Эрин Хантер - Path Of A Warrior

Tawnypelt sucked in a breath. How dare he insult Rowanclaw? She glanced away to calm herself, but saw Shadowkit staring up at her, his eyes so like her mate’s. “I can’t believe you’d talk about your own kin—your father —like this,” she growled bitterly to Tigerstar. “Rowanclaw was dealt some harsh blows. The sickness, Darktail’s schemes”—she glanced around at the faces staring at her from out of the dens—“ betrayal by cats who should have followed him, but he loved his Clan. And he was fair to the cats who followed him. The way you won’t listen to me, or Dovewing, or even Leafpool about this—you’re acting like a tyrant, not a leader. It reminds me of another Tigerstar I once knew.”

Shock passed over Tigerstar’s face, and sour guilt curled in Tawnypelt’s stomach. That wasn’t fair—the first Tigerstar, her father, had nearly torn the Clans apart for the sake of his ambition. Her son would never be so cruel.

Before either of them could speak, Dovewing stepped between them. “Tawnypelt’s right.”

Tigerstar looked stunned, and she spoke again, quickly. “Not about you, Tigerstar, but about Shadowkit.” She gazed up at him confidently. “I’ve been thinking, and the more I think, the surer I am that Shadowkit’s vision is of the Tribe of Rushing Water. If StarClan is sending him such strong visions that they’re making him sick, then we have to go. It’s the only way he can get better.”

“What?” Tigerstar looked betrayed. “ No! I’m the leader of this Clan, and he is my kit—”

But Dovewing cut him off. She slipped past him, joining Tawnypelt at Shadowkit’s side. “He’s my kit, too, Tigerstar,” she said angrily, “and I’m going with them. I know this is right. I can’t stay here and watch Shadowkit suffer.” She leaned toward Tigerstar, but he just watched her, his eyes cold. Dovewing pulled away, but she went on, “We will come back and Shadowkit will be better. I’m sure of it.”

Tigerstar glared at her. Dovewing turned to Tawnypelt, her gaze uncertain, but Tawnypelt nodded wordlessly. We both know this is right. Dovewing nodded back, took in a breath, and seemed to regain her confidence. Together, they turned and walked away, Shadowkit between them. Tawnypelt could feel the eyes of the whole Clan watching her.

We should bring more warriors with us, she thought fleetingly . It’s leaf-bare, and the travel will be treacherous, and Shadowkit is unwell … but who would defy Tigerstar to join us now?

“Don’t worry, Tigerstar,” Shadowkit called back earnestly, keeping pace with the she-cats. “It’ll all be okay. This is what’s supposed to happen.”

Tawnypelt desperately hoped he was right.

Chapter Five

The chill morning breeze ruffled Tawnypelt’s fur, and she shivered, her eyes still closed against the sunlight. She and Dovewing and Shadowkit had fallen asleep curled together, as they’d done the last two nights, but now she could feel that she was alone.

Without opening her eyes, she cocked an ear, listening for them. She heard the soft pad of paws on grass and Shadowkit saying, not far away, “But why does it live underground?”

Tawnypelt’s whiskers twitched. It was one of the things she had liked best about her own kits at that age: their wide-eyed questioning of the world, always wanting to know why things were the way they were.

“Well,” Dovewing answered quietly, “I guess voles live underground because they can keep warm there, and be protected from other animals who want to eat them.”

“Like us!” Shadowkit cried.

Purring with amusement, Tawnypelt opened her eyes, then climbed to her feet and stretched. Dovewing was now trying to explain to Shadowkit why cats didn’t live underground, and finding it difficult. She’s a good mother, Tawnypelt thought. Patient, and she takes Shadowkit’s questions seriously. It surprised her a little; she’d spent a lot of time thinking of Dovewing as the careless cat who’d run away from the Clans and made Tigerheart chase after her. Maybe she’s not so careless after all.

Dovewing had been very careful of Shadowkit on the two days of their journey so far, watching out for danger, making sure the kit ate and rested as much as he needed to, helping him over difficult terrain. Tawnypelt could see how precious Shadowkit was to Dovewing.

But gazing up at the craggy gray mountain ahead, Tawnypelt saw snow high on its peaks. It hasn’t been an easy journey so far … and it will only get worse. When they left these grassy foothills and moved on to the cold stone of the mountain, the true danger would arise.

It would be easier if we had more warriors with us, Tawnypelt thought with fresh regret . If she hadn’t acted so impulsively, perhaps she and Dovewing could have united to argue calmly with Tigerstar, and set out with a proper patrol, instead of storming off with Shadowkit in the middle of the night. But it’s too late now, she thought, shaking dust from her pelt . I just have to believe that Shadowkit is right—it was meant to happen this way. And we’ll be fine.

Shadowkit and Dovewing were in a sunny patch of grass, closer to where the mountain slopes rose above them. Tawnypelt padded toward them, and Shadowkit greeted her with a purr.

“We saved you a vole,” Dovewing mewed, and Tawnypelt settled beside them and sank her teeth into the prey. She eyed Dovewing, trying to think of what to say; she still felt a little awkward around the other cat.

“We went hunting before you got up!” Shadowkit announced, breaking the silence. “I helped catch that vole!”

“He certainly did,” Dovewing agreed. “He chased it right toward me.”

The kit puffed out his chest with pride, and Tawnypelt mewed affectionately, “You’ll be a good hunter one day.”

Shadowkit’s eyes widened earnestly. “I’m going to be a medicine cat, though,” he replied.

Tawnypelt’s eyes met Dovewing’s and they both purred with laughter, the stiffness between them disappearing. “We know, kit,” Dovewing chuckled, brushing her tail over his back.

“Even a medicine cat should know how to hunt, though,” Tawnypelt added. “You might get hungry while you’re looking for herbs.”

“I could track prey through the grass like this,” Shadowkit said, getting to his paws. He crouched low and waggled his hindquarters, ready to pounce. Both she-cats purred with laughter again, and Dovewing began to move her tail slowly through the grass for him to stalk.

“How much longer do you think it will be until we get to the Tribe?” Tawnypelt asked as they watched Shadowkit wiggling through the grass, his eyes fixed on Dovewing’s tail.

“Another day or two?” Dovewing guessed. “We’ll have to be careful of Shadowkit on the way. The mountain paths are so narrow.”

Tawnypelt shuddered, imagining Shadowkit slipping and falling from a crag, or down into a crevice between mountain boulders. “We’ll keep him between us,” she suggested. “We’ll go slowly over any slippery patches. By being slow and cautious, we can keep ourselves safe.” Dovewing nodded, but Tawnypelt could see the doubt in her eyes.

This would be a dangerous journey for a group of warriors—but for two warriors and an unwell kit?

“We should hunt again before we start,” Dovewing mewed finally. “The mountain prey—”

She broke off as Shadowkit gave a small, hurt noise and collapsed onto his belly in the grass.

Both she-cats jumped up and rushed to him as the kit began to convulse, his paws drumming against the ground, his body shaking.