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Authors: Erin Hunter

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BOOK: Bluestar's Prophecy
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The noise grew as their path seemed to take them straight toward it.

“What’s the
gorge?
” Bluepaw whispered, hardly wanting to know.

“Where the river falls down from the moorland and cuts between two cliffs of rock. The path into WindClan territory runs beside it.”

Oh, StarClan!

Ahead she could see a gap in the trees where the forest floor seemed split in two as though a giant claw had scraped a furrow. Bluepaw unsheathed her claws and gripped the earth with each step, as Pinestar led his Clanmates along a perilous trail at the edge of the gorge. Hardly daring to breathe, she peered over the cliff and saw a torrent of white water, churning and boiling beneath it. She wrenched her gaze away and focused on Moonflower’s familiar pelt, following her paw steps and trying to ignore the sucking water below.

At last the sheer cliffs eased into muddy banks, and the river flowed smoothly, winding unhurriedly between thin trees and low, spiky bushes. The ThunderClan cats fell out
of single file and bunched together, their pelts moving as one, like the shadow of a cloud passing over the land. All around them, dawn washed the moor with soft yellow light. Barren, gorse-specked hills rose in the distance.

Bluepaw tasted the air. RiverClan tang was being replaced by an earthier smell. “Is that where we’re going?”

Stonepelt nodded. “We’ve crossed the border into WindClan territory.” He flicked his tail toward a dip in the land where the billowing bushes gave way to heather as the ground rose and rolled up into moorland.

As the soft grass turned to springy, rough-coated peat, Pinestar turned and signaled with his tail, whipping it across his muzzle. Bluepaw understood that from now on, they must stay silent. She smelled markers so strong that she could taste the musky, peat-tainted stench.

WindClan.

As they climbed the hillside, the grass streamed like water in the wind and Bluepaw pictured again the vole’s fur, flat and splayed. Her breath caught in her throat as the storm howled around them. Her Clanmates seemed suddenly small and frail against the wide moorland that rolled away on every side. Ears flat, they padded onward, disappearing and reappearing among the swaths of quivering heather.

“I stick out like a blossom in a mud puddle,” Snowpaw whispered. She was right. Her white pelt looked strange among the earthy colors of the moorland.

“Hush!” Sparrowpelt hissed back at them, and Snowpaw flattened her ears.

Boulders began to dot the hillside, jutting from the earth like rotten teeth. At the top of the rise, the wind whipped more viciously against Bluepaw’s pelt, and she felt the first sharp drops of rain. Pinestar had halted and was staring into the dip ahead. Bluepaw followed his gaze toward boulders and heather and gorse.

“WindClan’s camp,” Stonepelt breathed into her ear.

Bluepaw blinked.
Where
?

Pinestar was heading toward them. Featherwhisker fell in beside him and beckoned to Swiftbreeze to join them. “You see that rock over there?” the ThunderClan leader meowed, nodding toward a stone sticking out of the earth, nearly as big as Highrock. “That’s where you’ll wait.” His gaze flicked from Bluepaw to Snowpaw. “Do you understand?”

They both nodded.

“Featherwhisker and Swiftbreeze will wait with you.” Pinestar glanced back over his shoulder. “I’ll send a runner if we get into trouble. Follow his orders exactly and without question.”

Blood roared in Bluepaw’s ears, blocking the howling of the wind.

This was it.

The battle was about to begin.

She followed Swiftbreeze, her paws heavy as stones, to the boulder Pinestar had indicated. It was smooth at one end as though it had been rubbed away by the wind, but sharp as fox-teeth at the other.

Snowpaw padded alongside her. “Do you think he’ll send for us?”

Bluepaw shrugged. She wanted to help her Clan but hoped they wouldn’t need help. Perhaps StarClan would give them a bloodless victory.

Featherwhisker padded behind them, his jaws still clasping the bundle of herbs. He dropped them as they reached the jagged shelter of the rock. Bluepaw crouched down, relieved to be out of the battering wind. Then she remembered something.
We didn’t wish good luck to Moonflower
. She hadn’t even
looked
at her! Bluepaw darted from behind the rock, desperate to see her mother’s amber eyes once more, to know that everything would be fine, but the cats had disappeared over the rise.

