Эрин Хантер - Tigerheart’s Shadow

Tigerheart flexed his claws. He ached from the day’s walk. He didn’t want to spend the night hunting for a lost cat.

“We have to find him before he freezes.” Blaze’s breath billowed around his muzzle.

“Okay.” Tigerheart wasn’t going to let the skinny tom come to harm. He blinked at Dovewing. “Stay here with the kits. We’re going to look for Spire.”

Dovewing got to her paws, her fur rippling indignantly. “I’m coming too,” she growled. “You’re not the only warrior in camp.”

“What about the kits?”

“Cinnamon and Ant can take care of them.” Dovewing leaned into the nest and plucked Shadowkit by his scruff.

The dark gray kit murmured sleepily as she carried him to Ant and Cinnamon’s nest. “What’s happening?”

Dovewing placed him between the guardian cats. “You and your littermates are spending the night in Cinnamon’s nest,” she told him briskly.

Ant opened his eyes.

“Can you and Cinnamon take care of the kits?” Dovewing asked him. “Spire’s wandered off and we have to go and find him.”

Ant blinked at her sleepily. “Okay.”

Cinnamon lifted her head. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve got the kits tonight.” Ant yawned. “Spire’s wandered off.”

Cinnamon sat up, her eyes sparkling with worry.

Dovewing fetched Pouncekit and dropped her in the nest. “It’s okay,” she reassured Cinnamon. “We’ll find him and bring him back.”

Pouncekit looked around blearily. “What’s happening?”

Cinnamon wrapped her tail around the kit while Dovewing fetched Lightkit. “Don’t worry, little ones. Tigerheart and Dovewing are going to look for Spire. Go back to sleep.” She drew Lightkit close to her belly as Dovewing placed her beside Pouncekit.

“We’ll be back soon.” Dovewing blinked at the kits, who stared back like anxious owls. “Be good and go to sleep. And try not to fidget.”

“We’ll take care of them,” Cinnamon promised.

Ant stared across the meadow. “Spire can’t have gone far, and on a cold night like this, his scent should be easy to follow.”

“We’ll bring him back.” Dovewing turned her tail and joined Tigerheart.

Tigerheart could smell Blaze’s fear-scent. The young tom was pacing impatiently around him. “Come on.” He headed away from camp. “Show me where you picked up Spire’s scent.”

Blaze hurried ahead, sniffing at the ground. “It’s fresh, but he was running. Look how he’s scuffed the grass.”

Tigerheart saw the paw marks. Spire’s claws had kicked lumps from the frozen ground. He must have been moving fast. “He won’t be able to keep that pace up for long.” He broke into a trot. He was annoyed with the skinny tom. Spire had made him and Dovewing argue. Now he’d gotten him out of his warm nest in the middle of the night. It would do the dumb cat good to freeze a little.

Dovewing padded beside him as they crossed the moon-drenched meadow. Blaze kept a little way ahead, trying to push the pace but slowing each time he looked back and saw Tigerheart lagging. Tigerheart felt a prick of guilt as Blaze reached the foot of the hill. The young cat was worried. It wasn’t fair to let him suffer just because Spire was being difficult.

He picked up his pace, Dovewing trailing him as he caught up to Blaze. The slope grew quickly steeper. Heather sprouted among rocks as the grass grew rougher beneath his paws. Soon they were following a gritty trail between wind-hewn stones. “Can you still smell his scent?” he asked Blaze.

“Can’t you?” Blaze flashed him a look.

Tigerheart didn’t want to admit that the guardian cats smelled so much like the Twoleg tang that had infused their den, he’d never really been able to tell their scents apart. Only now that wind and rain had washed the city smell from them was he beginning to recognize Cinnamon’s and Ant’s smells when they were out of sight. He wondered, with a spark of alarm, if he’d have the same problem with his Clanmates when he got home. Would the pungent smell of pinesap overwhelm him now?

“Look!” Dovewing nudged his flank as she caught up to him. She was staring along the trail. The stones opened onto a rocky rise. Above it, an owl circled. “Maybe we shouldn’t have left the kits.” The owl was huge, its wingspan as long as a branch.

“They’re hidden beneath the rowans, and Cinnamon and Ant are with them,” Tigerheart told her, anxiety pricking in his pelt. “Besides, the owl’s here, not back there.”

Blaze fell in beside them, his gaze following theirs. “Why is it circling? Do you think it’s spotted prey?” He glanced at Tigerheart with round, frightened eyes, and Tigerheart guessed what he was thinking. A small, skinny tom like Spire would be easy for an owl that big to carry off.

“Let’s hurry.” He avoided Blaze’s question and scrambled to the top of the slope. He crossed the summit quickly and gazed into the valley below. A Thunderpath ran along the bottom. It was wide where the ground flattened between the hills. A lone monster was heading into the distance, its blazing eyes the only Twoleg light in the landscape.

He scanned the grass on the slope below, searching for movement. “Can you see him?” he asked Blaze.

“No.” Blaze’s fur ruffled in the breeze.

“What’s that?” Dovewing’s mew made Tigerheart stiffen. Had she spotted the tom on the hillside? He followed her gaze to a shape looming beside the Thunderpath. It looked small from up here, but he guessed that it was as big as the side of a Twoleg nest—a tall, flat, solitary wall, facing the Thunderpath. Dovewing narrowed her eyes. “Why did Twolegs build a wall there? Is it a signal for the monsters?”

Blaze was staring at it. “It has shapes on it, like the shapes Spire used to draw in dirt sometimes to show me what his visions looked like.”

Tigerheart strained to see. The flat surface of the wall was shaded with color that he couldn’t make out in the moonlight.

Blaze hurried suddenly forward. “Spire’s scent!”

Tigerheart followed the young tom as he raced down the hill. The coarse grass felt slippery beneath his paws as Blaze led him zigzagging between rocks and heather. He was out of breath by the time they reached the side of the Thunderpath.

Dovewing pulled up behind him, panting. She scanned the valley. “Did he follow the Thunderpath or cross it?”

Blaze ducked and sniffed the grass, following a trail over the grass. He stopped and lifted his tail. “He crossed here.” The young tom stood opposite the Twoleg wall, which loomed on the other side.

Tigerheart blinked at the colors that stained the wall, frowning as he tried to make out a picture. In the moonlight, the stains looked gray, but he realized, with a jolt, that the shapes were familiar. The great Twoleg wall had been stained to look like a city skyline, and above the jagged roofs Tigerheart saw the shape of a big, round sun. He stared at it, surprise bristling through his fur. Could this be the orange sun Spire had meant?

Blaze was already crossing the deserted Thunderpath. The young tom stopped beneath the wall and gazed up at it. “This must be his vision!” He spun around, searching. “Spire’s scent is here.”

Dovewing blinked at Tigerheart. “I guess he’s been right all along.” Was that relief in her gaze?

“Come on.” Tigerheart led the way across the Thunderpath. It sparkled where frost was beginning to creep over the smooth stone. He stopped below the stained wall. Blaze was sniffing the bottom eagerly.

Tigerheart pricked his ears. He could hear cats talking nearby. He stiffened, alarm sparking in his belly. “There are cats behind the wall,” he hissed to Blaze.

Blaze lifted his muzzle, pausing as he listened. “It’s Spire,” he mewed. “He’s talking to some cat.”