Эрин Хантер: Fading Echoes

Jayfeather’s eyes flashed. “And how would you explain what you know?”

Dovepaw frowned. “Shouldn’t Firestar know about my power?” Firestar had assumed that she had learned about the beavers in a dream sent by StarClan, and Dovepaw had said nothing to change his mind. But how likely was it that she would dream about the death of another Clan’s leader?

“No.” Jayfeather plucked up a leaf, dark with the beginnings of rot, and flung it to the edge of the den. “Things are complicated enough.”

“Doesn’t he know about your powers?”

Jayfeather began to sweep dust away from the leaves with his tail. “He doesn’t even know we’re the Three.”

Worry dropped like a cold stone in Dovepaw’s belly. “Doesn’t know?” Why not? Why should they hide their powers if they were going to protect the future of the Clans? And the prophecy had come to Firestar first of all. “Surely StarClan wouldn’t have shared the prophecy with him if they hadn’t wanted him to know—”

Jayfeather cut her off. “You should join a patrol,” he mewed. “I’ll finish up here.”

She opened her mouth to argue but Jayfeather went on. “I can hear Brambleclaw coming out of his den. He won’t want to be kept waiting.”

Reluctantly, Dovepaw turned away. Jayfeather wasn’t going to give any more answers. As she nosed her way out of the medicine den, she saw Brambleclaw sitting beside the tumbled rocks leading to Highledge. Cinderheart was pacing in front of him while the other warriors emerged from their dens to hear their duties for the day. She saw the flash of surprise in the deputy’s eyes as she padded out of Jayfeather’s den.

“Are you okay?” Brambleclaw called.

Dovepaw forced her ears to stop twitching. “Just a bit of a bellyache,” she lied. “It’s better now.”

Brambleclaw nodded. “In that case you can join the patrol with me and Lionblaze.”

“Did someone say my name?” Lionblaze was emerging from the warriors’ den, yawning.

“You’re joining the dawn patrol,” Brambleclaw told him.

The golden warrior’s eyes brightened. Then he spotted Dovepaw and frowned, his gaze questioning. He could clearly sense that something was up. She gave a quick shake of her head.

The nursery rustled and Poppyfrost’s kits tumbled out with their mother padding behind them. The tortoiseshell queen was wearily shaking her head. “Why do kits have to wake up so early?” She steered Cherrykit and Molekit with her tail as they began to skip toward the warriors gathered by the rocks. “Stay out of the way,” she warned.

“But I want to hear Brambleclaw,” Cherrykit complained.

“We won’t disturb them,” Molekit promised.

Dovepaw stared blankly at the kits. The knowledge of Leopardstar’s death churned inside her while her Clanmates surrounded her, aware of nothing but the hunting patrols that lay ahead. She suddenly felt as though she were trapped behind a waterfall, separated from her Clanmates by the glistening torrent, her voice drowned by its thundering.

Ivypaw bounced up to her. “It’s so early!” she complained. But her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Doesn’t the forest smell great?” She took a deep breath and licked her lips. “The air tastes of prey.”

Brambleclaw nodded toward the silver-and-white apprentice. “Perhaps you and Cinderheart should join our border patrol.”

“Yes, please!” Ivypaw looked at her sister. “I bet I catch the first prey today,” she teased.

Cinderheart padded past them, flicking her tail. “We won’t be hunting until we’re sure the borders are safe,” she reminded her apprentice.

“Yes, but after that.” Ivypaw bounded after the gray tabby she-cat.

Dovepaw followed, catching up to Lionblaze at the thorn tunnel. Brambleclaw, Cinderheart, and Ivypaw were already filing out of the camp.

Should I tell Lionblaze about Leopardstar?

“Come on, Dovepaw!” Ivypaw was calling her.

No. I’ll tell him later.

She slid past her mentor and plunged after her sister into the still-dripping undergrowth. The rainstorms had left the forest soft and yielding, the earth springy underpaw and fragrant. The sun was beginning to warm the forest so that steam drifted up through the branches.

Newly fallen leaves littered the ground, some still green, shriveled by the recent drought and battered early from their branches by the torrential rain. Dovepaw kicked her way through them as she reached Ivypaw. Purring loudly, she flung a pawful over her sister’s back.

“Hey!” Ivypaw shook the leaves from her pelt and sent another bundle showering over Dovepaw. Then she turned tail and ran.

Dovepaw pelted after her sister as Ivypaw bounded onto a fallen tree, her claws scattering bark shreds that caught in Dovepaw’s whiskers. Leaping up beside Ivypaw, Dovepaw nudged her sister off balance and yowled with amusement as she watched Ivypaw wobble, then dive dramatically down the other side.

Ivypaw squeaked, staggering into a thick clump of ferns and disappearing behind the fronds.

“Ivypaw?” Dovepaw sniffed at the ferns, her tail stiffening as she detected no movement. “Are you okay?”

The ferns shivered and exploded as Ivypaw hurtled out and rolled Dovepaw onto her back. Triumphant, Ivypaw pinned her littermate to the ground. “Even Cherrykit wouldn’t fall for the play-dead trick!” she purred.

Dovepaw pushed with her hind paws, knocking Ivypaw away easily, aware of how strong she’d grown from the long journey to find the beavers. Ivypaw scrambled to her paws, scooting out of the way as Dovepaw leaped at her.

“Ha! Missed!” Ivypaw crowed before scrambling down the slope that led lakeward.

Dovepaw raced after her, bounding down to where the trees began to thin. She nearly bundled straight into Ivypaw, who had skidded to a halt.

“Wow!” The silver-and-white apprentice was staring open-mouthed at the lake.

The vast, dried-out lakebed, which had been dotted with shallow muddy pools where fish had huddled while the Clans paced jealously, had vanished.

Shining silver water rippled in its place, gleaming in the dawn sunshine. The lake was brimful, shivering beneath overhanging trees and bushes, lapping lazily at the shores. It heaved and swirled, and the taste of it bathed Dovepaw’s tongue, as fresh and rich with the promise of life as the damp forest.

“Come on!” Ivypaw was already dashing out from the trees.

Dovepaw gave chase, her paws slipping on the damp grass so that she nearly toppled over the short sandy bank at the top of the shore. Pebbles clacked as she landed at the water’s edge and sprinted after Ivypaw.

“I’ve never seen so much water!” Waves were lapping at Ivypaw’s claws.

Dovepaw hung back, remembering the torrent released from the beavers’ dam that had toppled trees, uprooted bushes, swirled like a storm around her as it carried her back to the forest. Then the water had been terrifying, a foaming beast roaring with fury at being pent up behind the dam for so long. Now the lake lay peacefully, like a plump silver tabby, curled beneath the blue sky.

“Where did all the water come from?” Ivypaw pressed. “The sky? The stream?”

Dovepaw cocked her head, listening. She could hear streams splashing and tumbling all around the lake, refreshed by the recent rains. “The streams are back,” she told Ivypaw. “Not just ours, but all of them, thanks to the rainstorms.”

“Good.” Ivypaw nodded. “I hope the lake never goes away again.” She bent her head to lap from the sparkling water, then leaped away as a tiny wave splashed her muzzle.

An angry yowl sounded from behind them. Dovepaw spun around and saw Brambleclaw bounding toward them, with Cinderheart and Lionblaze on his tail.