Tigerheart’s Shadow

Another monster pulled up and stopped at the edge of the Thunderpath. Several Twolegs climbed out and headed toward the gathering-place entrance.

Tigerheart hesitated. He knew Spire wanted to be alone, but he wanted to know what yowling time was. He’d leave soon, but for now he’d watch. Another group of Twolegs were heading up the smooth stone path toward the wooden entrance. Soon more were flocking toward the thorn den, and Tigerheart glanced guiltily at Spire, whose gaze hadn’t shifted from the Twolegs. “I should go.” Reluctantly, he turned toward the cavern.

“Stay and listen if you want.” Spire shifted his paws.

“But you wanted to be alone,” Tigerheart reminded him.

“Being pestered by a kit is not the same as sitting with a warrior.” Spire didn’t look at him. He was absently watching more Twolegs arrive. He must have watched it many times before.

Tigerheart padded to the tom’s side and sat beside him.

“I like having Blaze around,” Spire meowed suddenly, as though he felt he had to explain. “But kits ask lots of questions, and this morning I need to think.”

Tigerheart remembered with a pang how Grassheart’s kits had asked questions relentlessly, and had wanted to play when Grassheart longed to doze quietly in the sunshine. The apprentices had kept them busy, teaching them games and hunting moves, and the elders had joined in, giving Grassheart a chance to rest. Would his kits ask questions? How would he and Dovewing cope without Clanmates to help them?

“I had a dream.” Spire interrupted his thoughts. “I saw a tree fall…” The tom’s eyes had glazed; his mew had drifted into thoughtfulness. “It cut through a shadow as black as night.”

A shadow? Tigerheart stiffened. Spire might not be a medicine cat, and they were far beyond the reach of StarClan—but there was something about the way that he described his dream that made Tigerheart feel it might be significant.

“Where it cut through,” Spire continued, “I could see beyond.”

Tigerheart’s pelt prickled with foreboding. “What could you see?”

Spire looked at him, his gaze clearing suddenly as though waking from a trance. “Light.”

Tigerheart’s thoughts spun in a way they hadn’t since he’d left ShadowClan. He’d thought he was free of omens and worry. But now, this cat, who had never even heard of StarClan, was talking of dreams like a real medicine cat. His dream sounded like one Puddleshine might have had. And it was about shadows. Always shadows! Tigerheart shivered. “The tree.” He stared at Spire. “The one that sliced through the shadow… What sort was it?” Could it represent Rowanstar?

Spire shrugged. “It was a tree. A tall one. An old one.”

“Was it a rowan tree?”

“I don’t know,” Spire told him. “A tree is a tree.”

“But it’s important!” Was his father going to destroy ShadowClan like the tree in Spire’s dream? Or would he cut through the shadows that threatened to swallow the Clan and find a way to light beyond? “How did you feel when you saw the tree cut the shadow? Were you scared?” Tigerheart leaned closer. “Or did you feel hope?”

“I didn’t feel anything, apart from curiosity.” Spire looked at him blankly. “Why? Does the dream mean something to you?”

Tigerheart looked away. “I don’t know.” He stared at the ground. Spire wasn’t a Clan cat. How could his dream have anything to do with ShadowClan? “You dream a lot, right?”

“Yes.” Spire curled his tail over his paws and looked back toward the Twolegs streaming into the gathering place. “Sometimes when I’m awake.”

Tigerheart forced his fur to smooth. Maybe they aren’t real visions, he told himself. Maybe Spire just has… a good imagination.

The gathering place began to hum with Twoleg murmuring. Then the noise swelled suddenly, and the murmurings joined into one voice that yowled in a way Tigerheart had never heard before. Their yowling lifted and fell, hardened and softened, like the song of a bird in greenleaf. Tigerheart stared at the great den. The huge thorn jutting from its roof sparkled against the cloudless sky as the Twolegs wailed inside.

Spire blinked at him. “Let’s go back into the cavern,” he meowed. “The yowling sounds more interesting from down there.”

Tigerheart’s ears twitched. He hurried after Spire as the tom headed toward the gap in the wall. Dovewing would wonder where he’d gone.

I’m coming. He broke into a run. Dovewing needed him. That’s why he’d come here. Forget about ShadowClan. Why had he let Spire’s dream spook him? But what if StarClan is trying to reach me? He pushed away the nagging doubt. ShadowClan had Rowanstar. I’m needed here now, not there.

He nosed through the gap ahead of Spire and jumped down to the wooden ledge. Dovewing was awake, sitting in a pool of sunshine, watching Blaze and Ant play fight.