Tigerheart’s Shadow

But Scorchfur dipped his head and grunted. “Okay.” He beckoned Whorlpaw toward the entrance with a flick of his muzzle, then padded after him as he headed into the forest. Flowerpaw and Snakepaw exchanged glances, then followed, Juniperclaw at their heels, Strikestone just behind him.

Tigerheart stepped toward the brown tabby tom. “Thank you,” he purred.

Strikestone dipped his head. “Don’t mention it,” he said, before joining the others on their way out of camp.

Tigerheart watched them go, enjoying the feeling of his anxiety draining away. It was good to see the warriors working together to diffuse the tension and keep the apprentices busy. Rowanstar hadn’t even seemed to notice. He was staring at Puddleshine. “What do you want to tell us?”

As Puddleshine lifted his chin, Tigerheart remembered suddenly how young the medicine cat was. In the moons since he’d earned his medicine-cat name, the young tom had seen so much. They all had. It was easy to forget that Puddleshine had been trained by Leafpool from kit to full medicine cat in little more than a moon. And yet Tigerheart trusted him now as much as he’d once trusted Littlecloud. He could see earnestness in the young tom’s pale blue eyes as Puddleshine began to speak.

“I had a vision this morning. I was watching the camp as it woke. The rising sun cut through the branches and sent long shadows over our Clanmates as they climbed out of their dens and began to move around the clearing. As I watched them padding in and out of the shadows, the sun seemed to strengthen. I could see it beyond the forest, growing fiery, and, as it did, the shadows in the camp became longer, darker—”

“Are you sure this was a vision?” Rowanstar looked puzzled. “It sounds like any other sunrise.”

Puddleshine gave a slow nod. “The sun shone intensely,” he breathed. “As though, at any moment, the whole forest might catch fire. And the shadows were so dark, it looked as though night had cut swaths through the camp. Between the shadows, the sunlight was blinding. Not like dawn light. It was so bright, I had to turn away.” He stopped, shifted his paws. “Then, suddenly, the sun dimmed. It faded beyond the trees and became so weak that it seemed to melt into the pale dawn sky. As it did, the shadows faded. The fierce stripes that had marked the clearing dissolved until no trace of shadow was left in camp. For a moment, the whole forest was awash in sunlight so soft that it was impossible to distinguish between light and shade.”

“The shadows disappeared.” Tigerheart breathed the words. He could barely imagine it. The camp had always been shaped by shadow. Even at sunhigh, the pines and brambles marked the clearing with patches of darkness.

Puddleshine blinked at him. “Without shadows, what is ShadowClan?”

Tigerheart knew the stories the other Clans told of ShadowClan—how darkness molded their hearts, how they thrived on the power they found in shadow where other Clans would wither. Of course, they were just nursery tales, told to frighten kits, but wasn’t there some truth in those stories? To be a ShadowClan cat was to grow up in the enclosing gloom of the forest, to feel hidden and protected by it, to learn to move within it and use its cover for stealth. “But you said when the vision started, the sun was strong.”

Puddleshine nodded. “And the shadows were strong.”

Rowanstar flicked his tail. “But shadows are always strongest when the sun is strongest. We’ve always known that.”

Puddleshine stared at him. “The vision was sent to remind us that when the sun is strong, the shadows are strong.”

Tigerheart’s pelt pricked ominously. “And when the sun fades, the shadows fade.”

Puddleshine’s ears twitched nervously. “In the vision, the shadows disappeared.”

Tigerheart swallowed. Was Puddleshine trying to tell them that ShadowClan was going to disappear?

“But how can we control the sun?” Rowanstar looked confused.

Puddleshine dropped his gaze. “Perhaps we don’t have to. I think the sun represented something else,” he murmured.

Rowanstar stared at him, his pelt prickling irritably. “What could it possibly represent?”

You. Tigerheart stared at his father. How could he fail to understand? The sun represents you. His throat tightened. If Rowanstar was weak, then ShadowClan would disappear. Wasn’t that what was happening already? He pictured Scorchfur’s claw flashing toward Tawnypelt’s eye. The Clan was crumbling. You have to be strong. The words dried on his tongue. How could he accuse his father of being weak in front of their Clanmates? It would crush him.

He looked hopefully at Puddleshine. Perhaps he was going to warn Rowanstar.

“So?” Rowanstar glanced impatiently at Puddleshine. “Tell me what the sun represents. You’re the medicine cat. You’re meant to know these things.”

Tigerheart’s chest tightened. Tell him.

Puddleshine glanced apologetically at Rowanstar. “We are being warned that ShadowClan may disappear.”