“Get back here!” Swiftbreeze’s mew was fierce, and Bluepaw felt a tug on her tail.

“I just wanted to say—” Bluepaw tried to defend herself.

“This is a battle,” Swiftbreeze growled. “You follow orders.”

Bluepaw stared at her paws.

Swiftbreeze sighed, her tone softening as she spoke again. “It’s for your own safety and the safety of your Clan.”

They waited wordlessly as the air grew lighter. A bird lifted from the heather and struggled against the wind. Bluepaw glanced at Snowpaw, worried by the darkness that shadowed her sister’s gaze. The WindClan cats would be rising now, stirring from their nests, unaware of the fury about to be unleashed on them. She felt a stab of sympathy for them, but then she remembered Goosefeather’s prophecy. WindClan must be beaten if ThunderClan was to survive. This was a battle that had to be fought.

The thought roused her spirits, and she lifted her chin.
Remembering what she’d learned while gathering moss, she took a few swipes at the air, imagining she was fighting a WindClan warrior.

Snowpaw broke into a purr. “You look like you’re gathering cobwebs!”

“See if you can do better!” Bluepaw challenged.

“Hush!” Swiftbreeze commanded, and Bluepaw sat down guiltily. The tabby-and-white warrior was straining hard to listen above the wind. The rain fell harder, cold and sharp as ice against Bluepaw’s soft pelt. How did WindClan bear to live up there without the shelter of the forest? She wished she were back there now, safe beneath the canopy while the storm raged high in the treetops.

A screech of warning suddenly ripped the air, and the moor seemed to explode with furious yowls and screams that rose above the wind. Bluepaw’s eyes widened as shock pulsed through her. She recognized the aggressive screech of Adderfang and the agonized wail of Dappletail. Looking at Featherwhisker, Bluepaw saw that the medicine cat apprentice had closed his eyes and was muttering to himself; words were tumbling fast from his mouth, whispered too quietly to hear.

Was he praying to StarClan? Bluepaw leaned close, straining to hear.

“Comfrey for bones, cobweb for bleeding, nettle for swelling, thyme for shock…”

He was reciting cures for battle injuries.

Reality hit her like a savage gust of wind. Down there in the
camp, blood was flowing. Warrior fought warrior with claws unsheathed and teeth bared. Bluepaw stared at Snowpaw.

Her littermate’s fur was on end, her ears stretched to hear every sound. “Was that Sparrowpelt?” she breathed as a furious howl carried over the wind.

Another hideous screech came in reply.

Bluepaw began to shake. It sounded like Stonepelt. Was he attacking or trying to defend himself?

Screech after screech rent the stormy air until Bluepaw felt sick from the sound.

“Can’t we do anything?” she pleaded with Swiftbreeze.

“We must wait,” Swiftbreeze answered darkly. The warrior jerked her head around as paws pounded toward them. Bluepaw spun, expecting to see a WindClan patrol skid around the corner. She readied herself to face them, hackles raised.

But it was Robinwing.

“Come quickly!” she hissed. “Leopardpaw’s been wounded!”

Swiftbreeze stiffened, her ears flat. “Leopardpaw?”

“Claw wound,” Robinwing told her. “Bleeding badly. She needs to be taken away, and we can’t spare any of the fighting warriors.”

Swiftbreeze nodded, and her round gaze hardened. “Come with us,” she ordered Bluepaw.

“I should come.” Featherwhisker picked up his herbs.

“No.” Swiftbreeze shook her head. “We can’t risk you being injured.”

“What about me?” Snowpaw offered, eyes shining.

“One apprentice will be enough.” Swiftbreeze flashed Snowpaw a look that she did not argue with. Instead she backed away, dipping her head.

“I’ll wait with Featherwhisker.”

“Stay close,” Swiftbreeze told Bluepaw. She darted from the rock after Robinwing, out into the lashing rain. Bluepaw screwed up her eyes and kept as close to Swiftbreeze’s flank as she could, feeling for her with her whiskers and pelt when the rain blinded her. The grass was slippery beneath her paws, and her tail was whipped up over her back by the wind.

