Crookedstar’s Promise

“I won’t let them catch you,” Crookedjaw promised. He nosed his way around the edge of the den, squeezing through the narrow channel between the clutter and the den wall. The Twolegs were chattering and hooting, crouched around something in the middle of the den. Crookedjaw stretched up and peered over the nearest pile, his ears flat, eyes wide.

The Twolegs were dangling a thread into a square brown nest. Familiar pale tabby paws flapped frantically at the thread, trying to catch it as the Twolegs twitched it and pulled it out of reach.

“I can see her!” Crookedjaw dropped down and whispered in Graypool’s ear. “They’ve got her in some sort of trap and they’re teasing her.”

Graypool flexed her claws. “Is she okay?”

“I think she’s playing along,” Crookedjaw guessed.

Graypool opened her mouth. “I don’t smell blood.”

“They haven’t harmed her, then.” Crookedjaw felt a rush of relief. “Now we have to wait.”

“Here?”

Crookedjaw nodded. Now that he had Willowbreeze in sight, he didn’t want to lose her again. He flattened his belly against the floor. Graypool settled beside him.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised her.

She swallowed and nodded.

Crookedjaw began to grow stiff as the Twolegs played with Willowbreeze. He glanced over the pile again and again, itching with frustration, until suddenly the Twolegs started moving clumsily around the den, rummaging in the muddled pelts that were scattered on the floor.

Crookedjaw tensed. “Look out!” Twoleg paws plunged into the heap they were sheltering behind. He ducked under the edge, out into the field, dragging Graypool after him. “That was close!”

They crouched in the grass. The earthy scent of it soothed Crookedjaw’s jangled nerves. The light disappeared from the pelt-den. Murmuring and rustling, the Twolegs gradually settled down.

“Can we go back in?” Graypool’s round eyes reflected the moon.

“Let’s wait a bit longer,” Crookedjaw whispered. “Until they’re asleep.”

On the other side of the willow trees, the river glided past, rolling pebbles along the shore, and an owl screeched far away. One by one, the pelt-dens grew dark and silent.

“Now.” Crookedjaw slid under the stretched pelt once more. Ears pricked, he listened for movement. The Twolegs were still, lying under pelts at the far side of the den. He sensed rather than saw Graypool beside him as he crept over a heap of pelts and padded across the den. He could just make out the brown trap near the Twolegs’ hind paws. Fur swished inside it. Claws scrabbled quietly against its walls.

“She’s trying to get out.” Crookedjaw darted toward it, hissing. “We’re here, Willowbreeze. We’ve come to get you.”

A low purr of relief sounded inside the box. “I can’t get the flaps open at the top.”

Crookedjaw reached up and saw the top of the trap was folded, flap over flap. He tugged at one, but it wouldn’t shift.

“Let me help.” Graypool stretched up beside him and hooked her claws under a flap. Together they tugged, but the strange hard substance wouldn’t give.

“Push!” Crookedjaw hissed to Willowbreeze.

“I am!” she snapped back.

“Together!” Crookedjaw gave a fierce heave.

The trap rocked wildly and tumbled over on to its side. Graypool squawked as it fell on top of her. The Twolegs sat up, yelping, as Graypool struggled to escape. Crookedjaw whipped his head around. The Twolegs were flailing in the dark. They hadn’t spotted the extra cats yet, but it wouldn’t be long. Panic surging inside him, Crookedjaw turned back to the trap. A gap had opened between the flaps. Willowbreeze’s paws were stretching through.

“Pull!” he yowled to Graypool. He didn’t care if the Twolegs heard. They were thrashing around in their pelts, slapping the darkness with lumbering paws. As one brushed Crookedjaw’s tail, he yanked desperately at the trap. It gave way and Willowbreeze shot out like a rabbit from a foxhole.

A light flashed over them. Crookedjaw caught the full glare and staggered, blinded. The Twolegs screeched.

“This way!” Graypool pushed him forward.

Crookedjaw hurtled headlong into a heap of pelts, his paws tangling with StarClan knew what. Terror clawed at him as he struggled free. Blurred shapes moved around him as he adjusted to the light. Willowbreeze was disappearing over the wall of pelts with Graypool on her tail. Crookedjaw shot after them, Twolegs shrieking behind him. He dived under the stretched pelt and out into the field.

Willowbreeze was standing in the grass staring at him. “That was close!”

Graypool grabbed her scruff and dragged her forward. “Run, you fish-brain!”

They pelted away through the dewy grass. Crookedjaw glanced over his shoulder. Twolegs were bursting out of the dens all over the meadow, flashing lights and howling. Crookedjaw stretched his claws and dug them deeper with every stride, racing after his Clanmates with the blood roaring in his ears.

Chapter 25

“Psst!”

A hiss stopped Crookedjaw in his tracks.