Эрин Хантер - Goosefeather’s Curse

“I’ve only been an apprentice for a moon!” wailed Moonpaw. “That’s not fair!”

“What makes you so special?” growled a voice in Goosepaw’s ear. It was Stormtail.

Goosepaw spun around and glared at the warrior. “You have no idea what I can do!” The image of a badger loomed over him. If all my visions come true, then so will this one! Stormtail is going to try to kill me with a badger! Goosepaw sank his claws into the earth to keep himself steady. “I know what you’re going to do,” he hissed. “And I’ll be ready, just you wait and see!”

Stormtail looked baffled. “You’re weird.”

Cloudberry stepped out of the crowd and dipped her head. “You are very generous, Doestar. I will gladly give Goosepaw his full name at the next half-moon. But I am sure he knows that he still has much to learn, and his training will continue until I am called to StarClan.” She fixed her clear yellow gaze on Goosepaw and he nodded.

Goosepaw ignored the glares of fury coming from Rabbitpaw and Stormtail. They were only jealous. He glimpsed Squirrelwhisker through the crowd, raising her head just enough to nod gratefully to him. Goosepaw felt a stirring of pride in his belly.

No other cat sees as much as I do! I will keep my Clan safe forever!

“Goosepaw, do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from rivalry between Clan and Clan, and to protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?”

Goosepaw bowed his head in the glittering light of the Moonstone and tried to ignore the murmurs that came from the shadows. As always, the little cavern was full of watching eyes, voices whispering to him on the cusp of his hearing, dire threats and prophecies echoing around the stone walls. It seemed as if every cat in StarClan came here to pour their warnings into his ears—warnings that he couldn’t distinguish, that only made his pelt crawl and his tail fluff up with fear.

“I do,” he replied.

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your true name as a medicine cat. Goosepaw, from this moment you will be known as Goosefeather. StarClan honors the power of your sight, and we welcome you as a full medicine cat of ThunderClan.” Cloudberry rested her muzzle briefly on top of his head, then stepped back.

“Goosefeather! Goosefeather! Goosefeather!” whispered the unseen cats.

Goosefeather winced; then Sagepaw cheered, “Goosefeather!” The air in the cave instantly felt warmer. Goosefeather blinked gratefully at the white-furred ShadowClan apprentice.

“Welcome to life as a medicine cat, Goosefeather,” meowed Chiveclaw of WindClan. His apprentice, Hawkheart, who had received his full name at the last half-moon, nodded.

Echosnout sniffed. “I hope he doesn’t get any fancy ideas about knowing as much as the rest of us,” she muttered.

Cloudberry raised her tail. “Goosefeather knows he’ll never stop learning,” she purred.

Goosefeather fought down a flash of anger. I can already do more than any of you! I see all the cats that have gone before us, and things that have not yet happened. You have no idea what powers I have!

The voices grew louder inside his head, as if the unseen cats knew what he was thinking.

“Blood will spill blood!”

“Darkness, air, water, and sky will come together!”

“He is a kittypet!”

“Water will destroy her!”

“Only fire will save the Clan!”

Shut up! Goosefeather screeched silently. It’s too much! I don’t know what you’re talking about!

Sagepaw’s mentor, Redthistle, shook her dark ginger pelt. “Time to go home,” she mewed. “I’m so cold I can’t feel my paws.” She limped out of the cave with Sagepaw beside her.

Cloudberry nodded to Goosefeather, and he fled up the tunnel, pushing past the ShadowClan cats.

The voices faded behind him, and he took deep breaths of the cold night air. He knew his gift was special, and that he had no choice but to serve his Clan as a medicine cat. But here, far underground, in the shimmering light of the moon-bathed crystal, Goosefeather’s gift seemed more than he could possibly bear.

“Great StarClan! Are we out of borage already?” Cloudberry stuck her head farther into the cleft in the rock, then withdrew it, sneezing. “Nothing but dust back there. You’ll need to gather borage as well, Goosefeather.”

He rolled his eyes. “At this rate I’ll be bringing back half the forest,” he meowed. “Can’t I take one of the apprentices with me?”

Cloudberry shook a scrap of leaf off her ear and fixed him with her gaze. “As far as I’m concerned, you are an apprentice. It was Doestar’s idea to give you your full name, not mine.”

Goosefeather bristled. “I earned it! I saw the kittypets attacking our patrol!”

The old white cat turned back to her piles of leaves. “Your visions are a gift from StarClan.

Everything else will have to be learned. Now go fetch those herbs while they’re still green.”

Goosefeather ducked through the ferns, which were turning brown at the tips as the weather cooled and the days grew shorter. In the clearing, the apprentices had just returned from a border patrol with their mentors. Goosefeather nodded to them, but they just stared at him. Goosefeather felt a flash of annoyance. Why did they treat him like an outcast? Didn’t they understand how important his powers were? Even Moonpaw looked down at the ground as he walked past.

“Don’t start thinking you’re better than us just because you got your name!” hissed Rabbitpaw.

“I heard that,” growled his mentor, Mumblefoot. But he didn’t make Rabbitpaw apologize; on the contrary, Mumblefoot shook his head as Goosefeather padded by. Do all my Clanmates resent my new name? Goosefeather wondered.

Larksong, her belly swollen with kits, blinked sympathetically at him. “Don’t let them bother you,” she whispered. “It’s just taking everyone a while to get used to the idea of such a young medicine cat.”

Goosefeather shrugged. “Not my problem,” he mewed.

He pushed into the gorse tunnel, wincing as a tuft of his gray fur got caught on a spike. He climbed out of the ravine and headed straight into the forest. There was a patch of comfrey halfway to Fourtrees that had still had several green plants last time he visited. The trees were silent, and the air was still except for occasional crisp brown leaves drifting down. One brushed against

Goosefeather’s nose, and he purred in amusement. At first it had been alarming to watch the forest fade and turn brittle, but Cloudberry had reassured him that it would come back to life in newleaf, after the long, cold moons of leaf-bare.

He reached the comfrey and started to pick the biggest leaves, nipping them low down on the stalk to make them easier to carry. He was just stacking them in a pile when he heard a crashing sound beside him. Goosefeather spun around just as a clump of bracken split apart and Stormtail burst through.

The blue-gray warrior paused when he saw Goosefeather, and bared his teeth. “Watch out!” he snarled. He sprang past Goosefeather and vanished into the brambles.

There was a single moment of stillness, and suddenly Goosefeather knew exactly what was about to happen. He had known about this since he was the tiniest kit, and in a way he had been waiting for it all his life. This had been his very first vision, and like all the rest, it was doomed to come true.

The forest drew breath around him, and a huge black-and-white shape loomed through the bracken, bellowing in rage. Goosefeather braced himself. The badger had found him.