Эрин Хантер - Eclipse

Hollypaw bristled. “I can smell Twolegs.”

Jaypaw wrinkled his nose. The stench was stale and old.

“They’ve not been here in a while,” he mewed.

“Come on,” Lionpaw urged. He began to creep forward, keeping low. “Stay close.”

Jaypaw followed, pressing against Hollypaw, conscious of how much he needed her to guide him along the tangled path. He struggled to build an image in his mind of the forest around him, but he could picture only darkness. The wind hissed through the trees, rattling the branches. Jaypaw pricked his ears, hoping for birdsong. Nothing. They must be asleep. He sniffed. No prey scent at all, not even mouse. Frustrated and confused, he followed Lionpaw, feeling utterly blind.

The ground beneath his paws turned to pebbles and then smooth stone. The breeze stopped ruffling his ear fur.

“Are we inside the Twoleg nest?” he asked Lionpaw. His mew echoed strangely.

“In the entrance,” Lionpaw whispered.

“Can you see anything?” Jaypaw’s whiskers twitched in disgust at the foul-scented air ahead of them.

“It looks empty,” Lionpaw murmured.

Jaypaw’s heart sank. How much farther were they going to have to travel in search of Sol? He jerked in surprise as Hollypaw spun around beside him, pelt bristling.

A deep voice sounded behind them.

“Are you looking for me?”

Hollypaw stared at Sol, suddenly aware of how untidy she and her littermates looked. Their pelts were ruffled, with crumbs of leaf and scraps of moss sticking out, and she and Lionpaw were bloodstained around their claws. Sol gazed at them, his elegant tricolored head tilted, the white patches on his pelt tinged pink by the late-afternoon sun. His eyes shone, amber as sunlit sap.

Would he be angry they’d tracked him down?

He didn’t look angry.

He didn’t even look surprised, just blinked calmly at them and dipped his head in greeting.

“I thought you would come.” His mew was as rich and smooth as high-season honey. He was looking at Jaypaw. “I knew you’d be curious after the great darkness came.”

Jaypaw padded forward. “How did you know it was coming?”

Sol’s whiskers twitched. “Did it frighten you?”

“Of course!”

“Even though I told you it would happen?”

His gaze was unwavering, and so intense that Hollypaw found her sight glazing until the forest blurred around her and all she could see was Sol’s eyes.

She blinked, shivering. She was just tired.

Jaypaw lifted his chin challengingly toward Sol. “Is that why you came to ThunderClan? To warn us?”

The tip of Sol’s tail twitched. “It’s not my business to give warnings.” He padded onto the unkempt grass at the side of the pebbly path, flattening a patch with his paws before sitting down. He swept his thick brown-and-white tail over the grass and rested it in front of him.

“Come.” He tipped his head to one side, indicating that they should sit down too. “If we are going to talk, we may as well be comfortable.”

Jaypaw padded forward, feeling for the grass. Hollypaw followed a little self-consciously. Sol was watching them closely.

The grass was long but soft, and she flattened a spot to sit on, as Sol had done.

Lionpaw hung back in the doorway, his fur bristling.

“Come on,” Hollypaw called, smoothing a space next to her with her tail.

Lionpaw padded forward with his eyes fixed on the stranger and sat down beside her.

“Your brother looks as if he doesn’t trust me,” Sol observed.

“You’re not a Clan cat,” Lionpaw answered.

Sol blinked. “Do you trust every Clan cat?”

“Of course not!” Lionpaw snapped. “But I can make a pretty good guess at what they’re thinking.”

“You came looking for me, don’t forget,” Sol chided. “Is it fair to disturb me, then reproach me because you can’t read my thoughts?”

Lionpaw narrowed his eyes. “I guess not.”

Hollypaw felt Jaypaw fidgeting beside her, running his forepaws over the grass.

Sol must have noticed too. “You have something you want to ask me, yes?” he prompted.

“Do you know about the prophecy?” Jaypaw burst out.

Hollypaw stretched her eyes wide. No cat knew about the prophecy except Firestar—and he didn’t know that they knew.

Beside her, Lionpaw’s ears were twitching. Why was Jaypaw sharing their deepest secret with a complete stranger?

But he had known the sun would vanish.

Sol flicked the tip of his tail. “It concerns all three of you, doesn’t it?”

Jaypaw nodded. “‘There will be three, kin of your kin, who hold the power of the stars in their paws.’”

“And you are the kin,” Sol murmured. He dipped his head with respect.

Jaypaw was trembling like an excited kit. Hollypaw glanced at him in surprise. He really believed that this cat held answers StarClan would not give him. Or could not give him. A shiver rippled down Hollypaw’s spine. Maybe the prophecy did lie beyond anything StarClan could predict.

She felt sick, and pushed away the thought as her heart began to race. There was nothing beyond StarClan! Nothing beyond the warrior code!

Sol interrupted her thoughts. “The prophecy is a grave responsibility for three such young cats to bear.” His amber eyes were round with sympathy.

Jaypaw clawed at the grass. “I can walk in other cats’ dreams, and in their memories.”

But Sol was staring at Lionpaw. “And you? I can see something burns within.”

Lionpaw’s tail quivered.

Sol’s voice softened. “Something that maybe frightens you a little?”

“I can fight in battles without getting hurt,” Lionpaw confessed, sounding very young and small.

Hollypaw stared at her paws. What was her special power?

She knew it was there. She could feel it inside her. But the only thing she felt certain of—so certain it felt like a thorn-sharp stab in her side—was the need to defend the warrior code, the absolute faith that it was vital for the Clans’ existence.

Would Sol understand? He was a loner. How could he appreciate the importance of something that held the four Clans together? She looked up at him, expecting to see his amber gaze on her, but Sol had tipped his head to one side again and closed his eyes.

“Of course, you must nurture these powers.” His mew was light, as though this were a small matter to him. “Listen to your inner voices, to the instinct that in every other cat would merely help them find food or shelter. Who’s to say that in you, these instincts won’t help you achieve more?”

Jaypaw f licked a mosquito from his nose. “Did the vanishing sun have anything to do with us?”

Hollypaw blinked. It hadn’t occurred to her that the prophecy and the sun’s terrifying disappearance might be connected. She leaned forward, paws prickling.

“Maybe it did.” Sol swept his tail over the grass.

Hollypaw felt Lionpaw stiffen beside her. “How?”

“Maybe you are like the shadow covering the sun, and one day you will cover the stars in the sky, so that the cats see you instead of StarClan.”

Hollypaw gasped. “Does that mean we’ll be dead ?”

Sol shook his head. “Of course not,” he meowed. “You’ll just be more powerful than your warrior ancestors. The light will return, just like the sun came back, but it will be your light, and yours to control.”

Our light?

Jaypaw looked like a startled mouse, his tail sticking straight out behind him.

“B-but if we control the light…” Hollypaw searched for the words to describe the fear rising inside her. Nothing made sense right now. It was all upside down. “If we control the light…”