Эрин Хантер - Eclipse

“She’s smart enough to be careful,” Jaypaw pointed out.

“She’s worked hard to recover, and she knows better than both of us what she can and can’t manage.” He pressed on. “Don’t forget that she wants to become a warrior. She’s not going to do anything that will threaten that.”

Leafpool didn’t reply.

“Just trust her,” Jaypaw urged. And trust me!

Leafpool sighed. “Can you tell what’s going on in the forest?”

Relieved to change the subject, Jaypaw cast his hearing beyond the confines of the hollow, concentrating on the faraway shrieking, and gradually began to recognize yowls and screeches.

“Dustpelt’s patrol is fighting by the lakeside,” he told her.

“Firestar’s patrol has been ambushed near the WindClan border. Brambleclaw’s patrol is under attack near the Twoleg nest.”

He wished she hadn’t asked him. Now his mind swirled with images of cat fighting cat, of blood-soaked pelts, of flesh ripping between teeth. He shivered. “Let me go out there,” he begged.

Leafpool stiffened. “No way!”

“Our Clanmates are getting injured,” he protested. “I could bring them back to the hollow.” He had to do something to help his Clan. He was no use here, even if WindClan attacked.

“But it’s dark,” Leafpool argued.

“Do you think that makes a difference to me?” Jaypaw let his wide, blank gaze rest on her. “In fact, it’ll help. I’ll be able to hear cats when they can’t see me.”

He sensed Leafpool soften. “You will be careful, though?”

“I’m not going to get myself hurt.” I’m too important to let that happen.

“It would be good to start treating the wounded as soon as we can.”

Jaypaw sensed a tremor beneath her mew. There had never been a battle like this before, fought in so many places within a single territory. He reached into her mind and found her thoughts swathed not in fog, but in darkness.

They were all flailing around in the unknown.

Jaypaw stood up. “The sooner I get going, the better.”

Leafpool leaned forward and pressed her muzzle to his cheek. “Be careful,” she whispered.

Outside the thorn tunnel, Jaypaw sensed Graystripe tense with surprise.

“Where are you going?” the gray warrior demanded.

“Leafpool says I can go look for wounded cats.”

Graystripe hesitated.

“Do you want an escort?” Whitewing offered.

“It’ll be easier to stay hidden if I’m on my own,” Jaypaw reasoned.

“Keep low,” Graystripe advised. “If you hear trouble, head away from it.”

“I will,” Jaypaw promised. He padded away from the hollow.

“StarClan be with you!” Whitewing called.

As he weaved through the trees, picking his way over roots and around trailing bushes, Jaypaw wondered if any cats were with him. What about Fallen Leaves’ ancestors? Or the Tribe’s?

He paused. Which battle was closest? Pricking his ears, he heard a wail from the shore. The lake. He’d check there first.

With all that screeching, there were bound to be injuries.

He headed toward the scent of water, his paws slipping on the slope as it steepened toward the top of a low ridge. As he neared the crest he heard a grunt on the other side. A body smacked onto the ground. Jaypaw tasted the air, recognizing the scents of Sorreltail and Honeyfern. Honeyfern hissed, and claws scraped fur. A yowl split the air, and paws scrabbled against the leafy forest floor. Who were they fighting?

He tasted the air again, expecting to smell WindClan. But this scent was different. Watery, with a hint of fish.

RiverClan!

Two of them, by the smell of it.

What in StarClan’s name are they doing here?

Ducking low, he crept forward, nosing his way under a red currant bush. Its soft leaves stroked his pelt. It should give him good cover. He pulled himself forward, careful not to make the bush rustle.

One of the RiverClan cats was taunting Honeyfern. “Call yourself a warrior?”

“Call yourself a cat?” Honeyfern retorted. Pelt brushed pelt, and the two cats rolled, tussling on the ground.

“This is too easy,” the other RiverClan cat hissed.

Sorreltail yelped in pain.

Fresh air bathed Jaypaw’s muzzle. Then a strong smell of fish as a RiverClan pelt brushed his nose. Screeching a battle cry, he shot forward with his claws unsheathed and sank them into the glossy pelt in front of him.

The RiverClan tom screeched in surprise.

“Thanks, Jaypaw!” Sorreltail called.

Jaypaw ducked back as his Clanmates fell upon their attackers. Paws scrabbled in sudden desperation. The RiverClan cats were on the defensive now.

“Thought we were easy prey, didn’t you?” Honeyfern’s growl was followed by a yowl of pain from one of the RiverClan warriors.

“They’re running away!” Sorreltail cheered.

“Let’s chase them home!” Honeyfern yowled. Her paws thrummed the earth as she hared in pursuit of the fleeing warriors.

“Argh!” Sorreltail squealed as she tried to give chase and stumbled to a clumsy halt.

Jaypaw darted out from the bush. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve twisted my paw!”

He sniffed at the forepaw she held gingerly out. It was hot but not swollen. Gently he grasped it between his jaws and lifted it. Then he gave it a soft shake.

Sorreltail gasped but didn’t screech.

Placing it carefully down, Jaypaw told her, “It’s sprained, not broken. But I need to get you back to camp.”

“I can’t go now!” Sorreltail gasped. “RiverClan have joined the attack! There are more of them down on the shore. They attacked us from behind while we were fighting WindClan.”

Her mew was filled with outrage. “What did we ever do but help them? Why are they trying to drive us out of our home?”

Jaypaw couldn’t answer. He didn’t know why any of this was happening, and StarClan wasn’t giving any answers.

“Is Honeyfern all right?” he asked.

“Just a few scratches,” Sorreltail replied. “Once she’s seen those two off, she’ll rejoin the patrol.” She turned to go. “I should get back to them too.”

Jaypaw darted in front of her, ready to block her path, but it wasn’t necessary. She gasped in pain when she tried to put weight on her sprained paw.

“Let’s get that seen to,” he mewed. He pressed against her shoulder and began to guide her up the slope back toward camp. With a pang, he remembered helping Cinderpaw this way after her accident in her warrior assessment. That seemed moons ago now.

Panting, they neared camp, Jaypaw stumbling under her weight. He was relieved when he heard Graystripe pounding toward him.

“Here, let me take over.” The gray warrior nosed him out of the way and supported Sorreltail for the last few paw steps into camp.

Leafpool hurried across the clearing to meet them, comfrey leaves bundled between her jaws. “Lay her here,” she ordered, dropping the comfrey.

She’s in safe paws now. Jaypaw turned, preparing to go out again.

“Wait!” Graystripe blocked his path. “What’s it like out there?”

“RiverClan are fighting with WindClan,” Jaypaw told him.

“I’ll try to find out how far they’ve gotten into our territory.”

He padded past Graystripe, feeling the warrior’s tail touch his back.

“Try to reach Firestar,” Graystripe meowed. “Warn him about RiverClan, but don’t take any risks.”

Jaypaw pushed his way out through the thorn barrier once more and headed inland, toward the border, where he could hear Firestar’s patrol battling the WindClan ambush. Ashfur’s yowl rang through the trees, desperate but determined.

They hadn’t been beaten yet.