Without warning, Swiftbreeze halted. Bluepaw slithered to a stop beside her. Blinking, she saw the ground drop away in front of her. A steep slope led down to a wall of brambles, much thicker than the gorse leading into ThunderClan’s camp. On the far side of the brambles, the ground flattened out. The scents were much stronger now, and Bluepaw knew that this must be the WindClan camp, its central clearing open to the sky.

Her eyes stretching wide in horror, Bluepaw watched as the battle raged. Screeches and yowls ripped through the howling wind. Blood stained the ground and frothed in red puddles, lathered by the rain. Fur, heavy with flesh, flew in clumps and snagged on the brambles. Bluepaw narrowed her eyes, trying to pick out which cat was which among her Clanmates.

There! Adderfang was thrusting a WindClan cat from him with flailing hind legs, only to be set upon by two more warriors; his claws shone and his teeth were bared. He twisted suddenly to protect his belly, fending off one warrior with a shove of his massive shoulders; but the other clung to him, and Adderfang howled as the warrior’s claws ripped hunks of fur from his pelt. On the other side of the clearing, Sunfall and Sparrowpelt were fighting side by side with their backs to the brambles. They slashed and sliced at the four WindClan cats who came at them in a vicious assault, raking the Thunder warriors’ muzzles, snapping at their legs till the ground around them ran red.

Dappletail screeched as two WindClan cats dived on her, their eyes wild. Her shriek made Stormtail spin around
from where he fought, paw to paw, with a WindClan warrior. He sent his opponent whirling away with a massive swipe and raced to help his Clanmate. Stormtail pushed one warrior away with his shoulder, flipping him to the side, before sinking his teeth into the sodden tabby pelt of the other. The tabby let out an agonized shriek that pierced Bluepaw’s belly. As Stormtail’s eyes blazed and WindClan blood sprayed from his mouth, she reminded herself that her father was just being a brave warrior, defending his Clanmate.

“Come on!” Swiftbreeze’s sharp order shook Bluepaw out of her frozen horror, and she skidded down the slope after her Clanmate and plunged through the tangled bramble wall.

She could feel her muzzle bleeding from the thorns by the time she burst into the clearing after Swiftbreeze and raced to where Leopardpaw lay. A long wound stretched along the apprentice’s flank, showing bright pink flesh beneath her black fur. Swiftbreeze grasped Leopardpaw by the scruff and began to drag her kit across the clearing toward a gap in the brambles. Bluepaw tried to help, nudging Leopardpaw along with her nose, but Leopardpaw kicked out.

“I can walk!” she gasped, twisting and clawing at the ground. Swiftbreeze let her find her paws, but as soon as she let go of her kit’s scruff, Leopardpaw collapsed, her legs too shaky to hold her. Swiftbreeze grabbed her again, and Leopardpaw staggered toward the edge of the clearing. Bluepaw followed, her nose filled with the scent of blood and fear and torn fur.

“ThunderClan brought kits!” A gray-flecked WindClan warrior was staring at Bluepaw.

Bluepaw stopped and growled at the warrior. “I’m
not
a kit!”

The WindClan warrior advanced on her, his eyes gleaming. “Then show me your battle moves, young warrior.”

Fear shot through her. She didn’t know any. She’d been an apprentice for only two sunrises! She fought the urge to back away.
I
was
born
a warrior
! she told herself. But her legs wouldn’t stop trembling as the WindClan cat advanced, his whiskers twitching as he unsheathed his claws.

“Hawkheart!” A voice rang across the clearing.

Bluepaw recognized Heatherstar, the leader of WindClan. She was at the center of the fighting, with fur bristling and blue eyes wide. Her fierce gaze was fixed on the gray-flecked warrior. “Get back to tending the injured like you’re supposed to!” she ordered.

Hawkheart snarled at Bluepaw. “Looks like you’re going to have to wait a little longer for your first battle scar,” he sneered before turning away.

“Bluepaw!” Swiftbreeze was struggling to get Leopardpaw through the narrow gap between the brambles at the edge of the clearing. Bluepaw hurried to help, pushing Leopardpaw from behind as Swiftbreeze guided her up the slope and out of the camp.

“Is Hawkheart a medicine cat or a warrior?” Bluepaw puffed as Leopardpaw limped over the top of the rise.

