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Dovepaw sprang up into a crouch, ready to tackle this strange cat who had managed to sneak into ThunderClan’s camp. “Who are you? What do you want?” she growled, forcing her voice to stay steady.

“You,” the strange cat replied.

Struggling not to panic, Dovepaw gazed around the apprentices’ den. Moonlight filtering through the ferns that covered the entrance showed her Ivypaw and the rest of her denmates curled up and sound asleep.

“Ivypaw!” Dovepaw gave her sister a hard shove. “Wake up! Help!”

Ivypaw didn’t move. Dovepaw looked up at the intruder, fear giving way to anger. “What have you done to her?”

“Nothing,” the she-cat replied, annoyance sparking in her amber eyes. “Now do as you’re told and follow me.”

Dovepaw wanted to ask why she should do anything the she-cat told her, but something compelled her to rise to her paws and scramble out of the apprentices’ den. The clearing lay silent in a wash of moonlight, the shadows lying black against the silver walls. Toadstep, on guard at the entrance to the thorn tunnel, was as still as a cat made of stone, and didn’t twitch a whisker as the mysterious she-cat led Dovepaw out into the forest.

This is weird, Dovepaw thought. What’s happening to me? Even the forest didn’t look familiar; the sparse, shriveled undergrowth was full and lush, and the grass underneath her paws felt cool and fresh.

“Where are we going?” she called, stumbling over a fallen branch that lay in the shadow of a bramble thicket. “I shouldn’t be sneaking out at night like this. I’ll get into trouble…”

“Stop complaining,” the gray she-cat snapped. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

She led Dovepaw through the trees; gradually the undergrowth thinned out and more moonlight broke through. A fresh breeze began to blow, bringing with it the scent of water. Dovepaw paused for a heartbeat to let it ruffle her fur, rejoicing in its coolness after so many days of unrelenting heat.

“Come on.” The she-cat had halted beneath a tree a few fox-lengths ahead. “Come and look at this.”

Dovepaw bounded over to her side and stared in astonishment. The trees gave way to a strip of rough grass; beyond it water stretched out almost as far as she could see, its ridged surface silvered by the moonlight. Gentle lapping filled her ears, steady as a queen licking a kit in the nursery.

“This—this is the lake!” she stammered. “But it’s full! I’ve never seen so much water. Am I dreaming?”

“At last!” the she-cat commented sarcastically. “Are they filling the apprentices’ heads with thistledown these days? Of course you’re dreaming.”

For the first time Dovepaw noticed the faint shimmer of starlight around the she-cat’s paws. “Are you from StarClan?” she whispered.

“I am,” the she-cat replied. “And once I was your Clanmate.”

“Then can’t you do something to help ThunderClan?” Dovepaw asked; fear and excitement made her voice quiver. “We’re having such a hard time.”

“Hard times come to every Clan in every season,” the old gray cat replied. “The warrior code doesn’t offer the promise of an easy life. There will be much debate and fighting—”

“Fighting?” Dovepaw interrupted, horrified, then slapped her tail across her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Blood is spilled in every generation,” the she-cat went on. Her amber gaze softened, and Dovepaw became aware of an intense kindliness behind the rough exterior. “Yet there is always hope, just as the sun always rises.”

Her figure began to fade; Dovepaw could see the silver waters of the lake through her gray fur.

“Don’t go!” she begged.

The gray she-cat faded even more, until she was barely a wisp of smoke, and then entirely gone. As the last traces of her faded, Dovepaw thought that she heard her voice again, whispering gently into her ear.

After the sharp-eyed jay and the roaring lion, peace will come on dove’s gentle wing.

Dovepaw woke with a start, her heart pounding, and sprang to her paws in one swift movement. I’m here in my den! So it was a dream… Dawn light was filtering through the ferns at the entrance, and she could hear cats calling to one another in the clearing as they prepared for the new day.

Beside her, Ivypaw twitched an ear and blinked open her eyes. “What’s the matter?” she muttered, her voice blurred with sleep. “Why are you jumping around like that?”

Bumblepaw’s meow came from just behind Dovepaw, edged with annoyance. “Do you realize you just kicked moss all over me?”

“Sorry!” Dovepaw gasped. She had been sleeping in the apprentices’ den for almost a moon, but she still wasn’t used to how crowded it was in there.

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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