Эрин Хантер - Outcast

She died in the mountains.”

Jaypaw gazed curiously at the cat, wondering if she knew anything about the mountain cats’ ancestors.

“Can we talk to her?”

“She might not wait for us,” Leafpool replied. “She’ll want to take her prey back to the StarClan camp.”

“I want to ask her—” Jaypaw broke off as Feathertail bounded away. But she didn’t follow the other StarClan cats; she headed in a different direction, where the trees and bushes were thicker. “Where is she going?”

“I don’t know.” Leafpool looked troubled. “Feathertail, wait!”

She set off after the silver tabby, and Jaypaw raced along at her side. They plunged through dense undergrowth and came out into a clearing. A stream ran through it, and on the other side the trees gave way to rocky slopes covered in stunted bushes.

“Feathertail!” Leafpool called again.

The she-cat paused on the bank of the stream and looked over her shoulder at them.

“Where are you going?” Leafpool panted, dashing up to her.

Feathertail set down her vole. “This fresh-kill is not for StarClan,” she explained. “I bear a responsibility to other cats, ones who still need the help of the Clans, even though many moons have passed.”

Other cats?

Leafpool touched her nose to Feathertail’s ear. “Are you talking about the Tribe of Rushing Water? Haven’t you done enough for them? You gave your life to save them from Sharptooth!”

“A shared past counts for a lot,” Feathertail replied, her blue eyes glowing with emotion. “Even if it was brief.”

She pressed her muzzle against Leafpool’s, then picked up her prey, leaped lightly across the stream, and was swallowed up in the shadows under the bushes.

Mouse dung! Jaypaw thought. I never got to ask her anything.

Letting out a faint sigh, Leafpool headed back into the trees. As Jaypaw followed her, he picked up a silver glimmer in the corner of his eye. Glancing around, he spotted Rock, crouched under a bush. The ancient cat’s sightless eyes gazed straight at him; then he heaved himself to his paws and padded off in the direction Feathertail had taken.

Jaypaw shivered. Somehow, StarClan, the ancient cats, and the Tribe of Rushing Water all seemed to be merging to shape the destiny of the cats by the lake. It made sense to Jaypaw. To have the power of the stars in his paws, he would need to have power over all the ancestors, past and present.

Shadows pressed around him as he plunged into the undergrowth again. The lush forest scents faded away, and he felt rock beneath his paws. He could hear the gentle splash of the waterfall and knew he was crouching once again beside the Moonpool. He opened his eyes on darkness.

Around him he could hear the other cats waking from their dreams. They said little, and Leafpool didn’t speak to him at all as they climbed the spiral path and set off across the moorland, back toward the lake. Jaypaw could feel her anxiety like a swarm of stinging insects.

He waited impatiently for the other cats to say their good-byes and head off toward their own territories. As soon as he and Leafpool were alone, he demanded, “What do you think your dream meant? Are you going to tell Firestar?”

Leafpool hesitated, and when she spoke her voice was troubled. “It sounds as if the Tribe of Rushing Water is in some sort of trouble,” she replied. “I’m not sure whether I should tell Firestar. Whatever’s happening, it doesn’t seem as if ThunderClan cats will be affected.”

Jaypaw twitched his tail in frustration. How could he discover his destiny if his mentor was going to pretend she never had the dream? “What about Stormfur and Brook? If there’s something wrong in the mountains, they should be told.”

“I don’t know.” Her mew was soft and uncertain. “You could be right. Yes, perhaps I should tell Firestar. But ThunderClan isn’t involved, so I don’t think he’ll do anything.”

ThunderClan might be more involved than Leafpool realized, Jaypaw thought, as he followed his mentor along the border stream toward the camp.

At least I’m involved!

He bared his teeth as if he were about to snap up a juicy piece of prey. There was only one way to discover the truth about his power. Somehow, he would have to find a way to go to the mountains.

Poppypaw dived forward; Lionpaw could see she was trying to use the move he had taught her in their earlier training session, the one Tigerstar had shown him. But when she tried to hook out Honeypaw’s legs from under her, Honeypaw was too fast.

Leaping backward, she met Poppypaw head-on and delivered two blows to her nose before darting away.

“You’ll need to be quicker than that,” Berrynose meowed.

Lionpaw bristled. Firestar had released the two young warriors from their apprentice duties, but didn’t Berrynose have anything better to do than interfere in the training session? He was sprawled on a rock at the edge of the clearing, making loud comments on the apprentices’ performance.

“That was very good,” he remarked condescendingly to Honeypaw. “Your moves are coming along nicely.”

“Thanks, Berrynose!” Honeypaw blinked adoringly at the cream-colored warrior.

Lionpaw stifled a twinge of jealousy. Not long ago, Honeypaw had seemed to like him best. It was hard to lose her admiration so soon after he had been forced to give up his friendship with Heatherpaw.

“Your turn, Lionpaw!” Berrynose broke into his thoughts.

“Let’s see what you can do.”

Who made you my mentor? Lionpaw glanced around the clearing for Ashfur, who should have been in charge of the training session, but he was several fox-lengths away, demonstrating a move to Hollypaw.

“Come on, you lazy lump,” Berrynose urged him. “You’ll never get to be a warrior sitting on your tail all day.”

No? Lionpaw gritted his teeth. If I looked at you, I’d think that’s all warriors do!

“Come on, Cinderpaw,” he meowed, beckoning with his tail to the gray apprentice who sat at the side of the clearing.

“Let’s practice.”

Cinderpaw bounced up to him, her fur bristling with eagerness and her tail fluffed out. She was moving confidently, Lionpaw thought, as if the leg she had injured felt fine.

As she approached, she aimed a blow at his ear with sheathed claws. He dodged to one side and tried to unbalance her by butting his head into her shoulder, but Cinderpaw stayed on her feet and wrapped her forepaws around his neck, thrusting him to the ground. Lionpaw battered at her belly with his hind paws. After a few heartbeats Cinderpaw let go and sprang away from him, waiting for him to get up again.

“That was great!” he panted. He knew he would have won eventually.

Cinderpaw was glowing with pride that she was getting her fighting skill back again. “Let’s try again!”

“You know, Lionpaw, you got that move all wrong,” Berrynose interrupted. “You should never have let her knock you over. If that had been a real fight, she could have bitten your throat out.”

Lionpaw spun around to face him; hot fury flooded through him from ears to tail tip. “I suppose you found that out when you were fighting ShadowClan,” he taunted.

Berrynose sprang off the rock, his ears flattened and his neck fur standing on end. “Don’t talk to a warrior like that!” he spat.

“Then stop being such a know-it-all!” Lionpaw retorted.

“You’re not my mentor, so stay out of my fur.”

For two mouse tails he would have hurled himself at Berrynose and raked his claws across the cream warrior’s muzzle. But he knew he would be in big trouble if he attacked a Clanmate for real, not as part of a training bout. Turning his back on Berrynose, he stormed off to the side of the clearing, where he stood with his flanks heaving, trying to control the waves of rage that surged through him.