“He used to be the fiercest warrior in WindClan till
StarClan called him to be medicine cat.” Swiftbreeze had stopped to catch her breath and let Leopardpaw rest while she sniffed at her wound. “It’s just a shallow wound and torn fur,” Swiftbreeze meowed, relief flooding her mew.

Featherwhisker was already bounding across the grass toward them, his pelt slicked by the rain, with Snowpaw at his heels. He dropped his herb bundle and unrolled the leaf wrap, picking out a wad of cobweb with his teeth and stretching it over Leopardpaw’s wound with careful claws.

Bluepaw glanced back at the battle still raging below. From the top of the rise she could see the whole of the clearing. Stormtail and Dappletail were fighting side by side now. Smallear and Robinwing had joined up as well, lashing out with their paws in perfect time with each other. Were the WindClan cats so ferocious that ThunderClan warriors couldn’t face them alone?

Where was Moonflower?

Bluepaw’s blood chilled. She hadn’t seen her mother—not even once.

“Hawkheart!” A WindClan voice rose from one edge of the clearing. “There are ThunderClan cats in your den!”

Snowpaw stretched up to see better over the bramble wall. “They’ve managed to get to the medicine supplies!” she mewed triumphantly.

“Be quiet and hold this!” Featherwhisker ordered, pressing the apprentice’s white front paw down on one end of the cobweb.

While her sister helped pad Leopardpaw’s wound, Bluepaw
gazed down at the clearing. Her fur felt cold and prickly: Something was wrong. Hawkheart was already streaking away from the WindClan tabby he’d been tending to. He was heading for a tunnel where the earth dipped away between the brambles.
That must be the medicine cat’s den
. Two WindClan warriors were heading inside, disappearing with a flick of their tails. Hawkheart skidded to a halt at the opening and crouched down, his eyes narrowing and his tail thrashing back and forth.

Featherwhisker finished smoothing the cobweb along Leopardpaw’s wound. “Help me guide her back to the rock,” he told Snowpaw. “It’s more sheltered there, and we’ll need help to get her back to the camp.”

Snowpaw began to ease Leopardpaw to her paws and nudge her away from the edge of the hollow, but Bluepaw couldn’t move. She stared at Hawkheart, unable to swallow.

A screech rang from inside the den and Stonepelt hurtled out, blood pumping from a gash in his shoulder and a WindClan warrior slashing at his tail. Then came Moonflower, pursued by another warrior; her gray fur was streaked and specked with torn herbs.

Bluepaw froze.

As Moonflower exploded from the den, Hawkheart lunged at her and snatched her up with his powerful front paws, then flung her like prey across the clearing. Bluepaw saw the shock on her mother’s face as she landed hard and struggled to find her feet. But she wasn’t fast enough. Hawkheart pounced on her, ripping with his teeth and claws.

No! Stop!

Where was Stormtail? Bluepaw looked around frantically, her head whipping from side to side. Surely he’d rescue Moonflower as he had rescued Dappletail? But the gray warrior was still fighting at the younger cat’s side, beating off WindClan warrior after WindClan warrior.

Moonflower was on her own.

Bluepaw gasped as her mother wrenched herself from Hawkheart and landed a searing blow on his muzzle. But the medicine cat didn’t even stumble. Instead he lunged again and, grabbing Moonflower by the throat, sent her skidding across the blood-slicked clearing.

“Noooooooo!” Bluepaw wailed. She sprang forward, about to plunge down the slope, but Swiftbreeze’s teeth sunk into her tail and dragged her back.

“Don’t go down there!” Swiftbreeze warned through clenched jaws.

“But Moonflower’s hurt!” Bluepaw stared at her mother, not moving, on the wet ground, rain washing her pelt.

“She’s just dazed,” Swiftbreeze meowed. “She’ll get up in a moment.”

“She doesn’t
have
a moment!”

Below them, Hawkheart was padding toward Moonflower with his lips curled in a snarl.

“We must help her!” Bluepaw was breathless with panic as she tried to struggle out of Swiftbreeze’s grip.

Suddenly Pinestar’s call rose above the screeching of battle.

“ThunderClan! Retreat!”

Thank StarClan!

Relief flooded Bluepaw as Hawkheart stopped in his tracks and the other warriors stopped fighting and sat back on their haunches, staring at the ThunderClan leader. Silence fell like night over the camp, except for the pounding of the rain and wind whistling across the moor.

