The Silent Thaw полностью

“He wanted to be a warrior the moment he knew what one was,” Cinnamontail wailed. “He was always first to spot prey and first to chase it. He wanted to help make his Clan as strong and healthy as it could be. And in the end, it killed him.”

Dovewing padded from her den. When she saw Antfur’s body and heard Cinnamontail’s sob, she limped across the clearing. Pressing her cheek to Cinnamontail’s, she looked at Shadowsight. He stiffened. Could she see his guilt? It was searing his belly like fire. I should have made Tigerstar keep him in camp! He dropped his gaze. Would it have changed anything? Antfur had only been hurt in the first place because StarClan was trying to send Shadowsight a message. His death proved it. This couldn’t just be a run of bad luck. Shadowsight’s paws felt as heavy as stone. It was a message from StarClan. And he knew, with a sense of dread that made the ground seem to shift beneath his paws, that the injuries and deaths would keep happening until he stopped them. He glanced guilty toward Tigerstar’s den. No matter what his father had said, he couldn’t risk keeping the secret anymore. He had to warn the other medicine cats.

Chapter 10

Rootpaw hunched his shoulders miserably as he followed Dewspring down the steep trail toward camp, despair clinging to his fur like heavy rain. Another training session with his mentor, and another day where Rootpaw seemed to mess up everything.

Dewspring’s tail flicked crossly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you need to snap out of it. It’s like trying to train a kit. You’re always watching something else when you should be listening to me. How will you ever learn if you don’t focus? You should be ready for your assessment by now, but I don’t trust you not to wander off in the middle of it and forget what you’re doing.”

Pelt prickling with frustration, Rootpaw padded into camp after his mentor. At this rate, he was never going to pass his assessment and show Leafstar and Dewspring that he could be a good warrior. He felt a twinge of annoyance in his belly fur. His training would surely be going better if he didn’t have Bramblestar’s ghost on his tail all the time, pestering him to take a message to Squirrelflight.

How, exactly, am I supposed do that? There was no way ThunderClan’s deputy would believe the story Rootpaw had to tell her. Especially if she heard it from a SkyClan apprentice. He’d just cause more trouble for the Clans, and for what?

Dewspring stopped at the edge of the clearing, gazing at him so intently, Rootpaw couldn’t help staring down at the ground. He was keenly aware of his Clanmates relaxing in the midday sunshine. Needlepaw was chattering with Wrenpaw and Kitescratch. Tree was hooking mice from the fresh-kill pile and inspecting them carefully, as though looking for one he liked. Violetshine and Palesky watched Pigeonfoot, who was demonstrating how he’d caught a bat mid-flight yesterday evening. Every cat seemed happy except Rootpaw. He looked at Dewspring, wishing he could explain that there was a good reason he was messing up in training so much. But even if he told his mentor what it was, he felt sure it would sound like nothing but a desperate excuse. “I’ll try harder,” he mumbled.

His heart sank even deeper as he saw Leafstar look toward him.

Her eyes were dark as she exchanged glances with Dewspring. Has he warned her how badly I’m doing?

The SkyClan leader crossed the clearing and stopped beside them. “Again?” she mewed heavily, her gaze resting on Rootpaw.

He has told her. Rootpaw wished he could melt into the earth as Dewspring sighed.

“He’s still not concentrating,” the gray tom growled.

“Rootpaw.” Leafstar stared at him sternly. “I don’t mind if apprentices find their training challenging. I expect it to be challenging. Learning is hard. But Dewspring told me you had promise. I thought I’d be giving you your warrior name by now. You certainly have the ability, but you can’t be spending your training sessions mooning over some cat who doesn’t even live in our Clan. It’s a waste of your time—yours and your mentor’s.”

Rootpaw blinked at her. “I’m not mooning.”

“Really?” She sounded unconvinced. “I can’t think why else Dewspring would tell me you spend most of your training staring into the trees when you should be watching prey.”

Rootpaw tried not to see the disappointment in her eyes. It was bad enough that Dewspring was looking at him like he’d caught a beetle instead of a mouse.