Crookedstar's Promise

by Erin Hunter

  Ottersplash padded forward, her kits trotting after her. “But what if they learned to swim?” She shooed them away with her tail. “It’d give them prey all year round. As long as they control that stretch of river, there’s a chance they may learn to use it like we do.”

  Troutclaw snorted. “ThunderClan is more likely to learn how to fly!”

  Birdsong nodded. “RiverClan has never owned that piece of territory!”

  “Patrolling it would be hard work,” Fallowtail added.

  Timberfur lashed his tail. “Are you scared of hard work?”

  Fallowtail flattened her ears. “Of course not!”

  “It would show ThunderClan we’re strong,” Whitefang put in.

  “They wouldn’t try taking Sunningrocks again,” Piketooth growled. “They’d be too busy trying to hold on to what’s left of their forest.”

  “Then it’s decided.” Hailstar flexed his claws.

  Whitefang circled the RiverClan leader, pelt bristling. “When do we attack?”

  “Now!”

  Crookedjaw stared at Hailstar in astonishment. Whitefang’s gaze shone with excitement. Rippleclaw’s, too. Timberfur clawed at the ground impatiently. But Cedarpelt watched through narrowed eyes. Fallowtail was frowning and Owlfur turned his head away, sighing.

  Why isn’t he satisfied with Sunningrocks? Crookedjaw didn’t understand Hailstar’s plan. How in the name of StarClan could they win a battle fought on ThunderClan’s land? He’d seen the thick ferns and clawing brambles that choked the trees around Sunningrocks. His thick pelt rippled as he imagined getting it tangled in a thornbush.

  Oakheart’s mew shook him from his thoughts. “Does Hailstar think a battle will cheer us up?”

  “I guess he’s got to try something.” Crookedjaw shrugged. “Even the kits have been worried about Brightsky’s death.” Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ottersplash whispering to her kits. “But a battle is risky and we don’t need more grief.”

  “I want to be in the attack patrol.” Ottersplash’s mew rang across the clearing.

  Shimmerpelt gasped. “What about your kits?”

  “Will you look after them till I return?” Ottersplash dipped her head to her denmate.

  “O-of course,” Shimmerpelt stuttered. “But what if you—”

  Ottersplash cut her off. “Timberfur takes that risk,” she answered sharply. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  Hailstar padded across the clearing. “I’d be proud to have you fight beside me.” His eyes glowed as he surveyed the rest of his Clan. “Timberfur, Rippleclaw, Shellheart, Piketooth, and Whitefang.” He nodded to each warrior. “You’ll join us.”

  For once, Crookedjaw was relieved he hadn’t been chosen. “An impressive patrol,” he commented.

  Oakheart sniffed. “They believe in this battle.”

  “At least someone does,” Crookedjaw growled under his breath. He felt a flash of guilt. “Can I lead a border patrol on this side of the river?” he called to Hailstar. “We haven’t checked the bridge or fence in days.”

  Hailstar was already leading his Clanmates toward the reeds. He glanced back. “Okay,” he answered. “Take anyone you like.”

  Loudkit was chasing after Ottersplash. “When are you coming back?” he whimpered.

  She stopped and leaned down. “I told you,” she murmured softly. “I’ll be back before sunhigh.”

  “Promise?”

  Ottersplash pressed her muzzle to Loudkit’s head. “StarClan willing,” she breathed.

  Loudkit stared after her as Ottersplash followed the patrol out of camp. “Will StarClan want her like they wanted Brightsky?” he whispered.

  Crookedjaw opened his mouth to reassure him, but Shimmerpelt had already darted forward and was sweeping him away with a soft swish of her tail.

  Crookedjaw skirted the Twoleg bridge and headed away from the river, into a line of willow trees. He glanced over his shoulder. Voleclaw, Oakheart, Petaldust, Willowbreeze, and Graypool were following him through the straggly grass, ducking behind the slim gray trunks at the edge of the meadow.

  “I don’t see why we couldn’t hunt,” Voleclaw grumbled.

  “We’re patrolling, not hunting,” Crookedjaw told him.

  “Just because you suggested the patrol doesn’t make you Clan leader.” Voleclaw sniffed.

  Petaldust nudged her brother. “It does make him patrol leader, though,” she pointed out.

