Эрин Хантер - Eclipse

Where is it? Had the lake taken it back? He might never see it again!

Something hard bumped his muzzle. Something floating on the waves. He sniffed, coughing as water shot up his nose.

But he recognized his stick at once. Flailing with his paw, he tried to drag the stick closer, but it bobbed out of reach each time he tried to hook it with a claw. Why was it so smooth?

Why couldn’t it have bark for him to grip? Fear and frustration stormed in his chest.

“What in the name of StarClan are you doing?” Teeth grasped his tail, and Jaypaw was jerked backward onto the top of the bank.

It was Firestar.

“I was just…” Jaypaw searched for the right words.

How could he explain his need for the stick? But it might be floating out of reach while he stood here trying to tell Firestar. “I have to have that stick!” He prayed that the desperation in his mew would be enough. Hope f lashed in his heart as Firestar brushed past him to peer over the edge of the bank.

“What? That smooth stick floating near the bank?”

“Yes!” Jaypaw almost wailed.

“It won’t sink, you know,” Firestar informed him. “Wood doesn’t. Will it matter if it does?”

Jaypaw took a deep breath. “Yes,” he mewed. “It matters very much… to me.” He fought to keep calm as Firestar’s curious gaze warmed his pelt.

“Okay,” Firestar meowed, after what seemed like moons.

“I’ll get it.”

The ThunderClan leader’s claws scratched the tree roots as he leaned out and fished in the water. Jaypaw could hear splashing and Firestar’s grunt as he grasped something in his jaws.

He’s got it!

The stick scraped against the muddy bank as Firestar heaved it out and dropped it onto dry land.

“Thank you!” Jaypaw sighed, pressing his paw to the wet wood.

“Do you want me to carry it back to camp for you?” Firestar puffed.

“No!” The word blurted out before Jaypaw could think.

This was his secret. The fur along his spine rippled at the thought of Leafpool asking questions, of his Clanmates staring at his stick, seeing what he could not see, touching what was his.

“Well, it’s safe now,” Firestar meowed. He leaned closer to the stick. “It’s got some unusual scratches on it. Did you put them there?”

“No,” Jaypaw answered honestly, his pelt burning. He curled his claws, hoping Firestar wouldn’t ask any more questions.

“Come on,” Firestar meowed. “Let’s head back.”

Thank you, StarClan! Jaypaw rolled the stick to the nearest stubby bush and pushed it close to the trunk, wedging one end under a gnarled root. He didn’t think the water would ever rise this high, but even if it did, the stick shouldn’t float away again. Good-bye , he whispered before turning and following his Clan leader up the grassy slope that led to the forest.

As they entered the trees, Jaypaw tried to pick up Firestar’s thoughts. He wanted to know what the ThunderClan leader truly felt about him, knowing the prophecy. But, like Leafpool’s mind when she was on her guard, Firestar’s thoughts were clouded and impossible to read.

“How’s Cinderpaw?” Firestar asked. There was worry in his voice. Jaypaw remembered his vision: Firestar had been the one to tell Cinderpelt she’d never be a warrior. He felt a rush of pity for his leader. Cinderpaw’s latest injury must have scratched old wounds.

“She’ll be okay, won’t she?” Firestar pressed.

Jaypaw answered cautiously. “She’s in a lot of pain. It’s hard to tell how bad the injury is.” He didn’t want to contradict anything Leafpool might have said to Firestar.

“That name must bring bad luck,” Firestar murmured, half to himself. Jaypaw had to fight the urge to tell him that Cinderpaw didn’t just share Cinderpelt’s name, but her spirit.

They walked in silence to the hollow, and, as they entered the camp, Leafpool trotted up, breathless. “Are you okay?” she asked Jaypaw.

“He’s fine,” Firestar told her. “I met him in the woods and we walked back together.”

Jaypaw was grateful that Firestar hadn’t mentioned the stick.

“Come fetch some mouse bile with me,” Leafpool ordered Jaypaw. “Daisy has a tick.”

As Jaypaw headed for the medicine cat den, Leafpool padded beside him, not speaking. Was she still angry after their quarrel? He tried to read her thoughts, but his own kept interfering. He pictured the stick floating in the water. It hadn’t sunk. According to Firestar, it couldn’t sink. Jaypaw had always thought of water as a treacherous creature, sucking whatever it touched to its freezing depths. It had tried to swallow him when he was a kit. But it hadn’t sucked the stick down. It had held it. Kept it on the surface, next to the air.

RiverClan cats could swim. Jaypaw had even heard stories of Firestar and Graystripe swimming through a flood to rescue a nest of kits. And after the tunnels had flooded, they’d all managed to get to land, hadn’t they?

He remembered that night, flailing in the water with nothing to cling to. The water had dragged at his pelt until he had stopped fighting it. Then he had floated, like his stick. He remembered the sensation of his paws churning, the water pushing and pulling at him like wind. He had felt as light as thistledown.

He halted.

“What’s the matter?” Leafpool stopped beside him.

“Nothing,” Jaypaw answered. But an idea was forming in his mind.

A screech made him jump. Poppyfrost was yelping in pain beside the nursery.

“A thorn’s poked her eye!” Honeyfern yowled. “A branch was sticking out of the nursery wall!”

“I thought I’d weaved them all back in!” Graystripe came pounding across the clearing.

“Don’t panic!” Leafpool darted from Jaypaw’s side. “The thorns aren’t big. At worst it’ll be a scratch.”

Jaypaw raced to the medicine cat’s den. Poppyfrost would be fine. He had something more important to do.

He burst through the brambles and heard moss crackle as Cinderpaw stirred in her nest.

“What is it?” she called in alarm.

“You have to swim!” Jaypaw mewed excitedly.

“Swim?” Cinderpaw gasped. “But I can’t swim!”

“You could if you tried.” Jaypaw hurried to her nest. “RiverClan cats do it all the time.”

“But they’re RiverClan.”

“Don’t you see?” Jaypaw paced beside her, unable to keep still. “You can practice using your leg in water. That way you won’t have to put any weight on it, but it’ll get stronger.”

“Stronger?” Cinderpaw echoed, sounding dazed.

“It’ll be like walking on it, but easier,” Jaypaw pressed.

“Where will I swim?”

“In the lake, of course!”

“How will I get there?”

“You managed to walk back to camp, didn’t you?” Jaypaw reasoned. “And you’ve rested since then.”

“How will I know what to do?”

“I’ll teach you.” Jaypaw ignored the fear pricking in his pelt at the thought of getting his paws wet.

“You?” A purr of amusement rumbled in Cinderpaw’s throat. It was the first time she’d purred since her accident.

Jaypaw knew he could convince her now. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.

“Leafpool will think we’re crazier than hares.”

“Let’s not tell her, then. It can be our secret. Think how surprised she’ll be when she sees you walking on four paws again.”

Cinderpaw didn’t speak, but Jaypaw could detect a small flower of hope budding in her mind.

“Okay,” she agreed at last.

“We’ll start tomorrow.” Jaypaw felt jubilant. “You’ll be better in no time.”

Cinderpaw flicked his ear with her tail. “If I don’t drown first.”