“Wait!” Tigerclaw called as Tallpoppy folded gracefully onto the ground after a swift strike from Flintfang. Tigerclaw went over and narrowed his eyes at the brown she-cat. “Why did you roll over so fast? Even if you get knocked over, you still have a chance to grab your opponent with your teeth or claws. If you do this to a smaller cat, or can catch a bigger one off balance, you’ll bring them down too.”
“I’m sure Tallpoppy would do that in the heat of battle,” Flintfang puffed, licking the ruffled fur on his chest. “But we have our claws sheathed now!”
Tigerclaw glared at him. “And how will that help when it comes to a real fight? Unsheathe your claws, both of you, and start taking this seriously. If there’s a danger you might get hurt, you’ll both sharpen up your moves.”
Tallpoppy’s eyes widened. “That’s how Brokenstar made us train,” she mewed. “This is a practice, Tigerclaw, not the real thing. Why risk getting injured when we are at peace?”
“If you’re as good at fighting as you say you are, you won’t get hurt,” Tigerclaw growled. “Now, try that hind leg slice again, Flintfang, and give Tallpoppy something real to avoid.”
Flintfang launched himself at Tallpoppy again, and this time Tigerclaw could see his claws glinting amid the thick gray fur on his paws. But Flintfang retracted them a heartbeat before he lashed out at Tallpoppy’s hind legs, and once again she dropped to the ground without being touched. Tigerclaw shouldered Flintfang out of the way. “Let me try,” he ordered.
He waited until Tallpoppy was standing, then rushed her, unsheathing his claws and aiming for the soft part of her hind leg just above her paw. Tallpoppy screeched and flung herself away from him. Tigerclaw stopped and looked down at her as she twisted her head around to lick her bleeding leg. “You’ll react quicker next time, won’t you?” he challenged. Tallpoppy didn’t look at him; she just nodded and kept swiping at her torn fur.
“I don’t think that was necessary,” Flintfang began, but Tigerclaw silenced him with a flick of his tail.
“Let’s get back to the camp,” he meowed. “The hunting patrols should have returned by now.”
Stumpytail and Clawface had done an impressive job of stocking the fresh-kill pile. The cats swarmed around it, keeping their voices low out of respect for Nightstar but unable to hide their delight at such a good haul. Tigerclaw stepped forward just as Oakpaw was about to drag a shrew from the pile.
“I want to say something,” Tigerclaw announced. All around him, the cats fell silent. Tigerclaw gestured to the fresh-kill pile. “Every bite we take tonight is dedicated to the memory of Nightstar. ShadowClan has lost a noble leader, and my companions and I are honored to share your grief.” He bowed his head in a show of respect. In his mind, Mapleshade let out a rasp of laughter. Nightstar was weaker than a newborn kit. Don’t think these warriors didn’t know that.
“Thank you, Tigerclaw,” mewed Runningnose. His voice cracked. “We are honored to have you here—you and all your companions.” He stood a little straighter. “On behalf of my Clanmates, I would like to invite you to move into the camp. You have proven your loyalty to ShadowClan many times over, and it’s what Nightstar would have wanted. You belong here now, not outside our borders.”
Tigerclaw blinked. He had not expected this so soon, and he could tell by the startled whispers that Runningnose didn’t speak on behalf of all his Clanmates. Should he make Runningnose wait a little longer, until the whole Clan was desperate for Tigerclaw to join them permanently? You can win them over more quickly if you’re among them all the time, Mapleshade pointed out. Tigerclaw waited for one more heartbeat, then bowed his head. “You are very generous, Runningnose. If you are sure that this is what Nightstar would want, then we accept.” He lifted his head, daring the ShadowClan warriors to challenge something their leader seemed to approve through the words of his medicine cat.
Rowanberry stepped forward. “Welcome to ShadowClan, Tigerclaw.” She glanced fondly at Clawface. “And to those of you who have lived among us before, welcome home.”
There was a murmur of approval from some of the warriors, and Stumpytail and Dawncloud touched noses. Snag and Mowgli stood at the edge of the crowd, looking wary.
Tigerclaw raised his tail. “Runningnose, I have a great favor to ask. Please may I give my friends Snag and Mowgli warrior names? Only then will they feel as if this is truly their home. I am sure Nightstar would want the same.”
Runningnose nodded. “Of course, Tigerclaw. Please, go ahead and choose their names.”
Tigerclaw glanced around at the watching cats. “Only if your Clanmates agree,” he meowed. “After all, a naming ceremony should be performed by a leader. I don’t want to offend anyone.”
“I’m sure we’ll cope, Tigerclaw,” meowed Fernshade drily.
“We don’t want the other Clans asking questions at the Gathering about where these cats came from,” Wetfoot agreed.
Tigerclaw jumped onto the rock, ignoring the ripple of surprise from the ShadowClan warriors. “Snag, Mowgli, come here, please.” The massive ginger tom and the sleek brown cat padded forward until they were standing below him. Tigerclaw took a deep breath. “Snag, Mowgli, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”
The two cats bowed their heads.
“I do, Tigerclaw.”
“I do.”
“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior names. Snag, from this moment on you will be known as Jaggedtooth. StarClan honors your strength and your fighting skills, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan.” Tigerclaw reached down and rested his muzzle briefly on the broad orange head. Then he turned to the brown tom. “Mowgli, from this moment on you will be known as Nightwhisper. StarClan honors your stealth and your courage, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan.” Tigerclaw touched his head, and stepped back. “Clanmates, I give you Jaggedtooth and Nightwhisper!”
“Jaggedtooth! Nightwhisper!” cheered Stumpytail and Blackfoot. Other ShadowClan cats joined in, and the newly named warriors lifted their heads proudly.
“That’s not fair! They didn’t have to do any training!” grumbled a small voice from the back. Tigerclaw sought out Oakpaw and fixed him with a cold glare; the apprentice ducked his head and said nothing more.
Tigerclaw jumped down from the rock. “And now, Clanmates, we will honor our fallen leader Nightstar with the vigil that he deserves. Come, join me as we pay tribute to him.” He padded across to the small black shape that had tried so hard to give strength and leadership to ShadowClan after the defeat of Brokenstar. How did you ever think you would succeed in following him? Tigerclaw thought scornfully as he crouched by Nightstar’s head. He closed his eyes, listening as the rest of ShadowClan settled around him, pressing their muzzles against the cold, dusk-damp fur.
This Clan belongs to me now, Nightstar. Watch how I make it strong again, feared and respected throughout all the forest.
Chapter 9
“Tigerclaw, wake up!”
Tigerclaw stretched and opened his eyes, briefly confused by the tangle of brambles overhead instead of a smooth gray trunk. Then he remembered: He was in the ShadowClan camp now, not hiding in the wild woods like some kind of rogue. He rolled over, feeling the familiar glow of satisfaction. He and his companions had been in the camp for a quarter moon, leading their Clanmates in battle training, joining hunting and border patrols, constantly reassuring Runningnose that StarClan would choose a new leader soon…