Crookedstar’s Promise

He pushed away the thought. He was a warrior now. And one day he’d be the greatest leader RiverClan had ever known. What more could he possibly want? He struck out and swam for the bank. Climbing out near the stepping-stones, he could hear Birdsong’s mew drifting down from Sunningrocks. Hailstar had decided it was safe for the elders to start visiting them again.

“It’s so good to feel the warmth of the stone on my pelt,” she rasped.

Tanglewhisker answered, purring. “There’s nothing like it for reaching every ache.”

Crookedjaw padded up the shore and followed a narrow trail into the spindly trees. The sun was shining but he could taste a change in the wind. It was scented with heather from the moors. Rain was on the way.

The grass swished ahead of him. Crookedjaw froze. A pelt was moving between the trees, keeping low.

Owlfur.

Crookedjaw crouched and held his breath as the brown-and-white warrior passed. He must be assessing Willowpaw! Was she nearby? Darting behind a trunk, he crouched down, out of sight. Paw steps scampered toward him. Crookedjaw’s heart quickened as he waited for Willowpaw’s pelt to come flashing past. But it was Graypaw heading toward the river, scowling with concentration.

Crookedjaw hid as she passed, then pulled himself up the tree, straining to see over the grass. There! Willowpaw’s pale tabby pelt was pushing through a clump of ferns. The feathery green fronds curled over and trailed along her spine. Her eyes were fixed on the ground. She must be stalking something.

A blackbird!

She padded closer as the bird struggled to pull a worm from the ground.

Pounce! Crookedjaw willed her on but Willowpaw was taking her time. She dropped into a crouch, flattening her tail, tucking her forepaws under her shoulders, and pressing her belly against the ground. Crookedjaw felt a flicker of pride. I taught her that. He tensed as the blackbird plucked the worm free.

Now!

Willowpaw leaped as the blackbird lifted into the air. With a deft paw she hooked it and brought it plummeting to the ground. She held it fluttering beneath her forepaws and looked around hopefully.

Owlfur’s head appeared from behind a bush. “Very good,” he meowed. “You can let it go.”

Eyes shining, Willowpaw released the blackbird and it fled, squawking, into the branches above her head.

Well done! Crookedjaw’s heart soared.

“What in the name of StarClan are you doing?” A voice sounded from the bottom of the tree.

Guilt flooded his fur. Mapleshade!

She’d caught him watching Willowpaw again. Crookedjaw whirled around, ready with an excuse, and saw Shellheart staring up at him, puzzled.

“Why are you hiding in a tree?” Shellheart asked.

Crookedjaw slithered headfirst down the trunk. “I was just—er—just watching—er—just seeing if the assessments were g-going okay…” He stammered to a halt.

Shellheart’s ears twitched. “Really?” He didn’t sound convinced.

Crookedjaw shrugged. “I wanted to see how Willowpaw was doing.”

Shellheart looked at him with amusement. “I guessed.” He purred. “And how is Willowpaw doing?”

Crookedjaw couldn’t stifle his purr. “Great!”

“Good.” Shellheart nosed him away from the tree. “Why don’t you come back to camp with me? We don’t want to distract her when she’s doing so well.” He steered Crookedjaw on to a trail that led away from the apprentices.

In the clearing, Mudfur was pacing outside the nursery. Something’s wrong!

Ottersplash trotted after the brown warrior, calling, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. They’ll all be fine.”

Crookedjaw stopped and looked around. Echomist crouched beneath the willow, her anxious gaze fixed on the nursery. Rainflower growled softly to herself as she padded along the edge of the reeds.

Crookedjaw blocked her path. “What’s wrong?”

Rainflower closed her eyes. “Brightsky’s kitting.”

“Why can’t we go to the nursery?” Sunkit complained.

“We just can’t!” mewed Shimmerpelt, who was helping Lakeshine shoo the kits up the slope toward the elders’ den.

“But why not?”

“Come on, dears!” Birdsong called from the top. “Come and explore our nests. Have you been inside the elders’ den before, Reedkit?”

“I don’t want to go in there.” Reedkit stopped at the entrance. “It’s stinky.”

Shimmerpelt nudged him forward with her nose. “Don’t be rude.”

Loudkit scowled. “It’s too hot to be inside!” he complained. “Can’t we practice swimming in the reed bed?”

Lakeshine shook her head. “Later, little one. We just need to be quiet for a while.”

A shriek sounded from the nursery.

Sunkit bristled. “What was that?”

Shimmerpelt nudged her inside. “Brightsky’s kitting.”

Crookedjaw stared at Rainflower. “When did she start?”

“Just after dawn.” Rainflower’s gaze was dark. “Brambleberry’s worried. Brightsky’s still weak from fever.”

“But she’s a tough warrior,” Crookedjaw pointed out.

“Sometimes that’s not enough,” Rainflower warned over her shoulder as she padded away.

Crookedjaw joined Ottersplash and Mudfur. “Does Brambleberry need anything? Water? Honey?”