Эрин Хантер - Outcast

“Sure,” he muttered, hoping his mentor wouldn’t detect the lie. “Everything’s fine.”

Leafpool hesitated. Jaypaw felt his fur begin to prickle defensively. But the medicine cat only sighed and mewed, “Go and eat, then. Later, when it’s a bit cooler, we’ll go up to the old Twoleg nest and collect some catmint.”

Before she had finished speaking, Jaypaw was on his paws and pushing his way out past the brambles. He padded over to the fresh-kill pile, sniffed out a plump mouse, and carried it back to a sunny spot outside his den to eat it. Sunhigh was just past, and the stone hollow was filled with warmth. His belly comfortably full, Jaypaw lay on his side and cleaned his whiskers with one paw.

Cinderpaw and Hollypaw had just pushed their way in through the thorn tunnel. Even at a distance Jaypaw could pick up the mossy scent of the training hollow clinging to their fur.

“I’m sorry I beat you every time,” Hollypaw meowed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cinderpaw insisted. “I wouldn’t be okay if you let me win by not fighting your best.”

Her voice sounded brave, but Jaypaw could tell from her paw steps that Cinderpaw’s injured leg was troubling her.

There was nothing more the medicine cats could do; only time could strengthen the leg. Or was Cinderpaw destined never to be a warrior, like Cinderpelt before her?

Jaypaw was distracted from Cinderpaw’s problem by the sound of shrill squeals coming from the nursery. He winced.

Daisy’s kits were only four sunrises old, but they had huge voices. Their father, Spiderleg, had insisted on taking Mousepaw out for his assessment, even though Dustpelt had offered to take his place so he could spend more time in the nursery. Jaypaw thought Spiderleg seemed awkward around his kits, as if he couldn’t adjust to the idea of being a father.

In any case, Jaypaw thought, the nursery was pretty crowded. Icekit and Foxkit, Ferncloud’s latest litter, were still there, though they were nearly old enough to become apprentices. And Millie, who was expecting Graystripe’s kits, had just moved in. Jaypaw knew that Firestar was proud of how strong ThunderClan was becoming, though he sometimes worried about how they would all be fed.

More rustling came from the thorn tunnel and Lionpaw staggered into the camp with his mentor, Ashfur, just behind him.

“Two mice and a squirrel!” Ashfur meowed. “Well done, Lionpaw. That’s the sort of hunting I expect from you.”

In spite of the words of praise, Ashfur didn’t sound enthusiastic. Jaypaw thought that his brother and Ashfur had never gotten on as well as mentor and apprentice should. There was something there that puzzled him, and something in Ashfur that he couldn’t read.

But it was probably unimportant. Jaypaw dismissed the question from his mind as his brother flopped down beside him, a mouse in his jaws.

“I’m worn out!” Lionpaw announced. “I thought I’d have to chase that squirrel all the way to ShadowClan.”

“Why bother?” Jaypaw asked. “It’s not your assessment today.”

“I know,” Lionpaw mumbled around a mouthful of fresh-kill. “But that’s not the point. A good warrior will always do as much as he can to feed the Clan.”

And Lionpaw wanted to be the best warrior he could.

Jaypaw knew that, and he knew how tense and determined his brother had been ever since they found the kits in the tunnels. He knew the reason, too, even without reading Lionpaw’s mind: His brother had decided to concentrate on his training to make up for meeting the WindClan apprentice Heatherpaw in secret.

Jaypaw’s whiskers twitched in sympathy. As a medicine cat, he was allowed to have friends outside his Clan, though he couldn’t imagine wanting to. How could anyone trust a cat from a different Clan?

The patter of a falling pebble alerted him that Firestar was bounding down from the Highledge. His voice came from close to the warriors’ den.

“We need a border patrol. Which of you—”

Beside Jaypaw, Lionpaw leaped to his feet. “I’ll go!”

For a moment Jaypaw wondered why Firestar was organizing a patrol, until he remembered that the Clan deputy, Brambleclaw, was out in the forest giving Berrypaw his assessment.

“Thanks, Lionpaw,” Firestar meowed, “but I can see you’ve been working hard today.”

Lionpaw sat down again; Jaypaw could tell he was disappointed.

“I’ll go.” Graystripe spoke as he pushed his way out of the warriors’ den.

“So will I.” Squirrelflight was just behind him.

“And I’ll come with Honeypaw.” Jaypaw heard Sandstorm padding up from the direction of the apprentices’ den, with her apprentice at her side.

“Good,” meowed Firestar. “I think you should take a look at the border with WindClan. Everything’s been quiet since the kits were found, but you never know.”

“We’ll make sure the scent marks are fresh,” Graystripe promised. “And if we see—”

He broke off at the sound of excited meows and loud rustling from the thorn tunnel. Jaypaw sat up, jaws parted to distinguish the different scents of the newcomers. Berrypaw was first into the clearing, with Hazelpaw and Mousepaw bundling just behind him. They were followed by their mentors, Brambleclaw, Dustpelt, and Spiderleg.

“We did it!” Berrypaw’s triumphant yowl echoed around the stone hollow. “We all passed our assessment, and now we’ll be warriors!”

“Berrypaw.” Brambleclaw sounded stern. “That’s for Firestar to decide.”

“Sorry.” Jaypaw could feel Berrypaw’s sudden dejection and pictured him with head and tail drooping. “But we will get to be warriors, won’t we?”

“Maybe we should assess how well you can keep your mouth shut,” Dustpelt snapped.

“It’s okay.” Firestar sounded amused. “If the mentors will come and speak to me, we’ll arrange the warrior ceremony.”

“What about the border patrol?” Graystripe asked.

“It can wait till dusk. We’re not expecting trouble, after all.”

All the apprentices were gathering in an excited cluster near their den. Lionpaw pelted across to join them. Jaypaw rose, stretched, and followed more slowly.

“…and two voles,” Berrypaw was meowing as Jaypaw came into earshot. “I’d have had a thrush as well if he hadn’t frightened it away.”

Jaypaw’s neck fur bristled, but before he could speak Hollypaw jumped to his defense. “What does it matter? You passed the assessment.”

Jaypaw’s tail tip twitched. I can look after myself, thanks .

“I got a humongous vole.” Hazelpaw was too excited to notice the hostility between Berrypaw and Jaypaw. “And I brought down a blackbird just as it was flying away. Dustpelt said he’d never seen such a good leap.”

“That’s great!” mewed Honeypaw.

“I caught a squirrel,” Mousepaw boasted. Jaypaw remembered how the apprentice had climbed the Sky Oak in pursuit of a squirrel, and then was too scared to climb down again. Cinderpaw had broken her leg going up to fetch him when a branch gave way and she fell. Jaypaw would have bet a moon of searching the elders’ fur for ticks that the squirrel Mousepaw caught had been on the ground.

“I wish we were being assessed, don’t you?” Hollypaw murmured to Lionpaw. “Sometimes I think we’ll never be warriors.”

“I know.” Lionpaw sounded just as envious; then a jolt of determination shot through him. “We’ll just have to work harder, that’s all.”

Jaypaw didn’t join in the conversation. His paws were set on a different path. He wouldn’t finish his medicine cat training for a long, long time, and when he received his proper name he would still be Leafpool’s apprentice. He wouldn’t be a full medicine cat until she died. Even though his fur prickled at the thought of his littermates moving on without him, he didn’t want his mentor to die.