Tigerheart’s Shadow

He dreamed. Puddleshine stood beside him as the sun rose over the ShadowClan camp. Tigerheart knew at once that he was in the medicine cat’s vision. The sun burned beyond the trees, casting black shadows in stripes across the clearing. Juniperclaw, Tawnypelt, Snowbird, and Whorlpaw padded from their dens. Grassheart yawned in the middle of the clearing and stretched as a dark shadow fell across her glossy pelt. Rowanstar moved beside the rock near his den, his eyes flashing in the dawn light. Tigerheart blinked in the fierce sunshine as it sliced between the trees, half-blinded until suddenly the sun began to fade.

“Puddleshine.” Tigerheart called to the medicine cat watching from the edge of the clearing, but the brown tom didn’t seem to hear him. His gaze was fixed on the clearing as the sun dissolved into the pale blue sky and the shadows evaporated like mist.

I’m seeing what he saw. Tigerheart knew where this dream had carried him and watched intently. He glanced toward his father. Would the ShadowClan leader fade with the shadows? Rowanstar blinked beside the rock, his gaze blank as though unaware of the changing light. Then, suddenly, the sun brightened once more. Tigerheart jerked his nose toward it. Puddleshine didn’t mention this part of his vision. He narrowed his eyes as the sun reddened and intensified until it looked like flame burning at the edge of the forest. The shadows in camp darkened once more, reaching across the clearing, casting his Clanmates into gloom. Then Tigerheart saw himself standing at the edge of the clearing, his outline carved from darkness by brilliant sunshine. His pelt shimmered in the fierce light. The shadow he cast was long and black, far darker than any other in camp, while across the clearing Rowanstar dissolved into milky light.

“When the sun is strong, the shadows are strong.”

As Puddleshine’s mew rang across the clearing, Tigerheart felt cold. A chill gripped him and he struggled awake. Rain was seeping through his fur. He blinked open his eyes, Puddleshine’s words ringing in his ears. When the sun is strong…

He sat up. The rain was still falling. Weak dawn light filtered through the gray clouds. The Thunderpath lay empty, the marsh stretching into a haze of rain beyond. He felt groggy, his head still aching. He shivered with cold and fluffed out his pelt. When the sun is strong. Puddleshine’s words buzzed in his ears like a bothersome fly. Unease tugged in Tigerheart’s belly. The dream meant something. He could sense it. The sun. Tigerheart stiffened. The son ! When the son is strong, the shadows are strong! Understanding burst like starlight in his thoughts. Rowanstar wasn’t the sun that would make ShadowClan strong. Only the son could save ShadowClan from disappearing. The son is the sun!

His headache faded. Energy fizzed beneath his pelt. He had to get back to his Clan. He was the one who could save them! He headed away from the Thunderpath and hurried into the forest. Why hadn’t he realized earlier?

As he crossed the wet forest floor, the sound of rain pounding the branches above him, guilt jabbed at his belly.

Dovewing. The thought pricked his heart. I’m sorry. His Clan needed him too much. And if Dovewing had truly needed him, she would have waited…

She had to understand—his whole Clan was at stake.

He reached the ditches and crossed them, his belly feeling more hollow with every leap. Grief tugged at his heart. I have to save them. As he saw the bramble wall of the camp looming ahead of him, Tigerheart lifted his chin. Dovewing would have to take care of herself for now, and their kits. He ignored the shame that clawed in his belly. If ShadowClan was to survive, he needed to be here.

Chapter 6

In the days since Dovewing had left, the rain hadn’t let up. Tigerheart trudged through it now, following Stonewing, Juniperclaw, and Whorlpaw home from a hunt. The swelling behind his ear had eased since Puddleshine had treated it with nettles soaked in rainwater. His headache had lingered for a day but was gone now.

Tigerheart held a soggy sparrow between his jaws. The others carried prey too. Whorlpaw was clearly proud of the young rabbit he’d caught and walked with his tail high, despite the rain dripping from the trees and the earth squelching beneath his paws.