When he reached it, the glade stood in shadow, empty. He stared, at first in disbelief and then with awful certainty. A breeze whisked through the trees, and shriveled leaves fluttered to the ground. She left without me. Grief seared his heart. Above him, thick cloud hid the moon. Rain began to fall, pattering lightly on the canopy. It grew heavier, and as Tigerheart stared bereft at the deserted clearing, drops began to seep through the thick pine branches and splash onto his pelt.
He stood numbly, the ache in his head growing sharper. He could feel heat behind one ear where his head had struck the tree.
What do I do? Confusion seemed to weave his thoughts into knots. His paws led him forward. He opened his mouth, instinctively tasting the damp air for Dovewing’s scent. It hung in the glade, so fresh that his heart leaped. He could catch up with her. She must have waited a while.
He lowered his head and followed her scent trail like a fox. It skirted the boundary between SkyClan and ShadowClan before cutting straight through ShadowClan territory. She’s heading for the Thunderpath. He knew the Twoleg route that divided the forest and the marsh, which lay beyond Clan boundaries.
Does she know where she’s going? Through the throbbing in his head, he tried to remember what she’d told him about her dream. A huge Twolegplace with nests that reach into the sky. I saw a roof there with sharp points that stick up into the sky like gorse spines. We must find that den. Our kits will be safe there.
Did she know where this huge Twolegplace was? He’d never heard any of the Clan cats speak of it. Perhaps Dovewing hoped that the Thunderpath would lead her to it.
Pain pressed above his eyes, dulling his thoughts. I just have to follow her scent, he thought numbly. He padded on, letting his paws and Dovewing’s scent guide him while he fought the pounding in his head. The rain grew heavier, thundering onto the canopy, and when he finally reached the forest’s edge, he walked out into a downpour that drenched his pelt and half-blinded him.
Monsters growled on the Thunderpath ahead, lighting the thick rain with their burning eyes. Their paws threw up spray. Tigerheart hung back. The Thunderpath was jammed with a stream of monsters thicker than he’d ever seen. Were the Twolegs migrating? Their monsters streamed after one another like geese heading south for the winter, leaving no gap to cross. Tigerheart stopped a few tail-lengths from the edge, out of reach of the filthy spray. His head spun as he stared at the stampeding monsters. Had Dovewing found a way between their rolling paws? He tried to glimpse a gap, but the speeding monsters made him dizzy, whipping past him one after another. Rain pounded his pelt, streaming into his eyes. Blinking rapidly, his head aching, he sank to his belly and watched the passing monsters helplessly. Dovewing. Why didn’t you wait? His heart seemed to crack open with loss and frustration. They should be facing this together. Why hadn’t he met her in time? The night darkened around him; the burning lights from the monsters blurred. Their growling faded as his thoughts jumbled and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
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.