  “Sssh!” Crookedjaw paused and glanced through the willow trees. The sun was lifting into the sky, and all around the meadow Twolegs were beginning to stir from their pelt-dens. The field was dotted with the brightly colored mounds. They rustled and flapped in the breeze.

  “Get down!” Crookedjaw warned as a Twoleg crawled out of his den and padded, coughing, up the field. A Twoleg kit tottered out after him, carrying a bright yellow ball. It tossed the ball and stood watching as it rolled across the grass and bumped into another den.

  “We’re better get past here before they’re all awake,” Oakheart whispered.

  Crookedjaw glanced at the knotted gray fence that bounded the field beyond the trees. They’d have to creep up through the willows and around the top of the field to reach the dog fence. “Come on.” He began to pad forward, tail down. Sunlight streamed through the shivering leaves and dappled the grass. Crookedjaw trod lightly, keeping one eye on the pelt-dens.

  Suddenly a shadow flashed between them. Crookedjaw paused. The shadow flashed again and with a jolt he recognized the shape. A cat. With shoulders and tail that were familiar.

  Mapleshade? He hadn’t trained with her for a moon. Why was she here?

  Oakheart halted beside him and tasted the air. “What’s up?”

  “Can you see that cat?” Crookedjaw nodded to the gap between pelt-dens where Mapleshade’s outline was showing clear as day.

  “What cat?” Oakheart frowned at him. “Do you think the Twolegs have started taking their kittypets out with them?”

  “It’s not a kittypet,” Crookedjaw whispered. “It’s a warrior.”

  Oakheart twitched. “Where?”

  “There.”

  Mapleshade returned his gaze, then flitted behind a pelt-den as the Twoleg kit toddled past.

  “I can’t see anything.”

  “What’s holding us up?” Voleclaw hissed from behind.

  Willowbreeze crept past him and stopped beside Crookedjaw. “Is anything wrong?”

  Crookedjaw shook his head. “I’m seeing things,” he joked. As he began to move off, Mapleshade appeared again, padding around the edge of the pelt-den. What is she doing? He kept walking. His patrol was depending on him to get them away from these Twolegs and safely back to camp.

  “You definitely can’t see any cats with the Twolegs?” he checked with Oakheart.

  “Definitely.” Oakheart flicked his tail over Crookedjaw’s spine. “I think you should get Brambleberry to check your eyes when we get back.” He purred. “And I can tell Beetlenose he’s missed two patrols. He’s going to be spitting mad. He’s picking mallow leaves while Hailstar’s invading ThunderClan and we’re stalking a dog and an invisible cat!”

  “Wait!” Crookedjaw interrupted, his heart tightening.

  Mapleshade was nudging the yellow ball toward them.

  Go away! Panic flared in him. The Twolegs will see us!

  Oakheart bristled beside him. “Is the wind making that ball move?” His gaze was fixed on the slowly rolling ball.

  “No.” Crookedjaw stared pleadingly at Mapleshade as she tapped the ball closer. She held his gaze but did nothing to stop the ball from trickling within a reed-length of the warriors.

  “Twoleg!” Willowbreeze’s hiss snapped his attention from Mapleshade. The Twoleg kit was running after the ball, mewling.

  Graypool stiffened, a growl rumbling in her throat. “It’s heading straight for us.”

  “Duck down!” Crookedjaw ordered. “And stay still! It won’t see us through the long grass. It’s just a kit.”
<
br />   The patrol crouched, fear sparking around them. Crookedjaw peered through the green stems. Mapleshade’s eyes glittered as she rolled the ball closer. With a final push she sent it spinning toward the edge of the meadow. The Twoleg kit stumbled after it, paws outstretched. With a thump, the kit fell over and started to wail.

  A huge Twoleg darted from a pelt-den and raced toward the kit, yowling. It scooped it up and held it, its gaze drifting toward the ball and then the willow trees.

  “StarClan help us!” Willowbreeze’s hiss barely made it through her gritted teeth.

  The Twoleg let out a yelp of surprise.

  “It’s seen us!” Oakheart growled.

  “Hide!” Crookedjaw backed deeper into the long grass. He darted behind a trunk and held his breath as the Twoleg put down its kit and headed into the willows. The Twoleg kit was pointing straight at them! Voleclaw darted behind a fern. Petaldust crouched beside him. Graypool flattened herself beneath an arching strand of bramble and Oakheart ducked behind a rock. Crookedjaw scanned the trees. Where was Willowbreeze?

