Эрин Хантер - Tigerheart’s Shadow

Pouncekit bounced to Tigerheart’s side. “He’s guessing a plant name,” she explained. She pointed her muzzle to a large bush dotted with red hips.

“That’s sweetbriar,” Tigerheart told them. “But thorn-thistle was a good guess.”

Shadowkit puffed his chest out proudly. Lightkit wandered across the track and climbed the bank to where the shrub sprouted from among the browning bracken. She sniffed one of the red buds that weighted down a stem. “Can we eat these?” she asked.

“I don’t think so.” Dovewing hurried to her side. “Jayfeather might use them to make medicine, though.”

“Who’s Jayfeather?” Lightkit blinked at her.

Pouncekit lifted her tail.” Don’t you remember? Dovewing told us about him. He’s the blind healer cat.”

Spire’s gaze sharpened suddenly. “Healers!” he meowed. “I remember now. You said each Clan has healers like me.”

“Kind of,” Tigerheart told him. “Except medicine cats have been trained since they were ’paws.”

“Will we be ’paws when we get to the lake?” Pouncekit asked eagerly.

“Not straight away,” Tigerheart told her. “You have to be six moons old before you can become an apprentice.”

“But you said we’ve walked farther than any kits have ever walked.” Lightkit padded back down to the track and fell in beside her sister. “Doesn’t that mean we can start training sooner?”

Dovewing joined her. “No.” As she looked sternly at the kits, Spire suddenly stopped.

Tigerheart glanced back at the skinny tom. “Are you tired? We can stop soon and hunt. But we need to keep going a while longer.”

Spire’s eyes had misted once more. He was staring into the far distance, beyond the trees that lined the track to the softly rolling hills beyond.

“We need to leave the track.” His meow suddenly rose into a panicked wail. “Here! We must leave it here. This is where we must find the orange sun.”

Tigerheart stared at him warily. The crazy cat was staring away from the sun, which was dipping toward the horizon, a red fiery ball. There was no time for this. They needed to head home. But he didn’t want to argue with the healer. “It will be safer if we keep following the track.”

Spire bounded up the bank. “This way,” he mewed urgently. “The orange sun is this way. We have to find it. They need us.”

Unease prickled through Tigerheart’s pelt. What if this vision is important?

Cinnamon hurried to the healer’s side. “Come on, Spire. Let’s stay on the track. We don’t want to get lost.”

Blaze’s pelt lifted along his spine. “You have to believe him.” He looked pleadingly at the others. “When he’s like this, you have to believe him.”

“But he seems confused to me,” Dovewing meowed. “The orange sun’s over there.” She pointed to the sunset with her muzzle. “Who could possibly need us out here? We don’t know any cat.”

“And we’re needed at home.” There wasn’t time to chase more visions. And Cinnamon was right. What if they left the track and couldn’t find their way back? How would they ever find their way home?

Blaze squared his shoulders. “We have to listen to him.”

Ant padded forward. “We’re all tired and hungry,” he meowed. “Why don’t we find a place to spend the night? We can hunt and fill our bellies.” He glanced at Tigerheart, lowering his voice. “Spire’s always had crazy visions. In the morning he’ll have forgotten about it.”

Tigerheart’s head felt like it was filled with rushing water. He didn’t believe that Spire was crazy, but he was beginning to wonder if, without proper medicine-cat training, the skinny black tom really understood his own visions.

Spire might not be crazy… but what if he’s wrong ?

Ant was still staring at him. Tigerheart dipped his head to the small brown-and-black tom. “We should rest.” As the sun set, the air chilled. The kits would be cold, although he knew they wouldn’t complain. He could taste ice in the wind. The ground would freeze tonight, and they would wake to a heavy frost. They needed food and a warm nest. And maybe it would give Spire enough time to think about his latest vision—figure out what it meant before they decided to go off in search of an orange sun.

He followed Spire up the bank, overtaking him as they reached the top. A meadow stretched toward the hills. Hedgerows bounded it. He saw a patch where rowan trees sheltered bushes. “We’ll make camp over there.” He nodded toward the rowans as the others climbed the bank.

Spire’s eyes glittered with alarm. “What about the orange sun?”

“We can worry about that in the morning,” Tigerheart told him. “The sun will rise over there.” He nodded toward the hills where Spire had wanted to go. “We can head toward it then.”

Spire shifted his paws distractedly. “Not the dawn sun!” he snapped. “The orange sun!”

Tigerheart curled his tail around Spire. “We’ll find it tomorrow,” he soothed, tugging the skinny tom toward the meadow.

When they reached it, Spire settled in the roots of a rowan. Blaze walked up to Tigerheart, frowning. “He won’t relax until he finds it,” he warned.

“A belly full of food and a warm nest will calm him down,” Tigerheart promised, staring at Spire. His eyes were closed, yet he still seemed to be looking at something.

It’s just because he’s never had any cat to help him, Tigerheart told himself. Without a mentor, of course he can’t figure out what his visions mean. We are going the right way.

We have to be…

As Tigerheart drifted wearily toward sleep, the kits snuggled tighter around him. He could hear Dovewing’s tail flicking uneasily against the side of their makeshift nest. They’d hunted and swept leaves into piles to sleep on. Now the kits were asleep. Cinnamon and Ant were snoring gently, and Spire had stopped murmuring to himself at last.

Dovewing’s tail carried on flicking.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“How do you know this isn’t another vision about ShadowClan?”

He lifted his head and blinked at Dovewing. Her green eyes were shining in the moonlight. “There were no shadows in his vision,” he mewed.

“So you think only some of his visions are true?” Dovewing looked worried.

“I think StarClan used him to send me a message,” Tigerheart told her. “But you’ve heard him. Even he doesn’t always know which parts of his visions are useful.”

Dovewing’s gaze hardened.

“Then how do you know we’re right to be heading back to the lake? What if Spire doesn’t have a connection to StarClan after all?”

“He does!” Tigerheart belly knotted with frustration. “Or he did .”

Dovewing stood up, her tail straight and her eyes blazing with worry. “Tigerheart, what if we’re risking our kits’ lives for no reason—”

“Tigerheart!” Blaze’s anxious whisper sounded beside his ear. He turned to see the young tom staring over the side of the nest. “He’s gone!”

“Who?”

“Spire!” Blaze sounded frantic. “Spire’s gone! I left the camp to make dirt, and when I got back, his nest was empty. I think he’s gone to find the orange sun.”

“But it’s nighttime.” Tigerheart slid from among the kits. “How does he think he’ll find the sun?”

Blaze blinked at him, starlight shimmering on his pelt. “I told you we should have listened to him.”

“Did you know he’d go running off?” Tigerheart fluffed out his fur against the icy chill.

“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left him alone.” Blaze stared past the rowans and across the meadow. “I followed his scent. He headed that way.”