Эрин Хантер - Sunrise

Firestar leaped down from the boulder and padded through the groups of cats with Brambleclaw just behind him. Brackenfur and Sorreltail joined them.

Cats who didn’t want to attack WindClan, Lionblaze realized.

Firestar isn’t taking any risks.

Firestar led them toward the thorn tunnel; before they left, he turned and summoned Graystripe with a flick of his tail. “Keep an eye on Thornclaw and the others,” he murmured to the gray warrior. “Make sure they don’t try to launch their own attack.”

Graystripe nodded grimly. “Don’t worry. I’ll stick closer than their pelts.”

Lionblaze and the others followed Firestar as he headed through the woods, making for the WindClan border. Fallen leaves rustled as the cats brushed through them; in the shade of the trees, where the leaf-bare sun didn’t penetrate, every leaf was still rimmed with frost. The bare branches traced delicate patterns against the sky.

The patrol padded behind Firestar in solemn silence; Lionblaze brought up the rear. He could tell that the rest of the cats were uneasy, halting every few paw steps to taste the air. Sorreltail spun around, her tail lashing, at the sound of an acorn dropping into the undergrowth.

“It doesn’t feel like our territory anymore,” she mewed disgustedly when she realized her mistake. “There could be anything lurking about. Suppose it was a rogue who killed Ashfur?”

“It might have been.” Brackenfur touched his mate’s shoulder with his tail-tip. “But you’re safe with us. One cat can’t take on a whole patrol.”

“That crow-food-eating menace Sol could still be hanging around,” Sorreltail went on. “No cat knows where he went after ShadowClan threw him out.”

Firestar, who had paused to wait for his Clanmates, pricked his ears with interest. “It’s an idea. We should all stay alert for any signs of him. I’ll announce it to the rest of the Clan when we get back.”

“Sol doesn’t strike me as the sort of cat who would kill,” Brambleclaw commented thoughtfully. “Getting other cats to do his dirty work is more his style.”

Firestar nodded. “True. But maybe Ashfur caught him trying to do something to harm ThunderClan.”

“Ashfur might have attacked Sol just for being on our territory,” Brackenfur meowed. “He would have taken on a badger to protect his Clan.”

“He was a loyal warrior,” Brambleclaw agreed.

Miserably Lionblaze wished he could feel what they did, and mourn his Clanmate sincerely. Ashfur’s famous loyalty wouldn’t have stopped him from ruining ThunderClan’s reputation by revealing Squirrelflight’s secret at the Gathering. He had confessed that he had plotted with Hawkfrost to make Brambleclaw kill Firestar. His obsession with Squirrelflight had destroyed his commitment to ThunderClan. But now that he was dead, his Clan was determined to make him into a hero. Lionblaze longed to yowl out the truth to every cat in the forest, but he knew the destruction that would follow. When the patrol set off again, he could only plod along at the rear, hating the need for silence and hating himself.

“Are you okay?” Brambleclaw had dropped back to pad beside him. “I know you must be missing Ashfur.”

Fury at Brambleclaw’s misunderstanding flooded through Lionblaze. “I’m fine!” he snapped, knowing he was being illogical. “Stay out of my fur, will you?”

Brambleclaw’s eyes widened, but he said nothing, just nodded and quickened his pace again to catch up with Firestar.

“You shouldn’t claw his whiskers off,” Sorreltail mewed, padding up to Lionblaze and touching his ear with her nose. “Brambleclaw is bound to be worried about you; that’s what fathers do.” Her amber eyes gleamed with affection. “My kits are warriors now, but they’ll always be my kits.”

Lionblaze gave her an awkward nod, but he couldn’t reply. His secret trapped him like rising floodwater, cutting him off from every cat in his Clan. He’s not my father! Lionblaze wanted to yowl. Everything you’ve been told is a lie!

CHAPTER 2

A chilly wind was blowing from the moor when Firestar and his patrol reached the stream that marked the border with WindClan. Lionblaze’s paws tingled as he padded up to the edge of the bank. This was close to where they had found Ashfur. He tried to shut out the memories of Ashfur’s slick gray body, wedged behind a rock and bobbing in the current. Yet he could not regret Ashfur’s death.

Each cat leaped across the stream and raced into WindClan territory without even checking for scent. Lionblaze guessed that they, too, were spooked by the memory of the dead warrior. Firestar led them on, still at a run, until the stream was hidden behind them by rocks and reeds.

Lionblaze tasted the air and shivered. There was a tang of snow that must have come from the mountains. A dark haze like storm clouds crouched on the horizon; Lionblaze knew he was looking at the distant home of the Tribe of Rushing Water. How are they managing? he wondered. Leaf-bare would be even harder where snow lay thick on bare rock and prey was scarce. But I wish I could go back, he added to himself, knowing he meant not just back to the mountains, but back in time as well. When I was with the Tribe, I knew who I was and where my destiny was leading .

“There are WindClan cats nearby,” Firestar meowed.

Lionblaze jumped guiltily; thinking about the Tribe, he had never noticed the WindClan scent, though it was strong and fresh. For the first time he started to wonder how their mission would turn out. There was still hostility between ThunderClan and WindClan; Onestar was bound to see an accusation behind Firestar’s questions.

The ThunderClan leader headed across the moor toward the WindClan camp with his warriors at his flanks. Wind buffeted their fur, and a strong gust nearly carried Sorreltail off her paws.

“I can’t imagine why cats would choose to live here!” she hissed as she struggled to regain her balance.

“We like it here!” A loud meow rang out across the moorland.

Lionblaze looked up to see a WindClan patrol appearing over the shoulder of the hill. Tornear, the cat who had spoken, was in the lead, followed by Crowfeather, Whitetail, and Heathertail.

Meeting Heathertail’s gaze, Lionblaze saw nothing but cold contempt in the eyes of the cat who had once been his friend—and even more than that. Bitter regret surged through him. As he looked back, those times had been the happiest and easiest of his life, even though he had broken the warrior code to meet Heathertail in the tunnels beneath the forest. Now she looked as if she would have killed him for a couple of mousetails; Lionblaze shuddered as he pictured his own body lying in the stream.

“Greetings, Tornear.” Firestar dipped his head as the WindClan patrol approached.

“What are you doing here?” Tornear sounded wary but not hostile, though Crowfeather’s neck fur was bristling and Whitetail had unsheathed her claws.

“I need to speak with Onestar,” Firestar explained. “May we visit your camp?”

Tornear hesitated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, then gave a brusque nod. “Very well, but we’ll escort you. And you’d better not start anything.”

“We only want to talk,” Firestar promised.

Taking the lead, Tornear headed farther up the hill in the direction of the WindClan camp. Crowfeather and Whitetail flanked the ThunderClan patrol on either side, while Heathertail brought up the rear. Lionblaze was acutely conscious of her, padding just behind him, and felt her gaze pierce him like a thorn.