Tigerheart woke, his heart pounding. He’d dreamed of ShadowClan. He’d been among them, but watching unseen, like a spirit from StarClan. They weren’t aware that he was there. He wasn’t even sure these dream cats would have known him, for they seemed to inhabit a reality he barely recognized.
The pines around the camp had seemed so thick they hid the sky. Darktail had stalked the clearing, and, hollow-eyed, his Clanmates had followed his orders to defend the border from a predatory SkyClan. Tigerheart had tracked them to the scent line and watched in horror as they battled desperately while SkyClan drove them back. Ivypool fought alongside SkyClan, her eyes shining with spiteful triumph as ShadowClan cats fell one by one. Scorchfur lay shrieking in agony, blood oozing from his flanks. Whorlpaw wailed over Snakepaw’s battered body. Flowerpaw backed away as Hawkwing snarled at her, lips drawn back. Snowbird dropped to her belly as Leafstar’s claws left red trails across the white warrior’s face. And all the while Darktail had slipped among the shadows, urging them to fight, driving ShadowClan to more suffering—never entering the battle, but always goading them to sacrifice more.
Tigerheart’s fur rippled as he pushed himself to his paws and blinked in the watery dawn light. The nest where he’d slept was hardly more than a pile of leaves, gathered in a drift against a fallen tree. He’d been traveling for days, following the Silverpath by day, hunting and sleeping by night. His paws ached from walking, and he felt colder each day. He’d grown almost numb to the roar and the wind of passing Thundersnakes and more than once had eaten prey one of them had killed. Or at least he guessed the Thundersnake had killed it, because he’d found it lying beside the track, sour with death. For the first time in his life he had tasted deer flesh. It was stale, not far from rotting, but he’d eaten it gratefully. He was ashamed to eat crow-food, but eating what the Thundersnake left gave him more time to travel.
Twoleg nests had grown more numerous in the past day. He’d slept farther from the track last night, away from the dens clustering around the Silverpath. He guessed he would reach another stopping place soon, where Twolegs could bustle in and out of the Thundersnake. He glanced around the small copse where he’d spent the night and tasted the air. He’d hunted and eaten before he slept, but he was hungry again. There were no fresh prey-scents left here. He would have to hunt as he walked.
As he padded from the shadow of the trees into a thin drizzle, last night’s dream haunted him. Guilt wormed in his belly. Had he left ShadowClan unprotected? StarClan, take care of them. He fluffed out his pelt against the rain and focused on Dovewing. She needed him. His decision to leave had been right. Hadn’t Puddleshine seen his shadow block the sun?
He pushed his way through the wet grass and slid between two dens, emerging onto the Silverpath beyond. A puddle gleamed where water pooled between the tracks. Thirsty, Tigerheart stopped beside it and drank. He shuddered at the foul taste and padded on, feeling queasy and longing for the fresh rainwater pools of the forest.
The rain was hardening, and the damp reached through his fur as he followed the Silverpath down a gentle slope, where the cluster of Twoleg nests thickened. He could smell Thunderpaths and hear the rumbling of monsters beyond them. The track reached deeper into the earth, the land rising on either side in steep banks until Tigerheart’s paws began to prick nervously. Twoleg fences walled the top of the banks. He was hemmed in now, like prey in a gorge. Ahead, a Thunderpath spanned the track, arching above it. Tigerheart glanced nervously over his shoulder. Don’t let a Thundersnake come now. He quickened his pace, hoping that the Silverpath would lead into countryside once more.
Ahead, a flat stone ledge sat squarely beside the track. Another stopping place for a Thundersnake. It was slick with rain. Tigerheart scanned the ledge nervously, relieved when he saw no Twolegs waiting there. As he hurried past it, a mouse darted across the track. He pricked his ears. His belly was still hollow, so he dropped into a hunting crouch and watched the mouse scamper over the track and scrabble up the steep slope onto the stone ledge. Eyeing it hungrily, Tigerheart wondered whether to follow. The ledge was deserted. It would be easy enough to jump up, catch the mouse, and carry it to eat in a quiet spot beyond the Thundersnake’s resting place. He was hungry enough to risk it.
