Эрин Хантер - Outcast

Lionpaw muttered, “Sorry,” and gave his chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks, while Breezepaw just ignored her. They were all tired and hungry, Hollypaw thought, and more tempers were likely to snap if they didn’t reach the Tribe’s home soon.

Talon led the cats to the far end of the ridge where a narrow trail led downward, only wide enough for one cat to follow at a time. As Hollypaw waited for her turn she heard the beating of wings overhead. A black shadow passed over her.

With a startled yowl she flattened herself against the rock.

She saw her mother throw herself on top of Jaypaw.

Daring to lift her head, Hollypaw saw an enormous brown bird with its wings spread wide as it skimmed the ridge and headed for the rocks below. Cruel, hooked talons stretched to seize the body of a mouse that lay a few tail-lengths farther down. Hollypaw’s belly rumbled. Though Clan cats didn’t eat crow-food, she was so hungry that she wouldn’t have said no to that mouse.

As the eagle’s talons closed around the limp body, four cats erupted from the shadows among the rocks. Hollypaw’s jaws gaped and her eyes stretched wide with amazement as they seized the huge bird. It let out a harsh screech and its wings beat frantically as it tried to take off. It managed to rise a tail-length above the ground, but the weight of cats dragging it down was too much. It flopped back onto the rock in a flurry of wings. The thin, gray-brown cats swarmed all over it. One of them pounced on its neck and bit down. There was a last spasm of struggling and then the eagle went limp.

“Great catch!” Talon yowled.

All four cats froze, looking upward. One of them called out, “Talon!” They sounded astonished, staring at one another and the group of cats on the ridge.

Stormfur came to stand beside Hollypaw. “Welcome to the Tribe of Rushing Water,” he meowed.

Lionpaw followed Talon as he picked his way down the trail to the rocks below. The cats who had killed the eagle were waiting for them, their eyes guarded and their tails twitching.

A pale gray tom stepped forward to touch noses with Talon. “It’s good to see you again,” he mewed. There was warmth in his voice. “And you, Night,” he added, as the black she-cat padded up to join them.

“Thank you, Gray,” Talon replied.

Lionpaw eyed the Tribe cats doubtfully. They were smaller and skinnier than most Clan cats, and their gray-brown pelts were smeared with mud so that they almost faded into the rocky background. Their eyes glowed strangely, reflecting the red light of the setting sun. As one of them turned to look at him, he took a step toward Squirrelflight. She bent her head and licked his ear, and for a heartbeat he felt ashamed.

I’m not a kit anymore.

Besides, he told himself, they were there to help these cats.

The cat Talon had called Gray was staring at the other cats who had descended the trail behind Night. “Stormfur!” he exclaimed, his eyes stretched wide. “Brook! What are you doing here? You’re… you’re supposed to be dead.”

The Tribe cats edged closer together, their fur bristling.

Lionpaw felt a flash of irritation. Just because Stoneteller had said Stormfur and Brook were dead to the Tribe didn’t mean they were actually dead. Did these cats believe everything their leader told them?

Stormfur looked at Brook, and there was weariness in his expression. “No, we’re not dead,” he meowed, turning back to the Tribe cats. “We were outcasts for a while, that’s all.”

The cats stepped forward, stretching their necks to sniff at Stormfur’s pelt. Their questions came slowly at first, then faster, like rain in greenleaf.

“Are you okay?”

“Where did you go?”

“Why have you come back?”

“Talon and Night came to fetch us.” Brook spoke for the first time. “They said you needed us.”

The Tribe cats exchanged uncertain glances. Lionpaw waited for them to say, Yes, thank you, we hoped you’d come back to help. But they didn’t. Instead, they turned their attention to the Clan cats.

Gray stepped forward to give Brambleclaw a cautious sniff. “Hey, I’ve met you before. You’re one of those cats who traveled through here a few seasons ago.”

“That’s right.” Brambleclaw dipped his head. “And I remember you… you’re Gray Sky Before Dawn, right?”

“Right!” Gray looked surprised that Brambleclaw had remembered his name. “Did… did you find the home you were looking for?”

“We did, thanks,” Brambleclaw replied. “A good place, by a lake.”

Gray put his head on one side. “Then why are you here now? And what have you done with all the others?”

“We came because—” Tawnypelt began to speak, then fell silent as Brook shot her a warning glance. Her tail tip twitched irritably.

“They’re just passing through,” Brook explained.

Lionpaw bristled; Hollypaw leaned closer to him and murmured in his ear, “She doesn’t want to offend the Tribe cats by telling them they need help from outsiders. It’s enough of a shock that she and Stormfur have come back from the dead, by the look of it.”

But they obviously need our help! These cats were so skinny he could count their ribs. They were no match for the trespassers. Lionpaw’s fur felt hot with anger as he remembered the mocking looks of Stripes and Flick and the insolent way they’d spoken.

They think they can do what they want, and no cat will stop them!

By now the red sunset light was beginning to fade, leaving the mountains wrapped in twilight. Talon waved his tail as a signal for the journeying cats to move off again.

“See you later in the cave, Gray,” he meowed. His tone was decisive, making it clear that he wasn’t going to answer any more questions now.

The Tribe cats went back to their prey and began dragging it across the rocks. The eagle’s feathers made a soft rustling sound on the stone. Lionpaw skirted the bird at a safe distance as he passed. Even though it was dead, he didn’t like the look of the sharp, crooked talons or the bright beady eye that seemed to stare at him.

As he padded across the rocky plateau beside his littermates, Lionpaw heard a noise like thunder. He looked up, but the sky was clear, with stars beginning to shine above the peaks. The roaring noise grew louder and the air grew damp until beads of moisture hung on Lionpaw’s fur.

They were close to the edge of the plateau. Hollypaw ran forward to peer over the edge. “Come and look at this!” she called.

Lionpaw bounded over to join her. He stopped with a jerk and looked back to check that Jaypaw wasn’t too close to the edge. Just in front of his paws, the rocks fell away into a narrow, winding valley, leading steeply downward. A stream foamed along the bottom, throwing up spray where it dashed against rocks and swirling around the roots of straggling bushes that clung to the banks. The thundering noise came from farther down the valley, where the stream vanished over a lip of rock.

“That’s the waterfall.” Squirrelflight raised her voice and pointed with her tail. “We’re almost there.”

Still in the lead, Talon picked his way down the rocks to the stream. There was a tiny path, narrow as a bramble, clinging to the edge of the water. “Watch where you’re putting your paws,” he called.

“Do you remember when we first came here?” Squirrelflight asked Brambleclaw.

The tabby tom’s whiskers twitched. “Will I ever forget it?”

“It was on the way back from the sun-drown-place,” Squirrelflight explained to the apprentices. “It had been raining hard and a surge of floodwater swept us into the stream. We went right over the waterfall and ended up in the pool below.”