Crookedstar’s Promise

“Do you really think a loner left them in the snow? Is it just a coincidence they look like RiverClan cats? That they pounce like RiverClan cats?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Are you stupid or blind or both?” The fur lifted along her spine. “Why do you think your brother spends all day hunting for them? Watching them as if they’re his next meal? He’s more attentive than most fathers—but then he is raising them without their true mother.”

Anger pulsed beneath Crookedstar’s pelt. “I’m not going to listen to any more of your lies! Oakheart has no kits! He’s never even had a mate!”

Mapleshade’s eyes glinted. “Not in RiverClan.” She jerked her head toward the far bank. “Look across the river, you fool!”

Crookedstar stared at the trees lined along ThunderClan’s bank. He suddenly felt cold. “What are you saying?” He snapped his gaze back to Mapleshade but the Dark Forest warrior had gone.

Crookedstar whirled around and raced back along the shore. Don’t be dumb! He leaped on to the grassy path.

It’s just more of her lies! There’s no way these kits have anything to do with Oakheart! He skidded into the clearing out of breath, scanning the camp. “Oakheart!”

“What’s going on?” Oakheart darted, bristling, away from the nursery.

Crookedstar lowered his voice, suddenly aware that he was frightening the kits. “Come with me,” he ordered quietly.

Oakheart followed him through the reeds to the shore below the camp. “What is it?” He climbed onto a smooth rock and sat down, wrapping his thick, tawny tail over his paws. “Something’s wrong.” Worry sharpened his amber gaze.

Crookedstar was aware of the river sliding past and the birds chattering in the trees behind them. A kingfisher was sitting in the branch of an overhanging willow, studying the water for the tiniest flicker of a fish tail. Crookedstar took a deep breath. “Are they your kits?”

Oakheart stared at him. There was no twitch of his whiskers. No flick of his ear. His pelt was as smooth as fish scales. “Yes.”

“And Bluefur’s?” Who else can it be?

“Yes.” Pain flashed in Oakheart’s eyes. “She gave them up to become ThunderClan’s deputy.” His voice dropped to a pained whisper. “She couldn’t let Thistleclaw take over.” He shrugged. “She didn’t say why, just that her Clan needed her. She was so certain that she was doing the right thing, Crookedstar! What else could I do?”

Should I have told Sunstar what I knew about Thistleclaw? Crookedstar scraped his claws through the pebbles. It would have helped Bluefur. She might have kept her kits. Instead I left her to stop Thistleclaw by herself.

The secrets he’d been carrying suddenly felt like stones in his belly. If he dived in the river now, they’d drag him to the bottom.

Oakheart leaned forward. “What are you going to do?” A challenge edged his mew, the challenge of a father willing to do anything to protect his kits.

“Nothing.”

Oakheart blinked.

“We’re going to raise them as RiverClan,” Crookedstar went on. “They are our kin, after all.” He looked down at his paws. “But I wish you had confided in me. You know you can trust me with anything.”

Oakheart sighed. “I guess we all have our secrets.”

Crookedstar lifted his gaze and stared into his brother’s clear amber eyes. If only you knew.

Chapter 38

Crookedstar tossed another trout to Timberfur lying by the reed bed. A good day’s hunting had given the Clan all it needed for the feast. The past four seasons had treated them kindly and they were well fed and sleek. The sun was finally slipping toward the river and a cool greenleaf breeze wafted over the camp.

Stonefur rolled on to his back. “I’m stuffed.” He lapped awkwardly at his bloated belly. For a young warrior, he was as solid as his senior Clanmates and longer-legged.

Mallowtail poked him with a paw. “You deserve it,” she purred. “I’ve never seen anyone chase off a Twoleg before.”

Graypool’s ears twitched. “I wish you wouldn’t take so many chances, Stonefur,” she chided. “It wasn’t long ago you were an apprentice.”

“It wasn’t just me,” Stonefur reminded her. “It was the whole patrol.”

Mistyfoot gently nudged Graypool. “You worry about us too much.”

Graypool snorted. “Well, someone has to.”

Timberfur swished his tail. “You did get a bit close, Stonefur.”

“It shouldn’t have come so near the camp,” Stonefur argued.

“Attacking Twolegs can only lead to trouble,” Echomist fretted.

“He didn’t attack it,” Mistyfoot defended her brother. “He just hissed at it.”

“And now it’s gone off yowling to its Clanmates about you.” Echomist shook her head. “They’ll be invading the camp, just you wait and see.”

Rippleclaw yawned. “Twolegs are too dumb to organize an attack.”