Читать книгу MOONRISE - Erin Hunter, Эрин Хантер - Страница 10

Leafpaw wrinkled her nose at the foul scent and tried not to hiss in disgust. Shaking her head, she parted Sorreltail’s tortoiseshell fur with one paw and dabbed the wad of bile-soaked moss on the tick clinging to her shoulder.

Sorreltail wriggled as she felt the bile soak through her fur. “That’s better!” she meowed. “Has it gone yet?”

Leafpaw opened her mouth and dropped the twig that held the moss. “Give it time.”

“There’s only one good thing about ticks,” Sorreltail mewed. “They hate mouse bile just as much as we do.” Springing to her paws, she gave herself a vigorous shake and flicked the tick off her shoulder. “There! Thanks, Leafpaw.”

A breeze rustled through the trees that surrounded the medicine cat’s den. A few leaves drifted down; there was a chill in the morning air that warned Leafpaw of how few moons there were before leaf-bare. This time there would be more than the cold and shortage of prey to face. Leafpaw closed her eyes and shuddered as she remembered what she had seen the day before on patrol with her father, Firestar.

The biggest monster the cats had ever seen had been forging a dreadful path through the forest, scoring deep ruts into the earth and tearing up trees by their roots. The huge, shiny monster had rolled inexorably through the bracken, roaring and belching smoke while the cats scattered helplessly before it. For the first time, Leafpaw began to understand the danger to the forest, which had been prophesied twice now, once in Brambleclaw’s dream that had sent him on the journey with Squirrelpaw, and once in Cinderpelt’s vision of fire and tiger. The doom that had been foretold was coming upon the forest, and Leafpaw did not know what any cat could do to stop it.

“Are you ok, Leafpaw?” meowed Sorreltail.

Leafpaw blinked. The vision of smoke, splintered trees, and shrieking cats faded away, to be replaced by soft green ferns and the smooth grey rock where Cinderpelt made her den. She was safe, ThunderClan was still here—but for how long? “Yes, I’m fine,” she replied. Firestar had ordered the patrol to keep quiet about what they had seen until he had decided how to break the news to the Clan. “I’ve got to go and wash this mouse bile off my paws.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sorreltail offered. “Then we could go along the ravine and pick up some fresh-kill.”

Leafpaw led the way into the main clearing. Whitepaw and Shrewpaw were scuffling outside the apprentices’ den in warm shafts of early morning sunlight, while Ferncloud’s three kits watched them with huge admiring eyes. Their mother sat at the entrance to the nursery, washing herself while keeping one eye on her litter. The dawn patrol—Dustpelt, Mousefur, and Spiderpaw—were just pushing their way into the clearing through the gorse tunnel, Dustpelt’s eyes narrowing with pleasure as he caught sight of Ferncloud and his kits. Leafpaw gazed at the busy, peaceful camp, and could hardly keep back a wail of despair.

As soon as the apprentices spotted Leafpaw, they stopped their practice fight and stared at her, then started whispering urgently together. Even the cats in the returning patrol gave her an uneasy look as they padded over to the fresh-kill pile. Leafpaw knew that rumours about yesterday’s patrol were starting to fly around the camp. At daybreak Firestar had called his deputy, Greystripe; Leafpaw’s mother, Sandstorm; and Cinderpelt into a meeting in his den, and every cat had begun to suspect that something unusual had happened the day before.

Before she and Sorreltail could reach the gorse tunnel, Firestar appeared from his den at the foot of the Highrock. Greystripe and Sandstorm followed him out into the clearing with Cinderpelt limping after them. Firestar leaped to the top of the rock, leaving the other three cats to find comfortable places to sit at its base. In the slanting leaf-fall sun, his flame-coloured pelt blazed like the fire that gave him his name.

“Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting,” he called.

Leafpaw felt her belly lurch as Sorreltail nudged her gently towards the front of the gathering cats. “You know what he’s going to say, don’t you?” the tortoiseshell warrior murmured.

Leafpaw nodded bleakly.

“I knew something weird happened yesterday,” Sorreltail went on. “You all came back looking as if the whole of ShadowClan were clawing at your tails.”

