Эрин Хантер - Secrets Оf Тhe Clans

Allied ShadowClan with RiverClan to make TigerClan.

Brought BloodClan into forest at cost of many cats’ lives.

Killed by Blood, the leader of BloodClan.

Deputy:Blackfoot (later Blackstar)

Apprentice:Ravenpaw (while in ThunderClan)

Large white tom with huge jet-black paws.

Arrogant and defensive. Tigerclaw brought him back to ShadowClan from exile—he still feels a hint of gratitude and loyalty toward the dangerous tabby.

Led Clan away from Twoleg devastation in the forest to new lake home.

Deputy:Russetfur

Apprentice:Tallpaw (Tallpoppy)

Dark gray tabby tom.

Selfless, caring, desperate to help his Clanmates with any problem.

Weakened himself by working tirelessly.

Realized that rats at Carrionplace were a source of infection.

(Unfortunately he died from a rat-borne infection.) (See Beyond the Territories, How the Moonstone Was Discovered .)

(See ThunderClan Medicine Cats, Yellowfang .)

Small gray-and-white tom with perpetual sniffle.

Nervous and quiet. Lived long enough to retire and become an elder.

Apprentice:Littlecloud

Undersize brown tabby tom with light blue eyes.

Compassionate and devoted to his calling.

Close friends with ThunderClan medicine cat Cinderpelt ever since she saved his life.

As a warrior, sought help from ThunderClan during time of terrible disease. Returned with remedy that saved ShadowClan.

As soon as I found out I was going to have kits, I knew it was a punishment from StarClan. Medicine cats are not supposed to fall in love. My relationship with Raggedstar was wrong in every way, and I knew it.

But I never expected all of ShadowClan would be punished for my mistakes.

I kept my secret well. No cat knew that their medicine cat was carrying kits, although of course I told Raggedstar. He was so pleased…

That should have frightened me even more. The arrogance of thinking we could do whatever we wanted, without consequences…

It was a hard birth, a horrible birth. That was an omen too. I snuck out of camp that morning, knowing my kits were coming. I found a hollow in a dead tree, filled with damp leaves. There was a smell of toadstools and something rotting, but I didn’t have the strength to drag myself any farther. And I hoped the stench would hide my scent while I gave birth, alone in the woods. I didn’t want any ShadowClan cats to find me, not even Raggedstar. I just wanted it to be over.

I felt like I was lying in that dead tree for days. Everything hurt—my whole body, down to the tips of my fur and the ends of my claws.

As a medicine cat, I should have been able to take care of myself, but I was too weak to do anything, even eat the herbs I’d brought.

Finally there were three small bundles next to me on the pile of leaves. Two of them were squirming; one was completely still. I prodded it with my paw, but she had been born dead. Her eyes would never open.

I dragged the other two toward me. With all the strength I could manage, I began to lick them, trying to warm them and wake them up. One let out an angry wail the minute I touched him; the other only whimpered slightly and jerked her paws. I could see that the tom kit was a fighter right from the beginning. His lungs were so powerful, I was surprised it didn’t bring the entire Clan running to find us. He battered his sister with his paws every time he moved, but she barely reacted.

I tried as long as I could, licking and licking her, but her breathing only got shallower and shallower, until finally it stopped alto-gether. Her tail twitched once and was still. I buried my nose in her fur, feeling grief crash down on me. It was a clear sign from StarClan.

These kits should never have been born.

I turned my attention to my only surviving kit and saw the expression on his small, flat face. He was new to the world—couldn’t yet see, could barely crawl to my belly to feed. And yet his face was already twisted with strong emotion… Rage? Hatred? I’d never seen such a terrifying look on any cat, let alone a tiny newborn kit.

Fear flooded through me, making me cold. Maybe this kit wasn’t meant to survive, either. A kit born with so much anger in him could mean only grave danger to the Clan, maybe to the whole forest.

But then he squirmed over to me and pressed his face into my fur.

He was so small, so helpless. Perhaps I had misunderstood what I’d seen. He was only a little kit, after all—my kit, and the son of Raggedstar, the cat I loved. I couldn’t keep him for myself, but I could watch him from across the clearing as he grew up. I could make sure he turned into a fine warrior. I licked the top of his head, and he let out a small purr. My heart seemed to expand to fill my whole chest.

I buried his sisters before we returned to camp, digging deep into the dirt so no cat would ever sniff them out. Then I slunk back through the undergrowth, my fur matted and stinking of toadstools, the kit dangling from my mouth. I stopped to clean myself in a pool near the camp entrance. By the time we entered the camp, no cat would be able to guess the ordeal I had been through.

Raggedstar spotted us the minute I pushed through the bramble tunnel. He barely even looked at me; his eyes were all for the kit, and they were full of hope and excitement. He came bounding across the clearing to follow me into the nursery.

Lizardstripe was there, of course, tending to her own two kits, born a few days earlier. Her pale brown tabby fur and white underbelly seemed to glow in the darkness of the nursery den. She looked at me with narrow, unfriendly eyes. I had never really liked or trusted Lizardstripe, but she was the only nursing queen at the moment. I had no choice.

I dropped the kit at her paws, and he let out another furious shriek.

“What,” said Lizardstripe, “is that ?”

“It’s a kit,” I said.

“It’s my kit,” Raggedstar said proudly, shouldering his way into the den.

“Oh, yes?” Lizardstripe said dryly. “What a miracle. If I’d known toms could have kits, I would have made Mudclaw have these brats of mine himself.”

Raggedstar ignored her. The space seemed to get smaller with him in it, as if he drew all the light into himself. I wanted to press myself into his fur and tell him everything I’d been through and about the two tiny bodies out in the forest. But he still wasn’t looking at me.

He crouched and sniffed at his son. The kit tried to lift his head and then swiped his paw through the air, connecting with Raggedstar’s nose. Our leader jerked his head back in surprise.

“Look at that!” he cried delightedly. “He’s a little warrior already!”

Lizardstripe’s yellow gaze was making me uncomfortable. “His mother wishes to keep her identity secret,” I said. “She cannot be a mother to this kit, and she hopes that you will take him in for her.”

Lizardstripe lashed her tail. “What kind of mouse-brained non-sense is that?” she snapped. “Why should I have to put up with another mewling lump of fur? I didn’t ask for these kits, either, but you don’t see me dumping them on some other cat. It’s not my job to take care of every unwanted kitten in the Clan.”