Эрин Хантер - Bluestar's Prophecy

Oakheart!

She spotted his tawny pelt swimming through the crowd. Shouldering her way through a cluster of ShadowClan warriors, she headed for him, keeping her gaze fixed on his pelt in case she lost sight of him.

“Oakheart,” she hissed as soon as he was close enough to hear.

He spun around, his eyes lighting up when he saw her.

“We need to talk.”

He nodded and darted away, beckoning Bluefur with his tail. She followed as he weaved out of the crowd and slid behind one of the great oaks.

“I heard about the kits,” he whispered. “How are they? What do they look like?” His eyes were glowing with pride and, for a moment, Bluefur forgot what she had come to tell him. If only he could see their kits, curled like sleepy dormice in the nursery.

“They’re beautiful,” she breathed. “I named them Stonekit, Mistykit, and Mosskit.”

Oakheart sighed and sat down. “I wish I could see them.”

“You can.” Bluefur stiffened. “I can’t keep them.”

“What?” Oakheart stared at her in disbelief.

“My Clan needs me more.”

“I—I don’t understand.” His mouth hung open.

He thinks I’m heartless . Bluefur shut her eyes for a moment, looking for the fire that burned inside her. Then she looked at the cat that had once been her mate. “Our kits are lucky,” she meowed. “They have both you and me to protect them. ThunderClan has only me.”

“What are you asking me?” Oakheart growled.

“You have to take them. I’ll bring them to Sunningrocks tomorrow night.”

Oakheart narrowed his eyes. “If I take them, they’ll be raised as RiverClan warriors,” he warned. “For their own sakes, they will never know that you were their mother.”

“I understand,” Bluefur whispered. Would her kits forget her so easily? How could she let them grow up without her? She had to—or they would drown in blood with their Clanmates when Thistleclaw came to power. She blinked and turned to walk away. She had to trust in StarClan. And in Oakheart.

His paw tugged her pelt.

“Bluefur?”

“What?” She turned on him, eyes fiery as she fought to stay strong.

“This isn’t like you,” he murmured. “I can see how much you love our kits. You are a good mother.”

Her voice cracked. “I can’t be what I want to be. I need to be strong as fire. I need to save my Clan.” Grief clouded her gaze, and Oakheart swam in front of her. “It is for the best,” she whispered. “I hope they know that they have been loved. Even if they don’t remember me, I hope they’ll know that.”

Oakheart touched his muzzle to her cheek. “They will know,” he promised. “And…thank you.” The warmth of his breath brought memories surging back until Bluefur couldn’t bear it any longer, and she wrenched herself away. She padded back into the throng of cats, knowing that each paw step took her farther from her kits.

Please, StarClan. Let this truly be the path you wish me to follow .

“Wake up.” Bluefur kept her voice low so she didn’t disturb White-eye, Mousekit, or Runningkit. “Come on, Mosskit. Open your eyes.” She gently shook her kits one by one and watched as they stretched, trembling, and opened their sleepy eyes.

Stonekit yawned. “Is it dawn?”

“Not yet,” Bluefur murmured. “So we have to be quiet. We don’t want to wake anyone up.”

“What’s the matter?” Mistykit squeaked.

“Hush.” Bluefur looked anxiously at White-eye’s nest. Runningkit was fidgeting in his sleep. She wrapped her tail around her own kits, quieting them until Runningkit lay still, then whispered, “We’re going to play a game, but you have to be very, very quiet.”

Stonekit was wide awake now, blinking in the darkness. “What game?”

“It’s called Secret Escape.” Bluefur made her eyes bright, forcing herself to look excited. She felt as if she were in a dream, and nothing she said or did was really happening.

Mistykit jumped to her paws. “How do we play?”

“It’s an adventure,” Bluefur explained. “We pretend that ShadowClan has invaded the camp. We have to escape without being seen, and meet our Clanmates at Sunningrocks.”

Mosskit stared at her with round, anxious eyes. “We’re leaving the camp?”

Stonekit nudged her. “How else would we get to Sunningrocks, mouse-brain?”

“But we’ve never been out of the camp before,” Mosskit fretted. “We’re too little.”

“I’m hungry,” Mistykit complained.

Bluefur fought the frustration pricking her nerves. “Okay,” she mewed softly. “Let’s eat first, then we’ll start the game. Mosskit, you’re a big, strong kit now. You’ll be fine, I promise.” She gave them what milk she had, which was even less than usual after so many days’ hunger, and then nosed them out of the nest.

Stonekit bounced to the entrance. “I can’t believe we’re going out of camp!” he mewed excitedly.

“Hush,” Bluefur reminded him. “If we wake any cats, we’ve lost the game.”

She squeezed out first and turned to scoop the three kits down into the snow. There’d been a new fall since dusk, but the clouds had cleared and the camp shone white in the moonlight. She scanned the clearing. No sign of life.

Breath billowed from her mouth as she hurried her kits behind the nursery. The air was needle-sharp cold. “We’re going to use the dirtplace tunnel,” she whispered, checking again that no one was around to see them. “That’s what we’d do if we were really sneaking out of the camp.”

Bluefur hurried them through the narrow tunnel and out past the bush that covered the dirtplace.

Mistykit wrinkled her nose. “Stinky!”

Stonekit was staring up through the bare branches. “Wow! It’s big out here!”

“I know, little one.” Bluefur nudged him on. She remembered the first time she had left the camp, when Sunstar—Sunfall, then—had taken her to the top of the ravine just before she was made an apprentice. It had been the biggest adventure of her life, and she hadn’t been able to imagine a time when scrambling up and down the ravine would feel ordinary or easy.

The side of the ravine loomed above them. The kits tipped back their heads and stared up, their eyes huge and filled with the moon.

“I’ll have to carry you up,” Bluefur told them. “Then you can see the real forest.”

Mistykit blinked. “There’s more?”

Bluefur pricked her ears, listening for Stormtail. She knew he was guarding the camp tonight.

Stonekit pricked his ears, too. “Are ShadowClan warriors after us?” he squeaked. “In the game, I mean.”

“They might be,” Bluefur whispered. “We have to keep a lookout, just in case. That’s what makes it so exciting.”

Mistykit whipped around. “I think I see a ShadowClan warrior in the trees,” she warned.

Bluefur’s heart lurched. “Where?”

“Only pretend,” Mistykit purred.

Sighing, Bluefur scooped her up and tackled the first tumble of rocks. Leaving the little gray kit at the top, she went back for Stonekit.

She was panting by the time she had collected the last kit. She left Mosskit until last because she was the smallest. She didn’t wriggle when Bluefur picked her up, but she still felt heavier than a rock.

“My scruff hurts,” Stonekit complained. “I bet I could have climbed some of it myself.”

“There wasn’t time.” Bluefur glanced at the moon rising in the sky. Oakheart would be on his way.

Stonekit stared into the forest, where moon shadows darkened the snow. “I’m going first.” He scampered ahead of his littermates, glancing over his shoulder. “Come on, you two.”

Bluefur nosed Mistykit and Mosskit forward. Even under cover of the trees, the snow was so deep that they had to struggle with every step, leaping out of one drift and sinking into the next. She scooped them along, relieved that Stonekit seemed to be able to manage by himself.