Эрин Хантер - Path Of A Warrior

What does a kit your age know about death? Tawnypelt wondered, nuzzling him gently. “Don’t be silly,” she told him. “It’s just a bad dream.”

“I’m not sure … ,” Shadowkit mumbled. He seemed half-asleep again, his eyelids drooping, and she licked the top of his head.

“It’s all right,” she said soothingly. “Just rest.”

But when Shadowkit had fallen back asleep, Tawnypelt hurried out of the medicine cat’s den. Even if it had only been a dream, Tigerstar and Dovewing should know how agitated their kit had been.

Dovewing was waiting just outside. “What’s wrong?” she asked immediately. “Did something happen?”

“It’s okay,” Tawnypelt hurried to reassure her. “Shadowkit woke up for a moment, but what he said was just nonsense—something about falling, and something he had to do. He fell back asleep, but I wanted to tell you he was upset.”

Dovewing’s eyes widened. “Tell me exactly what he said.”

Tawnypelt told her, Dovewing looking more alarmed at every word. “I’m sure it was just a bad dream,” Tawnypelt said at last, but Dovewing shook her head.

“I think it was a vision,” she declared. “Tigerstar told you about the visions Shadowkit had on our journey back to the lake.”

“He said you all thought he was having visions,” Tawnypelt meowed cautiously. Tigerstar hadn’t told her much, just that they thought Shadowkit saw things most kits didn’t. And what Shadowkit had just experienced looked like a nightmare, not like the vision of any medicine cat Tawnypelt had ever heard of.

Dovewing shook her head. “Trust me. It was more than that.”

She looked like she was about to say more, when a sharp, distressed cry—the wail of a kit in pain—came from the medicine cat’s den.

They raced in to find Shadowkit writhing in his nest, his whole small body shaking violently, his eyes rolled back so that only the whites showed through their half-closed lids.

“Puddleshine!” Tawnypelt yowled. The medicine cat was still sleeping. He’d probably perfected the art of catching whatever sleep he could, whenever he could. With no time to spare, she and Dovewing tried to hold Shadowkit still with their front paws. The kit’s thrashing body felt disturbingly rigid under Tawnypelt’s paws.

“It’s falling!” the kit screeched. “It’s falling!”

Though she kept her eyes on Shadowkit, Tawnypelt could hear Puddleshine jump up from his nest and rush over. He pulled up beside Tawnypelt just as Shadowkit abruptly stilled.

“Shadowkit,” the medicine cat mewed, his voice soft. “Can you hear me?”

The kit didn’t answer. His sides were moving up and down rapidly as he panted. The whites of his eyes were no longer showing, but his gaze was glassy.

Tawnypelt looked at Dovewing. Her mouth was open, but she looked relieved—Tawnypelt guessed she’d seen this happen before.

Puddleshine looked up at Tawnypelt, his expression matter-of-fact. “Would you get some wet moss, please?”

Tawnypelt hesitated for a heartbeat, not wanting to leave the suddenly frail-seeming kit, but then ran. She raced past the guard at the camp entrance to the pond near camp, and made her way back to the medicine cat’s den as quickly as she could. When she returned, Tigerstar had joined the group in the medicine cat’s den, and was pressed as closely as possible against Dovewing. Both parents stared at their kit, but Tigerstar’s gaze looked more troubled than his mate’s.

Shadowkit still seemed dazed, but his breathing had slowed to normal. Puddleshine took the moss between his teeth and gently wiped the kit’s face. Shadowkit blinked and his eyes focused a little more.

“Can you hear me, Shadowkit?” Puddleshine asked again.

“Yes,” the kit said slowly, blinking a drop of water out of his eyes. “We have to help them,” he said, his voice quiet but full of fear. “They need us. It’s going to destroy them!”

“Who?” The medicine cat kept his voice soft and soothing. “What did you see?”

Shadowkit looked confused. “Other cats. There were … I don’t know. It was …” He shook his head, distressed. “I can’t remember !”

“It’s all right, Shadowkit,” Tigerstar mewed, touching his nose to the kit’s cheek.

“It’s not all right… . I was seeing all these things, and they were really important ! And now … now I just can’t remember—it’s all mixed up!” the kit wailed. “I’ll never be able to help if I can’t remember!”

“Right now, your job is to rest,” Puddleshine instructed the kit firmly, glancing at Tigerstar and Dovewing. “It seems like maybe you had a vision that overwhelmed you and made you lose control of your body. You can’t help any cat unless you take care of yourself.”

“Did it hurt when you had this vision?” Dovewing asked, her green eyes large with worry.

Shadowkit hesitated. “Not hurt, exactly … ,” he murmured. “It just felt … bigger and bigger and louder. Like something was pressing on the inside of my head. And then my body was moving, but all by itself, without me wanting it to, and I couldn’t think at all.”

Tawnypelt shivered. That sounded awful . “You were saying that we had to stop something that was falling.” What if this is a true vision? Puddleshine thinks so… . Are ShadowClan cats in danger?

Shadowkit stared intensely into space, concentrating, for a long moment. Then he gave a squeak of frustration. “I can’t remember anything !”

“Maybe it’ll come back to you,” Puddleshine soothed. “Give your mind a chance to rest.”

Shadowkit shifted unhappily. “I don’t remember, but I know it’s important ,” he meowed. “There’s something I have to do.”

“You have to take care of yourself before you can help any other cat,” Tigerstar said firmly, but Shadowkit’s tail slashed restlessly from side to side, his paws twitching with frustration.

“I’ll give him something to calm him,” Puddleshine suggested quietly, and hurried off to his herb stores, returning with a few tiny green leaves and setting them down in front of the kit. “This is thyme, Shadowkit. It’ll help you relax.”

As Shadowkit licked up the thyme, Tawnypelt asked quietly, “Puddleshine, what do you think this is? This fit he had. Have you ever seen anything like this before?”

The brown-and-white tom shook his head helplessly. “No,” he answered. “Have you? Ever?”

Tawnypelt sighed. Puddleshine’s a good medicine cat, but he’s so young . Suddenly she missed Littlecloud, the elderly medicine cat who had preceded Puddleshine, with a sharp pang. Maybe if Littlecloud were still alive, he might know of something that could help Shadowkit.

Or if Flametail were alive … She shut her eyes for a moment, pain washing over her. Tigerstar’s and Dawnpelt’s littermate, Flametail, had been a fine medicine cat, but he’d drowned, a horrible death, before Puddleshine had even been born. Littlecloud had never taken another apprentice before he died; Puddleshine had had to learn on his own, with help from other Clans’ medicine cats.

“No,” she mewed sadly. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Puddleshine gulped, looking between Dovewing, Tigerstar, and Tawnypelt, then led them to the far end of the den. “I know that you believe Shadowkit is meant to be a medicine cat,” he began, quietly enough that the kit wouldn’t be able to hear him. “But the way he was thrashing around in pain … even for a medicine cat, it’s not normal.”

Fear prickled along Tawnypelt’s spine. “You think there’s something wrong with Shadowkit.”

Tigerstar looked alarmed. “Is he sick?” he asked.