Эрин Хантер - The Silent Thaw

“Really?” she looked surprised. “I thought you’d be training for moons yet.”

“It might be any day.” Rootpaw’s pelt ruffled hotly along his spine. Did she think he was too young to become a warrior, or just mouse-brained?

She shifted her paws. “I mean,” she corrected herself, suddenly self-conscious, “it seems so quick. I feel like I’ve only just gotten my warrior name.”

“Maybe other Clans train their apprentices differently,” he suggested. “But in SkyClan you don’t have to be an apprentice to learn. Warriors learn new skills all the time.”

“I guess.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “Like, the other day, Blossomfall taught me how to track birds from the forest floor. I’d never tried it before. Have you?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she began to explain. “You have to choose a bird and keep your eye on it. You can’t stop watching for a moment. One blink and you could lose it among the leaves.”

Rootpaw guessed she was just trying to be nice, but he didn’t like being told something he knew already. “We track birds a lot in SkyClan.”

“Really?” Bristlefrost didn’t seem to hear him. Her attention had flitted to the Great Oak, where the leaders were scrambling onto the lowest branch. “I’d better go,” she mewed. “Bramblestar’s announcing Thriftear’s and Flipclaw’s warrior names. I want to be the first to yowl them out.” Before he could say good-bye, she slipped into the crowd and disappeared.

Feeling unsatisfied, Rootpaw nosed his way between his Clanmates. He hadn’t said anything clever or funny, but nor had Bristlefrost. Perhaps he didn’t like her as much as he used to. It was for the best; after all, they were from different Clans.

Tree and Violetshine were at the edge of the clearing with Sandynose and Plumwillow. Rootpaw settled between them as Needlepaw arrived. When she reached Rootpaw, she was out of breath. “The new apprentices are called Myrtlepaw and Baypaw,” she whispered. “Aren’t ThunderClan names strange?”

“No stranger than Needlepaw.” Rootpaw blinked at her.

Needlepaw looked worried. “Do you think Needlepaw is a strange name?”

“Of course not.” He nudged her. “I was just teasing.”

“Hush.” Violetshine swished her tail at her kits and looked up at the oak.

Tigerstar had stepped to the edge of the branch. “Puddleshine’s apprentice has received his medicine-cat name.” His mew rang out over the gathered cats. “From now on, he will be known as Shadowsight.”

“Shadowsight!” The ShadowClan warriors chanted his name proudly. Kestrelflight, Alderheart, and Jayfeather joined in as Shadowsight shifted self-consciously beside them.

Rootpaw caught Shadowsight’s eye and nodded. He’d met the medicine cat a few times in the forest, and he liked him. He seemed less intimidating than the older medicine cats.

As the yowling died away, Tigerstar went on. “Prey is beginning to return after the long leaf-bare. We will have full bellies within a moon.” He looked toward Bramblestar as though inviting the ThunderClan leader to speak next.

Bramblestar bowed his head. “We have new warriors,” he told the gathered cats. His gaze flitted toward his Clanmates, crowding at the far edge of the clearing. “Thriftear and Flipclaw passed their assessment. It won’t be long before they’re leading their own patrols.” His gaze settled on Bristlefrost for a moment. “In ThunderClan, we believe in encouraging our younger warriors to take on new and challenging responsibilities as soon as they’re able.”

Bristlefrost glanced shyly at her paws.

Has she been given special duties? Rootpaw narrowed his eyes. Perhaps that was why she’d seemed distracted. His old affection for her filled his heart once again. How could he forget that she’d pulled him out of the frozen lake two moons ago and saved him from drowning? As he watched her, a familiar shape moved behind the ThunderClan cats. His heart sank as he recognized the shimmering outline, pale against the forest behind. Bramblestar’s ghost. He jerked his muzzle back to the real Bramblestar, who was still speaking from the Great Oak.

“Our two new ’paws will soon be warriors,” he told the Gathering confidently. “And ThunderClan will be stronger than ever.”

Mistystar stepped forward. “RiverClan is strong too.” Rootpaw looked away as she began to address the Clans. How could he concentrate on what they were saying when the ghost of a living cat was skulking at the edge of the clearing? He tried not to look at the apparition. He’d been avoiding its eye since the first time he’d seen it, pretending as hard as he could that he was as unaware of its presence as his Clanmates. He could see ghostly Bramblestar now, pacing impatiently, like a loner trapped in a kittypet den, his gaze flashing from the leaders to the warriors. Was it hoping some cat here would see it?

I know how you feel. Rootpaw scanned the gathered cats. Were any of them looking at Bramblestar’s ghost? He glanced at Tree. Could his father see it? He hesitated. But Bramblestar wasn’t dead. He was staring at the Gathering from the Great Oak. Rootpaw blinked hopefully at the medicine cats. Perhaps they could see the ghost? But their gazes were fixed on the leaders, unaware that anything was wrong.

“Rootpaw!” Violetshine hissed in his ear. “Stop staring around the clearing and concentrate. This is a Gathering. You need to pay attention.” She nudged him sharply, and he dragged his gaze back to the Great Oak. Harestar was looking toward the medicine cats, lined beneath the branch. “Kestrelflight joined the other medicine cats for the half-moon meeting at the Moonpool.” The WindClan leader’s eyes glittered with worry as he looked expectantly at the mottled gray tom. “He wants to tell you what they saw.”

Kestrelflight glanced at Frecklewish and Alderheart before he spoke. “The Moonpool has begun to thaw,” he reported. “We expected to be able to share with StarClan.” His ears twitched uncertainly. “But there was no word from them.”

“Was there no vision at all?” Tawnypelt blinked from among the ShadowClan cats.

“We thought it was the ice that stopped you seeing StarClan!” Hootwhisker yowled, the fur rising along his spine. His Clanmates exchanged nervous glances.

Kestrelflight shrugged. “Perhaps they have nothing to share with us,” he suggested.

Alderheart shifted beside him. “We’ve made it through leaf-bare,” he agreed. “If there’s no threat to the Clans, why would StarClan want to share with us?”

Hopeful murmurs of agreement rippled among the warriors.

“No news is good news,” Sandynose meowed loudly.

“Perhaps they want to see if we can manage without them,” Snowbird suggested.

“Why would they do that?” Tawnypelt looked unconvinced. “They’ve always shared with us in the past. Why would they suddenly stop?”

In the uneasy silence that followed, Bramblestar frowned. “Has Shadowsight heard anything?”

“None of us have,” Kestrelflight told him.

“But Shadowsight has a special connection with StarClan,” Bramblestar pressed. “He was the only medicine cat who shared with them during leaf-bare.” His gaze fixed on the young ShadowClan medicine cat. “Are you sure you’ve heard nothing?”

Shadowsight stared at his paws, his fur pricking around his shoulders. “I’m sure,” he mumbled.

Bramblestar swept his gaze around the Clans. “Perhaps StarClan is angry at us for not following the code.”

Rootpaw stiffened as the gathered cats swapped uneasy glances. Not this again. Bramblestar had mentioned the code at the last Gathering too. His suggestion that cats should accuse one another of crimes against the code had made Tree wonder about leaving the Clans. Did the other Clans think the ThunderClan leader was right?