Эрин Хантер - Path Of A Warrior

Tigerstar stared back and forth between them, his tail slashing through the air. Finally, he shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’m the leader of this Clan, and Shadowkit is my son. StarClan gave him the knowledge to bring him here , and they won’t abandon him now. He’ll stay in ShadowClan, where he belongs.”

Chapter Four

Twigs were poking into Tawnypelt’s sides. She’d never noticed before how uncomfortable a nest could be. I was so used to having Rowanclaw to cushion me. The moss and pine needles that now did that job were useless tonight. Grunting, she rolled over, trying to find a more restful position. Was Shadowkit sleeping in the medicine cat’s den? Surely there would be some sound if he was ill again. She remembered the rigid flailing of his limbs, his rapid panting, and rolled over again, trying to push the image away.

“For StarClan’s sake, Tawnypelt!” Juniperclaw yowled from the next nest. “If you can’t sleep, maybe try taking a walk? You’re keeping every warrior in the den awake!”

“Remember how we all slept away from each other in the Twoleg den, Slatefur?” Cloverfoot meowed pointedly. “I miss that sometimes.”

“Fine,” Tawnypelt got to her feet, shaking pine needles from her fur. “But if you liked the Twoleg den so much, Cloverfoot, maybe you should go back there. You’re supposed to be a ShadowClan cat now.”

Before Cloverfoot could spit a reply, Tawnypelt stalked out of the den. Outside, she shivered in the night air, looking up at the clear light of the almost-full moon. Already, she regretted losing her temper in the warriors’ den. Tigerstar was right: She was easily irritated these days.

But I can’t stand what ShadowClan has become. A squabbling group of cats who she didn’t know, or who had fought against her and Rowanclaw, when they had just wanted to keep their Clan together.

A sharp pang of loss shot through her, and she suddenly missed Rowanclaw more than ever. Rowanclaw—when he was Rowan star —would have listened to her about Shadowkit and the Tribe of Rushing Water. He had always taken Tawnypelt seriously, listened to her opinions about problems in the Clan. But no cat in ShadowClan cared what she thought now.

She knew that Shadowkit had to get to the Tribe. StarClan was sending him these visions for a reason, and they wouldn’t stop until he did what they wanted. Shadowkit could help the Tribe, and maybe they could help him. But Tigerstar wouldn’t listen to her.

Some cat needs to do what needs to be done. Tawnypelt licked her paw thoughtfully, shocked at her own idea. She could take Shadowkit, right now, and sneak out of ShadowClan camp in the night. No cat would be able to stop her.

Tigerstar would be furious. But when she brought Shadowkit back to him, cured, he would forgive her. He would be grateful, even, because she would have saved his kit.

Could she do it, though?

Something brushed against her fur. There was a familiar musky scent in the air, and a breeze blew through her fur, carrying, almost too soft to be heard, a voice.

You’re on the right path.

Tawnypelt jumped, spinning to look around her, but the clearing was deserted. Just for a moment, she had heard Rowanclaw. Her heart ached, a dull pain deep in her chest. Had she really heard him, or had she imagined it?

If I really heard him … if he encouraged me from StarClan … then I would know that my plan is the right one.

It was Rowanstar. Tawnypelt was sure of it.

Slinking from shadow to shadow as quietly as if she were stalking prey, she crossed the camp and crept into the medicine cat’s den. Glancing across to Puddleshine’s nest, she saw the medicine cat fast asleep, curled up with his tail laid across his nose. Shadowkit was in his own nest, snuggled into a ball of kitten fluff.

Gently, she lifted him by the nape of the neck and carried him outside. As they stepped out into the cold air, he began to stir, and she lowered him to the ground. His eyes were open, and he blinked peacefully up at her. “Hi, Tawnypelt,” he mewed softly. “What’s going on?”

She looked down at him, affection swelling in her chest. “We’re going to have an adventure,” she whispered. “Just you and me.”

Shadowkit’s ears perked with excitement. “Are you taking me to the place from my vision?”

If he’s so happy to go, he must know this is what StarClan wants. Tawnypelt touched her muzzle to the top of the kit’s head. “Exactly,” she told him. “But we’ll have to be very quiet and careful. Strikestone is guarding the entrance to camp, and he’ll stop us if he sees us. But we can sneak out the tunnel to the dirtplace and leave without any cat noticing.”

“Okay,” Shadowkit said. He got up and trotted beside Tawnypelt toward the tunnel, his side pressed trustingly against hers.

They were almost there when a cry came from behind them. “No!”

Tawnypelt whipped around. Dovewing was outside the nursery, her face twisted with horror.

“It’s all right,” Tawnypelt hissed desperately. She didn’t want to hurt Dovewing, but this had to happen. “I’m taking him to the Tribe! It’s for Shadowkit’s own good! I’ll take care of him, I promise.”

Dovewing took a few steps toward them and then slowed, her tail waving uncertainly.

With a thump of running feet, Tigerstar charged out of his den. “Dovewing?” he asked, breathless. “I heard you… . What’s going on?”

Tawnypelt watched him take in the sight of her and Shadowkit standing together, close to the tunnel out of camp. She was sure she looked guilty, and Tigerstar’s expression changed, his expression moving from confusion to anger.

He charged forward, so fast that Tawnypelt flinched backward and Shadowkit pressed against her legs. Tigerstar’s snarl was louder than she’d ever heard it. “Are you … you’re just taking him?”

Holding her ground, Tawnypelt glared back at her son. “I’m doing what StarClan wants. This is the only way to help Shadowkit, and you won’t be reasonable!”

“Reasonable?” Tigerstar’s fur bristled. “You’re stealing my kit!”

Agitated whispers came from behind her, and Tawnypelt looked around. Slatefur was staring out of the warriors’ den, eyes wide, other faces peering past him from inside, trying to get a better look. Berryheart and Yarrowleaf were at the mouth of the nursery, behind Dovewing, their expressions alarmed. The cats of the new ShadowClan, watching her, silent and shocked.

Hot rage rose up inside her. “This is the right thing to do,” she hissed. “You wouldn’t listen. You never listen to me now. You made me your deputy, but you won’t let me be your deputy.”

“That’s not true,” Tigerstar tried to interrupt, but Tawnypelt went on. It felt good, in a mean, poisonous kind of way, to finally say all the worst things she had been thinking.

“All you care about now is Dovewing and your kits, and these strange cats you’ve brought back from outside the Clans,” she growled accusingly. “And your own power, of course. You love being in charge.”

Tigerstar’s tail was whipping back and forth furiously. “In charge ? It’s impossible to be in charge with you around, Tawnypelt,” he growled. “You’re stubborn; you argue with everything I ask you to do; you’re rude to any cat who wasn’t born in ShadowClan. The Clan has changed, but you won’t change with it.” He paused and sighed, his yowl calming a little. “The old ShadowClan didn’t work. I loved Rowanclaw, but the Clan died when he was leader, and I’m trying to bring it back. It’s hard, and you’re making it harder by working against me.”