DAWN. Эрин Хантер
Читать онлайн книгу.
halted beside him. “We would have seen our first Gathering if the Twolegs hadn’t destroyed Four—”
Ashfur shot the white she-cat a warning glance. “They won’t have heard about that yet,” he hissed.
“It’s OK,” Brambleclaw put in. “We know about Fourtrees. Webfoot told us.”
“Webfoot?” Ashfur narrowed his eyes. “Have you been on WindClan territory?”
“We had to travel back that way,” Squirrelpaw explained.
“Back from where?” meowed Shrewpaw, but Squirrelpaw didn’t answer. She had seen Dustpelt and Mousefur emerging from their makeshift den. Sootfur crept out from a hollow beside them. All the warriors were moving closer now, like ghosts slipping through the shadows. Squirrelpaw stifled a shiver as they padded down the rock. She backed away, brushing against Brambleclaw’s pelt and feeling Stormfur edge closer, equally wary. It reminded her of their first meeting with the cats from the Tribe of Rushing Water. Fear stabbed Squirrelpaw’s heart as she realised that it was not just the forest that had changed. Her own Clan was different, too.
“So? Where did you go?” growled a distinctive voice. Frostfur had climbed out of the elders’ gully above them. The old she-cat had lost much of the sleekness from her snow-white pelt, but Squirrelpaw still flinched under her icy stare.
“We’ve been on a long journey,” Brambleclaw began.
“You don’t look like it!” Ferncloud had left her kits and pushed her way to the front. “You look better fed than us.”
Squirrelpaw tried not to feel guilty about the amount of fresh-kill she had caught on the journey. “Ferncloud, I heard about Larchkit, and I’m sorry . . .”
Ferncloud was in no mood to listen. “How do we know you didn’t just desert the Clan because you couldn’t face a hungry leaf-bare with the rest of us?” she hissed.
Squirrelpaw heard Mousefur and Thornclaw mew in agreement, but this time anger overcame her fear. “How could you think such a thing?” she spat, her fur bristling.
“Well, your loyalty clearly lies outside the Clan!” growled Mousefur, staring at Stormfur.
“Our loyalty has always been to the Clan,” Brambleclaw replied evenly. “That’s why we left.”
“Then what’s a RiverClan warrior doing with you?” Dustpelt demanded.
“He has some news for Greystripe,” Brambleclaw meowed. “He’ll leave as soon as he’s spoken to him.”
“He’ll leave now,” Mousefur hissed, taking one pace forwards.
Cinderpelt stepped between Mousefur and Brambleclaw. “Tell them about StarClan’s prophecy,” she urged.
“A prophecy? StarClan has spoken?” Squirrelpaw’s Clanmates stared at her and Brambleclaw like hungry foxes.
“We must tell Firestar first,” Squirrelpaw mewed quietly.
“Where’s Firestar?” Brambleclaw called out.
“He’s away hunting.” It was Sandstorm’s voice.
Squirrelpaw waited breathlessly, half-joyful and half-anxious, as the ginger she-cat padded towards her daughter and stopped a tail-length away to stare at her.
“We’re back.” Squirrelpaw searched her mother’s expression for some sign of welcome.
“You’re back,” Sandstorm echoed wonderingly.
“We had to leave. StarClan gave us no choice.” Brambleclaw defended Squirrelpaw, and she was grateful for the warmth of his flank as he pressed closer. She wanted to confess to her mother that StarClan had not sent the dreams to her, and that she had insisted on going along with Brambleclaw even though he had been reluctant to take her away from the Clan, but fear made the words stick in her throat.
Then Sandstorm’s whiskers quivered and she bounded forwards. “One of my kits has returned!” she mewed, rubbing her cheek against Squirrelpaw’s with fierce love.
She felt a rush of relief. “I’m sorry I left without telling you, but—”
“You’re back,” Sandstorm meowed. “That’s all I care about.” Her warm breath grazed Squirrelpaw’s muzzle. “I wondered if I’d ever see you again.”
Squirrelpaw heard a soft purr trembling in her mother’s throat. It reminded her of when she was a kit, curled in the nursery, her sister at her side. Oh, Leafpaw! Where are you?
A deep meow interrupted them. “It seems that I have my apprentice back,” Dustpelt commented. He was as gaunt and hunted-looking as the other warriors, but his eyes were filled with warmth as he came over to greet her.
“Wherever you have been, you ate well,” he remarked, his eyes widening as he looked at Squirrelpaw’s sturdy muscles and glossy coat.
The tip of Brambleclaw’s tail twitched. “We were lucky. There was plenty of fresh-kill where we travelled.”
“Fresh-kill is what we need more than anything,” mewed Dustpelt. “If you have found good hunting, the Clan should know where.”
“It’s a long way away,” Brambleclaw warned.
Dustpelt flicked his ears. “Then it is not for us,” he meowed. “We have made our home here. We will not let the Twolegs and their monsters drive us out again.” A faint, defiant ripple of agreement sounded from the other cats.
Squirrelpaw stared at them in horror. But they had to leave! Midnight had told them that the Clans would have to find a new home—the dying warrior was going to show them the way—and Squirrelpaw had assumed that the fact that ThunderClan had been driven out of their camp would make the task of persuading them to leave a little easier.
Then she saw a figure on top of the rock, silhouetted against the rosy evening sky. Even though the shadows made it impossible to tell what colour the cat’s pelt was, there was no mistaking the powerful shoulders and the long tail held aloft in greeting.
“Firestar!” Squirrelpaw called.
“Squirrelpaw!” Firestar bounded down the rock, then halted. His whiskers twitched for a heartbeat before he thrust his head forwards and licked Squirrelpaw’s ear. She closed her eyes and purred, briefly forgetting the horror that was engulfing the forest. She was home, and that was all that mattered.
Firestar stepped back. “Where have you been?” he demanded.
“We’ve got so much to tell you,” she answered quickly.
“We?” Firestar echoed. “Is Brambleclaw with you?”
“Yes, I’m here.” Brambleclaw pushed his way through the cats and stood beside Squirrelpaw, dipping his head in respect. The rest of the Clan waited, their eyes glinting in the half-light, and even the wind dropped, as if the forest were holding its breath.
“Welcome home, Brambleclaw.” Squirrelpaw thought she saw a guarded look in her father’s eyes, and she felt a chill run through her.
A flurry of grey fur caught her eye, no more than a shadow flitting down the darkening slope. It was Greystripe. He skidded to a halt beside Firestar. “So, fire and tiger have returned!” he purred.
“Fire and tiger?” Squirrelpaw echoed. What did Greystripe mean?
“There’s time to tell them about that later,” Firestar murmured, his gaze flicking around the watching Clan.
“Oh, of course,” Greystripe meowed, dipping his head. Then his eyes brightened once more. “Have you seen my two kits?” He glanced hopefully from Squirrelpaw to Brambleclaw.
Squirrelpaw nodded. “They went with us,” she explained. “Stormfur—”
“I’m here.” Stormfur pushed his way through the cats.