She erupted from the bracken and scrabbled to a stop in a clearing at the edge of the cliff. Leaves sprayed into the chasm as her paws slipped and slid.
Oh, StarClan, no!
Fireheart was dangling from the glistening jaws of a huge dog. The ThunderClan deputy struggled, spitting with fury. The dog shook him, its eyes shining with triumph, but its clumsy paws were skittering dangerously close to the edge of the gorge.
“I will not let you destroy my Clan!” Bluestar roared. She flung herself at Fireheart’s tormentor, slamming headfirst into its flank.
The dog dropped Fireheart and spun around in surprise.
Bluestar crouched and unsheathed her claws. Blood roared in her ears but she felt no fear. She had not felt this alive for moons. She lashed out at the dog’s muzzle, but her claws raked empty air. The dog was sliding away from her! The ground beneath its hind legs was crumbling. Shards of stone showered down the steep face of the gorge as the dog’s paws scrabbled to get a grip, but its blunt claws were slithering on the leaf-strewn forest floor as its haunches dragged its hind legs backward over the cliff.
The pack thundered closer.
“Bluestar!” Fireheart warned.
But Bluestar didn’t take her eyes from the pack leader. She was locked in its panicked gaze as dogs began to crash through the bracken behind her.
The pack was upon them.
Bluestar dug her claws into the soft earth as the air suddenly soured with fear. The lunging dogs had seen the gorge, and their howls turned to yelps as they skidded at its edge. Bluestar held her ground as a desperate yowl echoed down the chasm. The first dog had fallen. Its body thumped against the cliff, and there was a moment of quiet before she heard it splash into the roaring water below.
Bluestar narrowed her eyes, still fixed on the pack leader. “You should never have threatened ThunderClan!” she hissed.
Suddenly the dog stretched its head forward and grasped her foreleg in its jaws. She felt the ground slide beneath her as the dog dragged her with it over the edge. Wind roared around her, blasting her pelt as she fell. The river swirled and foamed below. She scrabbled desperately against the cold wet air and struggled free of the dog just a moment before she hit the water.
The freezing river knocked the breath from her body. Blind, she struggled against the current, fighting her way toward air, her heart gripped by panic. Goosefeather’s prophecy burned in her mind: Water will destroy you.
Her thick fur, heavy with water, dragged her down. The river tumbled all around her; she didn’t know which way was up. Her lungs screamed for air. Terror scorched through her. She was going to drown, there in the foaming waters of the gorge.
Don’t give up! A meow sounded clear and familiar through the roar of the water.
Oakheart?
The father of her kits was murmuring in her ears: It’s like running through the forest. Let your paws do the work. Raise your chin. Let the water carry you up.
His voice seemed to lift her, calming her panic, and she found that her paws were churning steadily through the water. Her heart, tight with pain, slowed as she strained to raise her chin, until at last the wind whipped her face. Coughing and gagging, she snatched a gulp of air.
That’s the way, Oakheart whispered in her ear.
His voice sounded so gentle, so welcoming. Perhaps she should just let the river sweep her away into the softness of his fur.
Bluestar, swim! Head for the bank! Oakheart’s mew was sharp now. Our kits are waiting.
Our kits! The thought of them hit her like a lightning bolt.
You can’t leave them without saying good-bye.
Energy surged through Bluestar, and she began to fight once more. A dark shape buffeted her, knocking her underwater again, but she struggled to the surface, spluttering as water filled her mouth and caught in her throat. The rolling body of a dog tumbled past her and was swept downstream.
If a dog can’t fight this current, how can I?
The treetops blurred overhead as the river swirled her along.
You can do it! Oakheart urged. Bluestar churned at the water, but her exhausted legs felt like sodden leaves, flailing uselessly.
Suddenly teeth grasped her scruff. Was Oakheart going to drag her to safety? Bluestar blinked water from her eyes long enough to glimpse orange fur.
Fireheart!
The ThunderClan deputy had gotten hold of her.
“Keep your head up!” he growled through clenched jaws.
Bluestar tried to help him, but her pelt was heavy and her paws were too tired to fight the weight of water. Fireheart’s teeth tore at her scruff as the water dragged her down.
Then another body brushed hers.
One of the dogs?
More teeth bit her scruff. Paws clutched at her flanks, heaving her upward.
She felt the strong, gentle movement of cats around her. Was StarClan carrying her to its hunting grounds?
Barely conscious, she let herself be dragged through the water until pebbles scraped her flank and she felt solid earth beneath her. Paws and teeth heaved her up the gritty shore and laid her on soft grass. Her chest felt as if it were packed with stones, making each breath a struggle. Her eyes stung, too filled with water to see.
“Bluestar?”
She recognized the mew of Mistyfoot. What about Stonefur? Is he here, too?
“We’re both here.” A strong paw pressed against her flank.
Oakheart had been right. Their kits had been waiting for her.
Bluestar fought to open her eyes. She could just make out the shape of Stonefur. His wide shoulders were silhouetted against the green canopy of trees. So much like his father. Mistyfoot stood beside him, her sodden pelt clinging to her frame.
Bluestar felt breath on her cheek.
“Is she okay?” came the voice of her daughter.
Fireheart was leaning in. “Bluestar, it’s Fireheart. You’re all right now. You’re safe.”
Bluestar hardly heard him. She was gazing at her kits. “You saved me,” she murmured.
“Shhh. Don’t try to talk,” Mistyfoot urged.
But there’s so much to say! Bluestar stretched her muzzle forward. “I want to tell you something… I want to ask you to forgive me for sending you away.” As she coughed, water bubbled at her lips, but she forced herself to keep going. “Oakheart promised me Graypool would be a good mother to you.”
“She was,” Stonefur meowed flatly.
Bluestar flinched. “I owe her so much.” She wished she had more breath to explain. “Oakheart, too, for mentoring you so well.” Why hadn’t she found a way to tell them this before? “I watched you as you grew up, and I saw how much you had to give to the Clan who adopted you. If I had made a different choice, you would have given all your strength to ThunderClan.” She shuddered, struggling for air. “Forgive me.”
She stared at her kits, and time seemed to halt as she watched Mistyfoot and Stonefur exchange an uncertain glance. Please forgive me.
“She suffered a lot of pain for her choice,” Fireheart pleaded for her. “Please forgive her.”
Stop it! Forgiveness would mean nothing if it had to be dragged from them. She willed Fireheart to hold his tongue.
Mistyfoot bent her head and licked Bluestar’s cheek. “We forgive you, Bluestar.”
“We forgive you,” Stonefur echoed.