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Millie pushed her way through the brambles. “I’ve come to help Briarlight with her exercises…” Her mew trailed away as she recognized sickness in her kit. “What’s wrong with her?” Her voice was tense.

“Just a slight fever.” Jayfeather deliberately kept his tone light. “A bit of exercise might help her fight it off.”

“Shouldn’t she rest?” Millie questioned.

Briarlight clawed at her nest. “I’ve been resting all night!” she mewed. A cough gripped her but she swallowed against it.

Jayfeather heard Millie’s paws hesitate for a moment before padding briskly across the den. “Come on, then.”

Briarlight’s breath rasped as she began to go through her strengthening exercises with her mother. Suddenly she stopped, and Jayfeather heard her flop down in her nest. “This is too much work!”

Jayfeather tensed. Briarlight had never given up before. “Come on,” he urged. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“It’s all too much work,” Briarlight wailed. “Exercises morning and night. Dragging myself to the fresh-kill pile as if it were a mountain away. I can’t even breathe or lie comfortably, let alone hunt or play with my littermates!”

Fear was flashing from Millie’s pelt. “But think how much you have to be grateful for,” she meowed as brightly as she could. “You can still share tongues with your littermates and enjoy a tasty mouse. And the whole Clan admires you.” Jayfeather could sense the she-cat desperately searching for more reasons for Briarlight to be happy and grateful.

He padded forward and touched Millie’s shoulder with his muzzle. “Why don’t you see if you can catch her something really tasty?” he suggested. “I’ll mix up some fresh herbs.” He turned to Briarlight. “You’ve been working hard. A day’s rest will do you good.”

As Millie left the den, Jayfeather began to rub Briarlight’s chest, hoping to stimulate her breathing.

“Your mother would gladly suffer your injuries for you,” he murmured.

“That’s dumb,” Briarlight rasped. “Why would any cat want to be like this?”

“It’s just how mothers think.” His thoughts flashed to Leafpool. Would she have taken his blindness to spare him?

“Careful!” Briarlight’s mew brought him back. “I smoothed that fur down earlier and now you’re rubbing it the wrong way.”

“Sorry.” Jayfeather felt a glimmer of relief at hearing her old spark.

“Washing myself is about all I can do these days,” she went on. “You don’t have to mess it up.”

Jayfeather purred and smoothed her fur back down with his tongue.

The brambles rustled.

“Jayfeather?”

Dustpelt was standing in the entrance. “Firestar’s called a meeting of the senior warriors,” he meowed. “He wants you there too.”

Jayfeather hesitated. Who was going to watch Briarlight?

“I’ll be okay.” The young warrior guessed what he was thinking. “In fact, I’ll enjoy the peace.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.”

He pushed his way out of the den and sniffed carefully. Firestar was sitting in the crook of a beech bough, out of hearing of the rest of the Clan. Graystripe, Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight, Dustpelt, Thornclaw, Sandstorm, Brightheart, and Cloudtail sat below him, flavoring the air with their anticipation. Jayfeather took his place beside them.

“Thank you for joining us.” Firestar’s tail brushed the beech bark. The leader was agitated. “Ivypaw has had a dream.”

“What’s that got to do with us?” Dustpelt called.

Firestar’s claws scraped the bark. “I think it’s a sign from StarClan.”

“Ivypaw?” Thornclaw’s mew was scornful.

“Why not?” Brightheart prickled in defense of her kin.

“Our daughter’s kit wouldn’t lie,” Cloudtail growled.

Thornclaw’s pelt bristled. “I’m not saying she’d lie,” he retorted. “I just want to know the reason Firestar’s taken it so seriously.”

Graystripe’s paws shifted. “She seemed to know more than she should.”

Thornclaw huffed. “Apprentices always know more than they should!”

“This was different.” Brambleclaw’s tail swept the earth.

Jayfeather listened in silence. Ivypaw? Dreaming? What was StarClan doing sending her messages? He pricked his ears.

“Okay, okay.” Dustpelt snorted impatiently. “Let’s say this dream was a message from StarClan. What was it?”

“She dreamed that ShadowClan had invaded,” Firestar told them. “That the stream along the clearing where Twolegs come in greenleaf was running with ThunderClan blood.”

Jayfeather felt anxiety sweep through the warriors.

“Do we know what it means?” Thornclaw demanded.

“It’s pretty easy to guess,” Dustpelt scoffed. “ShadowClan wants to push the advantage they got from being given the clearing in the first place. They want more of our territory.”

Anger flashed from Firestar, but he kept his voice level as he answered the dusky warrior. “The decisions I make may not always be right, but they are based on reason and experience.”

“No cat doubts your reason,” Dustpelt conceded. “But any cat with any experience must know that ShadowClan will always take advantage wherever they can.”

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  Мир накрылся ядерным взрывом, и я вместе с ним. По идее я должен был погибнуть, но вдруг очнулся… Где? Темно перед глазами! Не видно ничего. Оп – видно! Я в собственном теле. Мне снова четырнадцать, на дворе начало девяностых. В холодильнике – маргарин «рама» и суп из сизых макарон, в телевизоре – «Санта-Барбара», сестра собирается ступить на скользкую дорожку, мать выгнали с работы за свой счет, а отец, который теперь младше меня-настоящего на восемь лет, завел другую семью. Казалось бы, тебе известны ключевые повороты истории – действуй! Развивайся! Ага, как бы не так! Попробуй что-то сделать, когда даже паспорта нет и никто не воспринимает тебя всерьез! А еще выяснилось, что в меняющейся реальности образуются пустоты, которые заполняются совсем не так, как мне хочется.

Денис Ратманов

Фантастика / Фантастика для детей / Самиздат, сетевая литература / Альтернативная история / Попаданцы