Эрин Хантер - Outcast

“Remember,” Brambleclaw meowed, glancing solemnly around the cave. “This isn’t about the warrior code or the Tribe’s code. It’s about life or death, just like the trespassers said. And you—the Tribe—you will be the ones who live!”

He stood motionless, amber eyes glowing, as the Tribe cats yowled their approval.

Moonlight shimmered through the falling water, shedding silver light across the cave. The cats who were heading into battle gathered near the cave mouth, waiting for their turn to walk the Path of Rushing Water. Standing beside Lionpaw, Hollypaw sensed her brother’s quivering excitement at the thought of fighting in a real battle. His tail was fluffed up to twice its size and his amber eyes glittered.

“Here.” Hollypaw jumped as a tail touched her shoulder; she spun around to see Jaypaw. “Come over here,” he repeated, beckoning with his tail. “There’s something I want to say.” There was a suppressed tension about him, too, as if he was facing a battle of his own.

“What is it?” Lionpaw asked, glancing back at where the cats were vanishing along the path. “We have to go.”

“This won’t take a heartbeat,” Jaypaw promised, as he drew them into a quiet corner of the cave, sheltered by a boulder. “You have to take care,” he went on, when both his littermates were crouched beside him. “Remember that you don’t have StarClan to watch over you here.”

“We have the Tribe of Endless Hunting,” Hollypaw reminded him.

“Oh, no.” Jaypaw flicked his ears. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting has given up. They won’t lift a claw to help you.”

How can he possibly know that? Hollypaw wondered. But there was no time to question him. In any case, she had learned not to ask how Jaypaw discovered the things he knew.

“Look, there’s no need to worry about us—” Lionpaw began.

“I’m not worried .” Jaypaw’s sightless blue eyes were oddly serious. “You must come back, whatever happens. It’s more important than you realize.”

“We’re not going to run away, you know,” Lionpaw meowed.

Jaypaw let out a furious hiss. “Will you listen …”

His intensity scared Hollypaw. She wanted to know whatever it was that he wasn’t telling them. But just then she heard her name called from the direction of the waterfall.

“Hollypaw! Lionpaw!” Brambleclaw was waiting, his tail twitching.

“Coming!” she called.

She and Lionpaw scrambled to their paws and shot across the cave floor to head out along the path. As she padded underneath the arch of thundering water, she thought she heard Jaypaw’s voice raised in one last yowl.

“You must come back!”

Beneath the full moon the mountains were washed with silver, patched with the deep shadows of jutting rocks. Lionpaw padded at his father’s shoulder.

“Remember,” Brambleclaw mewed, glancing back at him and Hollypaw, “you’re not trying to prove anything. Don’t try to take on a cat you can’t handle. Not if you can help it.”

“We don’t want to get our ears clawed off,” Hollypaw pointed out, with a whisk of her tail.

“Be careful you don’t, then.” Brambleclaw’s amber gaze was warm. “How would I face Firestar if I didn’t bring you all home safe?”

Anticipation shivered through Lionpaw from ears to tail tip. Every paw step was bringing him closer to his first real battle. He longed with every hair on his pelt to make his father and his Clan proud of him. Yet he wasn’t just fighting for his Clan and the warrior code. He was fighting for the Tribe, too, alongside Tribe cats who had become his friends. Their enemies had become his enemies, because the intruders had shown that they had no code of honor; they couldn’t admit the justice of dividing the mountains into separate territories.

A few tail-lengths away he spotted Breezepaw. The WindClan apprentice was ready for battle too, with bristling fur and his lips already drawn back in a fierce snarl. He was padding just behind Crowfeather, yet his father didn’t offer him any encouragement. Lionpaw felt a pang of sympathy.

Maybe Breezepaw wouldn’t be such an annoying furball if he had Brambleclaw for a father instead of Crowfeather.

A shadow drifted over the rocks and Lionpaw looked up to see a cloud covering the moon. A chill crept through him, as though his pads had touched ice. Did that mean that StarClan was angry because they were breaking the full moon truce? But StarClan doesn’t walk these skies , he remembered. Jaypaw had warned them that they would be alone. Besides, a moment later the cloud had drifted away and the moon shone brightly again. Sometimes a cloud is just a cloud .

The moon floated high in the sky by the time the battle-hungry cats reached the intruders’ camp. Everything was quiet. Lionpaw gazed at the narrow cleft between the tilted rocks, but he could make out nothing in the darkness inside.

“I can’t see any sign of guards,” Hollypaw whispered.

“They probably don’t think they need them,” Lionpaw murmured. “After all, Tribe cats are too weak to give any trouble, right?”

Hollypaw’s green eyes gleamed with amusement. “We’ll see about that!”

Brambleclaw gathered the cats around him with a gesture of his tail and led them into the shadow of a rock. “Crag and I will divide you into attacking patrols,” he mewed. “Tribe and Clan, apprentices and to-bes, in each group. That way we’ll have the best spread of skills. The plan is to lure the trespassers out here and then attack them, otherwise we’ll be fighting in the dark on enemy ground.”

Lionpaw glanced again at the dark cleft and then back at Brambleclaw. “That can’t be right,” he objected.

Brambleclaw cocked his head. “No?”

“No, because the cleft can’t be totally dark. Their dens are in there—they can’t be stumbling around blind, can they?”

Brambleclaw narrowed his eyes. “You’re right. There must be a shaft that lets in light and air.”

“We should go look for it!” Lionpaw’s pads were tingling with excitement.

His father thought for a moment longer, then nodded.

“Okay. We shouldn’t attack without knowing exactly what we’re up against. If there’s another entrance, they might be able to get out that way and attack us from behind.” He angled his ears toward the rocks. “Let’s go. Hollypaw, Breezepaw, you come too.”

“And me!” Pebble sprang up. “I know rocks,” she added. “I might be able to help.”

“Come on, then,” Brambleclaw meowed. “Crag, you start dividing up the patrols. And every cat keep as quiet as if you were stalking prey. This attack will start when we’re ready and not before.”

Cautiously the five cats crept across the open ground in front of the cleft and onto a narrow trail that led upward beside one of the tilted rocks. Lionpaw was poised to spring into battle if there was any movement from the cleft, but it remained dark and silent.

The tilted rocks were set against a boulder-strewn slope leading to a ridge. The trail wound between the boulders until it emerged at the top, close to where the two rocks joined. Lionpaw crept toward them, his belly fur brushing the ground.

“Breezepaw, keep watch below,” Brambleclaw whispered.

“Tell me if there’s any sign of the intruders.”

Looking pleased to be singled out, Breezepaw wriggled forward on his belly until he could overlook the ground at the bottom of the slope. Brambleclaw and the apprentices spread out, examining the area around the tilted rocks.