Эрин Хантер - The Silent Thaw

“Do you think that’s fair?” Stemleaf stared at her defiantly.

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s fair or not,” Bristlefrost whispered urgently. “Bramblestar gave an order. You’re breaking the warrior code if you ignore it.”

Spotfur’s ears flattened. “But his orders are dumb!”

“Don’t say that!” Bristlefrost’s pelt spiked. “He’s our leader.”

“He hasn’t been much of a leader since he lost a life,” Stemleaf growled under his breath.

“It was his first life,” Bristlefrost reminded him. “He’s just getting used to it, and while he does, we just need to follow orders.”

“Even if they’re wrong?” Stemleaf flexed his claws in frustration.

“How will StarClan come back if we keep breaking the code?” Bristlefrost stared at him. Why didn’t he understand?

Spotfur snorted. “Do you really think they’ll come back if no cat talks to me for a quarter moon?”

“Not just that,” Bristlefrost argued. “It’s lots of things. I never realized how much we break the code without thinking. Every cat has to obey orders.”

Stemleaf narrowed his eyes. “And you’re going to make sure that we do?” he mewed bitterly.

“I’m just trying to stop you from getting into trouble like Spotfur,” Bristlefrost breathed. “You don’t want Bramblestar to stop your Clanmates from talking to you too.”

Stemleaf stared at her, his eyes glittering with starlight. “You don’t get it, do you? There’s more at stake here than whether we’re allowed to talk to each other. Something is very wrong.” He stretched his muzzle closer. “I always thought you were a good cat. Soon we’re going to have to make choices. I just hope you’ll be ready to make the right ones.” He stalked away.

Spotfur blinked at her, her eyes glistening with anger, then slid past her and headed toward the clearing.

Alone in the dark, Bristlefrost glanced around the camp. No cat paid any attention to Spotfur as she settled outside the warriors’ den and Stemleaf sat down between Dewnose and Bumblestripe. A dark sense of foreboding seemed to enfold her as Stemleaf’s words rang in her head. Soon we’re going to have to make choices.

She shivered. What in StarClan did he mean?

Chapter 9

Early morning light seeped through the medicine-den entrance as Shadowsight crept from his nest and crossed to Antfur’s. He hoped that Antfur would be his old self today. For three days, Shadowsight had padded to the injured cat’s nest in the medicine den and checked his eyes for cloudiness and asked him questions, hoping that he’d recovered enough to answer them sensibly. But each time Antfur had been confused, unsure where he was and answering questions as though he were still a guardian cat in the city.

Shadowsight’s heart seemed to beat too loudly in the quiet dawn. Snowbird was curled in her nest, eyes closed. At least the pain in her broken paw had eased enough for her to sleep through the night, and the swelling in Stonewing’s tail had gone down enough to reassure Shadowsight that he wouldn’t lose the tip. Their Clanmates were healing quickly. Shadowsight couldn’t help feeling that he and Puddleshine had done well. Scorchfur’s bruising was still tender, but Puddleshine had sent him back to his nest in the warriors’ den when he’d complained that the smell of herbs was making him queasy. “If he’s well enough to complain,” Puddleshine had said, “he’s well enough to sleep in his own nest.” Perhaps ShadowClan hadn’t been cursed with bad luck after all.

And yet, as Shadowsight stopped beside the warrior’s nest, doubt tugged at his belly. Please let Antfur be better today. He wondered if it was any use appealing to StarClan. He still wasn’t sure they hadn’t caused all this. Shadowsight leaned into the nest.

“Antfur?” He nudged the sleeping cat with a paw.

Antfur lifted his head, blinking in the half-light. He looked at Shadowsight, puzzled. “Is that you, Mittens?”

Shadowsight’s heart sank. “It’s me, Shadowsight.”

Puddleshine’s nest rustled at the back of the den as the medicine cat climbed out of it. “Why did you wake him?” Puddleshine breathed softly as he crossed the den toward Shadowsight.

“I wanted to see how he was,” Shadowsight murmured.

“Any better?” Puddleshine stopped beside him and looked at Antfur hopefully.

“He’s still confused,” Shadowsight told him.

“He just woke up.” Puddleshine peered into Antfur’s eyes. “He’s bound to be confused.”

Antfur blinked at him. “What’s happened? Is something wrong?” His gaze flicked toward the pale light at the den entrance. “Am I supposed to be on patrol?”

“No,” Puddleshine told the warrior. “You’re supposed to be resting. We’re just checking on you.” He sat back on his haunches and looked at Shadowsight. “His eyes seem clearer.”

“Do they?” Shadowsight was blocking the light from the entrance. He moved until pale sunlight fell past him and glistened in Antfur’s amber gaze. Hope flickered in Shadowsight’s chest. Puddleshine was right; the haziness that had shrouded his eyes since the branch hit him had cleared.

Antfur blinked at them. “Why are you both staring at me?”

“Do you know who I am?” Puddleshine asked him.

“Of course.” Antfur stared at him as though he’d asked if birds could fly. “You’re Puddleshine.”

He recognizes us. Shadowsight’s paws tingled eagerly. “Do you know why you’re in the medicine den?”

“I got hit by a branch,” Antfur told him.

“Who was with you?” Shadowsight pressed.

Antfur stood up and shook out his fur. “Dovewing, Scorchfur, and Stonewing.”

Shadowsight glanced at Puddleshine. Relief washed over his pelt. He’d been a bit confused when he first woke, but now Antfur seemed to be as sharp as he’d been before the accident.

Puddleshine puffed out his chest. “It’s good to see you feeling better,” he told Antfur happily.

Antfur pricked his ears. “Can I get back to my warrior duties now?”

“Maybe,” Puddleshine told him.

Shadowsight looked at his old mentor. “Are you sure? This is only the first time he’s seemed to know what’s going on. He called me Mittens earlier.”

“He’d just woken up.”

“Don’t you think we should watch him for a day or two to make sure he’s okay?”

“If he feels well enough . . .” Puddleshine’s mew trailed away as Antfur hopped out of his nest.

“I might have been confused before, but I’m fine now. I haven’t broken anything,” the warrior told him. “And my bruises are feeling a lot better.”

The den entrance shivered. Tigerstar padded in, his gaze flitting toward Snowbird’s nest first as the white she-cat lifted her head. Her eyes were bleary with sleep.

“How’s the paw?” Tigerstar padded toward her.

“Only a little better.” Snowbird lifted it with a grimace. It was still swathed in comfrey and held stiff by four smooth, straight sticks.

“Keep resting it,” Tigerstar told her brightly. “You’ll be hunting again in no time.” He crossed the den and stopped beside Puddleshine, his tail high. Shadowsight wondered if his father really felt as cheerful as he was acting. Perhaps he was just trying to keep his wounded warriors’ spirits high. “And how are you?” Tigerstar looked at Antfur.

“Ready for patrol,” the tom told him, standing up straight.