Squirrelflight's Hope полностью

Moonlight’s den rustled. “It’s a tall purple flower.” The gray she-cat squeezed out. She padded heavily across the grass, her belly so wide that she looked like a badger. Squirrelflight saw Leafpool frown. Was something wrong? She stiffened as Moonlight went on. “It’s easy to spot. The leaves die back before the flower opens. It’s quite strange, poking up from the forest floor without leaves. Like an owl without feathers.”

Flurry padded from behind the dogwood, followed by Snow, sliding from between the bushes. They blinked at the ThunderClan patrol.

Snow narrowed her eyes. “You’re back soon.”

Blossomfall’s pelt prickled. “We need to know when you plan to leave.”

“Once the kits are ready.” Moonlight looked at her belly. “They will come soon. We’ll leave once they’ve opened their eyes.”

Leafpool narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been expecting kits for a long time.”

Moonlight looked back at her wearily. “It feels like moons since I first felt them move.”

Squirrelflight shifted her paws. “Sparkpelt found out she was expecting kits soon after we met you. She’s had them now.” Surely you should have had yours. But Sparkpelt’s kits had come early.

Moonlight purred. “Congratulations. Are they well?”

Squirrelflight dropped her gaze. “The youngest died. A tom.”

Moonlight’s gaze darkened. “I’m sorry to hear that. Such a loss is never easy.” She glanced at Snow. “We could perform a small ceremony for him.”

Blossomfall bristled. “We’ve sat vigil,” she mewed sharply. “That’s ceremony enough.”

Leafpool’s ears pricked. “I’d be interested to see the Sisters’ ceremony.”

Blossomfall huffed. “Don’t expect me to join in.”

“We expect nothing of you but to witness it,” Moonlight told her. “A spirit so young needs guiding. He won’t understand what he’s lost and who waits for him beyond death. We must help him find a place in the hearts of the living and the dead so that he can know both.”

She beckoned Snow, Furze, and Creek nearer with a flick of her tail. Then she nodded to Tempest. “Do we have coltsfoot?”

“I’ll fetch some.” Tempest slipped quickly into one of the dens and returned holding a small bunch of yellow flowers between her jaws. She carried them across the clearing and dropped them at Moonlight’s paws.

As Squirrelflight leaned closer, curiosity prickling in her pelt, Cherryfall pricked her ears uneasily. “Will StarClan approve?”

Leafpool looked at her. “Why shouldn’t they? The Sisters are honoring the dead.” She turned her gaze back to Moonlight as the gray she-cat began to claw away a small patch of grass. Then she dug a small hole and dropped the flowers into it. Covering them up, she glanced at her campmates. They formed a circle around the hole, closed their eyes, and lifted their muzzles.

Squirrelflight held her breath as, silently, the Sisters held their faces to the sky. Then Moonlight murmured, “Safe journey, kit.” Furze, Tempest, Snow, and Flurry echoed her mew. “Safe journey, kit.” Together they repeated the words, chanting them softly, then raising their voices until their mews became wails and their wails broke into a fierce yowling. Their cry rang around the small valley, splitting the air.

Squirrelflight stared, her heart pounding. What in StarClan are they doing?

Blossomfall moved closer to Cherryfall. “What a lot of nonsense,” she growled.

“Hush!” Leafpool flicked her tail impatiently at the tortoiseshell warrior. Her gaze was fixed on the Sisters as they fell suddenly silent. They stood unmoving for a few moments, then broke sharply from their circle, as though waking from a dream.

Squirrelflight searched Moonlight’s gaze. The Sisters had claimed to see the dead. Had they seen Sparkpelt’s kit?

Moonlight blinked softly. “We have encouraged your daughter’s kit to walk with ThunderClan, both the living and the dead. His spirit can be nurtured and loved there.”

“You saw him?”

Tempest nodded. “He had orange-and-black fur.”

Squirrelflight felt a chill ripple through her pelt. She hadn’t described the dead kit. Moonlight really must have seen him.

Snow frowned, looking puzzled. “A black tom was with him.” She blinked at Squirrelflight. “Do you know who that was?”

“Larksong.” Blossomfall shifted uneasily beside Squirrelflight.

“The kit’s father,” Squirrelflight told Moonlight. “He died at the same time.”

Moonlight nodded. “I thought they were kin. He seemed very protective of the young spirit in his care.”

Leafpool’s pelt prickled. “Why did you yowl? Is it part of the ceremony?”

“It wards off dark spirits that might wish to harm the dead,” Moonlight told her. “It’s our warning that those we remember are protected for as long as we remember them.”