Эрин Хантер - Hawkwing’s Journey

But all Hawkpaw could tell from gazing at Echosong was that she seemed gravely serious, intent on her task. Duskpaw still wasn’t moving.

“What’s happening?” Hawkpaw asked at last, unable to stifle the agonized question.

Ebonyclaw touched his shoulder with her tail-tip. “Echosong is trying to restart Duskpaw’s breathing and his heart,” she explained.

Which means his breathing and his heart have stopped, Hawkpaw realized. He felt again as though a tough piece of crow-food was lodged in his belly, and he was about to vomit it up.

Echosong went on pushing at Duskpaw’s chest, while

Hawkpaw watched, barely daring to breathe. Finally, after what seemed like moons, the medicine cat stopped and stepped back, shaking her head. Duskpaw still lay motionless.

“You can’t give up!” Hawkpaw cried. “What are you doing?

You have to save him!”

He was aware of all the other cats who were gathered around, staring at him, but no cat spoke. Hawkpaw felt his heart tearing apart as if a badger were ripping it with powerful claws.

He let out a mournful wail, and behind him another cat joined in. Turning, Hawkpaw saw his mother, Cherrytail, along with his father, Sharpclaw, pressing forward into the circle of cats who surrounded him.

Cherrytail rushed forward and flung herself to the ground beside Duskpaw, burying her nose in his fur. A couple of tail-lengths away, Pebblepaw and Cloudpaw were lying on the grass, moaning miserably. Hawkpaw guessed they were beginning to feel the effects of their burns, but they could barely open their eyes.

Clearly they weren’t aware of what was going on around them.

They don’t know yet that Duskpaw is dead!

Sharpclaw stood over his son’s body, stony and silent. Then briefly Hawkpaw felt his father’s gaze rest on him. But before either cat could speak, Billystorm reappeared with the Clan leader, Leafstar. They joined Sharpclaw and Ebonyclaw, and all four cats conferred quietly together.

Hawkpaw crept up to his mother and pressed himself closely against her side. He couldn’t find any words to comfort her, but he wrapped his tail around her shoulders.

Cherrytail didn’t respond, her muzzle still buried in her dead son’s fur. Hawkpaw didn’t blame her for not letting him console her. He couldn’t console himself. I can’t tell her it’ll be okay.

Nothing will ever be okay again.

By now, Frecklewish had returned with wet moss and the healing honey and comfrey. Echosong joined her, and the two medicine cats began to dress Cloudpaw’s and Pebblepaw’s injuries.

After a few moments, Frecklewish padded over to Hawkpaw with a bundle of dripping moss in her jaws.

“You have a bad burn on your back,” she mewed, setting down the moss. “Keep still and I’ll dress it.”

Hawkpaw turned to her with the beginnings of a snarl. He hadn’t realized that he had been hurt; he still couldn’t feel it. All the pain he felt was in his heart.

“I’m okay,” he meowed to Frecklewish. “Leave me alone.”

“No, you’re not okay,” Frecklewish persisted. “You need to let me—”

Hawkpaw sprang to his paws. “I said, leave me alone!” he growled with a lash of his tail.

At that, Frecklewish backed off, turning to see to Ebonyclaw’s wounds instead. Echosong was still tending to Cloudpaw and Pebblepaw. Pebblepaw’s parents, Sparrowpelt and Tinycloud, along with her littermate Parsleypaw, had settled down beside her, and were trying to comfort her.

Hawkpaw turned back to his mother to see that Sharpclaw had joined her, and was gently licking her ears. His green eyes were full of sorrow as he pressed himself against his mate’s side.

Hawkpaw stood alone, staring at his brother’s lifeless body.

At last Cherrytail rose to her paws and padded over to Hawkpaw, leaning against him. “Ebonyclaw told us what happened,” she murmured. “I’m glad that you’re okay. I know you did everything you could to save Duskpaw. It’s not your fault that he’s dead.”

“But I—” Hawkpaw tried to interrupt, knowing very well that it was his fault.

“You’re a hero for saving Pebblepaw,” his mother assured him.

“It was very brave of you to rush into that fire.”

Hawkpaw couldn’t feel any sense of pride at his mother’s words. And when he looked up at his father and saw Sharpclaw’s face so full of grief, guilt rushed over him again so strongly that he could hardly stay on his paws.

Pain had begun to stab into Hawkpaw from the wound on his back, and he wished that he hadn’t told Frecklewish to go away.

But then, maybe I deserve this pain.

“Hawkpaw!” The voice was Echosong’s as she padded toward him. “Come back with me to the medicine cat den. You need to rest, and to let me see to that wound on your back.”

Hawkpaw opened his jaws, but Echosong gave him no chance to protest. Though she was usually very calm, he knew that she put up with no nonsense from any cat. “You’ll do as you’re told,” she meowed. “You’re just an apprentice, and I’m your medicine cat. When I tell you to come with me, you come.”

Too exhausted and heartsick to argue, Hawkpaw bowed his head and followed her.

Inside the medicine cat den, Pebblepaw and Cloudpaw were already stretched out asleep in nests of thick moss. Their chests rose and fell rhythmically as they breathed.

“How are they?” Hawkpaw asked, angling his ears toward the two she-cats.

“They’re comfortable,” Echosong replied. “They’ll be okay—their burns aren’t as bad as I thought at first. In a few days they’ll be up and about again.”

Hawkpaw’s relief at hearing Echosong’s reassurance was mingled with even more guilt. Knowing that Pebblepaw wasn’t badly hurt reminded him of what he couldn’t stop thinking. What if I had gone to save Duskpaw first? Maybe Pebblepaw’s injuries would have been a bit worse, but Duskpaw would still be alive!

After a moment, Hawkpaw became aware that Echosong was watching him, her green eyes full of understanding, as if she could read his mind. Then she turned and took a poppy seed from the rock shelf where she stored her herbs.

“Eat this,” she mewed, setting it in front of Hawkpaw. “It will calm you down. And you have to let me dress the burn on your back.”

Hawkpaw wanted to give in. The wound felt small, but it hurt worse than anything he had felt in his life, a clawing pain that made him feel sick.

No! he decided. I don’t deserve to feel better!

He began to back away from Echosong, but his body was giving way at last from his injuries and the smoke he had breathed in. He felt his legs buckle and a cloud seemed to swirl around him, blacker than the smoke. As he began to slide into unconsciousness he felt Echosong’s gentle paws spread something soothing on his back.

The medicine cat’s voice pulsed in his ears, saying something about a prophecy. But Hawkpaw couldn’t make out the words, and in a moment the sound was swamped in his own desperate cry.

“I should have saved him first!”

His voice echoed in his own ears as he finally drifted into a painful, fitful sleep.

Hawkpaw scrambled to the top of the gorge and slipped into the long grass. The sun had cleared the tops of the trees, but shadows still lay among the rocks and in the undergrowth, and no cat had noticed him leaving the camp.

Several days had passed since the fire. The scent of smoke had faded from Hawkpaw’s fur, and he could hardly feel the pain of his burn anymore. The vigil for Duskpaw was over.