Эрин Хантер - Sunrise

“I know,” Leafpool replied patiently. “But I want Jayfeather to look for herbs. We’re getting very low on tansy. We could do with chervil and yarrow, too. There might still be something growing under the trees near the lake.”

Mousefur’s only response was an exaggerated sigh; Jayfeather pictured the skinny brown elder rolling her eyes.

Leafpool padded up to Jayfeather, close enough to brush his pelt. “I want you to take special care of Mousefur,” she whispered. “Make sure she doesn’t go too far, and check her breathing.” More loudly she added, “Mousefur, maybe you and Longtail could help Jayfeather carry back any herbs he finds.”

“I think we might just about manage that,” Mousefur growled.

Jayfeather swallowed the last of his vole and led the way across the clearing and through the thorn tunnel. Mousefur followed him, guiding Longtail. The forest seemed very quiet now that most of the leaves had fallen from the trees. Jayfeather had to push his way through mounds of dead leaves on the ground and keep alert to avoid drifts of snow that still remained under the trees. The air tingled with frost.

The scent of water led him toward the lake. He kept one ear pricked for Mousefur and Longtail, who padded beside him, and sensed before Mousefur the branch that had fallen across their path.

“This way,” he mewed to Longtail, laying his tail over the blind tabby’s shoulders to guide him around the obstacle. “It’s okay, you won’t get your paws tangled.”

“I think you see better than any of us.” Mousefur didn’t sound as grouchy as usual; she almost seemed impressed.

I wish I did, Jayfeather thought. Right now I can’t see far enough. He wanted to know what had happened to the prophecy, and whether Rock knew anything about the secret Squirrelflight had revealed. Most of all, he wanted to know who his real parents were.

The trees thinned out and cold wind hit Jayfeather in the face as the three cats neared the lake.

“You go off and do whatever you have to,” Mousefur meowed. “Longtail and I are going to find a nice patch of sun to snooze in.”

“Yes, there should be plenty of herbs—”

“Look,” the skinny brown elder interrupted, “I know Leafpool only sent you along with us to be sure we made it to the lake without keeling over. You’ll be lucky to find enough herbs to fill your own mouth this far into leaf-bare!”

“It’s not like that,” Jayfeather protested.

“Go on, we’ll be fine,” Longtail insisted.

“And if you need our help, just call,” Mousefur added. “I might be a bit unsteady on my feet, but there’s nothing wrong with my ears.”

“Fine.” Relieved to be free of his duty, Jayfeather pelted along the lakeshore until he reached the twisted tree roots where he had hidden the stick. The cold wind from the lake blew his fur the wrong way as he tugged it out and dragged it under an elder bush. Then he lay down with his paws resting on the scratches.

Come on, Rock. I need to talk to you.

Alarm trickled down his spine as he realized he might find himself back with the Ancient Clan. Something inside him was drawing him back—desire to see the friends he had made there, curiosity about how they had coped on the journey to the mountains—but he had to fight against it. He knew that the Ancient Clan sharpclaws couldn’t help him now.

Jayfeather concentrated as hard as he could, trying to picture the underground cave where Rock waited, but he could still feel grass under his belly and a twig tickling his ear.

“There’s no need for that,” a voice behind him rumbled. “The stick isn’t the answer to everything.”

Jayfeather’s eyes flew open, and he realized that he could see. He was still under the elder bush; turning, he saw Rock standing behind him, almost transparent against the grass and trees. Rock crept under the bush to join Jayfeather, his hairless body smelling of stone and the endless dark of the tunnels.

Jayfeather suppressed a shiver. “Did you know all along that Squirrelflight was lying to us?” he demanded.

Rock’s bulging, sightless eyes turned toward him. “The answers lie within your own Clan,” he replied, “if you can find them.”

“That’s no answer,” Jayfeather mewed irritably. “I need your help!”

“I cannot give the kind of help you want,” Rock warned him.

“Then what about the prophecy? If we’re not Firestar’s kin—”

“Make your own future, Jayfeather,” the spirit-cat interrupted. “Don’t expect it to be dropped at your paws like a piece of fresh-kill.”

Every hair on Jayfeather’s pelt prickled with annoyance. How was he supposed to make his own future if no cat would tell him anything? He dug his claws into the earth.

“Jayfeather!” Mousefur’s voice came from the edge of the lake. “Jayfeather!”

Darkness slammed down over Jayfeather’s vision. The scent of Rock vanished.

“Jayfeather, where are you?”

He crawled out from under the elder bush, kicking dead leaves and debris over the stick. He would have to come back later and hide it properly.

“What are you doing under there?” Mousefur asked, padding up to him. “We’re ready to go back now. We wondered if you have any herbs for us to carry.”

“Er…no, I haven’t found any,” Jayfeather stammered.

Mousefur sighed. “Maybe you’re not looking in the right place. Last I heard, herbs don’t grow well under elder bushes. There’s a huge clump of tansy just behind you,” she added.

Jayfeather’s pelt grew hot with embarrassment. He should have taken time to grab a few herbs before he tried to speak with Rock. He had been so intent on finding the spirit-cat that he hadn’t even noticed the sharp scent of the tansy.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

He was aware of Mousefur’s irritation as he and the skinny elder picked the herbs together. There wasn’t enough for Jayfeather to need help carrying it, and he scented no other herbs as all three cats headed back toward the camp.

“Is that all?” Leafpool asked; she was waiting outside the den when Jayfeather arrived with the tansy. “What about the yarrow and chervil I asked for?”

“I couldn’t find any,” Jayfeather mumbled around the bunch of stems.

Leafpool snorted. “Didn’t look, more likely. Jayfeather, I didn’t send you out there to waste time. You have to do what you’re supposed to!” Her voice deepened to a snarl. “If every cat did that, there wouldn’t be any problems.”

Who put ants in her fur? Jayfeather wondered. It wasn’t like Leafpool to be so short-tempered. For once he didn’t want to argue with her, so he just headed for the den to put the tansy away.

Leafpool brushed past him. “Leave that! I’ll do it.” She almost snatched the herbs out of his jaws; fury rolled off her as she carried them into the cave.

Jayfeather backed out of the den and padded across to the fresh-kill pile. But he had eaten earlier, and even a freshly caught mouse couldn’t tempt him. There were pangs in his belly sharper than hunger: Already he missed Lionblaze and Hollyleaf more than he would have thought possible. They had never been separated for this long before.

In the dream Midnight had said that the patrol was chasing wild geese and Rock had told him that the answers lay inside ThunderClan itself. But Jayfeather didn’t know how he was going to find them on his own. What kind of power was it, to walk in other cats’ dreams, when you woke up still blind? There was no way he was going to find out anything when he was trapped in darkness at every step.