Эрин Хантер - Dark River

“How come no one else uses this place?” he wondered.

“I guess no one’s been lucky enough to find it.” Heatherpaw’s mew echoed eerily up ahead.

“Someone must have discovered it before.”

“I’ve never smelled anything here except rock and water.”

Uneasiness tugged at Lionpaw’s pelt. “But it seems unlikely that we’re the first—” Suddenly, the tunnel brightened and opened into a large cave. Lionpaw stopped dead and stared around in astonishment. The rocky walls were lit by moonlight filtering through a small hole in the roof, just like Heatherpaw had said. The floor was smooth, dusty stone, rippled here and there as if giant paw prints had left their shape. And most amazing of all, a river wound across the floor and flowed away into a low, broad tunnel, disappearing into shadow.

A river underground? How could that be?

“Isn’t it brilliant?” Heatherpaw leaped up onto a rocky ledge. “It’ll be like our own camp! We could be DarkClan. I’ll be the leader and you can be my deputy!”

“Deputy? What if I wanted to be leader?” Lionpaw objected, scrabbling past her onto a higher ledge.

“I found the place, so I’m leader!” Heatherpaw jumped at him and knocked him off his perch.

Purring, Lionpaw landed lightly on the floor of the cave.

“Okay, Heather star ,” he mewed. “What’s the plan?”

“Lionpaw, wake up!”

Lionpaw felt a soft paw nudging him in the ribs. He jerked his head up, surprised to find rock walls surrounding him.

Then he remembered. He was in the cave. Heatherpaw was sitting beside him, her eyes bleary with sleep.

“Look!” She jerked her head toward the gap in the roof.

“We dozed off.” The sky outside was pale with early morning light.

Lionpaw leaped to his paws. “I must go home!” He stared anxiously at the many tunnels opening around the walls of the cave. “Which one leads to ThunderClan?”

Heatherpaw padded to a narrow tunnel near the river’s edge. “This way.” She flicked her tail toward a wider tunnel in the facing wall. “I head up there.” Her eyes glittered. “Will you come again tonight?”

“Yes.” Lionpaw could hardly wait. “If I can get away.”

Heatherpaw’s farewell echoed behind him as he hurried away down the tunnel. His denmates must have noticed he wasn’t in his nest. How would he explain it this time?

Hollypaw was bound to be suspicious. He had to come up with a reason to be out of the camp this early or there was no chance he would be able to meet Heatherpaw that night.

The tunnel grew narrower around him and something brushed his pelt. It must be the walls closing in. Had Heatherpaw remembered the right route? Panic started to rise in his chest. What if he couldn’t find his way out again?

Something else brushed his pelt. It didn’t feel like earth. It felt softer, like the pelts of cats pressing against his. Alarm shot through him. He began to run, hurtling into the blackness, fear crushing the breath from him.

Light glowed up ahead. Desperation and relief made his legs weak as he shot out of the hole. Dawn light flooded his eyes, making him blink as he glanced furtively around. No sign of any patrols. Ducking down, he scrabbled under the brambles and began to run for home.

I can’t go back empty-pawed! The thought brought him sliding to a halt.

A sparrow flitted overhead. No one can complain if I feed my Clan.

Lionpaw dropped into a hunting crouch. Still as a rock, he watched the sparrow flutter to the ground and waited as it hopped closer, fighting the urge to spring until it was within reach. The leaves rustled as it bobbed nearer. Lionpaw kneaded the ground with his hind paws. One more hop…

Got you! Springing forward quick as a snake, Lionpaw killed the bird with one swipe. He picked up the limp body in his teeth and bounded toward the camp.

“Hello, Lionpaw.” Whitewing was still guarding the entrance. “I didn’t see you go out.”

Lionpaw’s mew was muffled by his mouthful of feathers.

“I went through the dirtplace tunnel.” His tail pricked at the lie, but he had no choice.

“Looks like someone’s going to have a nice early breakfast,” Whitewing commented.

“Mmmm.” Lionpaw nodded, whisking past her into the camp.

Hollypaw was lying beside the halfrock with Jaypaw. She looked up as Lionpaw entered the camp. Flicking his tail at her, he dropped his catch on the pile.

“You must have been up early,” Jaypaw mewed as he clambered onto the smooth halfrock and began to wash.

“The birds make so much noise, I’m surprised you can sleep through them,” Lionpaw replied, thinking fast.

Hollypaw narrowed her eyes. “After the hunt Brackenfur took me on yesterday, I’d have slept through anything.”

Lionpaw wiped a paw over one ear. Inside, his stomach was a hard knot. He hated lying. He wasn’t doing any harm by playing with Heatherpaw. But he knew his Clanmates wouldn’t see it like that.

I’m loyal to my Clan , Lionpaw told himself. I shouldn’t have to prove it.

But still, the bitter taste of his lie stung in his throat.

Hollypaw yawned and stretched in the den entrance. The early morning sun felt warm on her paws. She looked over her shoulder. Lionpaw was still asleep in his nest.

Cinderpaw was already at the fresh-kill pile.

“Anything there?” Hollypaw called to her friend.

“Only a mouse.” Cinderpaw pawed it uncertainly. “A bit stale, but not too bad.”

Hollypaw padded toward her. “Perhaps we should see if Daisy wants it for the kits first.”

“No, thank you!” Daisy was sunning herself outside the nursery while Ferncloud’s kits tumbled around her. “They can wait for the dawn patrol to return and have something warm and fresh.”

“I don’t mind eating a stale mouse!” Foxkit offered.

“No,” Daisy mewed, “you’ve got a cold. Only warm food for you.”

“But I’m hungry!”

“Greedy, more like!” Icekit teased. The fluffy white kit cuffed her brother around his ear. He turned on her at once and pounced. She squealed and pummeled him with her hind legs.

Daisy moved her tail out of the way as they rolled past her.

“It’ll be a relief when they move into the apprentices’ den,” she mewed. Hollypaw knew that she didn’t mean it. Ferncloud would move back to the warriors’ den, and Daisy would be alone in the empty nursery. She’d always made it clear she wasn’t cut out to be a warrior but, without kits to nurse, what would she be? Hopefully the spring would bring a new litter.

“Hollypaw! Cinderpaw!” Leafpool was looking out from the elders’ den. “Come and clean out the bedding in here.”

“Okay!” Cinderpaw bounded over to her, abandoning the mouse.

“I’ll get fresh moss!” Hollypaw knew that Leafpool kept a fresh stock beside the medicine den. She raced to grab a wad of it, then carried it to the elders’ den.

The honeysuckle that trailed over the elder bush where Longtail and Mousefur slept was bright with new leaf. Fresh tendrils swayed in the light breeze. Buds were forming that would flower come greenleaf and fill the hollow with a wonderful smell. Hollypaw ducked inside and dropped the moss.

Cinderpaw was already busy scrabbling through the bedding, bundling out stale bits.

Leafpool looked up from where she was crouched at Longtail’s side. “Longtail has an infected tick bite.” The tangy aroma of herbs filled the den. “I’m putting a poultice on it, but I want the bedding freshened up so he doesn’t get another one.”