Эрин Хантер - Fading Echoes

Jayfeather plucked a mouse from the stack. “Have you been burying Longtail?” He knew his grief for lost Clanmates was less than that of other cats. He would see Longtail again, free from blindness and aches, basking in the warmth of StarClan’s hunting grounds or sitting with old friends in the ranks of starry-pelted cats who visited the Moonpool.

Briarpaw’s problem upset him more. If her legs didn’t recover, she faced more suffering than he wanted to imagine.

Lionblaze flicked his tail against the ground. “I was helping Mousefur and Purdy. They were tired after sitting vigil all night.” He pushed the blackbird distractedly with a paw. “I sent them to rest in the nursery, but I don’t think Mousefur will sleep. She’s still very agitated.”

“I’ll take her a poppy seed once I’ve eaten,” Jayfeather promised. “Is Dovepaw any calmer?”

“A little.” Concern edged his mew. “She should be proud that she saved so many lives by warning us.”

“She feels the responsibility of looking after the Clan more heavily than ever,” Jayfeather guessed.

“She’s young.” Lionblaze sighed. “And being one of the Three is a great responsibility.”

Jayfeather nodded. He and Lionblaze were older, surer of their abilities, and they still found it hard.

“I’ll take her hunting with Ivypaw this morning,” Lionblaze decided. “I want her to remember what normal Clan life feels like.”

“Good.” As Jayfeather bent to pick up his mouse he heard pattering pawsteps. Blossompaw and Bumblepaw brushed against him.

“Can we see Briarpaw?” Bumblepaw circled anxiously.

“She’s sleeping at the moment,” Jayfeather answered. “But I don’t see why not. She’s not in pain. Company will be as good a medicine as any.”

The two young cats hurried away to the medicine den while Lionblaze headed for the tattered thorn barrier. Jayfeather bent again for his mouse.

“How’s Briarpaw?”

Leafpool’s mew took him by surprise. She was the only cat who could creep up on him. Perhaps her scent was too familiar. Too close to his own. He shook the thought away.

“Why don’t you check on her yourself?” he suggested, trying to keep his fur lying flat.

“I’m a warrior now,” she reminded him gruffly.

Disappointed, he snatched up his mouse and began to pad away.

“I’d go and see Littlecloud.”

Leafpool’s suggestion stopped him in his tracks.

“Really?” He turned back to her. “I thought you weren’t a medicine cat anymore.”

“I meant, if I were you.”

“But you’re not me!”

Leafpool took a steadying breath. “Littlecloud’s dealt with an injury like Briarpaw’s,” she explained. “A cat whose legs were crushed. He might have ideas about how to help Briarpaw.”

Jayfeather didn’t reply.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment,” Leafpool went on. “It’s just what I would do.”

Jayfeather dropped his mouse, his appetite gone, and padded away. He climbed the rocks to Firestar’s den, pushing all thoughts except Briarpaw from his mind.

Sandstorm was sitting with the ThunderClan leader, grooming his shoulders, her rough tongue scraping his sleek fur. She paused as Jayfeather padded in.

“News?” Firestar’s voice was pricked with worry.

Jayfeather shook his head. “I want to travel to the ShadowClan camp to speak with Littlecloud,” he meowed. “Leafpool says he’s dealt with injuries similar to Briarpaw’s.”

“Very well.” Firestar didn’t hesitate. “But take Squirrelflight with you.”

Jayfeather’s heart sank. “I can manage by myself.”

“I know,” Firestar agreed. “But if one tree can fall after so much rain, so can another. We can’t risk losing you. Take Squirrelflight.”

Jayfeather could sense that there was no point arguing. But why Squirrelflight? He couldn’t think of any cat he’d like to travel with less. Except Leafpool.

Was Firestar forcing them together on purpose?

Jayfeather left the leader’s den and picked his way across the clearing. Grief pricked the air, the cats speaking only when necessary.

Foxleap and Icecloud were dragging a rustling branch past the apprentices’ den. They stopped as Jayfeather passed.

“How’s Briarpaw?” Icecloud called.

“No better, no worse.”

Farther on, Thornclaw was gnawing at a branch, trying to loosen it from its thick bough. “How’s Briarpaw?”

Jayfeather hardly broke pace. “No better, no worse.”

“How’s Briarpaw?” Brightheart padded across his path.

Jayfeather growled. “No better, no worse.”

Sympathy flooded from the one-eyed warrior’s pelt. “We ask only because we care.”

Jayfeather’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t like being helpless,” he confessed.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually, there is.” Jayfeather nodded. Brightheart was used to helping in the medicine den. “I have to go out. Can you give Briarpaw poppy seeds if she starts to complain of pain? No more than one at a time. I don’t want to dull her feeling any more than necessary.”

“Okay.”

“And take one to Mousefur as soon as you get a chance,” he added. “She’s still very upset.”

“Right.” Brightheart ducked away toward the medicine den.

Jayfeather wanted to check on the elder himself before he left. He slid into the apprentices’ den, where Purdy and Mousefur were crouched in thickly padded nests.

“It was my fault,” Mousefur was muttering. “All my fault.”

Purdy forced a loud purr. “I bet he’s walking with StarClan now,” he mewed. “Hunting in lush forest, warm and happy.”

“How will he manage without me to guide him?” Mousefur fretted.

“I wish I’d known him longer,” Purdy pressed on. “I heard he made the Great Journey while he was blind.”

“He never seemed to get tired.” Memory distracted the old she-cat for a moment. “Always first up and ready to move on. Never afraid of what lay ahead.”

“What was he like before he lost his sight?” Purdy prompted.

“Eyes like a hawk,” Mousefur remembered. “Could spot prey under a rock a tree-length away.”

Jayfeather felt Purdy’s gaze flit over his pelt. For the first time, Jayfeather thanked StarClan for the garrulous old loner.

“Tell me about his best catch,” Purdy urged Mousefur. “I hear he once caught an eagle.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly an eagle, though he did fight off an owl when it tried to snatch a kit.”

Relieved, Jayfeather backed out of the den.

As he neared the barrier, branches swished. Cloudtail and Brackenfur were heaving them up against the ragged thornbush.

“Wait!” Squirrelflight was hurrying after him. “Sandstorm told me to accompany you to ShadowClan’s camp.”

“I’m going to speak to Littlecloud.” Jayfeather didn’t turn to greet the orange warrior before he ducked through a gap in the barrier.

She hurried after him but kept a few paces behind as they headed into the forest. The wind was cold: the first promise of leaf-bare. Jayfeather shivered, then jumped as a tree creaked beside him. He had never considered the fragility of the trees before. They stood so strong and tall. How could rain have defeated one?

Squirrelflight quickened her pace and fell in beside him. “It’s not right to fear the forest.”

“It’s not right for a tree to crush the camp,” Jayfeather growled. “But it did.”

Squirrelflight moved a little farther away and padded on in silence. Jayfeather relished the tension sparking between them if it meant she would keep her distance. He had not been alone with the cat who had raised him since the truth came out: that she had lied to him and his littermates all their lives, that she wasn’t their mother at all, but their mother’s sister.