Эрин Хантер - The Silent Thaw

Could that be why Bramblestar’s ghost was here now? Had StarClan somehow sent the ghost of his first life to support the living leader’s message? Should I tell some cat? Rootpaw’s pads tingled nervously. There was no way he was telling any cat he could see dead cats. He wasn’t weird like Tree. He glanced at the apparition, wishing it would go away.

The dead Bramblestar was staring at the living Bramblestar, his ghostly pelt spiked with fury. Why was he angry? Wasn’t he relieved to see he still had a body to return to? And yet how could he return to his body, when he was already in it? Rootpaw’s head began to ache. This was too confusing. He glanced again at the medicine cats. They were trying to contact StarClan, and here was a ghost, walking among them. Surely one of them must see him!

He stiffened. Alderheart was staring at the apparition. Could he see it? Rootpaw leaned forward eagerly. Why not? Bramblestar was his father. The ThunderClan medicine cat must have a closer connection with the ghost than any cat. Leaves fluttered suddenly from a branch above Bramblestar’s ghost. Rootpaw glimpsed gray fur as a squirrel raced along it and disappeared up the trunk. His heart dropped like a stone as he saw Alderheart’s gaze flash after the squirrel. He was watching prey ! Dismayed, Rootpaw swallowed back a sigh. I’m really the only cat who can see it.

Feeling suddenly alone, Rootpaw stared at the gathered cats. Why me? It’s not fair.

“That’s nonsense!” Dovewing’s angry mew made him jerk his muzzle toward her. Had he spoken out loud? The ShadowClan cat was staring indignantly at the real Bramblestar. “StarClan would never choose to turn their tails on us,” she called. “Something must be stopping them from making contact.”

“Well, it’s not ice that’s silencing them,” Jayfeather grunted. “The Moonpool is thawing.”

Bramblestar stared fiercely back at Dovewing from the Oak. “You just don’t want to believe that StarClan is angry with us for breaking the code,” he snapped. “Because you’re one of the cats who broke it.”

Tigerstar bristled beside the ThunderClan leader. “Don’t talk to her like that—”

Mistystar stepped between them. “Getting angry won’t help.”

Bramblestar puffed out his chest. “If we’d gotten angry earlier, we wouldn’t have so many codebreakers in the Clans.” His accusing gaze swept around the cats below him. “And StarClan might still be speaking to us.”

As the gathered cats glanced nervously at each other, Crowfeather flattened his ears. “Do you really think StarClan wants us to start throwing around accusations? They want peace in the Clans, not arguments.”

Bramblestar growled. His gaze flashed to the WindClan deputy. “You’re just another codebreaker in denial about what’s really going on!”

Shocked mews sounded from WindClan. ShadowClan cats were exchanging anxious looks. Rootpaw shifted closer to Needlepaw. Why was Bramblestar upsetting every cat? What made him so sure that StarClan was angry with them?

Bramblestar’s gaze gleamed with determination. “StarClan is silent for a reason. It’s perfectly clear to me what we have to do to bring them back. We must make sure the warrior code is respected and upheld.”

As he spoke, ghostly fur flickered at the edge of Rootpaw’s vision. Alarmed, he jerked his gaze toward it. Bramblestar’s ghost was moving fast toward the Great Oak, ears flat, teeth bared. Was it going to attack the real Bramblestar? Rootpaw stared, fear sparking in his paws. The ghost suddenly turned, its spectral gaze locked with Rootpaw’s so intensely that it seemed to burn deep into his thoughts. Panic shrilled through his fur. It knows I can see him! Blood roaring in his ears, Rootpaw turned and fled. He plunged into the long grass, then hared toward the tree-bridge. Pelt spiked with terror, he exploded from the grass. I have to escape! The tree-bridge was a few tail-lengths ahead. He made for it, his breath shallow, and leaped onto the fallen tree. The frost on the bark made his paws slip, and he jerked sideways to keep his balance

“You have to help me!” A voice sounded behind him. Rootpaw skidded to a clumsy halt on the tree-bridge. Dread weighted his paws. I can’t outrun a spirit. He turned, trembling.

Bramblestar’s ghost stood below him on the shore. Behind, the long grass was still shivering where Rootpaw had charged through it. The ghost eyed him, desperation in its pale gaze. “You’re the only cat who can see me, and I don’t know how long I can last like this.” It took another stop forward.

Rootpaw scrabbled backward. “Stay away!” His paws slipped again. Alarm flared beneath his pelt as he slithered sideways and tumbled from the bridge. He hit the water with a splash. The cold snatched his breath as he sank. Flailing, he tried to keep his head above the surface as he reached for the lakebed with his hind paws. But there was only water beneath him, and he sank deeper into the chilly blackness.

Terror burned beneath his pelt. He churned his paws, hauling himself upward long enough to poke his muzzle into air. He gasped for breath, swallowing water as he sank again. Help! He remembered how he’d fallen into the lake before. Bristlefrost had fished him out, but she wasn’t here now. His Clanmates were in the clearing. Help! He fought for the surface once more. As he broke it, he saw Bramblestar’s ghost leaning down from the tree-bridge. A ghostly paw swung toward him.

“Grab it!” Bramblestar’s faint mew echoed in the moonlight. Eyes stinging, heart pounding, Rootpaw thrust a foreleg above the surface, reaching for the apparition. His paw swished through the ghostly silhouette. He can’t touch me! The hope that had flashed for a moment in Rootpaw’s heart flickered out. With a wail he sank beneath the rippling water.

He struck out again, not for the surface this time, but forward. If he could push himself to the bank, he’d find the shallows. Lungs screaming for air, he thrashed the water, kicking out with every leg, hope rising again as he moved beneath the surface. His forepaw struck something hard. The lakebed. It was rising to meet the shore. He dug his claws into the sandy earth and hauled himself toward it until he felt solid ground beneath every paw, and felt the fresh night air bathe his head. Pulling himself forward, he gulped a desperate breath and staggered from the lake, trembling with terror and the cold. Teeth chattering, he shook out his pelt.

“Rootpaw!” Needlepaw dashed across the tree-bridge and landed on the shore behind him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

The Gathering must have ended, because the cats were leaving the island, pouring along the long grass and filing across the bridge. As he struggled to calm himself, his Clanmates streamed around him.

“How did you fall into the lake again ?” Kitescratch stared at him, his whiskers trembling with amusement.

Needlepaw turned on the brown tom. “He could have drowned!”

Violetshine wove around Rootpaw. He could feel her pelt prickling with fear. “What happened?” she mewed.

“I slipped on the frozen bark,” Rootpaw told her, rubbing water from his eyes with his paw.

Dewspring reached him. His mentor gazed at him sternly. “You shouldn’t have run out of the Gathering like that. How does it look to the other Clans if one of our apprentices hares away for no reason?”

“Leave him alone!” Violetshine glared at Dewspring. “He could have drowned.”

“Don’t be mouse-brained,” Dewspring snapped back. “There are only a few tail-lengths of water between the island and the shore. Even a mouse could have swum it.” His gaze flitted back to Rootpaw. “Why did you run away?”