Эрин Хантер - Tigerheart’s Shadow

“Days.”

“You must be tired.”

Tigerheart lifted his chin, ignoring the weariness dragging at his bones. “Not too tired to keep traveling if I have to. I need to find Dovewing.” Perhaps if he kept pressing, she’d tell him if Dovewing had been here.

Fierce didn’t reply, but stared at him in silence.

Tigerheart stared back, desperately trying to read her green gaze. Was she hiding something? He saw nothing but the reflection of harsh Twoleg lights, which were beginning to glimmer behind him.

Cobweb shifted restlessly as the twilight deepened. At last, Tigerheart saw movement in the shadows. Ant was hurrying between the stone slabs. He stopped beside Fierce and whispered in her ear.

Tigerheart held his breath. Was Dovewing here?

“She says she’ll see you,” Fierce meowed curtly. “Follow me.”

Joy burst in Tigerheart’s chest. “She’s here?” He could hardly believe it.

Fierce turned away and padded toward the gathering place. Tigerheart’s paws trembled with excitement as he followed. He’d found her! Dovewing was here! Ant and Cobweb fell in behind him as he wove between the slabs. Fierce led him to an opening in the ground where stone steps led down to a stretch of clear wall. The stones beside the clear wall had been dislodged so that a gap opened beside it. Fierce slid through it and Tigerheart followed. He emerged onto a ledge that looked down into a large square cave. He scanned it nervously. “Do Twolegs come here?”

“Not anymore.” Fierce paused on the ledge.

Smooth walls lined the cavern. Twolegs must have carved it out. It was lit by stretches of transparent stone set high in the walls, which let evening light filter through. Twoleg clutter sat in piles against the walls here and there. He couldn’t believe that Dovewing, a warrior, would ever have chosen to make a home here. How convinced was she that her dreams were a bad omen for our kits? he wondered.

He saw a cat move among the shadows. Another crossed the wide, shiny floor.

“Where’s Dovewing?” He pushed past Fierce.

“Wait.” She nudged him out of the way and hopped down onto a wooden ledge below and then onto the floor.

He stared at her as Cobweb and Ant brushed past him and followed her down.

I can’t wait any longer! “Dovewing!” His mew echoed through the shadowy space.

“Hush!” Fierce shot him a warning look. “There are sick cats here. They don’t need you making a racket.” She beckoned him with a sharp flick of her tail, and he jumped down onto the wooden ledge she’d used. It wobbled beneath his paws, and he dropped quickly to the floor, which felt cool and smooth, tainted by a sharp Twoleg tang. As he followed Fierce, the floor felt tacky, and it peeled stickily away from his pads with each step.

Cobweb and Ant flanked him, moving noiselessly over the floor.

Tigerheart smelled sickness as they passed a nest made of furless pelts. A one-eyed tabby leaned into it and lapped the dull fur of a stinking she-cat who lay there limply. Another cat carried a wad of something soft toward a hollow stick that jutted from the wall and dripped water onto the floor. She placed the wad beneath the drip and stood back while it soaked up the moisture. Fierce followed his gaze. “She’s collecting water for cats too sick to walk to the drip-pipe.”

“Is that where you drink?” Tigerheart stared at the stinking patch of damp spreading around it.

“Cats who aren’t sick drink outside. The drip-pipe provides water for the rest,” Fierce explained matter-of-factly.

Another nest caught Tigerheart’s gaze, where a cat lapped the paw of another. It was hard to see in the shadows, but he smelled blood and herbs. “Is that a medicine cat?”

“A what?” Fierce looked at him.

“A cat who takes care of sick cats.”

Cobweb followed his gaze. “That’s Bracken. He’s treating Rascal’s rat bite.”

“We all take care of sick cats here,” Ant explained.

Tigerheart noticed that old wounds scarred Ant’s cheek. Cobweb had half an ear missing, and Fierce leaned as she stood—one of her legs was shorter than the others. Were all the cats here wounded or sick? His belly tightened. Was that why Dovewing was with them? Was she sick? “Where is she?” he repeated anxiously.

“You mean Dovewing?” Fierce began walking again.

“Yes!” Anxiety pricked beneath Tigerheart’s fur as they passed a nest where two cats slept, curled together, their breathing rough.

“She’s here.” Fierce ducked beneath a wooden ledge that sat on wooden legs. A pile of furless pelts made a nest against the wall at the back.

Tigerheart tasted a familiar scent, faint among the jumble of odors. His heart leaped into his throat. “Dovewing?”

He saw her gray fur move among the strange pelts, and as his eyes adjusted to the shadow, he made out her face. She was staring at him, her eyes wide.

“Dovewing!” His heart overflowing with joy, he darted to her and pressed his cheek against hers.

She pulled away with a hiss. “You didn’t meet me!”

Flinching as though she’d raked claws across his muzzle, he backed away. Pain sliced his heart. “I’m sorry. I tried. I was on my way, but Scorchfur and Juniperclaw were going to leave and I had to stop them and then a badger attacked us. By the time I reached the glade, you were gone! I tried to follow, but there were too many monsters and my head hurt.” The words poured from him, garbled and confused. He hadn’t really thought about what he was going to say, and now the words seemed to tumble around each other, like play-fighting kits. Please understand! “I hit my head when we fought the badger, and I couldn’t cross the Thunderpath. And then I had a dream that told me I couldn’t leave ShadowClan. I wanted to. But ShadowClan might have disappeared if I’d come.”

Dovewing looked past him. Fierce, Cobweb, and Ant had withdrawn and were watching from beyond the ledge, their gazes protective but not prying. She nodded at them and they moved away. Then she turned to Tigerheart. “If your Clan needed you so much, what are you doing here?”

“I was wrong. I thought I was the sun, but I was the shadow…” He trailed away, realizing he must sound crazy.

Dovewing seemed unfazed. Her cold gaze didn’t waver. “So your Clan won’t disappear without you now?”

“No.” Tigerheart gazed at her, desperately hoping to find enough warmth in her gaze to cling to. “I hope not. I don’t know. I just had to find you. ShadowClan must look after itself.”

“So you only chose me when you thought your Clan didn’t need you anymore?”

Dovewing’s question silenced him. He’d chosen her because of Puddleshine’s dream. But what if he had been the sun? Would he have stayed forever and become Clan leader? “I chose you as soon as I knew that you needed me more than my Clan did.”

That was the truth.

But what if ShadowClan had needed me more?

He pushed the question away. Dovewing must believe that he would choose her over anything—even his Clan.

“I love you.” He stared at her desperately. “I want to take care of our kits. I couldn’t stay away.”

For the first time, grief shimmered in her eyes. “You tried to follow me?”

Tigerheart nodded. “I followed you, but the badger and the dream and—”

“You’re here now.” Dovewing heaved herself to her paws.

For the first time, Tigerheart saw how swollen her flanks had grown. He hurried to her and rubbed his muzzle lovingly along her jaw. “I’ve missed you so much. How did you make the journey alone? Did you follow the Silverpath?”

Dovewing sat down heavily. He could hear her panting, and suddenly he realized he could smell blood. He sniffed her. His whiskers brushed a wound on her shoulder, and the tang of blood and herbs filled his nose. “You’re hurt!” He blinked at her, his heart quickening. “Did it happen on the way? Did something attack you?”