Tigerheart’s Shadow

Traveling with kits was slower than Tigerheart had imagined. “We might make it home earlier if we don’t dawdle,” he told her.

Cinnamon hurried to catch up to the kits. “Why don’t we play a game to make the time pass?”

Lightkit looked at her, brightening. “What game?”

“Let’s make up names for the trees and plants and creatures we see, and Tigerheart and Dovewing can tell us if we’re right.” Cinnamon looked hopefully at Tigerheart.

He blinked at her gratefully. He’d been surprised at how hard she and Ant worked to distract the kits. Yesterday, Ant had persuaded Pouncekit, Lightkit, and Shadowkit to race him as they traveled; he had pointed out trees along the way and challenged them to reach them before he did. The guardian cats had also turned out to be useful hunters. Tigerheart had wondered how they’d manage without scrapcans to scavenge from, but they’d adapted easily to chasing prey, and their pelts grew glossier, their eyes brighter, and their muscles tighter each day.

Blaze was shaping up to be the best hunter. Two days ago he’d caught his first rabbit. He’d outwitted it by cutting across its path, and his killing bite was so accurate that it had hardly mattered that the rabbit was almost as big as him. Hunting was when the young tom seemed happiest. During the day, as they walked, he kept quiet and stayed close to Spire, shadowing the healer protectively. Spire hardly spoke, but watched the passing fields and hills as though looking for something. Tigerheart had the feeling that he was making this journey for a reason he had left unspoken. He was uneasy that the strange tom never shared the dreams and visions that seemed so often to cloud his gaze.

“Thorn-thistle!”

Shadowkit’s mew jerked Tigerheart back to the present. He blinked at the kit, wondering why he was staring at him so eagerly.

Pouncekit bounced to Tigerheart’s side. “He’s guessing a plant name,” she explained. She pointed her muzzle to a large bush dotted with red hips.

“That’s sweetbriar,” Tigerheart told them. “But thorn-thistle was a good guess.”

Shadowkit puffed his chest out proudly. Lightkit wandered across the track and climbed the bank to where the shrub sprouted from among the browning bracken. She sniffed one of the red buds that weighted down a stem. “Can we eat these?” she asked.

“I don’t think so.” Dovewing hurried to her side. “Jayfeather might use them to make medicine, though.”

“Who’s Jayfeather?” Lightkit blinked at her.

Pouncekit lifted her tail.” Don’t you remember? Dovewing told us about him. He’s the blind healer cat.”

Spire’s gaze sharpened suddenly. “Healers!” he meowed. “I remember now. You said each Clan has healers like me.”

“Kind of,” Tigerheart told him. “Except medicine cats have been trained since they were ’paws.”

“Will we be ’paws when we get to the lake?” Pouncekit asked eagerly.

“Not straight away,” Tigerheart told her. “You have to be six moons old before you can become an apprentice.”

“But you said we’ve walked farther than any kits have ever walked.” Lightkit padded back down to the track and fell in beside her sister. “Doesn’t that mean we can start training sooner?”

Dovewing joined her. “No.” As she looked sternly at the kits, Spire suddenly stopped.

Tigerheart glanced back at the skinny tom. “Are you tired? We can stop soon and hunt. But we need to keep going a while longer.”

Spire’s eyes had misted once more. He was staring into the far distance, beyond the trees that lined the track to the softly rolling hills beyond.

“We need to leave the track.” His meow suddenly rose into a panicked wail. “Here! We must leave it here. This is where we must find the orange sun.”

Tigerheart stared at him warily. The crazy cat was staring away from the sun, which was dipping toward the horizon, a red fiery ball. There was no time for this. They needed to head home. But he didn’t want to argue with the healer. “It will be safer if we keep following the track.”

Spire bounded up the bank. “This way,” he mewed urgently. “The orange sun is this way. We have to find it. They need us.”

Unease prickled through Tigerheart’s pelt. What if this vision is important?

Cinnamon hurried to the healer’s side. “Come on, Spire. Let’s stay on the track. We don’t want to get lost.”

Blaze’s pelt lifted along his spine. “You have to believe him.” He looked pleadingly at the others. “When he’s like this, you have to believe him.”

“But he seems confused to me,” Dovewing meowed. “The orange sun’s over there.” She pointed to the sunset with her muzzle. “Who could possibly need us out here? We don’t know any cat.”

“And we’re needed at home.” There wasn’t time to chase more visions. And Cinnamon was right. What if they left the track and couldn’t find their way back? How would they ever find their way home?

Blaze squared his shoulders. “We have to listen to him.”