Эрин Хантер - The Apprentice's Quest

The roaring sound grew louder as the cats loped on, and the acrid stench filled the air, drowning out the scents of the forest. Before they had traveled many fox-lengths, the trees came to an end, and the cats emerged onto a strip of grass that bordered the Thunderpath.

Alderpaw stared at it, his heart pounding so hard that he thought it would break out of his chest. He had never seen anything so terrifying.

Monsters were racing past in both directions, so close that the wind of their passing ruffled the cats’ fur. As they ran, they let out weird, high-pitched noises, as if they were talking to one another. Most of them had two blazing eyes that cut through the darkness in front of them.

Then Alderpaw spotted a monster that had only one eye. It looked even more dangerous than the others.

“A one-eyed monster!” Sparkpaw gasped, pressing close to Alderpaw and for once sounding just as scared as he was.

“You have to be brave,” Sandstorm meowed, her voice steady. “We need to cross before it’s completely dark. Come with me, and remember what I told you. No cat is to cross until I give the word.”

Alderpaw took a deep breath and gathered all his strength. He closed his eyes and called up the memory of the cats in his vision. I’m doing this for you. Full of resolve, he opened his eyes again. If we have to cross, then that’s what we’ll do.

He followed Sandstorm and stood in a line with his Clanmates at the very edge of the Thunderpath. He couldn’t believe how close they were to the monsters as they whizzed by.

Noise and wind and harsh scents buffeted him so that he hardly knew where he was. The monsters moved so quickly that he couldn’t see their paws, just a blur of black as they raced by.

Their roaring was so loud it hurt his ears, and their eyes were so bright that he couldn’t bear to look at them.

“Don’t worry,” meowed Sandstorm, standing next to him. “As long as we time our crossing right, the monsters won’t get us.”

Alderpaw wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t help noticing the fear in her voice and in her scent.

There was no gap between the monsters where the cats could safely cross. Alderpaw imagined himself squashed beneath those massive black paws, flattened onto the black surface of the Thunderpath.

Then something flew out of one of the monsters. It glittered in the light from their eyes, heading straight for Molewhisker.

Sandstorm saw it, too.

“No!” she yowled, leaping at Molewhisker and shoving him out of the way.

Both cats lost their balance and fell over in a tangle of legs and tails, while the object smashed down on the edge of the Thunderpath and shattered into pieces.

“Thanks!” Molewhisker panted, scrambling to his paws. “Sandstorm, you probably saved my—”

He broke off as another object appeared from another monster, a dark shape hurtling through the air.

“Run!” Sandstorm yowled. “Back into the trees!”

No cat waited to find out what the second object was. Alderpaw heard it thump to the ground behind him as he raced back into the woodland with Sparkpaw by his side. At first he was scared that they would lose one another in the gathering darkness, but after a moment they all came together and huddled, trembling, in the shelter of some ferns.

“That does it!” Sandstorm’s voice was shaking. “I’m not trying to cross in the dark, not with monsters throwing things at us. We’ll make camp here and cross in the morning.”

Alderpaw felt a vast wave of relief that he didn’t have to go back and face the monsters with their glowing eyes. He tried to squash down the niggling anxiety that he felt when he thought about making the crossing on the following day.

Every cat was too exhausted to think of making real nests. They crawled more deeply into the patch of ferns and curled up close together. Alderpaw was grateful for the comforting feel of his sister’s fur pressed against him on one side, and Molewhisker’s on the other.

But as sleep washed over him, his pelt tingled with the certainty that he could still feel their mysterious follower’s eyes.

Sunlight slanting through the ferns woke

Alderpaw the next morning. Scrambling up, he pushed his way out into the open to see Sandstorm grooming herself at the foot of a beech tree. There was no sign of his other Clanmates.

“It’s so late!” he gasped. “Why did you let me sleep? Where are the others?”

“Keep your fur on,” Sandstorm meowed, licking her paw and drawing it over one ear. “It’s only just after sunrise. The others have gone hunting.”

As she spoke, the fern fronds waved and Cherryfall emerged, carrying a squirrel.

Molewhisker and Sparkpaw followed her, each with a vole.

“Great catch,” Sandstorm commented.

“Let’s eat and be on our way.”

It was comforting to have a full belly when he followed his Clanmates to the edge of the trees and reached the Thunderpath once more.

He was still scared as he crouched at the edge of the hard black path, his fur buffeted as the monsters roared past. But it wasn’t quite as terrifying as the night before.

At least we can see the monsters properly, not just their blazing eyes!

Sandstorm stood in the middle of their line, her head turning to and fro as she waited for a gap between the monsters. “When I say ‘run,’” she mewed, “then run as if the whole of ShadowClan were after you, and don’t stop until you get to the other side.”

It seemed a long time to Alderpaw before the roaring of monsters died away and the last of them dwindled into the distance.

“Now!” Sandstorm exclaimed. “Run!”

Alderpaw leaped forward in massive bounds, his paws barely touching the hard surface of the Thunderpath as he raced toward the trees on the other side, Sparkpaw keeping pace next to him. Then the roar of a monster burst upon Alderpaw’s ears, and he heard Sandstorm shriek, “Faster!”

Glancing over, Alderpaw saw the biggest monster yet bearing down on him, looming over him with its jaws gaping. All his instincts told him to freeze in terror, but Sparkpaw barreled into him, forcing him to keep running.

The monster passed behind them with a blast of wind, and Alderpaw collapsed, panting, on the grass at the far side of the Thunderpath.

“Great StarClan, that was scary!” Sparkpaw exclaimed.

Alderpaw sat up, panting for breath.

“Thanks, Sparkpaw. You saved—”

His sister gave him a hard nudge. “Shut up, stupid furball.”

“We ought to get under cover,” Molewhisker suggested. “The monsters might start throwing things again.”

“Good idea,” Sandstorm agreed.

They trekked through the trees for the rest of the day, as clouds began to gather, casting a gloom over the forest. Wind rustled the upper branches, and a few drops of rain spattered down. Toward evening the sky cleared again, but the air remained chilly. Fluffing up his fur, Alderpaw wished he could look forward to his cozy nest in the apprentices’ den. At least I don’t think we’re being watched anymore.

Maybe we lost the creature, whatever it was, back at the Thunderpath.

Eventually they came to a hollow edged by thick holly bushes. There was a small pool of water at the bottom, and all the cats, sore-pawed by now, limped down the slope and lapped gratefully at the water.

“This is as good a place as any to make camp,” Sandstorm meowed. “Alderpaw, you and I will collect bedding while the rest of you hunt.”

Alderpaw felt a pang of regret that he would never be chosen to join the hunters, but quickly set to work collecting leaves, moss, and ferns to make a nest for his Clanmates to share in the shelter of a bush. It was ready, soft and comfortable, by the time the moon had risen and the others returned with a couple of thrushes and several shrews.