Эрин Хантер - Tigerheart’s Shadow

“I suppose he was guided by StarClan,” Tigerheart murmured.

“I wonder if StarClan guides many cats beyond the lake…” Dovewing met his gaze. “Or do they just touch cats lost warriors will encounter?” As she paused again, Tigerheart wondered what she was trying to say. “Do you think we were meant to travel to the city?” She blinked at him, sunlight flaming in her green gaze.

Tigerheart had never wondered if StarClan had sent Dovewing’s dreams. He’d assumed they were the anxieties of an expectant mother, and he’d followed because he’d trusted Dovewing’s instinct. But she could be right. He remembered, with a shiver, Spiresight’s strange greeting when they’d first met in the gathering-place den. Now they’re both finally here. He blinked at Dovewing. “I think you may be right.” His pelt prickled. “I was alone when I left ShadowClan, but I will return with Clanmates, both new and old. And ShadowClan needs warriors more than ever.” He felt the tug of home like a claw in his belly. I am coming, Rowanstar. His father needed him.

Can I wait while Berryheart’s kits find their traveling paws? Tigerheart flicked his tail. I’ll have to. He’d found old Clanmates, and he wasn’t going to risk losing them again by leaving them here. When he returned to ShadowClan, he would bring with him enough cats to make the Clan strong once more. He lifted his face to the rising sun. You’ll be proud of me, Rowanstar, I promise. Just hold on until I reach you.

Tigerheart pricked his ears. Ahead the bracken—still stiff from the morning’s frost—crackled. He dropped into a hunting crouch.

“We don’t need more prey.” Behind him Cloverfoot stood over the squirrel they’d already caught. Blaze held a fat pigeon between his jaws.

“Hush.” Tigerheart flicked his tail impatiently to quiet the tabby she-cat. “Berryheart needs as much food as we can catch until the kits are fully weaned.”

A moon old now, Hollowkit, Sunkit, and Spirekit had tasted their first prey. But although they were growing fast and exploring farther from their nest each day, they still suckled at night.

The bracken crackled again. Pelt prickling excitedly, Tigerheart leaped. He dived between the fronds and clamped his paws over a mouse. It twitched in panic as he hooked it toward him and gave it a killing bite. Its musky scent made his mouth water. Even now, nearly two moons after leaving the city, the taste of forest prey still filled him with pleasure. He wondered if he’d ever get the taste of scrapcan trash off his tongue. He lifted the mouse and carried it back to Cloverfoot.

She purred. “Are you enjoying hunting for your Clan again?”

“I never really stopped.” Tigerheart dropped the mouse beside the squirrel. “The guardian cats were like a Clan to me. But there’s no honor in scavenging. When I bring my Clanmates forest prey, I feel I am feeding them prey worthy of them.”

He picked up the mouse and headed toward the temporary camp they’d built between two swaths of bramble. They had dug nests among the roots and dragged bracken to make a low camp wall where the brambles didn’t reach. Berryheart’s nest was deepest inside the bush, safe from nosy predators. This stretch of hillside had sheltered them peacefully. Owls called where the forest deepened into oak and birch, and foxes screeched in the valley below, but Tigerheart had never scented predators on the territory he’d marked around the camp.

He hadn’t declared himself leader of their tiny Clan, but no one questioned his orders, and it was to Tigerheart they looked to organize the daily hunting and border patrols. Cinnamon had managed to build a small store of herbs, remembering, with the help of Blaze, the sight and scent of the leaves Spiresight and the other healers had used. Luckily, no cat had fallen ill, despite the cold weather. Cinnamon had treated an occasional bellyache and sore throat, but her skills hadn’t been stretched beyond mild ailments.

The cats were rested by the enforced break in their journey, and Tigerheart sensed relief in Dovewing’s gaze as she watched Pouncekit, Lightkit, and Shadowkit play in the shelter of the camp. He’d felt relief too. The long days of walking had been hard on the kits. But as the moon had worn on, impatience had begun to itch beneath his pelt. Rowanstar’s message rang in his mind. Tell Rowanstar I’m sorry it’s taking so long. Had StarClan known the journey would be this long when they’d sent Rowanstar’s words to Spiresight? Would Tigerheart arrive too late to help his Clan? The tug of home grew stronger each day, and he realized that once more he was beginning to feel trapped, worrying more about ShadowClan with each passing sunset.

As Tigerheart reached the camp now, he heard the kits squeaking. His whiskers twitched with pleasure as he glimpsed them over the bracken. Hollowkit and Spirekit were stalking Pouncekit and Lightkit while Sunkit nestled at Berryheart’s belly. Were they old enough to travel yet?

“Watch out!” Pouncekit mewed a warning to Lightkit as Spirekit sprang. Lightkit pretended to struggle to escape as the tiny kit began tugging at her tail. Hollowkit squealed with delight and flung himself at Pouncekit. He reared and hooked his claws into her shoulder, and she wailed dramatically and fell to the ground.

“You got me!” Pouncekit groaned as he clambered onto her flank and stood there triumphantly.

“Tigerheart!” Lightkit’s eyes lit up as she saw her father pad into camp. She pulled free of Spirekit and raced to meet him, sniffing eagerly at the prey he was carrying. “You caught a mouse!” She bounced around him. “Can I have it? I love mouse. It’s my favorite.”

Tigerheart dropped the prey at the edge of the small clearing. “It’s Shadowkit’s favorite too,” he told her. “You’ll have to share.” He glanced around the camp. Ant and Cinnamon were resting in a patch of sunshine that filtered between the branches. Rippletail was mending a hole in the bracken wall, threading brambles through, which Sparrowtail passed over the top. “Where is Shadowkit?” He couldn’t see the gray tom-kit.

“He and Dovewing went out of camp to talk.” Lightkit was sniffing the mouse distractedly.

Hollowkit and Spirekit hurried to sniff it with her.

“It’s all furry.” Spirekit frowned.

Pouncekit padded to join them. “I like the fur,” she mewed. “It’s chewy.”

As Hollowkit wrinkled his nose, Tigerheart peered over the top of the low camp wall. He could see Dovewing and Shadowkit a little way away, their heads bent together as they talked. He nodded to Lightkit. “Why don’t you show Spirekit how to strip out the meat?” he suggested. “But remember to leave some for Shadowkit.”

“Okay.” She dragged the mouse away from the fresh-kill pile and began to nibble through the fur. Spirekit watched her eagerly.

Tigerheart leaped the camp wall and padded toward Dovewing and Shadowkit. What were they talking about so intently?

Dovewing looked up as he neared. She blinked as though she was relieved to see him. “You’re back.” There was worry in her mew.

“Is everything okay?” Tigerheart glanced from Dovewing to Shadowkit. The gray tom’s eyes were round and anxious.

“Shadowkit had a dream,” Dovewing told him.

“A bad one?” Had the kit had a nightmare?

“No.” Dovewing smoothed her tail along Shadowkit’s spine. “Tell Tigerheart what you told me.”

“I know how to get to the lake,” Shadowkit mewed earnestly.