Эрин Хантер - Dark River

Hollypaw shook her head. “I’m not.” Reluctantly she wriggled out from the heather. “Lionpaw!” she called.

Lionpaw and Heatherpaw froze, staring at each other in alarm. The moss ball fell to the ground.

“What are you doing here?” Hollypaw demanded.

Slowly Lionpaw tore his gaze from Heatherpaw’s and turned to face his sister. His eyes sparked with defiance.

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you!”

“ Spying on me!”

Hollypaw flinched. “You shouldn’t be here, playing with her!” She glared at Heatherpaw.

“Why not? She’s just a friend.”

“A friend from another Clan!”

“ You’re friends with Willowpaw!”

“I don’t sneak off every night to see her.”

Lionpaw opened his mouth to object, but no words came out. Hollypaw knew she had won the argument. But her brother’s eyes did not concede anything. They shone with rage. He turned to Heatherpaw. “I’d better go.”

Heatherpaw dipped her head. “I know,” she sighed.

Hollypaw clenched her teeth as Lionpaw brushed muzzles with the WindClan apprentice. Did he really believe it was just friendship that brought him here?

Lionpaw padded up the slope and glared at Cinderpaw.

“Did you have to tell the whole Clan?” he hissed at Hollypaw.

Cinderpaw flicked her tail. “I just came to make sure Hollypaw was safe,” she explained. “No one else knows.”

“And they won’t know,” Hollypaw added, “so long as you stay away from Heatherpaw.”

Lionpaw glared at her. “Is that a threat?”

Hollypaw backed away. She had never seen Lionpaw this angry. Even when they had quarreled as kits, there had always been a lighthearted twinkle in his eyes. But not now. His eyes were cold as stars.

“If you continue meeting Heatherpaw, I will have to tell Brambleclaw,” she insisted, trying not to let her voice tremble.

Lionpaw bristled.

“There’s a good reason why the warrior code forbids mixing with cats from other Clans,” Hollypaw went on. “How can you be loyal to your own Clan when your heart lies in another?”

“Are you accusing me of disloyalty?” Lionpaw flattened his ears.

“I know you’d never be disloyal,” Hollypaw mewed. “But you’re making it difficult for yourself. That’s why you must stop this.” It was hard enough having kin in another Clan without deliberately making friends outside the forest.

Weren’t Lionpaw’s Clanmates enough for him?

A low growl sounded in Lionpaw’s throat. He barged past Hollypaw and padded toward the trees. Hollypaw felt Cinderpaw’s tail run along her flank, smoothing her ruffled fur.

“He’ll get over it,” Cinderpaw promised.

“I hope so,” Hollypaw sighed. She knew she’d done the right thing, but she hadn’t expected Lionpaw to react so angrily, as if he believed that he’d done nothing wrong. Would he ever forgive her?

Jaypaw winced as grit from the trail dug into his pads. At least they did not ache with cold. The stony path to the Moonpool was warming up as newleaf took hold.

Ahead of him, Leafpool chatted with Mothwing. Their mews were only just audible over the rush of water, because the stream that flowed beside their path was swollen by snowmelt from the distant mountains. It carried the scent of frost and rock, and below them, the level of the lake would be rising with the extra water.

Littlecloud and Barkface had taken the lead while Willowpaw trailed behind with Kestrelpaw. Jaypaw slowed occasionally in case the two apprentices wanted to catch up to him, but Willowpaw adjusted her soft step, and Kestrelpaw quickly matched it so that they were always a little behind.

It was a silent challenge but Jaypaw was content to walk alone. At least he could listen to snatches of the medicine cats’ conversation—who had recovered from greencough, who had sprained a paw, which herb best treated the mange that was currently running rife in the ShadowClan apprentice den. As he listened, he let his mind wander, feeling for what emotion lurked behind the words.

“I’ve tried comfrey for the itching,” Littlecloud sighed.

He blames the apprentices for not keeping their pelts clean in the first place.

“We didn’t think Morningflower would recover from greencough, but she has lived to see another newleaf,” Barkface confided.

But your anxiety tells me that you think it will be her last.

“Is Mousefur completely recovered?” Mothwing asked Leafpool.

Jaypaw searched Mothwing’s mind, but only found the blankness that always seemed to shield her emotions. He flicked his attention to Willowpaw. If Hollypaw was right and RiverClan were in trouble, Willowpaw would be the one to betray it. Her mind was usually as open as the moorland.

He concentrated on the RiverClan apprentice, sniffing out her emotions as though they were scent. Sure enough, unease enfolded her. Jaypaw tried to delve farther into her thoughts but it was as though she had wrapped herself in brambles.

Thorny barbs drove him back. Frustrated, he gave up.

I’ll find out more when she dreams .

The path had reached the steep rocks that walled the ridge. Conversation died as the medicine cats climbed, their words turning to breathless gasps as they bounded up rock after rock. Jaypaw scrambled ahead of Leafpool. He felt his mentor’s watchful gaze warm his pelt as he leaped onto a tricky ledge. Thankfully, she said nothing. He had been this way often enough to make it to the ridge without help.

As he hauled himself over the edge he was caught by the fresh scent of the Moonpool. Frost and rock and sky.

“Look how big it is,” Willowpaw breathed as she climbed up beside him.

“Meltwater,” Leafpool meowed.

“It’s wide enough to hold every star in the sky,” Kestrelpaw mewed.

There is room for all tonight, a whispering breeze sang into Jaypaw’s ears. The voices had come to welcome him. He wondered if they welcomed the others, too.

“Did you hear that?” he asked casually.

Leafpool’s gaze scorched his ears. “Hear what?”

“That’d be the wind,” Littlecloud explained.

“It sounds different up here because it’s echoed by the rock,” Barkface added.

Their matter-of-fact tone answered Jaypaw’s question.

These cats heard only the wind. The voices spoke to him alone.

Jaypaw thought again of the prophecy he had heard in Firestar’s dream: There will be three, kin of your kin, who hold the power of the stars in their paws. His pelt prickled with excitement.

This must be part of his power, the ability to hear things no other cat could.

Willowpaw shifted her weight from one paw to another.

“Where shall we lie? The water has covered our usual places.”

Jaypaw heard Mothwing’s tail swish the air. “The rocks are flat over there.”

He followed Leafpool down toward the pool. The breeze stirred his fur, and the voices whispered in his ear again.

Welcome, Jaypaw . The stone beneath his paws was dimpled, worn into a pathway by countless paw steps.

Water suddenly lapped his paws. They were only halfway down the slope! Tingling with surprise, he followed Leafpool around the water’s far-reaching edge and settled on the rock beside her. He heard Leafpool’s breath stir the pool and then deepen as she fell into dream-sleep.

The other cats lay down, their fur brushing the rock, and soon the hollow echoed only with the sound of breath and wind upon water. Willowpaw was the last to settle. Jaypaw waited while she slid into sleep. Focusing on her mind, he leaned forward and touched the Moonpool with his muzzle.