Crookedstar’s Promise

“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.

Chapter 35

Icy rain dripped through the roof of the den. Crookedjaw shivered. His nest was damp.

Beside him, Willowbreeze rolled over and stretched. “Is it leaking again?” A large drop thudded on to her belly. She jumped to her paws, ears flicking. “When will this rain end?” she snapped. Cold leaf-bare squalls had been battering the camp for days.

Crookedjaw licked her cheek. “I’ll ask Brambleberry to have a word with StarClan.” He heaved himself to his paws, yawning.

“Very funny!” Willowbreeze called as he squeezed out of the den.

The dawn was dull, the sky gray as a squirrel’s pelt. Petaldust, Leopardfur, and Sedgecreek were outside, stuffing the nursery walls and roof with leaves to keep out the weather. Their pelts were spiked with rain, their ears flat against the wind.

Hailstar stood in the clearing, staring at the river.

Crookedjaw stopped beside him. “Is it any higher?”

Water was already lapping over the shore beside the reed bed. Dawnkit and Mallowkit had been forbidden to go near the river. A swell might sweep through the reed bed at any moment and wash away an unsuspecting kit.

“The banks are holding,” Hailstar murmured. “But we need to keep checking.”

Oakheart peered from his den, then darted out to join them. “There’s not a dry spot in camp.” He eyed the river. “Looks higher to me.”

Beyond the barrier of reeds the water swirled, brown and fast. It was too dangerous for fishing.

“Should we move Softwing and Graypool up to the elders’ den?” Oakheart suggested.

Hailstar glanced at the nursery. “Not yet.”

Softwing’s kits, Dawnkit and Mallowkit, were peering out of the entrance, blinking at the rain. Three moons old, they looked more like ’paws every day.

“How’s Graypool?” Hailstar meowed.

Crookedjaw shook his head. “Still sick.”

Graypool had recently moved from her den to the nursery, expecting Rippleclaw’s kits. Brambleberry had been treating her nausea for days but the queen had little appetite.

“We’ll need to move them if the water comes any higher,” Crookedjaw advised.

“I’ve got an idea.” Oakheart tugged a reed from the apprentices’ den and stuck it into the muddy earth, marking where the water had reached. “Now we’ll be able to see how quickly it’s rising.” He sat back on his haunches. “I’ll check it regularly and let you know if it starts moving more quickly.”