Эрин Хантер - The Silent Thaw

Tigerstar padded closer, his gaze flitting from Squirrelflight to Tree. “Go ahead, then. Say what you have to say. I’m listening.” He stopped in front of Tree.

“She’s right about Bramblestar,” Tree told him. “He’s not really Bramblestar. He’s an impostor who has stolen Bramblestar’s body.” Shocked whispers rippled around the Clan, but Tree pressed on. “I’ve seen Bramblestar’s ghost. It’s trapped in the forest. It can’t return to its body, and it can’t find StarClan.”

Tigerstar blinked. “How can that be?”

Shadowsight lifted his muzzle. “When Bramblestar lost a life, the impostor took his place.”

“How?” Tigerstar turned on his son.

Shadowsight’s ears twitched. “I don’t know .” He sounded desperate. “The voice that told me that Bramblestar could only be cured on the moor wanted me to take him there. I think they wanted him to die so they could steal his body.”

Rootpaw blinked at the ShadowClan medicine cat. Of course. Whichever cat had stolen Bramblestar’s body had planned it from the start. Shadowsight’s tail drooped. He looked defeated. Was he thinking this was all his fault?

Scorchfur padded forward, his pelt prickling. “I thought StarClan told you to take Bramblestar to the moor.”

Shadowsight stared at the dark gray tom in exasperation. “I thought so too. But didn’t you hear me at the Gathering? I told you! I told every cat . It was never StarClan talking to me at all.”

Rootpaw’s heart ached with sympathy as Shadowsight stared helplessly at his Clanmate. He knew what it was like to know something no other cat would believe.

Puddleshine padded into the clearing. “Shadowsight told me when he realized that the visions weren’t from StarClan, but I asked him to keep it to himself. I was scared the other Clans would turn on us if they knew.”

“I’m sorry,” Shadowsight mewed. “I thought I was helping the Clans, but I was just being used by some cat who wants to hurt us.”

Flowerstem’s ears twitched nervously. “Then where is StarClan?”

Shadowsight shrugged. “They’re not talking to us. That’s all I know.”

Whorlpelt whisked his tail. “But maybe Bramblestar—or whichever cat it is—is right. Won’t punishing the codebreakers bring them back?”

“Don’t you understand?” Tree snapped. “StarClan doesn’t care about these codebreakers. The impostor is the only one who wants them punished.”

A growl rumbled in Squirrelflight’s throat. “I think he likes to watch cats suffer.”

Scorchfur bristled as he stared at Shadowsight. “Why did you listen to this voice? You should have known better. You’re supposed to be a medicine cat. We trusted you!”

Shadowsight seemed to shrink beneath his pelt.

Rootpaw stepped in front of him and curled his tail protectively over Shadowsight’s spine. “He was doing his best.”

Tigerstar lifted his muzzle. “What’s done is done,” he mewed firmly. “We can’t change it now. ShadowClan warriors have always done their best to protect their Clanmates, and that won’t ever change. Turning on one another is not the answer.”

Flowerstem padded tentatively forward. “How do we know all this is true?” She glanced skeptically at Squirrelflight. “These cats might be trying to stir up trouble because they disagree with Bramblestar.”

Tigerstar narrowed his eyes. “But we know Bramblestar isn’t behaving like himself.”

Scorchfur huffed. “ThunderClan has always been bossy.”

Dovewing frowned. “Never this bossy.”

“I can show you Bramblestar’s ghost if you like.” Tree gazed around the gathered cats.

Tawnypelt’s eyes widened. “I forgot you could do that.”

Rootpaw glanced nervously at his father. He was still tired after summoning the ghost for Shadowsight. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed it. Tree had told him to picture the ghost as hard as he could, and call out to him with his mind, focusing his thoughts onto a single patch of ground. Could he do it again so soon, especially knowing a whole Clan was watching? A whole Clan that would now know that Rootpaw was as strange as his father, if they realized who was actually summoning the spirit?

I have to, he told himself. This is too important.

He nudged Tree’s shoulder with his nose. “What if I can’t make it appear this time?” he whispered softly.

Tree nosed Rootpaw away and lowered his voice. “You’ll be fine,” he breathed. “Just do what I told you. . . .”

“What if I’m not strong enough?” Rootpaw glanced back at the watching ShadowClan cats.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Tree told him. “And it’ll be easier this time. He’s your ghost, and he wants to come. You just have to open the way.”

Rootpaw swallowed. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Tree slid in front of Rootpaw and faced the expectant warriors. Rootpaw closed his eyes. He pictured Bramblestar’s ghost, imagining its watery outline, its tabby pelt, the wide forehead and muscled shoulders. He visualized it shimmering into view and felt himself shudder with the effort. His paws shook. Energy fizzed in his fur. This was how it had felt last time. It must be working. He half opened his eyes to look.

Tree was trembling slightly as he pretended to summon the apparition. But it was already there, standing in the clearing. Triumph pulsed beneath Rootpaw’s pelt as the ShadowClan cats stared at the ghost, fur spiking with alarm. I did it again!

It stiffened as it seemed to realize every eye in the ShadowClan camp was on it. “Can you see me?”

Tigerstar nodded slowly as though wondering if he were dreaming.

“Some cat has stolen my body,” the ghost mewed quickly.

Squirrelflight darted toward it, desperation in her gaze. “Bramblestar!” Her muzzle passed through the ghost’s, which was no more solid than air, and she backed away, trembling.

The ghost glanced at her apologetically, then stared at the ShadowClan cats. “Don’t listen to the impostor. It’s not me!” It glanced at Shadowsight. “Don’t blame Shadowsight—he was tricked. Whatever took my body will do anything to get what it wants.”

Rootpaw’s heart began to pound and his paws felt as heavy as stone. He staggered, every hair in his pelt suddenly drained of energy, but he fought to keep the ghost there.

“You’re doing it!” Tree whispered beside Rootpaw.

His father’s mew broke Rootpaw’s concentration. The ghost flickered into thin air and the ShadowClan cats blinked with surprise, as though waking from a dream.

Rootpaw struggled to stay on his paws. He felt more tired than he’d ever felt in his life. But he didn’t want the others to know he’d made the ghost appear. As he wobbled like a newborn kit, his father dropped beside him, pretending to be exhausted. Rootpaw felt a rush of relief as the gathered cats’ attention flashed toward the yellow tom, their eyes glittering with shock.

“Was that really Bramblestar?” Flowerstem gasped.

“Yes!” Tawnypelt’s ears twitched excitedly.

“It must be a trick,” Scorchfur growled. “Bramblestar’s still alive.”

“We told you—the living Bramblestar isn’t the real Bramblestar!” Squirrelflight snapped.

Rootpaw glanced past them. He could still see the ghost. It was standing in the clearing, watching the ShadowClan cats.

It padded to Rootpaw’s side. “They know everything I know,” it murmured. “They have to fight now.”

Tigerstar’s tail flicked ominously. “Who is this impostor?”

Tree struggled to his paws. “We don’t know yet.”

Puddleshine looked puzzled. “Is it a rogue?”