Bravelands 4 by Erin Hunter

Author:Erin Hunter [Hunter, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

“Oh, stars, where is he now?” Exasperated, Thorn stared around the grassland, then parted the scrubby bushes with his paws and peered through them. “Spider! Spider! Where are you?”

There was nothing in the undergrowth but a few scattered scorpion husks and discarded tails. The eccentric baboon was nowhere in sight, and no reply came to Thorn’s calls. Thorn tutted and growled, then dusted his paws together and turned away. Maybe the oddball baboon had wandered off somewhere else. Maybe he was having incomprehensible chats with egrets and beetles and snakes. Maybe he’d find a meerkat to befriend, and maybe this time he wouldn’t end up accused of its murder. Thorn had enough worries without hunting Spider across Bravelands; Spider would be fine. He bounded back to Tall Trees.

All the same, lingering guilt hung over him. He was so distracted, he almost yelped when Claw Deeproot sauntered out of the bushes right in front of him. Claw’s snaggletoothed face brightened, and he grinned in greeting.

Thorn skidded to a halt, slipping on moss. “Hello, Claw. Are you looking for me?”

“Yes! I am! I’ve got something for you, Thorn.” Claw Deeproot smiled and gave a rather obsequious little nod as he handed Thorn a fat fig. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Thanks, Claw.” Absently Thorn took it from him, his claws digging into its soft flesh. In fact he wasn’t particularly hungry, but it was a kind gesture, he thought. He brought the fig to his jaws and sank in his fangs.

Stench and rot flooded his mouth, and he gagged, spitting furiously. Claw jumped back, eyes wide.

Thorn stared at the bitten fig. It was rotten, the flesh blackening with mold, and a maggot writhed between the seeds. “Claw! What is this?”

Claw put his paws to his mouth; Thorn had the sneaking suspicion he was hiding a grin. “I—I don’t know, Thorn! Honestly, I had no idea.”

“Don’t worry.” Thorn gritted his fangs and rubbed the flesh inside his lip. “It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

Claw scurried away. As Thorn spat again and snatched a handful of leaves from the nearest bush to try to take the taste away, he thought he heard a muffled chuckling.

“Traitor,” he heard as the bushes rustled, and at least two sets of paws scampered away.

He clenched his jaws, anger kindling in his gut. So the rotten fig hadn’t been an accident.

On the surface, at least, everything had seemed normal for the last few days; Berry and Mud were as friendly to him as ever, of course, and most of the troop chatted and laughed and complained with him as they always had. Thorn knew, though, that something wasn’t right. The mutters, the swiftly silenced conversations. The averted eyes. The baboons who turned quickly away when he looked at them.

They know I’m not telling the truth. A shiver of guilt rippled across his hide.

Besides, traitor wasn’t the only word he’d caught mumbled as he passed. He’d heard coward, too.

How could they think that of him, after all that had happened with Stinger and the Great Herd? Easily, he thought miserably.

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