Heatherstar shook the rain from her whiskers and padded slowly toward Pinestar. The ThunderClan leader’s ear was torn, and blood streaked his fox-colored pelt. He met Heatherstar’s blue glare with a hollow gaze and seemed to flinch as she spoke.

“This attack was unjust,” she spat. “StarClan would never have let you win.”

Pinestar didn’t reply.

“Take your wounded and leave.” Heatherstar’s growl was edged with sneering contempt.

Pinestar blinked, then dipped his head.

The ThunderClan warriors began to head for the camp entrance, tails down, heads bowed. Robinwing was limping badly and Sunfall, bleeding from his cheek, pressed against her to help her walk. Smallear struggled to his paws, flanks heaving, and weaved uncertainly across the clearing until Sparrowpelt hurried to guide him. Stonepelt licked at a gash in his shoulder before limping toward the entrance. Adderfang’s eyes gleamed with rage and he ignored the hisses of the WindClan warriors as he stalked past them. Dappletail leaned against Stormtail’s broad shoulders, with trickles of blood washing down around her eyes.

Bluepaw stared at her mother, waiting for her to get to her paws.

“I have to help Moonflower.” She ripped herself away from Swiftbreeze. Terror was rising in her chest. She wasn’t going to let Hawkheart touch her again! She tore down the slope, pushing past dazed WindClan cats. She tried not to wince as her paws splashed through the blood-soaked puddles.

“Bluepaw! Wait!” Swiftbreeze was chasing after, her mew pleading as Bluepaw skidded to a halt beside her mother.

Moonflower’s eyes were half-open.

Thank StarClan!

“Moonflower! Moonflower!” Bluepaw nudged her mother with her nose, waiting for her limp body to push back. But Moonflower only flopped backward.

Bluepaw stared desperately into her mother’s eyes. “It’s me, Bluepaw!” She hoped to see them flash with recognition, but they were dull, filled with the clouds that scudded across the sky.

“Bluepaw.” Pinestar’s soft mew sounded over her shoulder. She spun around and looked up at him.

“Why won’t she get up?” Bluepaw wailed.

Pinestar shook his head. “She’s dead, Bluepaw.”

“She can’t be!” Bluepaw twisted back to her mother, pressing her paws to her flanks and shaking her. “She can’t be dead. We were fighting warriors, not rogues or loners. Warriors don’t kill without reason!”

Hawkheart growled and Bluepaw looked up to see the WindClan medicine cat crouching a tail-length away.

“She tried to destroy our medicine supply,” he snarled. “That was reason enough.”

“But StarClan
told
us to do it!” Bluepaw stared at Pinestar in desperation. “We had no choice.” She searched Pinestar’s gaze. “They told us to, didn’t they? Goosefeather said so.”

Hawkheart snorted and got to his paws. “You risked so much on the word of Goosefeather?” With a flick of his tail, he turned and stalked away.

“What does he mean?” Bluepaw whispered. Had all this been for nothing? Moonflower couldn’t be dead. The young apprentice began nudging her again with her muzzle. “Wake up!” she begged. “It was all a mistake. You don’t have to be dead.”

She felt Swiftbreeze’s gentle paw pull her back as Pinestar padded forward and grasped Moonflower by the scruff. In silence, the ThunderClan leader dragged his dead Clanmate across the muddy clearing. Bluepaw broke away from Swiftbreeze and ran along beside, pressing her muzzle into her mother’s sodden fur. She still smelled like Moonflower, of softness and the nursery.
Come back! You were going to take us into the wood to get moss for our nests! You promised!

“Moonflower?” Snowpaw’s frightened mew sounded from the top of the slope as they emerged from the brambles. The white apprentice half ran, half slid down the slope and began to lap at Moonflower’s pelt.

“Is she badly hurt?” she asked between licks. “Featherwhisker’s tending to Smallear. Should I call him?”

Bluepaw stared blankly at her sister. “She’s dead,” she whispered.

“No!” Snowpaw’s wail ended in a whimper as her paws crumpled beneath her. As Pinestar trudged up the slope, still carrying Moonflower, Bluepaw dropped to her belly and buried her nose in her sister’s white fur.

BOOK: Bluestar's Prophecy
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