“I wish it were just that,” Leafpaw muttered.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” Firestar began, then paused to take a deep breath. “I . . . I don’t know if any Clan leader has ever had to take his Clan into the darkness that I see ahead.” His voice faltered and his eyes met Sandstorm’s, seeming to draw strength from the she-cat’s steady gaze. “Some time ago, Ravenpaw warned me about more Twoleg activity on the Thunderpath. Back then, I didn’t think it was important, and there was nothing we could do anyway because that is not our territory. But yesterday . . .”

A tense silence had fallen in the clearing. Firestar did not often sound so serious; Leafpaw could see how reluctant he was to go on, how he had to force himself to speak.

“My patrol was not far from Snakerocks when we saw a Twoleg monster leave the Thunderpath. It tore into the earth and pushed trees over. It—”

“But that’s ridiculous!” Sootfur interrupted. “Monsters never leave the Thunderpath.”

“This isn’t another of his dreams, is it?” Dustpelt’s question was too low for Firestar to hear, though Leafpaw caught the muttered words. “A tough bit of fresh-kill too late at night?”

“Shut up and listen.” Cloudtail, Firestar’s kin, glared at Dustpelt.

“I saw it too,” Greystripe confirmed from his place at the foot of the rock.

Dead silence followed his words. Leafpaw watched the cats glance at one another with uncertainty and fear in their eyes. Sorreltail turned to Leafpaw. “Is that really what you saw?”

Leafpaw nodded. “You can’t imagine what it was like.”

“What does Cinderpelt have to say?” Speckletail called from where she sat among the elders. “Has StarClan shown you anything?”

The medicine cat rose to her paws and faced the Clan, her blue eyes steady. Of all the cats, even Firestar, she seemed the calmest.

Before she replied, she looked up to meet Firestar’s gaze; Leafpaw could almost see flashing between them the memory of the prophecy of fire and tiger that Cinderpelt had seen in a clump of blazing bracken. She wondered how much they had decided to tell the Clan, in the meeting that had just ended. Then Firestar nodded as if he was giving Cinderpelt permission to speak; she acknowledged his signal with a brief dip of her head.

“The signs from StarClan are not clear,” she admitted. “I see a time of great danger and change for the forest. A terrible doom hangs over us all.”

“Then you have had warnings about this! Why haven’t you told us before?” Mousefur challenged with a lash of her tail.

“Don’t be mouse-brained!” Cloudtail growled. “What good would it have done? What could we do? Leave the forest—and go where? Wandering around in strange country with leaf-bare coming on? You might fancy that, Mousefur, but I don’t.”

“If you ask me, Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw had the right idea,” Sootfur muttered to his brother Rainwhisker. “Getting out when they did.”

Leafpaw wanted to leap to the missing cats’ defense, but she made herself sit still and keep quiet. She was the only cat in the Clan who knew that Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw had left on a mission from StarClan to try to save the forest from this terrible danger. Stormfur and Feathertail, Greystripe’s RiverClan children, had gone with them, and cats from WindClan and ShadowClan too. However much their Clanmates missed them, Leafpaw knew it was for the good of all the Clans that they had gone.

Yet the danger was here now, she thought, apprehension gripping her belly, and the missing cats had not returned. Did that mean they had failed? Did it mean StarClan had failed, in spite of the warnings they had sent?

Cinderpelt’s calm gaze rested on the hushed and waiting Clan. “There will be great danger,” she repeated. “But I do not believe that ThunderClan will be destroyed.”

The Clan cats looked at one another, bewildered and afraid. The silence seemed to stretch out for a thousand heartbeats, until it was broken by a single eerie wail rising from the group of elders. As if that were a signal, more yowls and cries of terror broke out. Faced with the terror of approaching monsters, few of the Clan could believe Cinderpelt’s reassurances.

Ferncloud swept her tail protectively around her three kits, drawing them into the shelter of her flecked grey fur. “What are we going to do?” she cried.

Dustpelt got up and pressed his nose comfortingly into her side. “We’ll do something,” he promised. “We’ll show the Twolegs this is our place.”

“And how do you propose doing that?” Mousefur asked, her voice harsh. “When have Twolegs ever cared about us? They do what they want.”

“Their monsters will frighten all the prey,” Ashfur added. “We already know the forest is emptier than it’s ever been, and leaf-bare is coming. What are we going to eat?”

More terrified caterwauling broke out, and several heartbeats went by before Firestar could make himself heard again.

