Эрин Хантер - Battles of the Clans

“Five of us against an entire Clan?” Owlfur mused. “We’ll need to be lucky.”

“We’ll make our own luck,” I told him grimly.

The sharp scent of WindClan grew stronger as we approached the gorse bushes. Pushing through the barrier, I stood at the edge of the shallow dip and looked down at the camp. More bushes screened scoops in the dusty soil that must have made rather drafty dens, and on the far side, a hawthorn tree with low-hanging branches enclosed a nest where the faintest squeaks and rustlings could be heard.

“That must be the nursery,” I whispered, nodding toward the hawthorn.

Guards , Timberfur mouthed as two cats appeared at the rim of the hollow. He looked searchingly at me. “How much force do you want us to use?”

I knew what he was asking. I wasn’t going to tell my warriors to break the warrior code—that had suffered enough already—but I wanted those kits back where they belonged. “Enough.”

Timberfur nodded.

The guards were heading toward us but hadn’t seen us yet. Timberfur and Rippleclaw turned and vanished back through the gorse bushes. A moment later, they slipped into view just behind the patrolling cats. Silently, and perfectly in step, they sprang onto the backs of the guards and rolled them into the gorse. Any squawks were quickly muffled; the bushes quivered briefly; then all was still. I pictured my warriors sitting heavily on the WindClan cats, keeping them quiet.

Lifting my tail to signal to my Clanmates, I raced down the side of the hollow and across the clearing to the hawthorn.

“Stop! Who’s there?”

A yowl went up behind me; we’d been spotted. I nodded to Owlfur and Ottersplash, and they plunged through the branches of the hawthorn. At once the queens inside started shrieking and scrabbling to protect the kits. I spun around to face the cat who’d raised the alarm. It was Dawnstripe, her gold-and-cream-striped fur almost white in the starlight.

“Hailstar!” She gasped. “What are you doing?”

More cats were emerging from their dens around the hollow; there was no way any of them were going to listen to me. I whirled around and forced my way into the nursery. Inside was solid darkness, muggy and scented. “Ottersplash? Owlfur?” I hissed.

“Over here,” Owlfur replied from the far corner. His voice sounded muffled, as if he were holding fur in his mouth. “The kits are with me.”

There was a hiss and paws scrabbled against the earthen floor. “Let me go,” spat the queen.

“Those are WindClan kits!”

“Not anymore,” I growled. Nosing forward, being careful not to tread on any small bundles of fur, I found Fallowtail’s daughters. They were bigger than when I’d last seen them—of course—but they still carried her scent, and the touch of the fur reminded me of her softness. “Graykit? Willowkit?

It’s time to come home.”

I picked one of them up and it let out a squeak.

There was a snarl from the opposite corner. “Put her down, or you’ll regret it.”

Ottersplash’s paw landed on the queen’s ear with a smack. “Those kits are ours, and you know it.”

I couldn’t reply because I had a mouthful of fur. I backed out of the den, shuffling the other kit under my belly with my front paws. Hawthorn branches scraped my pelt; then cold air swept over my haunches. I turned around—and found a line of warriors facing me. Heatherstar stood in the center, her eyes fierce.

“You cannot steal our kits!”

I lowered the kit to the ground—I still wasn’t sure which one it was—and met the WindClan leader’s gaze. “They are RiverClan, too. They belong with their mother.”

“They are my kits as much as Fallowtail’s.” A pale brown tabby stepped alongside Heatherstar.

It was Reedfeather, the deputy. “You said we could have them!”

“I made a mistake.” I forced the words out, choking as if they were thistles. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“You can’t do that,” hissed Heatherstar.

There was movement behind me as Ottersplash and Owlfur emerged from the nursery. “He can,” meowed Owlfur softly. “And we’re here to help him.”

“Three of you against all of us?” Heatherstar sounded scornful.

“Actually, there are five. And right now, I’d say we held the advantage.”

Every cat, including me, turned to look up at the top of the hollow. Rippleclaw and Timberfur stood there with their unsheathed claws pressed against the throats of the guards.

“Let our Clanmates pass, or their blood will feed your barren home,” Timberfur went on. The eyes of the guard he was holding bulged madly.

Heatherstar took a step back. Her gaze when it met mine was puzzled and a little sorrowful. “A threat to kill? That is not how we fight, Hailstar.”

“It is when we have to,” I replied through clenched teeth. I picked up the kit once more, and Ottersplash scooped up the other one. With Owlfur beside us, we carried them through the silent

WindClan warriors and up the slope. Timberfur and Rippleclaw released the guards when we drew level; as the scrawny cats hurtled down the slope to their Clanmates, we pushed through the gorse bushes and started running for the border.

Thundering paw steps behind us told us that we were being pursued. I wasn’t surprised; I would have done the same.

“Faster!” panted Rippleclaw.

The dark ground was a blur beneath my paws, and the kit wailed as she bumped against my legs.

I tried to tip my head back to lift her higher, but she seemed to weigh as much as a full-grown cat, getting heavier with every stride. Owlfur tried to help me, but we couldn’t match our pace and ended up falling over each other, sending the kit flying through the air. Timberfur snatched her up and we raced on. Behind us, the sky was growing lighter, and ahead I could see the dark line of the forest, then an empty gray space where the land dipped down to the river.

“That way!” I screeched, swerving.

The ground started to slope in front of us, lending speed to our paws. But the WindClan warriors hadn’t already climbed up a cliff, and weren’t burdened by kits. I could feel their breath on my tail, and a barb of pain shot through me as one of them reached out to claw my flank. I wrenched myself away and kept running without looking back.

“Get into the river!” I yowled to my Clanmates.

Ottersplash grabbed a mouthful of fur on Timberfur’s kit, and Owlfur helped Rippleclaw with his. Side by side, the warriors raced awkwardly toward the water. I slowed down, offering myself as an easy target to our pursuers. At once I felt myself toppling over, crashing down on a rock, which sent a stab of agony along my ribs. Reedfeather stood over me, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “You can’t steal my kits!”

I looked up at him, wondering if I was about to lose one of my lives. “We already have!” I growled back.

Reedfeather raised his paw, ready to strike, when there was a screech from ahead. “They’re nearly at the river!”

He dropped his paw and leaped away from me. “Stop them!” he ordered.

Letting out a quavering breath, I rolled over and pushed myself up. My warriors stood knee-deep in the water, facing the WindClan cats, with the kits placed on stones above the surface behind them. I charged across the grass, ignoring the pain in my side, and sprang on Reedfeather from behind, knocking him into the river. Cold water rushed up to enfold us in a noisy, bubbling grip. I threw back my head and took a gulp of air before thrusting down with my front paws as hard as I could. Beneath me, Reedfeather struggled to get free, sending up another flood of tiny bubbles. I unsheathed my claws until they pricked his skin beneath his thin fur.

All around me, my warriors wrestled with WindClan cats. Owlfur swept one of his paws and left one cat floundering out of his depth. Ottersplash dived down and surfaced under the belly of another warrior, sending him lurching off balance. Meanwhile, Timberfur and Rippleclaw swam to the far side with the kits and deposited them on the shore.