Crookedstar’s Promise полностью

The hardness in his brother’s mew turned Crookedjaw’s blood cold. Had he made the wrong decision? He closed his eyes. No! I promised to save my Clan, and that’s what I did! Rainflower was dead. She was definitely dead.

Wasn’t she?

Crookedjaw blinked open his eyes. Oakheart was racing away under the fence and into the willows. Crookedjaw headed after him, skidding down the slope and bursting on to the shore.

Oakheart was crouching beside Rainflower. Her eyes had clouded. Blood stained the rocks around her head. “She’s dead.” Oakheart turned and stared at Crookedjaw. “Our mother is dead.”

Rainflower’s body lay stiff in the moonlight. Oakheart had dragged it to the clearing, warning Crookedjaw away with a snarl each time he’d tried to help. Crookedjaw crouched outside his den and watched his Clanmates file past his mother.

Echomist touched her nose to Rainflower’s pelt. “You were a loyal warrior.”

Piketooth leaned down to her ear. “We’ll miss you.”

Crookedjaw’s eyes stung. Now he’d never have a chance to make Rainflower proud of him. Pain jabbed his heart like thorns.

Oakheart sat on the far side of the clearing, Petaldust and Voleclaw pressing close. Oakheart stared ahead as Shimmerpelt padded away from Rainflower’s body and murmured something to him. Timberfur dipped his head in respect to the grief-stricken warrior.

Anger flashed through Crookedjaw. Rainflower loved Oakheart more than she had ever loved Crookedjaw. Well, let them fuss. Crookedjaw turned his head away. I don’t care. His heart twisted in his chest.

“It’s okay.” Willowbreeze walked away from the body and settled beside Crookedjaw. She leaned into him gently. “She’ll be watching over you from StarClan.”

Crookedjaw swallowed back a wail of grief. Would she care that much?

“You were very brave,” Willowbreeze told him. “Facing that dog and leading him out of the territory.”

I should have been saving my mother. The thought pounded in his head but he couldn’t bring himself to share it, even with Willowbreeze.

As the Clan melted into the edges of the camp, Shellheart emerged from beneath the willow. His eyes glazed as he stared at the mate he’d turned his back on. Crookedjaw could see the pain in them, and realized that Shellheart had never stopped loving her. The RiverClan deputy settled stiffly beside Rainflower and closed his eyes. He looked old. Crookedjaw blinked. He’d never noticed that his father’s pelt was growing ragged and gray whiskers had begun to speckle his muzzle.

Oakheart slid out from between Petaldust and Voleclaw and joined his father. He touched Shellheart’s head with his cheek, then settled beside him and pressed his nose into Rainflower’s matted pelt. Clouds covered the moon, draping the three silent figures in shadow. Crookedjaw tucked his paws tighter beneath him and closed his eyes.

I’m sorry. Was Rainflower in StarClan by now, listening to him? I shouldn’t have left you on the shore. I should have fought the dog and saved you. Would Mapleshade explain it to her? He felt a rush of hope, but grief washed it away instantly. I’m sorry for everything, Rainflower—for sneaking out of camp and breaking my jaw; for letting you die. I’ve missed you so much. I wish I could have gotten you to forgive me. He snapped open his eyes and stared up at Silverpelt. “Please forgive me,” he whispered.

Willowbreeze turned her head and licked his cheek. They slept curled up together in the warm greenleaf breeze, at the edge of the clearing. The sound of paws scuffing the sun-hardened ground woke Crookedjaw. Dawn lit the camp. The elders were taking away Rainflower’s body for burial. Shellheart and Oakheart watched, their eyes bleary with tiredness and grief. As Birdsong and Troutclaw lifted the body onto Tanglewhisker’s wide, graying back, Oakheart trailed to his den and disappeared inside. Shellheart ducked in beside Tanglewhisker, sharing the weight of the body.

Brambleberry slipped from her den, dipping her head as the burial party passed. She crossed the clearing and stopped in front of Crookedjaw. He got to his paws, careful not to disturb Willowbreeze, who was still dozing beside him.

“She didn’t suffer,” Brambleberry murmured. “The wound to her head would have knocked her unconscious. She wouldn’t have known what was happening.”

Crookedjaw hung his head. “You’re just trying to comfort me.”

“No!” Brambleberry stepped back. “I wouldn’t lie!”

Crookedjaw winced. Now he’d hurt her feelings. Why couldn’t he say or do anything right? “I—I’m just—”