Эрин Хантер - Goosefeather’s Curse

Windflight touched her rump with the tip of his tail. “She’ll be fine. She’s almost a warrior now, and she’s smart enough to take care of herself. Just like her mother,” he added.

But the ginger she-cat refused to be comforted. “We must find her! What if she came across a fox?” She looked at the den below Highrock. “Is Doestar back yet?”

Cloudberry shook her head. “You’re the first patrol to return. No one here but the kits and elders.”

Another patrol returned, this time carrying the rewards of good hunting. As they started to drop their catch on the fresh-kill pile, Flashnose called to them, “Did any of you see Swiftpaw in the forest?”

Daisytoe tucked the tail of her fat gray squirrel onto the pile. “Not a whisker,” she meowed. “I thought she went to fetch herbs.”

“She did, but she’s not back yet,” Windflight explained. “I’m sure she’s fine—”

“You can’t be sure!” Flashnose hissed. “Swiftpaw is too young to be out on her own.”

“We’ll go back out to look for her,” Rooktail meowed, coming to stand beside Flashnose. The other warriors in his patrol nodded.

Daisytoe trotted over to the kits, who were watching, huge-eyed. “Come on, into the nursery,” she prompted. “I want you to stay there until I come back.” As she ushered them past Goosekit, she included him with a sweep of her tail. “You too, little one.”

“But we could help look for Swiftpaw!” Moonkit protested as Daisytoe pushed them into the den.

“Definitely not!” Daisytoe mewed. “It’s bad enough that an apprentice has gone missing. We’ll be back soon.” She whisked around and Goosekit listened to the warriors thundering through the gorse.

Their paw steps faded as they climbed the ravine and disappeared into the trees.

Rabbitkit scrabbled crossly at the dried moss. “We totally could have helped!” he grumbled. “I’m nearly as big as the apprentices!”

Heronkit nodded. “It would be just like playing hide-and-seek!”

“Except we wouldn’t cheat,” mewed Rabbitkit, glaring at Goosekit.

Goosekit wasn’t in the mood for defending himself again. When the others started to play a game of spot the ant at the far end of the den, he slipped through the brambles. The clearing was deserted except for Cloudberry dozing near the entrance and, tucked below Highrock, the black-and-white tom who had helped Goosekit find his denmates.

Goosekit trotted over to him. “You’re an apprentice, aren’t you?” he asked.

The tom stopped licking his chest fur and looked up. “That’s right.”

“Why aren’t you looking for Swiftpaw? Can you go find her, please?”

The black-and-white cat looked unsure. “I don’t think I can go by myself,” he mewed.

A long-tailed warrior with brown striped fur padded past. “Hey!” the black-and-white cat called.

“An apprentice has gone missing!”

The warrior stopped and fixed clear amber eyes on Goosekit. “Which one?”

“Swiftpaw,” Goosekit replied. “She’s got tabby-and-white fur and yellow eyes. Have you seen her?”

“Quite small, carrying herbs?” meowed the brown tom.

Goosekit nodded. “That’s her!”

The warrior turned to walk away. “Oh yes, I saw her,” he purred. “She was just below

Sunningrocks, in the reeds.”

Goosekit started to call after him, but the sun was in his eyes and he couldn’t see where the warrior had gone. The clearing was starting to fill up with another returning patrol, and the ravine echoed with cries of alarm as Cloudberry woke from her snooze and told them what had happened.

Goosekit ran over to the warriors. Taking a deep breath, he stopped and stretched himself as tall as he could. “I know where Swiftpaw is!” he blurted out.

Several heads turned toward him.

“She’s in the reeds by Sunningrocks,” Goosekit went on.

Larksong pricked her ears. Beside her, Hollypelt looked skeptical. “You’ve never even left the camp,” she meowed. “How do you know about the reeds beside Sunningrocks?”

Goosekit pressed his paws into the solid earth. “A warrior told me he saw Swiftpaw there.”

“Which warrior?” asked Larksong, looking around.

“I… I don’t know,” Goosekit admitted. “He’s not here now.”

Harepounce rolled her eyes. “Fancy that.”

“I’m not lying!” Goosekit insisted, digging his claws into the earth in frustration.

Larksong looked closely at him. Then she lifted her head. “We’ll need to check the whole territory,” she pointed out. “So we may as well start with Sunningrocks. Mumblefoot, Hollypelt, will you come with me?”

“Because a kit said so?” Hollypelt mewed. “I don’t think so. Doestar and Pineheart will be back soon. I’ll wait for them to organize search patrols.”

“I’ll come with you,” Mumblefoot meowed, padding over to Larksong. He glanced at Goosekit.

“It would be a funny thing for a kit to make up, don’t you think?”

Larksong nodded. She whisked around and plunged back into the gorse with the sturdy brown tom at her heels. More cats emerged into the clearing before the thorns stopped quivering. This patrol was led by Doestar and Pineheart. The ThunderClan leader’s face darkened as she heard about Swiftpaw.

Hollypelt told her about the cats who had already gone out to search.

Doestar turned to her deputy. “It sounds as if Snakerocks and the Thunderpath boundary have been covered. I want you to take a patrol to the treecutplace and along the border with Twolegplace.”

Pineheart dipped his head. “We’ll go at once.” He summoned the three warriors standing closest to him with a flick of his tail, then led them into the tunnel at a run.

Almost at once, Flashnose, Rooktail, and their patrol returned to the clearing. Their tails drooped, and Flashnose’s eyes were brimming. “We searched all the way to Snakerocks and back,” she murmured. “But there was no sign of her.”

Doestar rested her cream-colored tail on Flashnose’s shoulder. “There are warriors spread through the whole forest,” she meowed. “We’ll find Swiftpaw, I promise.”

Suddenly there was a crackle of branches, and a small, sodden figure draped in green slime stumbled out of the gorse.

“Swiftpaw!” Flashnose screeched, flinging herself on her daughter.

Larksong appeared behind Swiftpaw, her tortoiseshell coat dripping with bright green riverweed.

“She was well and truly stuck!” the warrior reported. “Mumblefoot and I thought we’d never get her out of the reeds!”

Mumblefoot joined them. His brown fur stood on end, and there was a piece of reed stuck behind one ear.

“I hurt my leg,” Swiftpaw whimpered. “I was following a frog and I got all tangled up. I thought the river was going to swallow me!”

“You’re safe now, my precious,” Flashnose purred. She lifted her head and gazed at Larksong and Mumblefoot. “Thank you for finding her! You saved her life!”

Larksong curled her tail over her back. “It’s Goosekit you should thank. He told us where Swiftpaw had gone.”

Flashnose tipped her head on one side. “How did you know? And why didn’t you tell us at once?”

“A warrior told me,” Goosekit mewed. “A dark brown tom.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t Squirrelwhisker?” mewed Rooktail.

Goosekit shook his head. “No! I know the difference between a tom and a she-cat!”

Pineheart stood over him, looking stern. “There are no other dark brown warriors in ThunderClan, Goosekit. Who told you where Swiftpaw was?”