Эрин Хантер - Dark River

The rock beneath his paws was covered in fine silt, the walls so narrow they grazed his pelt as he crept slowly forward.

“Can’t you go any faster?” Breezepaw’s mew was as jagged as the walls.

“Shh!” He tried to block out the fear pulsing from the other cats, and padded on, feeling the path slope downward, the tunnel widen, cold air jab his pelt as they passed under a slit in the roof. Was this really the right way? The draft flowing through the tunnel like water carried no kit scent, only forest air seeping through fissures in the roof.

Suddenly, a pelt brushed his flank.

Jaypaw bristled. “ I’m leading, Breezepaw!” He barged the cat away.

“What are you talking about? I’m back here!” Breezepaw snapped from behind.

Hollypaw’s nose brushed his tail-tip. “There’s no one near you, Jaypaw.”

Surprised, Jaypaw tasted the air. A new scent bathed his tongue. Not a Clan scent, but still faintly familiar. He tasted the air again, his pelt pricking with unease as the other cat pressed against him, matching him step for step.

“I will walk with you, my friend, as you once walked with me,” the voice whispered in his ear.

Fallen Leaves! Jaypaw’s heart lurched. The memory of a great, black wave engulfing him made him stop dead. He fought the urge to turn and run, to pelt back to the cave and the forest and the safety of the open sky.

“I could not leave you here to walk alone, when you walked with me like a brother.”

Jaypaw blinked, trying to see. “Am I dreaming?”

“No,” Fallen Leaves whispered. “I have come to help. I know where the kits are.”

“Why have we stopped?” Breezepaw mewed crossly from behind.

Hollypaw’s nose flicked Jaypaw’s tail. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he told her, then he lowered his mew to less than a whisper, breathing the words so that only Fallen Leaves could hear. “Have you seen them?”

“I know where they are.” Fallen Leaves pressed his pelt to Jaypaw’s, urging him forward. “But we must hurry.”

Jaypaw resisted. “Why should I trust you? You couldn’t even get yourself out of these tunnels!”

“I have walked them ever since,” Fallen Leaves murmured sadly, “and I know them better than the moors above us.”

Jaypaw steadied his breath. “You’ve really seen the kits?”

“They are alive, but they are cold. We must hurry.”

Instinct alone might not be enough down here. Touching his tail to Fallen Leaves’s flank, Jaypaw let the tom guide him forward into a tunnel that branched to one side. The passage sloped steeply down; Jaypaw’s pads slipped on the floor. The rock was slick with rain.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Breezepaw called.

“Can you still smell them?” Lionpaw asked anxiously.

“They went this way,” Jaypaw replied.

Fallen Leaves swerved again, nudging him toward another tunnel. “Duck!” he warned. Jaypaw dipped his head just in time, squeezing through a shallow gap.

“Keep down!” he warned his Clanmates as he wriggled beneath the pressing rock. The gap grew lower and lower until he was scrabbling on his belly.

“This feels like a dead end!” Hollypaw panted as she squeezed after him.

“It opens up in a moment,” Fallen Leaves promised in Jaypaw’s ear.

Jaypaw smelled the sweet scent of heather and felt rain on his face. There must be an opening in the roof ahead. He slithered out of the gap, relieved to feel space around him.

“Which way now?” Heatherpaw’s fur brushed the rock as she squirmed out after him.

“There are three tunnels,” Lionpaw told him.

Jaypaw tasted the air, but there was no scent of the kits.

“This way,” Fallen Leaves whispered. Jaypaw felt his whiskers brush rock on either side as he let Fallen Leaves guide him into another tunnel.

“How do you know we’re going the right way?” Breezepaw’s mew was sharp, but Jaypaw could sense the panic throbbing beneath his pelt. It came from every cat, filling the darkness with a suffocating dread that Jaypaw tried to block from his mind.

“I can smell them,” he lied. He mustn’t let their fear overwhelm him. Listen to Fallen Leaves!

The tunnel twisted and veered upward, then widened. Air filtered through a gap overhead. The patter of paw steps slowed behind him.

“I knew it was a dead end,” Heatherpaw sighed, stopping.

Jaypaw halted. A boulder was blocking the tunnel ahead.

He sensed its unyielding bulk.

“We’ll never get past that,” Breezepaw mewed.

Rain pounded overhead, dripping through a gap into the tunnel and echoing off the rocks as Jaypaw sniffed the wet stone. He ran his nose along the boulder, following its smooth contours until his whiskers touched the tunnel wall.

A tiny gap opened between boulder and wall, too small to squeeze through.

“Now what?” Breezepaw snapped. “Do you think you can lead us back?” He didn’t sound convinced. “Or did you just bring us here to show us this boulder? Let me guess, it’s a special StarClan rock and it’s going to tell us where the kits are.”

“Shut up!” Heatherpaw hissed at her Clanmate.

“Why?” Breezepaw snarled. “We’re lost underground! Do you want me to thank him?”

“Shh!” Hollypaw mewed suddenly.

“I’ll say what I like!” Breezepaw retorted. “Just because he’s your brother—”

“I can hear something!” Hollypaw hissed.

“What is it?” Lionpaw’s pelt was tingling with excitement.

Jaypaw strained to hear.

A tiny squeaking sound, just louder than the rain, echoed ahead of him.

The kits?

“Anyone there?” he called.

The squeak turned into an excited mewling.

They were behind the boulder!

Jaypaw felt Fallen Leaves breathe in his ear. “I told you I’d help you find them.”

“I think I can climb over it!” Lionpaw mewed. Jaypaw heard claws scrabbling against stone as his brother clambered over the boulder. Shallow water splashed faintly when he jumped down the other side.

“They’re here!” His joyful mew echoed around the tunnel.

More claws scraped against rock as Hollypaw, Heatherpaw, and Breezepaw scrambled over to join him.

“Thank StarClan we found you!” Heatherpaw purred.

Paws splashed and a frightened mew answered her. “We couldn’t climb back over!”

“We thought we were stuck forever!”

“We’ll take you home,” Breezepaw reassured them.

“Go on, Swallowkit,” Heatherpaw urged. Tiny claws scraped stone and a soggy bundle of fur slid clumsily down onto the ground beside Jaypaw.

“Are you okay?” he asked. The rain was pounding harder.

They had to get out quick.

“I’m fine but—”

Breezepaw’s mew interrupted her. “Your turn, Sedgekit.”

Fur brushed rock and another kit thudded lightly on the floor. Jaypaw reached out his nose to the newest arrival. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

Jaypaw swept the two kits together with his tail, pressing against their sodden pelts to warm them.

Breezepaw landed beside him. Jaypaw stiffened. He was holding the third kit in his jaws. She was barely breathing and when Breezepaw laid her on the ground, she didn’t move.

“Thistlekit went to sleep and now she won’t wake up!”

Swallowkit wailed.

Jaypaw pushed the trembling kits against Breezepaw and crouched beside the limp, wet body at his feet. She was cold, shivering with small convulsions. Jaypaw began to massage her body with his paws, trying to rub some warmth into her pelt.

Heatherpaw slithered back over the boulder. “Is she okay?”

“Help Breezepaw warm the other two!” Jaypaw ordered.

“We’re hungry!” Sedgekit’s mew was muffled by Heatherpaw’s fur.