  The Twoleg was wading through the long grass now, ducking under a low branch. Willowbreeze! Crookedjaw’s heart lurched as he spotted her backed against the gray knotted fence where it extended into the trees. The Twoleg was leaning down toward her. With a grunt, it reached out with one pink hairless paw and grabbed her scruff.

  Crookedjaw swallowed back a cry of rage and fear and watched helplessly as the Twoleg carried Willowbreeze back toward its pelt-den. Its kit followed, yelping happily.

  Oakheart was beside Crookedjaw in an instant. “What happens now?”

  Crookedjaw stared at Willowbreeze, her paws churning the air as she dangled in the Twoleg’s grip. “We’ve got to rescue her!”

  “How?” Voleclaw stared at him, eyes blazing. “Why did you bring us here, you fish-brain?”

  Petaldust leaped from her hiding place and circled her Clanmates. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’ve got to get out of here before they find the rest of us,” Voleclaw hissed.

  Crookedjaw noticed Graypool staring after her sister in horror. “We’ll rescue her, I promise.”

  “Not now, though.” Oakheart nodded to the Twolegs, who were crowding to see their catch. Some of them turned and pointed to the willow trees.

  Crookedjaw straightened up. “Let’s get back to camp and organize a rescue patrol. We’ll take the quickest route. Just make sure no one slows down enough to get caught as well.” He raced out of the trees and pelted across the meadow. The Twolegs stared in surprise as the patrol streamed past them.

  “Willowbreeze!” Crookedjaw yowled to her as he passed. “Don’t fight them! Stay calm! I’ll come back to rescue you!” He pounded into the marshes, twisting his ears to make sure he could hear his patrol at his heels. Weaving among the tussocks of spiky grass, he hurtled toward camp. He raced through the entrance so fast that reeds whipped his back. “They’ve got Willowbreeze!”

  The words froze on his tongue. The clearing was littered with injured cats. Ottersplash lay panting, her ear torn, her pelt clumped with blood. Her kits pressed against her, wailing with fear as Brambleberry draped cobwebs over her wounds. Whitefang crouched beside her, his muzzle bleeding, while Piketooth limped back and forth, growling under his breath. Hailstar sat huddled in conversation with Shellheart, Timberfur, and Rippleclaw.

  Crookedjaw stared in dismay.

  They lost the battle!

  But what about Willowbreeze? He had to get her back.

  StarClan help me!

  Chapter 24

  Petaldust and Graypool skidded to a halt behind Crookedjaw.

  “They lost!” Petaldust gasped.

  Voleclaw stopped beside them. “What happened?”

  “We’ll worry about that later!” Crookedjaw raced toward Hailstar. “Twolegs took Willowbreeze!”

  Shellheart looked up, his eyes dark. Hailstar’s pelt bushed up.

  Timberfur flexed his bloodstained claws. “Where?”

  “When?” Rippleclaw leaned forward.

  “In the pelt-den field. Just now.”

  “Did they hurt her?” Hailstar demanded.

  Crookedjaw shook his head. “They just carried her to their den.”

  “They didn’t harm her at all?” Hailstar pressed. “Did they seem angry?”

  Crookedjaw frowned. What difference did that make? They’d taken her. She’d be terrified and alone.

  Hailstar sighed. “This has been a bad day.” He called to Brambleberry. “How’s Ottersplash?”

  Brambleberry peeled another cobweb from the wad beside her. “No deep wounds,” she reported. “She’ll be okay.”

  Timberfur shrugged. “The brambles did more damage than ThunderClan.”

  Rippleclaw’s pelt was smeared with blood. “They knew what they were doing when they drove us deeper into the forest.”

  Crookedjaw leaned forward. “What about Willowbreeze?”

  Hailstar shifted his paws. “From what you say, it seems like the Twolegs don’t want to hurt her. She’ll be okay until tomorrow. We’ll send a rescue party then.”

  “Tomorrow might be too late! What if they leave in the night and take her with them?” Don’t you care?

  Shellheart ran his tail down Crookedjaw’s spine. “We’ve taken quite a beating today,” he explained.

  Crookedjaw ducked away.

  Fallowtail pounded toward them. “Graypool says Willowbreeze has been taken!” Her blue eyes darted frantically from one warrior to another. “We have to save her!”

  “We’ll rescue her tomorrow,” Hailstar meowed gently. “Once we’ve recovered from our wounds.”

