Эрин Хантер: Crookedstar’s Promise

“That’s my tail you’re digging your claws into!”

“Sorry!” Stormkit guiltily hopped off his brother’s tail. “We have to punish those squirrel-chasers for stealing our territory, right?”

Oakkit didn’t answer. He was watching Brambleberry. The white medicine cat had slid out from her den among the sedges.

“Do you think we should fight, Brambleberry?” Hailstar asked.

Brambleberry shook her head. “Not now. I have no way to treat battle wounds. The flood took my herbs and my store will stay empty till newleaf brings fresh crops. I can only use the most basic remedies.”

“And we’re half-starved,” Troutclaw added.

Stormkit blinked. He hadn’t been hungry. Rainflower always had enough milk for him and Oakkit. He studied his Clanmates and noticed for the first time how thin they were looking. Nearly as scrawny as ThunderClan cats.

Hailstar sighed. “I don’t want to start a battle we are likely to lose. And I don’t want warriors with injuries that can’t be healed.”

Rippleclaw lashed his tail. “Then we’re just going to let them take as much territory as they want?”

“They only want Sunningrocks,” Echomist pointed out. “They’d never try to cross the river.”

Piketooth growled, “There’s prey at Sunningrocks. Forest prey that could make up for the lack of fish.” He kicked the carp lying at his paws. “It took all morning to catch this.”

Echomist dipped her head. “But it’s almost newleaf. It won’t be long before we have more prey than we need. And right now I’d rather go hungry than lose another Clanmate.” She glanced at Troutclaw.

Piketooth dug his claws into the earth. “Are we going to give up Sunningrocks without a murmur?”

“No.” Hailstar crossed the clearing and leaped onto the low branch of the willow. He glanced toward Sunningrocks. “Rippleclaw, Shellheart.” His tail swept the bark. “Take Ottersplash and Brightsky to Sunningrocks. Don’t fight. Tell Pinestar and his Clanmates that they may have Sunningrocks today. But warn them: Those rocks are RiverClan’s and we will defend them soon.”

“Don’t worry. Those snake-hearts will get the message!” Shellheart’s claws sprayed soft earth as he charged for the entrance tunnel with Rippleclaw, Brightsky, and Ottersplash pounding after.

“Quick!” As his Clanmates bunched into anxious, murmuring groups, Stormkit hissed in his brother’s ear and dashed back to the fallen tree. He scampered along the trunk, checking over his shoulder.

Oakkit was following. “Where are we going?”

“To watch.”

“Watch what?”

“We’re going to watch Shellheart tell Pinestar off!” Stormkit scampered along the branch. “Dig your claws in,” he warned his brother. “It’s slippery.”

When the branch grew thin enough to dip under his weight, Stormkit halted and ducked down to let Oakkit watch over his shoulder. Only four ThunderClan warriors remained on Sunningrocks. Pinestar was still lying on the smooth, flat rock, showing his belly to the leaf-bare sun. A bright ginger tom sat beside him, eyes closed, tail wrapped over his paws.

“That must be Sunfall, the deputy,” Oakkit whispered. “Volekit said he was ginger.”

Two lithe warriors paced back and forth beside the leader and deputy: a blue-gray tom and a mottled tabby. Their eyes were wide and their ears pricked. Suddenly the tabby halted and stared at the river.

Stormkit followed his gaze. Shellheart was swimming toward Sunningrocks. Water splashed as Rippleclaw, Brightsky, and Ottersplash plunged in after him. On Sunningrocks, the gray tom’s pelt had bristled along his spine. He darted to the edge of the rocks and showed his teeth, his gaze fixed on the RiverClan patrol.

Pinestar jumped to his paws, quickly followed by Sunfall. The four ThunderClan warriors lined up on the crest of the rock as Shellheart launched himself, dripping, from the water. In two bounds, the RiverClan deputy scaled the smooth cliff face. Sunfall arched his back and hissed as Shellheart approached. Pinestar narrowed his eyes.

Stormkit felt Oakkit tense behind him. “Will they fight?” Oakkit breathed.

“Wait.” Stormkit’s paws trembled with excitement as Rippleclaw leaped up onto Sunningrocks with Brightsky and Ottersplash following.

Stormkit pricked his ears, straining to hear.

“You’re on RiverClan territory,” Shellheart growled.

Sunfall took a step forward. “Make us leave, then.”

Shellheart flicked his tail. “This is not yet a battle worth fighting,” he meowed. He looked back toward the RiverClan camp, clearly visible through the leafless trees. “But we’ll be watching. You should watch out, too, because this is our land and we will defend it.”

The gray tom’s lip curled. “But not today?”

Rippleclaw darted forward, flattening his ears. “If it comes to a battle,” he hissed in the gray tom’s face, “it’ll be me who shreds you first.”

“Rippleclaw!” Shellheart called the warrior back and met Pinestar’s narrowed gaze. “You can have Sunningrocks for now. Help yourself to any fresh-kill you find here. RiverClan doesn’t need mice. But we’ll take it back when we want it back.”

Stormkit could feel his brother’s heart pounding. “Mangy mouse-eaters,” he muttered. “Enjoy Sunningrocks while you can.”

Shellheart jumped down to the riverbank and waited while Rippleclaw, Ottersplash, and Brightsky dived past him into the water. He glanced back up at the rock face once more before following his Clanmates.

“Watch out!” Oakkit’s yelp made Stormkit jump. “The magpie’s coming back!”

Stormkit looked up and saw a flash of black-and-white feathers outlined against the gray sky. “Hold on to me!” he ordered.

As Oakkit sank his claws into his pelt, Stormkit reared up on his hind legs. He lashed out at the magpie with his forepaws just as it swooped level with the branch. Held firm by Oakkit, Stormkit slashed again and again until he felt his claws slice through feather and reach flesh.

Squawking, the magpie wheeled away, and Stormkit dropped to four paws.

Oakkit let go and blinked at him. “Nice move!”

“Thanks for hanging on to me.” Stormkit looked at the bloody feathers caught in his claws. “I don’t think that magpie will be back for a while.” He blinked triumphantly at his brother. “We’re going to be the best warriors RiverClan’s ever seen.”

Stormkit stretched in his nest, feeling the muscles slide underneath his glossy fur. He could almost reach from one wall to the other in this corner of the nursery. Early-morning sunshine filtered through the roof, making the reed walls glow. In the three moons since ThunderClan had stolen Sunningrocks, the sun had grown hotter and higher in the sky. New growth speared up through the old reed bed and the sedge bushes smelled sweet and lush.

“Wake up!” Stormkit whispered in Oakkit’s ear.

Rainflower stirred sleepily and wrapped her tail over Stormkit’s belly. “Go back to sleep, little warrior,” she purred. “It’s still early.”

Stormkit shook off her warm, soft tail and sat up. He poked Oakkit with a paw.

“What is it?” Oakkit grumbled, his eyes tightly shut.

“Let’s go explore.”

“Remember to stay in camp,” Rainflower murmured sleepily.

“Of course,” Stormkit promised. He poked Oakkit again.

Oakkit hid his nose under a paw. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

“We’ve been asleep all night. The dawn patrol left ages ago.”

In Echomist’s nest, Beetlekit struggled to his paws, his black pelt rumpled. “Is it time to eat?”

Volekit opened his eyes. “Yeah, I’m hungry.”