Эрин Хантер - Sunrise

“May StarClan light your path,” Firestar meowed. “You are going to find the truth.”

No! The truth is here! Jayfeather clamped his jaws shut so that he didn’t yowl out loud. Midnight had told him what he already knew: Sol did not kill Ashfur. The patrol was heading toward danger for nothing. Why couldn’t his Clanmates see that they had to look among themselves to find the truth?

He wondered whether they would find Sol and what would happen if they did. His paws tingled as he thought about what Sol could tell them.

He knows about the prophecy….

CHAPTER 4

Frost lay thick on the ground as Brambleclaw’s patrol headed through the forest toward the lake. The cats trotted in silence through the silver bracken, their breath clouding around their muzzles. Above Hollyleaf’s head the sky was lightening to a pale dove-gray.

Hollyleaf felt as though her paws would freeze to the ground at every step. Icy claws seemed to rake through her fur; the bitter cold numbed the tips of her ears. She felt light-headed—ever since Squirrelflight’s revelation, she had found it hard to choke down even the smallest piece of fresh-kill. All that kept her going was a burning need to find out what Sol knew.

Lionblaze trotted alongside her, grim-faced and strong, his amber gaze fixed on the forest ahead. His presence comforted Hollyleaf, though she felt Jayfeather’s absence like the stab of a thorn.

Maybe it’s best that he stayed behind, she thought. It’s not like he can look for Sol himself.

Brambleclaw led the way to the stream, and they followed it downhill until they reached the edge of the lake, where the water was still and shallow, with a delicate covering of ice.

Are we mouse-brained, to set out on a long journey in leaf-bare?

But in spite of the cold, tension within the patrol ebbed as they headed along the shore on the edge of WindClan territory. Hazeltail dropped back to pad along beside Hollyleaf, her eyes shining.

“Isn’t this great?” She gave a little bounce, like an excited kit. “We’re going somewhere no cats have been before.”

“Actually they have,” Hollyleaf pointed out, not wanting to listen to Hazeltail’s chatter. “Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight went to the sun-drown-place with the other cats chosen by StarClan.”

“That must have been so exciting!” Hazeltail sighed. “Your mother and father have traveled farther than any cats, ever. They’re so adventurous!”

No, they’re just liars, Hollyleaf thought bitterly.

There was no sign of any WindClan cats as they skirted the territory, but as they approached the horseplace Hollyleaf began to pick up a strong WindClan scent. Brambleclaw halted, raising his tail to tell his patrol to do the same. He stood with head raised, his jaws parted to taste the air.

Aware of the pelts bristling around her, Hollyleaf realized how jumpy they all were. They weren’t doing anything to break the warrior code by keeping close to the edge of the lake, but a single whiff of WindClan scent had them all unsheathing their claws. Ashfur’s death has done this to us.

“Why should there be any trouble?” Hazeltail asked, puzzled. “We’re allowed to walk beside the lake, aren’t we?”

Before Hollyleaf could respond, a gray she-cat appeared at the top of the bank and padded down toward the patrol.

“Ashfoot!” Brambleclaw relaxed. “Greetings.”

“Greetings, Brambleclaw.” The WindClan deputy dipped her head as she reached the group of ThunderClan cats. “I wondered if you would go looking for Sol. That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Brambleclaw nodded. “Whether or not he killed Ashfur, he has questions to answer.”

“Then I’ve something to show you,” Ashfoot meowed. “Follow me.”

She led the way along the edge of the lake until they reached the Twoleg fence around the horseplace; the mesh shone like a huge cobweb in the strengthening daylight.

“There.” Ashfur flicked her ears toward a rough place on the mesh where a long, silky strand of reddish fur was caught.

Brambleclaw padded up to it and sniffed it, then turned to the patrol with his amber eyes wide. “Sol.”

Hollyleaf’s heart pounded harder in her chest. The evidence of Sol’s presence brought his memory back to her more strongly than ever. He had seemed to know so much, had prophesied so much…and yet he had turned out to be a traitor.

“Then he went this way!” Brackenfur exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. “We’re on the right track.”

“The scent’s stale,” Brambleclaw warned, “but not that old. Sol certainly passed this place not many sunrises ago.”

Ashfoot took a pace back, toward her own territory. “Good-bye, then, and good luck.”

“Thanks, Ashfoot,” Brambleclaw responded. “You’ve helped us a lot—what made you do it?”

Ashfoot twitched her ears. “I want my own Clan to be safe. Sol must be dealt with before he causes more trouble.” Without waiting for a reply, she padded back up the bank and disappeared over the shoulder of the hill.

“Or else she wants us to stop blaming WindClan,” Birchfall muttered as soon as she was out of earshot.

“That may be,” Brambleclaw mewed. “But we don’t need to bother about that now. All of you, get a good sniff of this fur, and fix the scent in your minds. Then we can be on our way.”

Sliding under the Twoleg fence, he led the way across the field. The ground was hard as stone, and the grass crunched underneath their paws. Their route led them close to the wooden horse nests. Hollyleaf felt her neck fur begin to bristle as she caught the scents of Twoleg and dog, but nothing moved and there was no sound.

She expected Brambleclaw to pass by quickly, but instead he halted at the entrance to the horse nest. “Why are we stopping?” she asked.

“We won’t stay long,” Brambleclaw replied, “but there are some cats here I want Hazeltail to meet. Hello!” he called softly through the opening.

Hazeltail looked up, puzzled, but before she could speak, two cats appeared from the shadows. In the lead was a muscular gray-and-white tom, with a smaller, paler she-cat just behind him.

“Brambleclaw!” The tom sounded surprised but welcoming. “What are you doing here—and all these others? I hope there’s no trouble in your Clan.”

“Nothing that need worry you,” Brambleclaw replied.

“Who are they?” Hollyleaf whispered in Lionblaze’s ear.

Lionblaze shrugged. “No idea.”

“Smoky, Floss,” Brambleclaw went on, “this is Hazeltail, Daisy’s daughter.” He twitched his ears to draw Hazeltail to his side, in front of the stable cats. “Hazeltail, this is Smoky…your father.”

Hazeltail’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Daisy brought us here when we were kits. Father!”

She rushed forward and rubbed her muzzle against Smoky’s chin. Purring loudly, Smoky bent his head and gave her a lick around the ears. “I’ve missed you all,” he murmured.

With the touch of his tail on her shoulder, he urged the small she-cat forward. “Do you remember Floss?” he prompted Hazeltail. “She helped Daisy look after you, when you were first born.”

Hazeltail looked uncertain. “I don’t remember that,” she mewed, dipping her head to Floss. “But I do remember seeing you here when Daisy brought us back.”

“How is Daisy?” Smoky asked Brambleclaw. “And the other kits…Berry and Mouse?”

“They’re all fine,” Hazeltail assured him, her eyes sparkling. “They’re Berrynose and Mousewhisker now. We’re all warriors of ThunderClan. Berrynose lost half his tail in a fox trap—”