  “You’re leaving her there?” Fallowtail stared at him. “Is it because she’s half WindClan?”

  Hailstar shook his head. “That has nothing to do with it.”

  “Really?” Fallowtail curled her lip. “You gave her up easily last time. Are you giving her up again?”

  “You gave her up last time,” Hailstar corrected.

  “And you let me!”

  “I rescued her from WindClan,” Hailstar reminded her.

  “You just wanted to win your Clan’s respect!” Fallowtail hissed.

  Hailstar’s eyes glittered. “I wanted your kits to be with their true Clan.”

  Timberfur stood and nudged Fallowtail away. “Hailstar will rescue her.” He steered her toward the clearing.

  Crookedjaw followed. “She’ll be okay.” He nodded to Timberfur. “I’ll look after her.”

  As Timberfur returned to Hailstar and Shellheart, Crookedjaw felt Fallowtail tremble beside him. “You have to save her!” Her blue eyes were clouded with fear. “I can’t lose her again!”

  Graypool joined them. “We can’t leave her there,” she agreed. She leaned against her mother. “Who knows what the Twolegs will do with her?”

  Crookedjaw nodded. “I’ll rescue her,” he promised.

  “Now?” Graypool prompted.

  “After dark.” Crookedjaw was already planning his mission. He’d never get past the Twolegs while it was light, but they slept at night. He’d be able to find Willowbreeze in the dark by following her scent.

  “Can I come?” Graypool asked.

  Fallowtail bristled. “No!”

  Crookedjaw gazed sympathetically at the gray warrior. “You stay with Fallowtail,” he ordered. “I can do this alone.”

  Why had Mapleshade pulled such a stupid trick? Did she hate Willowbreeze that much? Where was her loyalty to the Clan?

  The day dragged on. As the sun slowly eased toward the horizon, Crookedjaw’s heart seemed to beat his chest hollow. Fallowtail paced along the edge of the reeds, muttering to herself, while Graypool trotted after her. Brambleberry moved from injured warrior to injured warrior, treating wounds, while the kits raced around the clearing acting out the battle.

  “It’s your turn to be ThunderClan!” Sunkit poked Frogkit with her paw.

  “I don’t want to be stinky ThunderClan!” Frogki
t growled.

  Owlfur and Cedarpelt had restocked the fresh-kill pile, but Crookedjaw wasn’t hungry. As the river slid past, the air pressed hot against his pelt. Crookedjaw longed for a breeze. He glanced at the horizon, hoping for clouds to signal a change in the weather. But the sky was clear, blossoming stars as it darkened around a pale half-moon.

  Brambleberry got to her paws. It was time for her meeting at the Moonstone with the medicine cats from the other Clans. Crookedjaw watched her head out of the camp, wondering how Goosefeather would welcome her after today’s battle.

  It was time he left, too.

  “Aren’t you eating?” Shellheart called as Crookedjaw padded past the fresh-kill pile.

  “Later.” Crookedjaw headed for the entrance. “I want a swim first,” he mumbled. “It’s hot.” He ducked through the entrance and hurried along the grassy path.

  “I know where you’re going.” Brambleberry’s mew surprised him. She bounded down the bank and blocked his path.

  “How?”

  The medicine cat’s eyes were wild, as though something had startled her.

  “Are you okay?” Crookedjaw shifted his paws. What was wrong with her?

  Brambleberry ignored his question. “You’re going to get Willowbreeze.” She circled him, tail flicking.

  “Someone has to.”

  “Yes, yes,” she agreed distractedly. “And that someone must be you. You must do it. It is part of your destiny.”

  Crookedjaw pricked his ears. My destiny! That must be why Mapleshade had been in the field. “What do you know about my destiny?”

  “I know what I need to know. This is it. This is part of it.” Brambleberry paused and stared at him. “You’re going to rescue Willowbreeze? Is that the path you’re choosing?”

  “Is that the path I should choose?” Crookedjaw’s belly twisted at the alternative: to let Willowbreeze stay with the Twolegs.

  “You know your own heart.” Brambleberry started pacing around him again. “I just hope StarClan is right.”

  “Right about what?”

  Before he had finished speaking, Brambleberry darted back up the bank and disappeared into shadow. Crookedjaw swallowed. Am I doing the right thing? He pushed away the thought. Of course I am! I can’t abandon Willowbreeze. She’s my Clanmate.