The mouse scurried across the wide stretch of stone. Tigerheart leaped onto the ledge. He tracked it, his pads slapping softly against the wet stone. The mouse hurried for shelter where the ledge met a wall, and ran along the edge. Heart quickening, Tigerheart broke into a run, racing after the mouse. He leaped and caught it between his front paws. He hooked it up and snapped its spine in his jaws. The sweet odor of fresh prey flooded his mouth.
Suddenly, something clacked on the stone behind him. He turned to see a Twoleg walk onto the ledge. Another followed, then a third. Panic shrilled through his body as one turned and stared at him, its eyes widening in surprise.
Without thinking, Tigerheart raced for a pile of Twoleg shells. They were heaped on wooden slats, piled as high as the bramble walls of the ShadowClan camp. Gaps opened between them, large enough to squeeze between but small enough to hide in. He nosed his way inside the pile, the mouse still in his jaws. Wriggling deep, he caught his breath. The sound of Twoleg paw steps grew. Peering out between two shells, Tigerheart could see the ledge growing busy with more Twolegs. A Thundersnake must be coming. Once the creature had passed, the Twolegs would leave, and the ledge would be empty once more. All he had to do was wait.
He drew back as one of the Twolegs walked toward the pile of clutter. A heavy shell dangled from its paw. With a grunt, the Twoleg heaved it on top of the pile and walked away. The shells around Tigerheart shifted slightly, then settled again. Tigerheart drew back into the shadows and began to eat his mouse. No one could see him here, so he might as well satisfy the hunger growling in his belly.
As he swallowed the last morsel, he heard a Thundersnake rumbling to a stop at the ledge. Good. The Twolegs would be gone soon, and he could start traveling again. He settled in deeper among the shells.
Then, with a lurch, the pile of shells began to trundle toward the Thundersnake. I’m moving. Shock spiked through Tigerheart’s pelt as he felt the pile roll across the ledge, the shells rocking around him.
He tried to get out, but a shell was squashing his tail. As the pile of shells rolled into the gloom of the Thundersnake’s belly, he tugged it free and scrambled from the pile. His pelt bushed as he saw the gap in the Thundersnake’s side sliding shut. The bright air outside narrowed to a slit and, by the time he’d reached it, disappeared.
He pawed at the curious wall, as if his small claws could cut a hole through which he could pass. But it was useless.
I’m trapped inside the Thundersnake!
As darkness closed around him, Tigerheart tasted the air. It was rank and musty, the scent of Twolegs faint and stale. He peered out from the pile of shapes. Other piles and larger shells were strapped to the walls and fastened to the floor. Tigerheart felt a prickle of relief. This must be the part of the Thundersnake where Twolegs stored their clutter. He tried to steady his breathing. At least he wasn’t trapped with Twolegs.
As the Thundersnake rumbled beneath his paws, he crept out and picked his way around the clutter, searching for a way out. Light seeped in through a gap high up in the wall. Quickly he scrambled up a cold, hard branch and crept cautiously along it until he could peer out of the Thundersnake.
He saw Twoleg nests flashing past, taller than any he had seen before. From here he couldn’t see their tops, but as the Thundersnake raced on, they began to grow wider, their stone walls darker. Suddenly the Thundersnake plunged into darkness. Light flickered inside its belly, but beyond the clear walls, blackness pressed against its flanks as the Thundersnake rumbled deeper into darkness. It’s just a tunnel, Tigerheart told himself as his claws scraped against the hard surface. The Thundersnake began to slow. Tigerheart looked for daylight beyond the clear walls, where the darkness was easing. But there was no sign of sky, or of daylight. A harsh yellow glow lit a stone cave outside as the Thundersnake slid to a halt. It’s brought me to its lair. I feel like a piece of prey!
Tigerheart pressed harder against the floor, terror swamping him as the gaps in the flanks opened and the Twolegs began to stream out.
He froze. What do I do? Surely it was crazy to step into a Thundersnake’s den? Through the gap he saw another Thundersnake. It sat a tree-length away, at the other side of the ledge, humming while Twolegs crowded past it. This was a Thundersnake camp!
Dread crawled through his fur. Tigerheart stared at the Thundersnake camp, willing himself to move. If he didn’t, he might never find Dovewing. I have to be brave, he told himself.
Then he pelted through the gap in the Thundersnake’s flank, out into its heaving nest.