Эрин Хантер - Hawkwing’s Journey

Firefern returned clutching some stems of borage in her jaws and started chewing them to a pulp. “If only we knew what this illness is,” she mumbled around a mouthful.

“Well, M acgyver admitted he was so hungry he ate some crow-food,” Hawkwing mused. “That might have caused it. And the others caught whatever it is from him, I guess. But that doesn’t help.”

“No,” Firefern agreed. “The only thing that will help is to find Echosong.”

She prodded M acgyver to rouse him and began pushing some of the pulped borage into his mouth. M acgyver lapped at it, muttered something inaudible, and lapsed back into unconsciousness.

“Hawkwing!” A cry sounded from across the camp.

Hawkwing whipped around to see Plumwillow heading toward him, supporting Finkit, who tottered along beside her on uncertain paws. Sagenose was helping to steady him on the other side; Dewkit and Reedkit followed, their eyes wide and scared.

“Finkit has the sickness!” Plumwillow wailed.

Hawkwing felt as if a dark fog had descended on him, blotting out the last traces of light and hope. The fear and tension that he felt were like claws in his belly, tearing him apart. Not Finkit!

“He was so good yesterday, soaking moss and fetching it so the sick cats could drink,” Plumwillow went on as she and Finkit reached Hawkwing’s side. “But I should have kept him away from them!”

“Every cat needs to keep away from them.” Firefern looked up from treating the other patients. “Except for you and me, Hawkwing. We’d better make that a rule. Come on, Finkit,” she added, “eat some of this nice borage.”

“M y belly aches,” Finkit whimpered, but he bent his head and ate the borage without protesting.

Firefern nudged him into the nest with the others, and Blossomheart stirred slightly, wrapped her tail around him, and drew him closer.

“I’ll stay and look after him,” Plumwillow mewed.

Hawkwing stepped forward to block her with his tail. “No,” he told her forcefully. “You have to take care of your other kits.”

Plumwillow stared down at Finkit, then glanced over her shoulder at Reedkit and Dewkit. The anguish in her eyes told

Hawkwing how she was torn between them.

“Reedkit and Dewkit need you,” he meowed gently. “I’ll do the best I can for Finkit. You do trust me, don’t you, Plumwillow?”

Plumwillow locked her gaze with his for a heartbeat, then dipped her head. “Yes, I do,” she whispered. “But, oh, Hawkwing, you have to save him!”

Hawkwing wished he could promise her that Finkit would live, but he couldn’t lie to her. They didn’t know what the sickness was, and that made it nearly impossible to cure. He could see gratitude and grief in Plumwillow’s eyes as she turned away, gathered her other kits closer with a sweep of her tail, and headed back to the crevice in the rocks where she had set up her nursery.

I can’t promise anything. But I’ll do everything I possibly can to save Finkit!

Hawkwing watched Plumwillow go, then spotted movement downstream: Leafstar was returning at the head of the hunting patrol that had gone out earlier. Their paw steps listless, their tails drooping with discouragement, the cats carried their prey over to the fresh-kill pile.

Such meager pickings! Hawkwing thought. That’ll never keep the Clan alive.

Leafstar paused for a moment, gazing down regretfully at the scanty pile, then seemed to gather herself and padded over to the nest where the sick cats lay.

“How are they—” she began, then broke off as she saw that Finkit had joined them. “Oh, no. Where is it all going to end?”

“We’re doing the best we can,” Firefern mewed.

Sagenose, who had stood by in silence all this time, turned to gaze at the ginger she-cat; Hawkwing thought his eyes looked blank and dead. “You know you’re likely to catch it, right?”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Firefern snapped.

“Every cat knows it,” Sagenose meowed. “The more you treat the sick cats and get close to them, the more likely you are to get sick too.”

“That may be true,” Hawkwing responded, remembering what had happened to Finkit. He was nettled by his Clanmate’s defeatist tone, though he reminded himself that Sagenose had lost his mate and his remaining kits by the lake. I know how terrible that must have been. “But medicine cats always treat the sick, no matter what they’re risking,” he finished.

Sagenose turned that blank, stone-cold stare on Hawkwing.

“Right. But you and Firefern aren’t medicine cats. None of us are.

If we were, we might have some chance of curing the sick cats.

Instead, we’ll probably all get it, eventually.”

Leafstar’s shoulder fur had begun to bristle as Sagenose spoke.

“What are you saying?” she demanded with a lash of her tail.

“I’m just pointing out that we have a choice here,” Sagenose retorted.

“And what is that choice?” Leafstar hissed.

“We could split up,” Sagenose replied. “Or send a group of cats to find Echosong.”

Leafstar’s lips drew back in the beginning of a snarl. “And just where do you suggest we do that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Sagenose admitted. “But a group of healthy cats moving around would have a better chance than we will if we just sit here waiting to die.”

Leafstar’s anger faded and her eyes were full of pain as she gazed at Hawkwing. “No,” she meowed. “We will stay together.

There are so few of us now. And isn’t this what defines a Clan: that they stay together, even when things are hard? We have to believe that things will get better. We have to believe we will survive this. We have no choice, Sagenose!”

With that, she turned and stalked away. His gaze following her, Hawkwing tried not to let his misgivings show, for the sake of his Clan. But he couldn’t be sure that they would survive this new challenge.

Two sunrises later, gazing down at the nest where the sick cats lay, Hawkwing was even less certain. True to Sagenose’s prediction, Firefern too had fallen ill, the disease attacking her so fiercely that her paw steps were already leading her toward StarClan.

She exhausted herself helping the others, Hawkwing thought, and now she hasn’t the strength to fight the sickness.

The other sick cats were no better. Rileypool seemed barely alive; Hawkwing had to watch carefully to see the faint rising and falling of his chest. He couldn’t eat anymore, or even lap at soaked moss for a drink.

“Come on, Finkit,” Hawkwing murmured encouragingly.

“Look, I’ve some lovely mouse for you.”

To his relief, the kit began licking at the mouse. Still keeping an eye on him, Hawkwing began to treat the others with borage, chewing up the leaves into a pulp and crouching beside each of his sick Clanmates until they licked it up. As he finished, he realized that Leafstar was standing beside him, looking down at the nest despairingly. She bent her head and touched her nose to Firefern’s shoulder. “Oh, my daughter… ,” she whispered. Then she straightened up and gave her pelt a shake. “I’ve been thinking about what Sagenose said,” she began. “I hate to consider dividing the Clan, but I can’t deny it any longer—we could all die of the sickness if we stay here together. The best chance we have is to split off some healthy cats to go look for Echosong.”

“But what will happen to them?” Hawkwing asked, angling his ears toward the sick cats.

“I will stay with them,” Leafstar replied, her voice full of love and sorrow. “They are my cats. I am sworn to protect them.”

Hawkwing stood silent for a moment, hardly able to believe that it had come to this, that his Clan leader was forced to make these terrible decisions, without even StarClan to guide her. It had been so long since their warrior ancestors had spoken to them, even before Echosong had left.