want me. Everyone treated me like I was useless.”
Brambleberry’s eyes clouded. “We let you down.”
“No!” Crookedjaw shook his head. “The past is over. Everything I love is in RiverClan!”
“But you have walked with a dark warrior.”
“I told her I didn’t want her help anymore.” Crookedjaw flexed his claws. “Is that enough to make StarClan trust me?”
“StarClan sees all.” Brambleberry looked down at her paws for a moment. “Far more than me.” She turned and began to pad through the heather. “They’ll decide for themselves.”
Crookedjaw’s belly churned. What if his warrior ancestors refused to give him his nine lives as punishment for training in the Dark Forest? He trotted after Brambleberry, his wounds aching as they climbed the slope onto the high moor.
Night fell as they followed tiny trails through the heather. The wind whistled around their ears, and Crookedjaw didn’t hear the approaching patrol.
“What are you doing here?” Reedfeather’s eyes blazed on the shadowy path.
“We’re traveling to the Moonstone,” Crookedjaw told him.
Dawnstripe and Talltail flanked the WindClan deputy. Dawnstripe padded forward and pushed past Brambleberry.
Crookedjaw growled. “You must let us pass. I’m going to receive my nine lives.”
Reedfeather’s gaze sharpened, hard as flint. “Hailstar’s dead?” There was no grief in the tabby tom’s mew, but he signaled to his Clanmates with his tail. “Let them pass.” The WindClan patrol stood aside and let Crookedjaw and Brambleberry pass.
Beyond the moors, the Thunderpath was silent. They crossed it and headed along the tracks and paths of Twoleg territory. Beneath the glittering stars, they trekked on. Crookedjaw fought the ache in his wounds, pushing himself on though his legs were shaking with tiredness. They gave Fleck’s farm a wide berth. Crookedjaw had seen enough barns for one day, and they reached Highstones as the moon was still rising.
“We’ve made good time,” Brambleberry panted as they trudged up the slope toward Mothermouth.
Please give me my lives, Crookedjaw prayed as he followed her into the crow-black tunnel. He’d forgotten how cold it was. The icy tang of stone bathed his tongue. Last time he was here Willowpaw had been with him; it had been an adventure. This time he felt older than the moon. Who would be waiting for him at the Moonstone? Cats from StarClan, or cats from the Dark Forest?
“Brambleberry!” He could hear her pads scuffing the stone ahead, but he suddenly needed to hear her voice, to be sure that it was her he was following and not some other cat sent by Mapleshade.
“I’m here.”
Light flared in the tunnel ahead.
“Hurry!” she urged. “The moon’s already lit the stone!”
Heart racing, Crookedjaw dashed after her, blinking against the glare as they burst into the Moonstone chamber. He’d forgotten how high the roof soared above the floor and how beautiful the Moonstone was. It glittered with the light of countless stars.
“Go on, touch your nose against it.” Brambleberry nudged him forward.
Fear gripped his heart. “But who will be waiting for me?”
She blinked at him. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. She ducked away, leaving him alone in the cave.
Padding slowly forward, Crookedjaw closed his eyes. He crouched down and leaned forward till the tip of his muzzle touched the stone. He waited for light to flood through him, to be swept into the stars in a dazzling dream. Please!