Эрин Хантер - The Raging Storm

“The border!” Alarm sparked beneath her pelt. If they crossed into ShadowClan territory, they could make the situation worse. “Stop!”

Tree pulled up a tail-length from the scent line. He tasted the air, his pelt pricking in surprise. “I didn’t realize we were so close.”

“Couldn’t you smell it?”

“Not till now.” Tree whisked his tail. “I’m still learning the different Clan scents. All Clan cats smell the same to me.”

“But you knew the border was here, right?” She knew her Clan’s borders with her eyes closed.

“I do now.”

“I guess you haven’t been on many patrols like I have.” She glanced at him. “Maybe you should start going on them.” If he joined in with Clan patrols, her Clanmates might accept him more easily.

He shrugged. “I guess. But it seems a lot of effort. It’s like you’re looking for trouble. I always think you should wait to see if trouble finds you, not go searching for it.”

“It does no harm to be prepared.” Would Tree ever settle into Clan life? With a jolt, Violetshine wondered if he even intended to. Perhaps he was just staying with SkyClan temporarily before he moved on to somewhere new. The thought sent hedgehog prickles through her heart. Should she ask him what his intentions were? She glanced at her paws, feeling hot. He might make fun of her for caring.

“Look.” His hushed mew made her lift her head. She followed his gaze. Cloverfoot, a ShadowClan warrior, was padding between the brambles on the other side of the border. The gray tabby’s gaze flitted intently from one bush to another. Her ears were pricked expectantly. She was clearly looking for prey.

Tree turned his gaze to Violetshine. “I told Hawkwing that the best prey is always closer to the lake. But he said that in newleaf prey is good everywhere.” He spoke loudly; Violetshine guessed that he was trying to attract Cloverfoot’s attention.

“It’s better in greenleaf.” She matched his tone, glancing at Cloverfoot. The ShadowClan warrior had heard them and was heading toward the border.

“Why are you yowling so loudly?” she growled across the scent line. “I’m trying to hunt. You’ll scare the prey away.”

Tree turned to her, his eyes wide with innocence. “I’m sorry.” He sounded contrite. “If I’d seen you I’d have kept my voice down.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Violetshine mumbled.

Tree gazed admiringly at the ShadowClan warrior as though he were unaware of her bristling fur. “I doubt a warrior as fit as you will have any trouble catching prey. We’ll leave you in peace. Sorry for the disturbance.” He turned to walk away, then paused. “Prey must be running well in ShadowClan, too,” he mewed breezily. “Our fresh-kill pile is so well-stocked that our apprentices grow faster than nettles.”

Cloverfoot swished her tail. “We’ve got plenty of prey.”

“Good.” Tree blinked at her. “Is ShadowClan doing okay? It must be good to be back in your real home.”

“It is.” Cloverfoot’s fur smoothed. “We’ve rebuilt the dens and reinforced the barrier wall. The camp is better than ever.”

Tree was gazing eagerly at Cloverfoot, his ears pricked as though he relished her every word. Violetshine felt a twinge of jealousy. “Tigerstar seems like a good leader,” Tree purred.

Cloverfoot puffed out her chest. “He’s a great leader.”

“Tougher than his father, eh?”

“Much tougher than Rowanclaw. All the cats respect him. He makes sure everyone’s belly is full, that the camp is kept in order, and that the apprentices are getting proper training. He says ShadowClan will be great again. We were strong in the past and we’ll be strong in the future.”

“That must be good to hear after all ShadowClan has been through.” Tree rounded his eyes sympathetically.

“It feels right,” Cloverfoot purred.

“Hawkwing says you’re keeping the borders well-marked,” Tree mewed. “He says strong borders make strong neighbors.” He caught Violetshine’s eye as though prompting her.

She hesitated. What did he want her to say? “It’s hard to stray across a well-marked border,” she mewed uncertainly. Had she guessed right?

“I guess.” Cloverfoot tipped her head, as though wondering what Violetshine was getting at.

Tree changed the subject quickly. “How are the cats from the Twolegplace settling in? It must be a big change for them.”

“They love warrior life. Especially Blazepaw. It’s like he was born to be a warrior.” Cloverfoot’s eyes shone as she spoke of him.

“They must find it hard getting used to all the new scents,” Violetshine chimed in. “Border scents, for example. They must be confused by all the scent markers.”

Suspicion flashed in Cloverfoot’s eye. “They seem to do okay.”

Tree scratched his ear nonchalantly. “I was just saying to Violetshine how hard I still find it to spot borders. I nearly ran across this one without noticing it. Fortunately, Violetshine called out to me in time. I know Clan cats take border crossing very seriously.” He met Cloverfoot’s gaze, suddenly earnest. “No ShadowClan cat would want to cross into another Clan’s territory if they didn’t have to, would they?”

“No.” Cloverfoot stared at him, her eyes glittering with sudden distrust. She backed away. “I’d better get back to hunting. I promised Blazepaw I’d bring him a shrew if I could find one.” She turned away and disappeared between the brambles.

Violetshine looked at Tree anxiously. “Did we give too much away?” ShadowClan wasn’t supposed to realize they knew about the border crossing. Had they been too heavy-pawed?

Tree lifted his tail. “I think we gave away just the right amount.” He headed back toward camp. “We know that Tigerstar is a strong leader, and that he has plans for ShadowClan. We had to let him know that we found ShadowClan scent on our land, without directly accusing him of anything. He should know that SkyClan won’t be caught off guard.”

Violetshine hurried after him. “Do you think ShadowClan is a threat?”

Tree hesitated. His silence made her paws prick with foreboding. Then he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I don’t know. But SkyClan must face the future with open eyes.”

CHAPTER 3

Alderheart sat down heavily beside Puddleshine’s nest. Two sunrises had passed since Bramblestar’s patrol had carried the ShadowClan cat to ThunderClan’s medicine den, and he had not improved. He frowned. Puddleshine was sick. Many of his wounds were still infected despite the careful cleaning and the marigold poultices Alderheart had applied day and night. It made no sense.

“I can’t seem to clear the infection,” he murmured.

Puddleshine lifted his head stiffly and blinked at him, his eyes clouded with pain. “You’ve treated my wounds the same way I would have. I don’t know why they’re not healing, either.”

“How is the pain today?”

“The poppy seeds you gave me have eased it a little.”

Alderheart touched his nose to Puddleshine’s ear. Heat pulsed from it. “You’re running a fever too.”

“It must be the infection,” Puddleshine mewed.

“Perhaps you have some other illness that is making you vulnerable to the infection. You smell weird.”

“I felt fine before I got tangled in the silverthorn.” Puddleshine’s eyes darkened. “How could I have been so foolish? I should have stayed clear.”

“There’s no point growling about it.” Alderheart was more concerned with dealing with Puddleshine’s wounds than with worrying how he got them. “Do you have any other symptoms? A sore throat? A bellyache?”