Crookedstar’s Promise полностью

Highstones reared above them, the setting sun melting over its peaks. The last Thunderpath had been the hardest to cross, the gaps between monsters so narrow that Willowpaw was still trembling from the mad dash across the slippery stone. Crookedpaw forced his pelt to lie flat even though his heart was still racing. Brightsky led them quickly away from the bitter stench up toward the foot of Highstones. The earth was darker here, the grass coarser underpaw, giving way to bare, rocky soil dotted with patches of clinging heather.

“Look!” Willowpaw tilted her chin.

Crookedpaw screwed up his eyes against the sun sliding down behind the peaks. As it disappeared, the shadowed slope lightened and he could make out a square black hole yawning darkly beneath a stone archway.

Graypaw gasped. “Is that Mothermouth?”

“Yes.” Owlfur climbed onto a wide, smooth stone and sat down. “But we have to wait till nearly moonhigh before we go in.”

“I’m hungry,” Willowpaw complained.

Brightsky shook her head. “No fish or birds here,” she meowed sympathetically.

Crookedpaw pricked his ears. “There may be mice.” He tasted the air. There was definitely a musky scent worth investigating.

Cedarpelt turned. “Mice?”

“They’re easy to hunt,” Crookedpaw enthused.

“Not as nice as fish,” Brightsky meowed. “But I suppose they’ll fill your belly.”

“If you can catch one,” Cedarpelt snorted.

Is that a challenge? Crookedpaw hurried away across the slope, ears scanning the gravelly earth for the scrabbling of tiny paws. He ducked behind a patch of heather and waited. The sky darkened and stars began to prick the sky. Crookedpaw’s nose twitched.

Mouse?

He peered through the shadows. Something was shifting the pebbles farther along the slope. It smelled musky but was making a lot of noise for a mouse. Suddenly a pale tabby shape sped past and leaped skidding over the shale, sending pebbles cracking across the slope. Crookedpaw darted out from behind the heather and stared round-eyed as Willowpaw turned and lifted her head. A dead rabbit hung from her jaws. She carried it back to her Clanmates.

Crookedpaw stiffened. What would Owlfur say? RiverClan cats didn’t catch rabbits! He followed Willowpaw and climbed up onto the rock where his Clanmates had settled. They sat staring at the dead rabbit, their fur twitching.

Willowpaw shrugged. “It’s fresh-kill.”

Graypaw’s nostrils flared as she breathed in its warm scent.

Brightsky mewed, “I guess.”

Owlfur wrapped his tail tighter around his paws. “If we’re going to eat it, we should do it now.” He looked up at the moon rising, fat and white, in the sky. “It’s nearly time.”

They shared the rabbit between them, though no one commented on the taste. Crookedpaw secretly enjoyed the rich meaty flavor but he wasn’t going to admit it. Graypaw finished eating first.

“You must have been hungry.” Brightsky pushed her share toward her apprentice. “You might as well have mine.”

As Graypaw gulped it down, Cedarpelt stood and stretched. “Let’s go.” He began to pad up the slope toward Mothermouth. Owlfur fell in behind.

Brightsky got to her paws. “Come on.” She nudged Graypaw, who followed her, noisily chewing her last mouthful. “Doesn’t anything ruin your appetite?” Brightsky purred, shaking her head. “You do realize you’re about to meet StarClan, don’t you?”

Willowpaw’s eyes sparkled with starlight. Crookedpaw flicked his tail down her spine. “Excited?”

Willowpaw nodded and bounded up the steep, stony slope. Crookedpaw’s heart quickened as he trotted after her. As he neared the shadowy entrance, he shivered. Cold air iced with the tang of stone rolled from the mouth of the tunnel.

Cedarpelt had paused and the others clustered around him. “Ready?” He gazed at his Clanmates. They nodded but no one spoke. “Stay close.” He slid into the night-black shadow.

Crookedpaw trotted after him. The tunnel sloped down into the darkness and the cold reached through his thick fur and into his bones. This air had never felt the sun. Crookedpaw gave up straining to see anything. He could hear Brightsky’s paw steps behind him and feel her breath on his tail. His whiskers brushed stone and he veered away, careful not to crash into the wall. The tunnel bent and the slope under his paws steepened.

Suddenly the dank air freshened. Crookedpaw sniffed, relieved to smell the familiar world above. He could scent earth and grass and heather. There must be a hole in the roof of the tunnel. He looked up, searching for a patch of starlight in the blackness. “Where are we?”

“We’re in the Moonstone cave.” Cedarpelt halted ahead of him and guided Crookedpaw forward with a flick of his tail. A distant drip echoed against the rock and he could hear his Clanmates breathing. Willowpaw’s pelt brushed his and Graypaw’s pads grazed the stone as they stood, waiting.

“Where is the Moonstone?” Willowpaw whispered.

Suddenly, in a flash more blinding than the setting sun, the cave lit up. Crookedpaw closed his eyes in surprise. Willowpaw recoiled against him.