Ant padded forward. “We’re all tired and hungry,” he meowed. “Why don’t we find a place to spend the night? We can hunt and fill our bellies.” He glanced at Tigerheart, lowering his voice. “Spire’s always had crazy visions. In the morning he’ll have forgotten about it.”
Tigerheart’s head felt like it was filled with rushing water. He didn’t believe that Spire was crazy, but he was beginning to wonder if, without proper medicine-cat training, the skinny black tom really
Ant was still staring at him. Tigerheart dipped his head to the small brown-and-black tom. “We should rest.” As the sun set, the air chilled. The kits would be cold, although he knew they wouldn’t complain. He could taste ice in the wind. The ground would freeze tonight, and they would wake to a heavy frost. They needed food and a warm nest. And maybe it would give Spire enough time to think about his latest vision—figure out what it meant before they decided to go off in search of an orange sun.
He followed Spire up the bank, overtaking him as they reached the top. A meadow stretched toward the hills. Hedgerows bounded it. He saw a patch where rowan trees sheltered bushes. “We’ll make camp over there.” He nodded toward the rowans as the others climbed the bank.
Spire’s eyes glittered with alarm. “What about the orange sun?”
“We can worry about that in the morning,” Tigerheart told him. “The sun will rise over there.” He nodded toward the hills where Spire had wanted to go. “We can head toward it then.”
Spire shifted his paws distractedly. “Not the dawn sun!” he snapped. “The
Tigerheart curled his tail around Spire. “We’ll find it tomorrow,” he soothed, tugging the skinny tom toward the meadow.
When they reached it, Spire settled in the roots of a rowan. Blaze walked up to Tigerheart, frowning. “He won’t relax until he finds it,” he warned.
“A belly full of food and a warm nest will calm him down,” Tigerheart promised, staring at Spire. His eyes were closed, yet he still seemed to be
As Tigerheart drifted wearily toward sleep, the kits snuggled tighter around him. He could hear Dovewing’s tail flicking uneasily against the side of their makeshift nest. They’d hunted and swept leaves into piles to sleep on. Now the kits were asleep. Cinnamon and Ant were snoring gently, and Spire had stopped murmuring to himself at last.
Dovewing’s tail carried on flicking.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“How do you know this isn’t another vision about ShadowClan?”
He lifted his head and blinked at Dovewing. Her green eyes were shining in the moonlight. “There were no shadows in his vision,” he mewed.
“So you think only
“I think StarClan used him to send me a message,” Tigerheart told her. “But you’ve heard him. Even he doesn’t always know which parts of his visions are useful.”
Dovewing’s gaze hardened.
“Then how do you know we’re right to be heading back to the lake? What if Spire doesn’t have a connection to StarClan after all?”
“He does!” Tigerheart belly knotted with frustration. “Or he
Dovewing stood up, her tail straight and her eyes blazing with worry. “Tigerheart, what if we’re risking our kits’ lives for no reason—”
“Tigerheart!” Blaze’s anxious whisper sounded beside his ear. He turned to see the young tom staring over the side of the nest. “He’s gone!”
“Who?”
“Spire!” Blaze sounded frantic. “Spire’s gone! I left the camp to make dirt, and when I got back, his nest was empty. I think he’s gone to find the orange sun.”
“But it’s nighttime.” Tigerheart slid from among the kits. “How does he think he’ll find the sun?”
Blaze blinked at him, starlight shimmering on his pelt. “I told you we should have listened to him.”
“Did you know he’d go running off?” Tigerheart fluffed out his fur against the icy chill.
“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left him alone.” Blaze stared past the rowans and across the meadow. “I followed his scent. He headed that way.”
Tigerheart flexed his claws. He ached from the day’s walk. He didn’t want to spend the night hunting for a lost cat.
“We have to find him before he freezes.” Blaze’s breath billowed around his muzzle.
“Okay.” Tigerheart wasn’t going to let the skinny tom come to harm. He blinked at Dovewing. “Stay here with the kits. We’re going to look for Spire.”
Dovewing got to her paws, her fur rippling indignantly. “I’m coming too,” she growled. “You’re not the only warrior in camp.”
“What about the kits?”