Crookedstar’s Promise

As the apprentices padded into the clearing, Hailstar went on. “Willowpaw, you have the swiftness of a WindClan cat but the heart of a RiverClan warrior. In honor of your speed, courage, and cleverness, I give you the name Willowbreeze!”

Crookedjaw lifted his voice, solemnly chanting the new warrior name with his Clanmates. Clouds had covered the sun and were quickly darkening as Hailstar went on. “Graypaw, you have your mother’s determination, bravery, and warmth. From this moment you shall be known as Graypool.”

“Graypool! Graypool! Graypool!”

As Crookedjaw lifted his muzzle to join in, a raindrop splashed on his nose. In a few moments, the storm broke and rain pounded the camp as though StarClan itself was mourning for Brightsky and her lost kits.

Chapter 23

Crookedjaw padded, yawning, from his nest. Dawn was just starting to brighten the horizon. The river gurgled beyond the reeds and snores rumbled from the other dens as he nosed his way into the clearing. He’d noticed the Clan had been sleeping more since the death of Brightsky and her kits. They crawled later from their dens, their old enthusiasm for the day’s duties drooping like sedge beneath a heavy frost.

“Ow!”

A squeak made him pause.

“You’re treading on my tail!”

The sedge was rustling on the far side of camp. Crookedjaw strained to see through the half-light. A tiny tail was disappearing among the green fronds. He padded noiselessly across the clearing, pricking his ears.

“Which way are we going?”

“I don’t know!”

He recognized the squabbling mews of Frogkit and Skykit.

“Why didn’t we just go out the entrance?”

“We might have been caught.”

Crookedjaw plunged his head into the sedge and grabbed Frogkit by his scruff. Dragging him out, he dropped him on the ground and reached in for Skykit.

“Hey!” She struggled as he pulled her out of the stalks.

“Where are you going?” he asked sternly, depositing Skykit beside her denmate.

The two kits exchanged glances. Crookedjaw guessed they were working out whether to tell the truth or not. Fur brushed the sedge wall behind him.

Brambleberry.

She was yawning. “I was just heading out to fetch herbs,” she mewed sleepily.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Crookedjaw greeted her. “I caught these two trying to sneak out of camp.”

Brambleberry’s whiskers twitched. “What? Kits! Trying to sneak out? That’s never happened before!” She stared in mock surprise at Crookedjaw.

Crookedjaw swallowed back a purr. He was trying to stay stern for the kits’ sake. Besides, he knew better than any cat the dangers waiting beyond the camp wall for adventurous kits. “Where were you going?” he asked them again.

Frogkit glanced at Brambleberry, then at his paws. “We wanted to see where Brightsky’s kits were buried,” he mumbled.

Brambleberry frowned. “Why in the name of StarClan would you want to do that?”

Skykit shuffled her paws. “We wanted to see if it was true they were dead.”

Crookedjaw leaned closer. “Why wouldn’t it be true?”

“StarClan doesn’t really let kits die, does it?” The kit’s pale brown fur rippled.

Frogkit twitched his striped tail. “Ottersplash wouldn’t let us see the vigil.”

Crookedjaw tucked his tail tight over his paws as he remembered the long, heartbreaking night, less than half a moon ago, when Mudfur had chased his Clanmates away from Brightsky’s body and cradled his three dead kits against his mate’s stiff flank.

“StarClan does take kits,” Brambleberry told them. “And keeps them safe.” She crouched beside the wide-eyed kits. “They’ll be allowed to hunt there. StarClan has the clearest rivers and fastest fish. And they’ll be with Brightsky.”

Frogkit stuck out his tail. “Birdsong says StarClan took them as an omen.”

“Rainflower and Echomist say that more bad things are going to happen,” Skykit added.

Frogkit went on. “Piketooth thinks StarClan is angry with us.”

“And Troutclaw says that’s why you couldn’t save the kits or Brightsky.”

Brambleberry flinched. “It wasn’t an omen.” Her mew was steady. “Sometimes bad things happen. I did everything I could, but Brightsky was too sick and it made her kits sick, too.”

Crookedjaw drew closer to the medicine cat. “If StarClan was angry with us, why did they leave us Leopardkit?” he reminded the kits. Mudfur had named his daughter after the ancient Clan, hoping it would give the tiny kit all the strength she would need to survive without her mother.

“I guess they want us to look after her,” Skykit conceded.

“Exactly,” Brambleberry agreed. “And why would they leave her with us if they thought we were bad or that bad things were going to happen?”

Frogkit flexed his claws. “Can we go and see where they’re buried anyway?”

“No.” Crookedjaw nosed them toward the nursery. “Shimmerpelt and Lakeshine will be wondering where you are.”

Skykit sniffed. “Shimmerpelt’s always too busy feeding Leopardkit.”