Crookedstar’s Promise

“You don’t get away from Goosefeather that easily!” the old cat snarled. Stormkit felt hot breath on his heels and jagged claws spiked his tail. Unbalanced, he leaped for the final stone. His paws hit water as he plunged into the river.

StarClan help me!

Pain shot though his face as he collided with the base of the rock. Cold water engulfed him and the world turned black. Churning his paws, Stormkit flailed for the surface but he had no idea which way up was. Gravel grazed his belly, then his spine, as the river tumbled him downstream like a leaf.

Water stung his eyes as he opened them, searching for sunlight. Shadowy shapes raced past him. He struggled against the current, trying to swim, but another submerged rock slammed against his side, knocking the last of his breath from him. His chest heaved as he fought not to suck in water. Then he saw a shape moving steadily toward him. A she-cat. Orange and white, he could just make her out in the gloom.

Had StarClan come to claim him? Terror clawed Stormkit’s belly and he fought harder, praying for air, for the surface, for something to grab on to that would stop him being washed into StarClan’s hunting grounds. He couldn’t die yet!

The orange-and-white cat swam closer.

Go away! I don’t want to come with you! The words screamed in Stormkit’s mind.

“Don’t worry, little one.” He heard the cat’s words as though she were whispering in his ear, even though she was still a tail-length away. “It’s not your time yet. You have a great destiny ahead of you.” Her amber eyes shone in the green water and then she was gone.

Teeth gripped Stormkit’s scruff. With a jerk, he was above the rushing water, dangling from the jaws of Mudfur. The brown warrior turned against the current and swam for shore. Stormkit gulped air, coughing and trembling, suddenly aware of an agonizing pain in his cheek.

Mudfur scrambled from the river and bounded up the bank.

“Is he okay?” Oakkit yowled.

Stormkit could hear his brother but he couldn’t open his eyes because his whole face felt as if it were on fire. He felt liquid bubbling at his lips and tasted blood. He started to shake. What’s wrong with me?

Mudfur didn’t speak or put him down, just headed along the path toward camp with Stormkit swinging limply beneath his chin.

“What’s wrong with him?”

The sound of fear in Oakkit’s voice frightened Stormkit more. Each jolt as Mudfur’s paws hit the ground shot through his face like lightning. Stormkit tried to open his eyes. Grass, sedge, and willow herb streamed past in a blur. He could hear his own breathing. He was terribly cold and his paws felt numb.

It’s not your time yet. It’s not your time yet. He clung to the orange-and-white cat’s words, repeating them as though praying to StarClan. He smelled the warm scent of Brambleberry as Mudfur ducked through the sedge tunnel into camp.

“Where did you find him?” Rainflower’s shrill mew cut through the anxious murmur that greeted them. “Oakkit? Oakkit!”

“I’m here.”

“What happened?”

“Stormkit fell and hit a stepping-stone.”

Brambleberry’s mew sounded calm among the others. “Take him to my den, Mudfur.”

Past the haze of pelts and worried eyes. Past the deep olive sedge and into the green calm of Brambleberry’s den. It was a wide space, almost a clearing, thickly walled by sedge with a nest hollowed out at one side where Brambleberry slept. Stormkit smelled his mother close by, her scent edged with fear.

Rainflower moved around him, pushing past Brambleberry, nudging Mudfur as the brown tom laid Stormkit gently down. “What has he done to himself?”

“Let me see.” Brambleberry nosed the queen away.

Stormkit tried to focus on the white medicine cat, but the black spots that dotted her fur swam before his eyes.

“His face! His handsome face!” Rainflower’s wail sent a new wave of terror through him.

Mudfur’s pelt brushed Stormkit’s flank as he huddled facedown on the smooth earth floor. “Come on, Rainflower. You need to check on Oakkit. He’s pretty shaken up.”

As the warrior steered Rainflower from the den, Brambleberry leaned closer to Stormkit. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll take care of you.”

Stormkit lay numb and trembling as Brambleberry disappeared for a moment. When she returned she was carrying something that had a strong, sour tang.

“I’m going to squeeze juice into the side of your mouth,” she told him. “It’ll taste bad and it’ll hurt to swallow, but you must take it.” Her mew was firm. “It’ll help you feel better.”

Stormkit tried to speak but his mouth felt thick and strange, and another jolt of pain made him cry out.

“This has willow bark, thyme, and poppy extract in it,” Brambleberry went on, her voice low and soft.

Stormkit felt wetness at the side of his mouth and then a stream of liquid trickled in. He forced himself to swallow in spite of the agony.