Dark River полностью

“Only when I get treated like I’m different,” Jaypaw replied. “I don’t feel any different, so it’s really annoying when anyone makes a fuss about my blindness. It’s like they feel sorry for me when there’s nothing to feel sorry about.”

He flicked the ball into the air, then swiped it toward Cinderpaw. Her nest rustled under her.

“What in StarClan?” Leafpool’s furious mew sounded at the entrance. She darted across the den and whisked the moss ball into the pool, then rounded on Jaypaw. “What are you doing, making her stretch up like that?”

“It was my idea!” Cinderpaw mewed at once.

Leafpool ignored her. “You should have known better!”

Jaypaw bristled. “I told her not to move from her nest.”

“That’s not good enough! Her leg must heal properly!” Leafpool’s mew dropped to a whisper. “She must train as a warrior this time.”

“Why must she?” Anger exploded in Jaypaw’s chest. “Why would it be such a disaster if she had to take a different path?

I had to!”

Leafpool froze for a moment, then slowly replied, “You are blind.”

Jaypaw’s rage fell away. Did Leafpool think he was a lost cause? Did she only fight to save the cats who could be saved?

He turned away from her, too wretched to say anything.

Leafpool hurried away to Cinderpaw’s nest and began fussing with her cobweb binding.

Jaypaw padded out of the den. He could hear the Clan, busy in the clearing. Graystripe and Millie chatted to each other as they wove the roof of the new den into place. Lionpaw was chasing Foxkit and Icekit around the nursery. Ferncloud was sharing tongues with Dustpelt below Highledge.

I’m more than just a blind medicine cat! Jaypaw flexed his claws.

I’ll show them!

The brambles swished behind him.

“We need to fetch herbs.” Leafpool’s mew was matter-of-fact, as though nothing had passed between them. He searched her mind for some lingering anger or guilt, but her thoughts seemed to be carefully shielded. “The marigolds should be flowering by the lakeshore,” she went on as she led him out of camp.

Jaypaw didn’t speak. He sulked in silence as they trekked up the slope and over the ridge. As they emerged from the trees, a chilly wind cut through his fur. It smelled of rain.

Leafpool headed down the grassy slope to the shore. “I can see some.” She veered into the wind.

Jaypaw narrowed his eyes as it blasted his face. This was a pointless journey. “You know we’ve already got a pile of marigold in the den, don’t you?”

Leafpool slowed her pace to match his. “If there is to be a battle, we must be prepared,” she told him. “Our first duty is to heal the Clan.” Jaypaw felt her willing him to speak. “Don’t you think?” She sounded anxious.

Grudgingly, he let himself be drawn into conversation.

“Yes,” he conceded. “But what about sharing with StarClan?

That’s part of our duty too. Why didn’t they warn us a battle was coming?”

“StarClan doesn’t always tell us everything that’s going to happen.”

“Do we just have to wait until we’re told?” Jaypaw bristled with frustration. “We can walk among them in our dreams.

Surely we can find out for ourselves?”

“Are you questioning the wisdom of StarClan?”

Jaypaw bit back his reply—that he couldn’t figure out why being dead made StarClan so wise.

“There’s more to being a medicine cat than sharing with StarClan,” Leafpool went on. “You still don’t know every herb, for example.” She halted and sniffed loudly. “What’s this one?”

Jaypaw tasted the air. A sharp tang bathed his tongue. He reached down and touched small soft leaves. Tight flower buds bounced against his nose.

“Do you recognize that?” Leafpool prompted.

“Feverfew,” Jaypaw mewed. “Good for aches, especially headaches.” He turned away, adding, “But it’s no good to us now because the flower won’t be out for another moon.”

Why was she treating him like a mouse-brained idiot? How many times did he have to prove himself?

Another scent caught his attention. Something tastier than feverfew. He dropped into a hunting crouch. The grass ahead was shivering and he could hear a tiny snuffling. The image of a vole formed in his mind; he could see it as clearly as if he were dreaming. It was trembling.

Quick as a flash, Jaypaw shot forward, diving through the grass, paws outstretched. The vole darted sideways, but Jaypaw veered and cut off its escape route. It careered into his paws and he hooked it easily, killing it with a sharp nip. Padding back to Leafpool, he dangled his catch under her nose.

“Very good,” she meowed.

He flung it at her paws, the morning’s frustrations suddenly swamping him. “Now do you believe that I don’t need eyes to see?”

He waited for anger to flash from her, for her sharp rebuke to sting his ears. Instead, he felt her tail sweep his flank, gentle as a breeze. “Oh, Jaypaw,” she sighed. “I have always believed in you.”