Эрин Хантер - The Ultimate Guide

Highrocks, flattening the grass on the hillside and threatening to dash the few crows that challenged it back down to the ground. But Mothermouth was silent, waiting for cats to enter and have their lives changed beyond all measure.

Tigerclaw had been here before, as an apprentice in ThunderClan. But this time was different.

Now he came to claim his nine lives as the new leader of ShadowClan. He had arrived in the Clan after the death of their previous leader, Nightstar, who had left his cats confused, frightened, and still traumatized by Brokenstar’s bloody rule. If ever a Clan needed a strong leader, this was it. Tigerclaw bided his time, proved his value as a warrior and hunter, showed his adopted Clanmates that Bluestar had made him deputy of ThunderClan because she saw in him the skills of a future leader. The support of Blackfoot, Russetfur, and Boulder had been essential when it came to putting himself forward as Nightstar’s successor. After some tense discussion, the other cats were persuaded. And now, here Tigerclaw stood, on the brink of everything he had ever wished for. Leadership of a Clan.

Authority over all his Clanmates. The power to wage war on his enemies.

Sleep with one eye open, Fireheart. I am coming for you.

Behind him, Runningnose stirred. “Tigerclaw, the moon is rising,” he meowed.

Tigerclaw looked back at him, feeling his claws scrape against the stone. “StarClan will wait for me,” he growled. Of all the cats whose approval he had sought, Runningnose had proved the most difficult. Even now, Tigerstar wasn’t convinced of his loyalty. But medicine cats lived to serve their Clan, and Runningnose couldn’t oppose the wish of the majority.

“StarClan might, but dawn will not,” Runningnose muttered.

Tigerclaw let his front claws extend until they caught the moonlight. Runningnose blinked his rheumy eyes but stayed where he was. Tigerclaw snorted and turned back to the tunnel. He took a deep breath and walked into the shadows, letting the darkness wash over him like water until he was swallowed entirely. Now he was walking blind, using his whiskers to find the walls, setting each paw carefully on the cold, wet stone as the tunnel began to slope steeply down. He could hear

Runningnose padding behind him, the medicine cat’s rasping breath echoing around the tiny space.

Tigerclaw felt a flare of irritation. Who would trust a medicine cat who couldn’t cure his own sickness, anyway?

Suddenly the sound of his paw steps changed, the walls fell away from his whiskers on either side, and Tigerclaw knew he had reached the cave where the Moonstone stood. He walked forward more slowly until he felt his muzzle brush against the icy crystal. Runningnose moved closer, until

Tigerclaw could feel his hot breath on his flanks.

“Lie down and touch the stone with your nose,” the medicine cat instructed.

I know what to do, mouse-brain! Tigerclaw gritted his teeth and sank to his belly, wincing at the feel of the hard, cold floor. He rested his muzzle against the Moonstone and, in the same instant, a shaft of moonlight sliced through the gap in the roof, turning the crystal to dazzling white light.

Tigerclaw’s heart leaped. StarClan is here!

Runningnose settled himself beside Tigerclaw. The warrior tried not to recoil from the stench of old herbs on the medicine cat’s ungroomed pelt. “Don’t be alarmed,” Runningnose began, “if our ancestors do not come to you.”

Are you blind? The Moonstone is alight with them!

“When I brought Nightpelt here,” Runningnose went on, “things were… not as we expected.

StarClan did not approve of him as our leader because Brokenstar was still alive. It was a very difficult moment.”

Tigerclaw resisted the urge to claw the ears of the foolish old cat. Everything was different this time. “But we know that Brokenstar is no longer alive,” he meowed. “And ShadowClan themselves have asked me to lead them. Will their ancestors deny the wish of their living Clanmates?”

Runningnose whispered something that might have been a prayer, then mewed out loud, “StarClan knows our destiny better than any of us.”

And that destiny is my leadership! Tigerclaw was in no mood to continue debating with the fretful medicine cat. He closed his eyes and felt himself being tugged gently into sleep. Almost at once a cool breeze stirred his fur, scented with pine needles and a mustier tang of marsh water.

Tigerclaw blinked and looked around. He was standing at the edge of a forest thick with pines, lapped by a broad expanse of tussocky grass. “I’m… I’m in ShadowClan!” he gasped.

A cat stepped out of the trees. “Not exactly,” it purred. “This is our version of ShadowClan.”

Tigerclaw looked closer at the newcomer. He was a dark gray tom with a white belly and eyes the color of heather. His fur was shot through with starlight, and Tigerclaw could see the outline of tree trunks behind his misted flanks.

“I am Cedarstar,” meowed the StarClan cat. “Welcome.”

Tigerclaw let out a long breath, suddenly aware of the tension that had made his fur lift along his spine. StarClan welcomes me! “Are there others?” he asked. I need nine lives, not one!

Cedarstar gestured with his tail to the edge of the woodland. The shadows sparkled with light as, one by one, a long line of cats stepped forward and nodded to Tigerclaw. The warrior stood and stared. They have come!

A small, ginger she-cat padded forward until she was barely a mouse-length from Tigerclaw’s muzzle. He flinched when he realized he couldn’t feel her breath on his nose, then reminded himself that these cats no longer lived the way he did.

“We have waited a long time for you,” meowed the she-cat. “My name is Littlebird, and I died without being able to save my Clan from Brokenstar. Now my Clan can be strong again.”

Tigerclaw bowed his head. “If you will help me, then I will lead your Clan to greater victories than it has ever known before.”

“Victory isn’t everything,” Littlebird mewed lightly. “Sometimes peace brings greater rewards.”

Believe that if you wish. Once I am leader, I will use your former Clan to seek revenge on every cat who has ever wronged me.

Littlebird leaned forward and pressed her muzzle against Tigerstar’s head. She had to stretch on tiptoe to reach. “I give you a life for compassion,” she murmured. “Try to understand what is important to other cats, not just yourself, and let that guide your paws.”

In an instant, Tigerclaw’s mind whirled with countless images of cats in pain, joy-filled cats, cats wailing in terror or hissing with fury. He staggered, overwhelmed by the emotions that poured into him from all sides, and deafened by the noise inside his world.

“Be strong, Tigerclaw,” Littlebird whispered. “It takes more courage than you know to feel what other cats do.”

Tigerclaw straightened up. If I am the leader of my Clan, and my word is law, why should I concern myself with what my Clanmates think? My duty is to lead them; theirs is to follow. “Thank you, Littlebird,” he meowed out loud.

The ferns behind Littlebird stirred and a tiny shape slipped out. Not much bigger than a newborn kit, with a black-and-white pelt that glowed in the half-light, the cat trotted up to Tigerclaw and craned its neck to look up at him. “I am Badgerfang!” he squeaked.