Читаем Into The Wild полностью

Bluestar strode up to the returning patrol. She glanced fondly at Frostfur and her kits and then turned her eyes to Whitestorm. “Are they all right?” she asked.

“They’re fine,” meowed Whitestorm.

“Well done, Whitestorm. ThunderClan honors you.”

Whitestorm bent his head to accept her praise, and added, “But it was thanks to this apprentice that we found them.”

Firepaw lifted his head and tail proudly, about to speak, but Tigerclaw’s accusing snarl sounded from across the clearing.

“Why did you bring back the traitor?” The dark warrior stalked up to the patrol and stood beside his leader.

“She is no traitor,” Firepaw insisted. He looked around the camp. The rest of the cats had quickly gathered in the clearing to see the kits and congratulate the hunting party. Some of them had spotted Yellowfang and were eyeing her with looks of pure hatred.

“She killed Spottedleaf,” spat Longtail.

“Look between Spottedleaf’s claws,” Graypaw suggested. “You will find the brown fur of Clawface, not Yellowfang’s gray fur!”

Bluestar nodded at Mousefur, who darted away from the crowd, toward the spot where Spottedleaf’s body lay, waiting for its dawn burial. The Clan waited in tense silence till she returned.

“Graypaw is right,” Mousefur panted, rushing back to the clearing. “Spottedleaf was not attacked by a gray cat.”

A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd.

“But that doesn’t mean she didn’t help to take the kits!” hissed Tigerclaw.

“Without Yellowfang we never would have recovered the kits!” Firepaw spat, his exhaustion making him impatient. “She knew that a ShadowClan warrior had taken them. She was hunting for them when I found her. She risked her life returning to the ShadowClan camp. It was Yellowfang who thought up the battle plan that got us into the ShadowClan camp and gave us a chance to defeat Brokenstar!”

The cats listened to Firepaw’s words, astonished.

“He’s right,” Whitestorm meowed. “Yellowfang is a friend.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” murmured Bluestar, catching Firepaw’s eye.

Frostfur’s anxious meow sounded from the crowd. “Is Brokenstar dead?” she asked.

“No, he escaped,” Whitestorm told her. “But he will never lead ShadowClan again.”

Frostfur sighed in relief and returned to nuzzling her kits.

Whitestorm looked at Bluestar. “I promised ShadowClan we would leave them in peace until next fullmoon,” he explained. “Brokenstar’s leadership has left their Clan in chaos.”

Bluestar nodded. “That was a wise and generous offer,” she meowed approvingly. The ThunderClan leader walked past Whitestorm and the rest of the patrol and approached Yellowfang. Yellowfang lowered her eyes as Bluestar touched the gray cat’s rough coat with her nose.

“Yellowfang, I wish you to replace Spottedleaf as medicine cat to ThunderClan,” Bluestar meowed. “I’m sure you’ll find all her supplies as she left them.”

The other cats began to murmur to each other, tails flicking with excitement. Yellowfang looked around at them anxiously and said nothing.

Frostfur glanced at the other queens before she met Yellowfang’s gaze and slowly nodded her approval.

Yellowfang bent her head respectfully to the white cat before addressing her new leader. “Thank you, Bluestar. ShadowClan is not the Clan I once knew. ThunderClan is my Clan now.”

Firepaw felt a surge of satisfaction that the old she-cat he had come to love would be his Clan’s medicine cat from now on. Then his tail dropped as he realized that he would never again find Spottedleaf in her clearing, the sunlight gleaming on her soft fur, her amber eyes shining in welcome.

“Where’s Ravenpaw?” meowed Bluestar suddenly, jolting Firepaw out of his bittersweet remembrances.

“Yes,” Tigerclaw chimed in, “where is my apprentice? Strange that he should disappear along with Brokenstar.” He looked meaningfully around the Clan.

“If you think he might have been helping Brokenstar,” Firepaw meowed boldly, “then you are wrong!”

Tigerclaw stiffened, a menacing gleam in his yellow eyes.

“Ravenpaw is dead,” Firepaw went on, dropping his head as if weighed down with grief. “We found his body in ShadowClan territory. From the scents around him, he must have been slain by a ShadowClan patrol.” He looked at Bluestar. “I will tell you everything later,” he promised.

Yellowfang shot Firepaw a questioning look. Firepaw returned her gaze with a silent plea for her to hold her tongue. She twitched her ears briefly in understanding and looked away.

“I never said that Ravenpaw was a traitor,” hissed Tigerclaw. He paused and allowed an expression of sorrow to cloud his eyes before he turned to address the rest of the Clan. “Ravenpaw might have made a fine warrior. His death has come too soon, and his loss will be felt by many of us for a long time.”

Empty words! thought Firepaw bitterly. What would Tigerclaw say if he knew that Ravenpaw was safe, far beyond the forest, catching rats with Barley?