“But he wasn’t listening to me!” Flametail lashed his tail. “He was listening to Littlecloud, and Littlecloud is too close to his medicine-cat friends.”
“Don’t worry.” Rowanclaw ran his tail along Flametail’s spine. “ShadowClan has always stood alone.”
“The warriors, maybe.” Flametail ducked away from his father’s soothing tail. “But never the medicine cats. Something’s happening inside StarClan.” A surge of determination stiffened his weary muscles. “All the Clans will be affected. This time we cannot risk relying on anyone but ourselves.”
Chapter 11
Dovepaw shifted her paws. It was too cold to stand still. The ground was lightly dusted with snow. The sky had cleared, and stars sparkled over the forest. Chilled to the bone, Dovepaw paced the scent line again, keeping her ears pricked. Was Tigerheart coming? She reached through the trees, past the beeches, through the pines, stretching her senses to the ShadowClan camp.
“Move over, Pinepaw! You’re crushing my nest.”
“Have some juniper before you sleep, Littlecloud. Just to ease the wheezing.”
Other sounds crowded at the edge of her hearing. Dovepaw let her senses spread wider.
“Swallowtail!”
The wind whisking the moor nearly swept away the voices from the WindClan camp.
“Where’s Whitetail?”
“She’s sharing Onestar’s den tonight.”
Water lapped at the edge of the RiverClan camp.
“Willowshine?” Mothwing called to her apprentice. “Did you make sure Pouncetail’s bedding was fixed?”
A dog yapped crossly near the horseplace. It reminded Dovepaw of the fox, and she drew her senses closer, sweeping the forest nearby just in case the freezing air had fooled her nose again.
Paw steps brushed the thin covering of snow only tail-lengths away. There was weight in them, though they were creeping lightly. Dovepaw tensed, jerking her head to scan the shadowy trees. The paw steps quickened. Dovepaw crouched lower as claws scuffed the ground.
“Dovepaw?”
Tigerheart!
“You spooked me!”
“I thought you’d hear me coming.” A purr rumbled in his chest. “You have sharper hearing than any cat I know.”
Too sharp. She’d been listening so hard, she’d missed the one thing she’d been waiting for. She needed to remember that hearing everything was sometimes not as useful as hearing something.
“Dovepaw?” Tigerheart’s eyes were gleaming in the moonlight.
She blinked. “Sorry.” She wasn’t going to let her powers distract her from Tigerheart. He wasn’t going to think of her as anything but an ordinary forest cat.
The warrior nudged her shoulder softly with his muzzle. “Stop apologizing.”
Above them, the waning moon curled like a claw in the sable black sky and bathed the forest with soft light. Tigerheart’s pelt shone beneath it, and Dovepaw felt dazzled by the sight of him.
“Come on.” He headed away.
“Where are we going?”
“I know a place where no one will find us.”
Dovepaw hurried after him. He was heading away from the lake, following the ShadowClan border. The land sloped gently upward, and the trees began to thin. She started to get breathless keeping up.
“You’ll love this place,” Tigerheart called back. “No one knows about it except me and Flametail.”
The scents of ThunderClan and ShadowClan were growing fainter. Dovepaw glanced over her shoulder. The lake looked like a flattened disc glimmering far away through the trees. “Are we leaving Clan territory?” Excitement prickled in her belly. Was that mountain air she could smell? And what was that musky scent? Her fur pricked as a familiar smell hit her tongue.
Jayfeather.
She stopped and sniffed a low thorny bush. Jayfeather’s scent lingered on the tips of the stems. Lionblaze’s, too. What had they been doing here? She touched a stem with her tongue. The scents were stale. Moons had passed, from the taste of it.
“Hurry up.” Tigerheart paused above her on the slope. Silhouetted in the moonlight, his forepaws planted squarely, his chin high, he looked like a Clan leader.
Dovepaw pushed the thought away. “Coming!” She scrambled up the slope to a clearing. Ahead, a tumbledown Twoleg nest rose like a gray tree stump, smaller than the abandoned nest in ThunderClan’s territory. Half the walls had fallen down, and there was hardly any roof.
“Wow!” Dovepaw raced past Tigerheart and dashed up the pebbly path that led to the den entrance. She stopped where shadows filled the opening and turned back to Tigerheart. “Is it safe?”
Tigerheart nodded.
Dovepaw crossed the smooth rock that spanned the entrance and padded into the den. Moonlight pooled on the stone floor. She looked up and saw the starry sky. Straight wooden beams crisscrossed it. They must have held the roof up when the nest had been whole.
“How did you know about this place?” she called as Tigerheart followed her in.
“Flametail and I found it when we were apprentices.” He leaped up onto a rock jutting above a hole in the wall. “We used to play here.” With a second leap he was balancing on one of the crisscrossing logs. It was flat on each side, and he padded along as though he’d done it countless times before.
Dovepaw leaped up onto the jutting stone, her heart lurching as her paws slipped. Dust showered down while she shuffled to regain her balance. She eyed the log where Tigerheart had walked, judging the distance carefully, then leaped. It creaked as she landed, but the wood was rough and soft enough to sink her claws into. Chest pounding, she steadied herself and gazed down at the floor below.
“It’s not too far down,” Tigerheart called from the other end of the log. “Don’t be scared.” He flicked his tail, then jumped. In a long, arcing leap he seemed to fly from one log to another, landing solidly and turning to blink at Dovepaw. “Now watch this.” Without pausing, he leaped from one log to the next the entire length of the nest, then turned and bounded back as though he were leaping stepping-stones across a stream.
“Be careful!” Dovepaw gasped. With each jump her heart jumped too.
“That’s nothing!” he mewed, landing beside her. He glanced up to where two logs sloped upward and met at a point. Without warning, he reared on his hind legs and leaped, swinging by his claws from a sloping log before hauling himself up and scrambling to the peak.
“Stop it!” Dovepaw could hardly breathe. She couldn’t imagine another cat being so strong and nimble—or brave.
Tigerheart slithered down a sloping log and began springing back toward her. As he landed on a log next to hers, it creaked. The sound sent Dovepaw’s thoughts spinning back to the hollow when the beech—its great trunk groaning and splintering—had toppled into the camp.
“Watch out!” A shriek ripped from her throat. She leaped across the gap, clasping Tigerheart in her paws and sending them both hurtling to the floor. They landed with a thump on a soft pile of moss. Dust clouded around them.
Her eyes streaming and throat burning, Dovepaw wriggled her paws. “Are you okay?”
Tigerheart didn’t reply.
Oh, StarClan. Let him be okay!
“Tigerheart!”
“I think I’m okay.” A muffled voice sounded from beneath her. “But you’re going to have to get off me so I can find out.”
Mortified, Dovepaw wriggled away. “I’m sorry!” she squeaked. “I didn’t mean to land on you.”
Tigerheart sat up. He lifted one forepaw, then the other. Then he shook his head. “I’ll live,” he announced. His gaze was warm but puzzled.