Crookedstar’s Promise полностью

Oakheart rolled on to his back. “You can have what’s left if you like.” He pushed the remains of his fish toward Crookedpaw.

“I’m not hungry.” Crookedpaw sat hunched, watching his Clanmates share tongues in the late-afternoon light.

Softwing was stripping flesh from a bony trout. She called to Brambleberry, who was padding from her den. “Do you want some?”

Fresh herb scent wafted around the medicine cat as she crossed the clearing. “Thanks.” She settled beside Softwing. “Let me wash this water-mint off my paws first.” She began nibbling at the green-tinged fur between her claws.

Crookedpaw scowled. Hailstar was lying beside Echomist, eyes half closed. Neither he nor Brambleberry had mentioned the omen again, but Crookedpaw guessed they were keeping an eye on him. He had to make them trust him. He had to prove he was loyal to RiverClan.

A dog barked in the distance. It was getting to be a familiar sound in the RiverClan camp. The dog lived on the farm beside the meadow where Twolegs came in greenleaf to live in little pelt dens, and it seemed to know that the cats were close by, almost within reach of its snapping jaws.

Crookedpaw’s whiskers twitched. “Are Willowpaw and Graypaw back from training?”

“Not yet.” Fallowtail padded to the entrance and peered through. “Do you think they’re okay?”

Shellheart, sitting beside his den, flipped over his carp. “They’re training by the beech copse.”

Oakheart sat up. “The dog won’t stray that far from its Twoleg nest.”

“Brightsky and Owlfur are with them.” Timberfur was sharing fresh-kill with Rippleclaw beneath the willow. “They’ll be fine.”

Crookedpaw scrambled to his paws. “Why don’t we chase the dog away?”

Hailstar sat up.

Crookedpaw padded across the clearing. “We could scare it.” He lashed his tail. “Shimmerpelt’s fast!” His mind was whirling. “So’s Softwing. They could lure it from Twolegplace into the marsh meadow. We’d be waiting for it. We’d give it a shock that it won’t forget in a hurry.”

The dirtplace tunnel rustled and Beetlenose padded out.

“Saving the whole Clan on your own?” he muttered as he passed Crookedpaw.

“Yeah,” Crookedpaw shot back. “What’ve you been doing?” He ignored Beetlenose’s growl. “I think it could work.”

“So do I.” Whitefang jumped to his paws.

Hailstar pushed away his fish and sat up. “Let’s do it now.”

“Now?” Cedarpelt’s pelt fluffed up.

“Now.” The RiverClan leader tasted the air. “Before dark.” He turned to Shimmerpelt. “Are you quick enough to lure the dog toward the attack line without being caught?”

Shimmerpelt nodded. Softwing sprang to her paws. “I am, too.”

“Good.” Hailstar glanced around his Clan. “I’ll head the attack patrol. Shellheart, you shadow Shimmerpelt and Softwing.”

Shellheart showed his teeth. “If the dog gets within a whisker of them, I’ll claw its eyes out.”

Hailstar nodded. “Cedarpelt, Whitefang, Rippleclaw, Beetlenose, Oakheart, Ottersplash, Rainflower, and Piketooth, you’ll join Crookedpaw in my patrol.”

Fallowtail stood up. “I want to come, too.”

“Fine.” Hailstar swished his tail as his Clanmates gathered by the entrance; then, with a nod, he pelted out of camp.

Crookedpaw’s heart was racing as they pounded along the track through the reeds. Hailstar led them up the slope and around the camp, doubling back toward the marsh meadow. They skirted the beech copse, which topped a hillock arching from the meadow like a pike’s spine. Brightsky was calling instructions to Graypaw, and Crookedpaw could just see Willowpaw’s ears as she peered over the top of the slope.

“Where are you going?” Her call faded behind them as they crossed the meadow, weaving between the clumps of marsh grass and sedge, their paws splashing over the boggy ground.

Crookedpaw felt Oakheart’s pelt brush his. “Nice plan, Crookedpaw,” he puffed, matching Crookedpaw paw step for paw step as they raced after Hailstar.

“I just hope it works.” Crookedpaw saw Hailstar pull up and swerved to a halt behind him. A Twoleg fence, separating two meadows, was a few tail-lengths away. Beyond it the dog’s fur flashed against the bright green grass as it darted from side to side, barking excitedly.

Hailstar weaved between Shimmerpelt and Softwing. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

Softwing flicked her tail. “Of course!”

Shimmerpelt nodded.

Shellheart padded around them. “I’ll run alongside, keeping up as much I can,” he promised.

Hailstar turned to Crookedpaw. “Have you thought about where the attack party should be?”

Beetlenose flexed his claws. “Why are you letting an apprentice tell warriors what to do?”

“It was his plan.” Hailstar silenced the young tom with a growl.

And if it works, I won’t be an apprentice for long. Crookedpaw pointed to a thicket of young willow trees behind them. “We could climb those. The leaves will hide us.”

“Hide in trees?” Beetlenose narrowed his eyes. “Do you think we’re squirrels?”

“It won’t be for long,” Crookedpaw urged. “And willow’s soft enough to sink your claws in.”