Crookedstar’s Promise

They lost the battle!

But what about Willowbreeze? He had to get her back.

StarClan help me!

Chapter 24

Petaldust and Graypool skidded to a halt behind Crookedjaw.

“They lost!” Petaldust gasped.

Voleclaw stopped beside them. “What happened?”

“We’ll worry about that later!” Crookedjaw raced toward Hailstar. “Twolegs took Willowbreeze!”

Shellheart looked up, his eyes dark. Hailstar’s pelt bushed up.

Timberfur flexed his bloodstained claws. “Where?”

“When?” Rippleclaw leaned forward.

“In the pelt-den field. Just now.”

“Did they hurt her?” Hailstar demanded.

Crookedjaw shook his head. “They just carried her to their den.”

“They didn’t harm her at all?” Hailstar pressed. “Did they seem angry?”

Crookedjaw frowned. What difference did that make? They’d taken her. She’d be terrified and alone.

Hailstar sighed. “This has been a bad day.” He called to Brambleberry. “How’s Ottersplash?”

Brambleberry peeled another cobweb from the wad beside her. “No deep wounds,” she reported. “She’ll be okay.”

Timberfur shrugged. “The brambles did more damage than ThunderClan.”

Rippleclaw’s pelt was smeared with blood. “They knew what they were doing when they drove us deeper into the forest.”

Crookedjaw leaned forward. “What about Willowbreeze?”

Hailstar shifted his paws. “From what you say, it seems like the Twolegs don’t want to hurt her. She’ll be okay until tomorrow. We’ll send a rescue party then.”

“Tomorrow might be too late! What if they leave in the night and take her with them?” Don’t you care?

Shellheart ran his tail down Crookedjaw’s spine. “We’ve taken quite a beating today,” he explained.

Crookedjaw ducked away.

Fallowtail pounded toward them. “Graypool says Willowbreeze has been taken!” Her blue eyes darted frantically from one warrior to another. “We have to save her!”

“We’ll rescue her tomorrow,” Hailstar meowed gently. “Once we’ve recovered from our wounds.”

“You’re leaving her there?” Fallowtail stared at him. “Is it because she’s half WindClan?”

Hailstar shook his head. “That has nothing to do with it.”

“Really?” Fallowtail curled her lip. “You gave her up easily last time. Are you giving her up again?”

“You gave her up last time,” Hailstar corrected.

“And you let me!”

“I rescued her from WindClan,” Hailstar reminded her.

“You just wanted to win your Clan’s respect!” Fallowtail hissed.

Hailstar’s eyes glittered. “I wanted your kits to be with their true Clan.”

Timberfur stood and nudged Fallowtail away. “Hailstar will rescue her.” He steered her toward the clearing.

Crookedjaw followed. “She’ll be okay.” He nodded to Timberfur. “I’ll look after her.”

As Timberfur returned to Hailstar and Shellheart, Crookedjaw felt Fallowtail tremble beside him. “You have to save her!” Her blue eyes were clouded with fear. “I can’t lose her again!”

Graypool joined them. “We can’t leave her there,” she agreed. She leaned against her mother. “Who knows what the Twolegs will do with her?”

Crookedjaw nodded. “I’ll rescue her,” he promised.

“Now?” Graypool prompted.

“After dark.” Crookedjaw was already planning his mission. He’d never get past the Twolegs while it was light, but they slept at night. He’d be able to find Willowbreeze in the dark by following her scent.

“Can I come?” Graypool asked.

Fallowtail bristled. “No!”

Crookedjaw gazed sympathetically at the gray warrior. “You stay with Fallowtail,” he ordered. “I can do this alone.”

Why had Mapleshade pulled such a stupid trick? Did she hate Willowbreeze that much? Where was

her loyalty to the Clan?

The day dragged on. As the sun slowly eased toward the horizon, Crookedjaw’s heart seemed to beat his chest hollow. Fallowtail paced along the edge of the reeds, muttering to herself, while Graypool trotted after her. Brambleberry moved from injured warrior to injured warrior, treating wounds, while the kits raced around the clearing acting out the battle.

“It’s your turn to be ThunderClan!” Sunkit poked Frogkit with her paw.

“I don’t want to be stinky ThunderClan!” Frogkit growled.

Owlfur and Cedarpelt had restocked the fresh-kill pile, but Crookedjaw wasn’t hungry. As the river slid past, the air pressed hot against his pelt. Crookedjaw longed for a breeze. He glanced at the horizon, hoping for clouds to signal a change in the weather. But the sky was clear, blossoming stars as it darkened around a pale half-moon.

Brambleberry got to her paws. It was time for her meeting at the Moonstone with the medicine cats from the other Clans. Crookedjaw watched her head out of the camp, wondering how Goosefeather would welcome her after today’s battle.

It was time he left, too.

“Aren’t you eating?” Shellheart called as Crookedjaw padded past the fresh-kill pile.

“Later.” Crookedjaw headed for the entrance. “I want a swim first,” he mumbled. “It’s hot.” He ducked through the entrance and hurried along the grassy path.