“We can’t decide what to do until we know more,” he meowed, when the noise had died to apprehensive muttering. “What happened yesterday was near Snakerocks, well away from here. It’s possible that the Twolegs won’t come any further.”

“Then why would StarClan send any warnings at all?” Thornclaw asked. “We’ve got to face it, Firestar—we can’t pretend this isn’t happening.”

“I’ll arrange extra patrols,” Firestar assured him, “and I’m going to try speaking to ShadowClan. This was near their border, and they may have had trouble too.”

“You can’t believe anything ShadowClan tells you,” Cloudtail growled. “They wouldn’t give you a mousetail if you were starving.”

“Maybe not,” Firestar replied. “But if the Twolegs have invaded their territory, they might be prepared to talk if it meant we could help one another.”

“And hedgehogs might fly,” Cloudtail grunted. He turned away from Firestar and muttered something into the ear of his mate, Brightheart, who pushed her nose into his fur as if she were reassuring him.

“Everyone must keep alert,” Firestar continued. “If you see anything unusual, I want to know. We survived the flood and the fire. We survived Tigerstar’s dog pack, and the threat from Scourge and BloodClan. We will survive this too.”

He leaped down from the rock to show that the meeting was at an end.

Immediately the cats in the clearing broke into anxious little knots, discussing what they had just heard. Firestar and Cinderpelt spoke briefly together, and then Cinderpelt padded over to Leafpaw.

“Firestar is going to see ShadowClan right away,” the medicine cat announced. “He wants you to come too.”

Mingled excitement and apprehension clawed at Leafpaw. “Why me?”

“He wants both medicine cats with him. He thinks that if we’re there Blackstar will realise that ThunderClan isn’t looking for a fight.” Cinderpelt’s blue eyes flashed. “All the same, Leafpaw, I hope you’ve practiced your fighting moves recently.”

Leafpaw swallowed. “Yes, Cinderpelt.”

“Good.” With a wave of her tail, she led the way to where Firestar was waiting at the entrance to the gorse tunnel. Greystripe and Brackenfur were with him.

“Let’s go,” meowed Firestar. “And remember, I don’t want any trouble. We’re only going to talk.”

Greystripe snorted. “Try telling that to ShadowClan. If a patrol catches us on their territory, they’ll claw us as soon as they see us.”

“Let’s hope not,” Firestar replied with feeling. “If the Twolegs are threatening both our Clans, we can’t afford to waste our strength in fighting one another.”

Greystripe still looked doubtful, but he said nothing more as Firestar led them up the ravine towards the ShadowClan border. Leafpaw kept her ears pricked for any unusual sounds, and every hair on her pelt stood on end. The forest that had been safe for as long as she could remember was suddenly a frightening place, invaded by the Twolegs and their monsters.

Firestar led his patrol directly towards Snakerocks, and soon Leafpaw realised that he was heading for the spot where the monster had left the Thunderpath. Before they came in sight of it she picked up the reek of the monster and the rich earthy smell of the torn ground. When she came to the top of the slope above the Thunderpath, she stopped and peered through a clump of bracken.

Just below her, a swath of churned-up grass stretched as far as the Thunderpath. Trees lay on the ground, their roots tangling in the air. Everything was silent; Leafpaw couldn’t hear a single bird, or the scuffling of prey in the grass. But the monster had gone, and when she opened her jaws to drink in the air, the scent of Twolegs was stale. Even the reek of the monster was beginning to fade.

“They haven’t been here today,” Greystripe meowed. “Perhaps they’ve finished whatever they were doing.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Firestar replied tersely.

“This is . . . terrible.” Brackenfur sounded stunned. He had not been on the original patrol. “Why are they destroying the forest, Firestar?”

The tip of Firestar’s tail twitched back and forth. “Why do Twolegs do anything? If we knew that, our lives would be a lot easier.”

Skirting the edge of the damaged area, he led the way along the Thunderpath. Leafpaw’s belly lurched as she saw that more trees had been felled in ShadowClan’s territory, and more ground had been churned up.

Every one of the ThunderClan cats stopped to stare across the hard black surface. Brackenfur dropped into a crouch as if he were about to spring into attack, but there was no enemy to fight.

“Look at that!” Greystripe’s voice shook with horror. “You were right, Firestar. ShadowClan is having exactly the same trouble.”

“Then that should make it easier to talk to Blackstar.” Firestar was trying to sound confident, but his ears were laid flat against his head.

