Читаем Dovewing’s Silence полностью

Dustpelt leaned forward and said something Dovewing couldn’t hear. She curled her lip in anger. My ears! She felt a physical pain inside her head. What is wrong with me? She had to speak with Lionblaze and Jayfeather, find out if they were losing their powers too. She spotted Lionblaze walking toward her and opened her mouth to ask if she could speak with him alone. Then Cinderheart bounded across the clearing.

“Lionblaze! I told you to rest today! You can’t go out on patrol until your claw heals.”

Dovewing realized that Lionblaze was limping, favoring the paw that had been injured while digging. “It’s fine,” he growled. “Stop bugging me about it.”

Cinderheart narrowed her eyes. “Don’t take it out on me,” she warned, flicking her tail. “You should see Jayfeather if it’s infected.”

“I don’t have time now,” Lionblaze grunted. “We have to hunt while the weather holds.” He looked up at the sky, which was bulging with dark gray clouds, so low they almost touched the tops of the trees.

“I’ll come with you,” Dovewing offered. Perhaps this would give them a chance to talk.

“Well, you’re not going without me,” Cinderheart meowed. “Come on, let’s tell Squirrelflight what we’re doing.”

She bounded across the clearing to where the deputy was standing. Lionblaze looked at Dovewing. “Are you okay?”

“No, I…”

Dovewing broke off as Ivypool emerged from the warriors’ den. “Hey! Are you going on patrol? Can I come?” She trotted over, her fur fluffed out. “Anything to warm up! This wind is bitter.”

“Sure,” mewed Lionblaze. Cinderheart returned and they headed out of the camp, Lionblaze in the lead. Dovewing watched him stumble over a loose bramble and wince. She’d never seen him with a lasting injury like this.

They reached a clump of bracken above the hollow and separated to track prey. Dovewing picked up the faint scent of a mouse and crept along the trail, nose to the ground, letting the ferns brush over her spine. She had rounded an ash tree and was just casting around for fresh odor when there was a flurry of paws behind her and Ivypool lunged past, landing on a squirrel.

The gray-and-white she-cat delivered a killing bite and sat up, wiping blood from her whiskers.

“Good catch!” Dovewing mewed.

Ivypool put her head on one side. “I can’t believe you didn’t hear the squirrel coming down the tree,” she purred. “It almost landed on your head! Have you got moss in your ears?”

Dovewing felt hot with embarrassment. “I… I was following a mouse trail.”

Her sister stood up and started scraping leaf mulch over her prey. “Better go and catch it then!” she meowed, but there was a note of tension in her voice that Dovewing didn’t miss. Has Ivypool realized that I’m losing my powers?

She marched into the bracken, feeling a sense of relief as the fronds closed up behind her. She soon picked up the scent of mouse again and caught the little creature as it nibbled on a seed pod. “Thank you, StarClan, for bringing food to us,” she murmured over the tiny brown body.

She hunted around for another trace of prey but hadn’t found anything by the time Lionblaze called them back to the path. A pigeon lay at his paws and Cinderheart stood beside him with a pair of baby voles in her mouth. Dovewing felt embarrassed by her puny contribution, especially when Ivypool puffed her way out of the bracken, dragging the squirrel.

Lionblaze nodded approvingly. “If the weather’s turning colder, we need all the fresh-kill we can get,” he meowed. “Good work, everyone.”

They headed back to the camp. Lionblaze fell behind even though the muscles on his shoulders were tense with the effort of not limping. Dovewing slowed to keep level with him. When Cinderheart and Ivypool had vanished around a corner, she put down her mouse and turned to face the golden tabby.

“Lionblaze, I need to talk to you.”

Reluctantly, he put down his pigeon and waited.

Dovewing took a deep breath. “Do you think we’re losing our powers?” Ignoring the flash of anger in his eyes, she kept going. “I can’t hear or see like I used to. You’ve been injured by a tree root, for StarClan’s sake! And Jayfeather seems really scared of something. Could he be losing the power to walk in other cats’ dreams?”

Lionblaze drew one massive paw over the pale-feathered breast of the dead pigeon. “The Great Battle took a lot out of all of us,” he meowed. “None of us know how long it will take to recover.”

“But this isn’t a battle wound!” Dovewing protested. “This is something else, something that has changed inside me! I can’t describe it exactly, but I know I’m different.”

Lionblaze kept his gaze fixed on the bird at his feet. “Talk to Jayfeather if you’re worried. He knows more about this than we do. We’re part of a prophecy, remember? I don’t see how that could change.”