Cinderpelt gave the scarred area a long look before turning away, shaking her head. Though she said nothing, her blue eyes were filled with dread and confusion.

A monster roared by on the Thunderpath, smaller than the tree-eating monsters but still deafeningly noisy. Leafpaw flinched, half expecting it to veer into the forest where they were standing. But it stayed on the Thunderpath and growled away until it vanished among the trees. Another monster followed it; then a third raced along in the opposite direction.

“I don’t want to cross here,” Greystripe muttered, blinking grit out of his eyes.

Firestar nodded. “We’ll cross the stream by Fourtrees and go through the tunnel,” he decided. “And just hope we don’t meet any ShadowClan warriors on this side of the Thunderpath.”

When they reached the stream, Firestar crossed in a couple of bounds by a stepping-stone in the middle. Leafpaw kept an eye on her mentor, making sure that Cinderpelt crossed safely in spite of the old injury to her leg from a Thunderpath accident seasons before. Then she followed her across as Firestar climbed the opposite bank.

A light breeze was blowing towards them, carrying the rank scent of ShadowClan. At the border, Firestar and Greystripe renewed the scent markings, before Firestar led the way towards the tunnel under the Thunderpath.

To Leafpaw’s relief, there was no sign of ShadowClan cats in this section of their territory. The elders had told her many stories about that Clan’s dark-hearted history, from the murderer Brokenstar, who had killed his own father, to treacherous Tigerstar, who had made himself ShadowClan leader when he was exiled from ThunderClan. The present leader, Blackstar, hadn’t caused any trouble so far, but Leaf paw knew that Firestar didn’t really trust him. As she followed him into the tunnel, she admired him even more for his courage in trying to make allies of his old enemies for the sake of the forest.

Leafpaw shivered as she plunged into the gloomy silence beneath the Thunderpath, broken only by the drip of water and the plashing of their paws in the mud that covered the bottom of the tunnel. On the ShadowClan side the harsh scent was stronger than ever. The ground under Leafpaw’s paws was dank and marshy, covered with coarse scrubby grass. Here and there were pools fringed with reeds; there were few tall trees, unlike those that sheltered the ThunderClan camp. It felt like another world.

“The ShadowClan camp is this way,” Firestar meowed, heading for a clump of bushes. “Leafpaw, Cinderpelt, keep close to me. Greystripe and Brackenfur, spread out and keep watch. And remember that we’re not looking for trouble.”

Leafpaw padded behind Firestar as they headed deeper into ShadowClan territory. She hated the way her paws sank into mud at every step. She kept wanting to stop to flick away the moisture. It was hard to imagine ShadowClan cats putting up with it every day of their lives. Surely they would have grown webbed paws by now? Her muscles began to ache from the strain of keeping alert; when Brackenfur called out she jumped nervously and then hoped that no cat had noticed.

“Firestar, come and look at this.” Brackenfur pointed with his tail to a thin piece of wood, too smooth and regular to be the branch of a tree, standing upright in the ground about the height of a cat. Firestar padded over to and sniffed at it suspiciously. “It reeks of Twolegs,” he reported.

“There’s another over there,” Leafpaw called, spotting a matching stick a few fox-lengths further away. “And another—all in a line! What are they—”

Her voice died away. As she bounded towards the next piece of wood, the bushes in front of her rustled and three cats stepped out into the open. She quickly recognised Russetfur, the dark ginger she-cat who was ShadowClan’s deputy; the other warriors, a dark grey tom and a lean tabby with a torn ear, were strangers to her.

Leafpaw swallowed nervously.

Firestar was already bounding up to her. “Greetings, Russetfur,” he meowed.

“You’re trespassing on our territory,” snarled the Shadow -Clan deputy.

With a flick of her tail she summoned her warriors forwards. Leafpaw barely had time to dodge, as the dark grey tom sprang at her; she felt claws rake down her side as she rolled away and scrambled to her paws, trying to remember her fighting moves. She caught a glimpse of Cinderpelt and Russetfur stalking around each other; a tail-length away, Greystripe had the tabby pinned down, while Brackenfur and the other tom writhed together in a screeching bundle of grey and ginger fur.

For a moment she could not see Firestar. Glancing around wildly, she saw that he had leaped on to one of the fallen tree trunks. His voice rose in a yowl above the hissing and spitting.

“Stop!”