Because they didn’t. He wasn’t really there.
He’d seen these same cats each time he visited the dream, and he was learning to recognize their pelts. Now a brown tom with white splotches and light blue eyes carried a bundle of fragrant-smelling leaves toward one of the dens. A skinny old tom slid out to greet him. “I’m glad you’ve come.” The old cat nudged him inside. “He’s been coughing all night.”
At the other side of the clearing, a tortoiseshell she-cat murmured anxiously to a large ginger tom. A pure white she-cat watched, her pelt ruffled. Behind them, three young cats shifted their paws uneasily.
The dreaming tom pricked his ears. These cats have never been this worried in their lives… and they don’t know what to do.
Anxiety was fluttering in his belly. Why did he dream of this place? What did it mean? As he wondered this, the forest blurred around him. The ground seemed to shift beneath his paws; then suddenly it fell away, and he swirled into darkness.
Stars spun around him until, with a jolt, he felt solid ground beneath his paws again. Soft green meadows rolled away from him on every side. Above him, a wide blue sky stretched to the distant horizon.
More cats. The dreaming tom blinked as he saw ranks of cats lined before him, their pelts sparkling with starlight and their eyes flashing eagerly. They were staring straight at him. His belly tightened with alarm. “How… how can you see me?”
A black she-cat stepped forward and dipped her head. Her fur was sleek, her frame well-muscled, as though she’d never known the hardships of hunger or cold. “Don’t be frightened,” she told him softly. “We mean you no harm.”
A broad-shouldered dark tabby tom joined her. “We need you to do something for us.”
“What can I do?” The dreaming tom stared at her. “I’m not like you cats…”
“You take care of those around you, don’t you?” the black she-cat asked.
“I do what I can to ease their illness and heal their wounds.”
The she-cat blinked slowly. “A cat who cares for others is special to us,” she mewed. “That is why we chose you to be our messenger.”
“Strangers will come to your home,” the broad-shouldered tabby chimed in. “They will need your help, just as we need it.”
Puzzled, the dreaming tom frowned. “And you need me to give them a message?”
“Not exactly,” the black cat meowed quickly. “But let these strangers guide your paws.”
The dreaming tom’s gaze drifted past the she-cat to the starry cats gathered behind her. Their eyes were fixed on him, burning with need. He backed away, his heart quickening. Why had they chosen him? “I don’t understand.”
“Please!” The black she-cat’s mew was tinged with fear. “If you don’t help…” Then her voice trailed away, and the vision of the starry cats and meadows began to dissolve into darkness. In its place the dreaming tom saw the forest clearing once more. But the bramble walls were torn, the dens ripped open. The tortoiseshell she-cat lay at the head of the clearing, blood oozing from wounds scarring her pelt. The three young cats he’d seen stumbled past. One collapsed, a gash showing across his belly. The old tom lay panting beside shredded branches. A brown cat was sitting nearby, so thin that his bones showed though his thin pelt. His pale blue eyes stared desolately at the fallen cats as though he were frozen to stone by their suffering.
With a jolt, the dreaming tom woke. The first thing he felt was the weight of the small tom-kit sleeping in the curve of his belly. He lifted his head and blinked into the darkness, his heart pounding. The kit whimpered and twitched, clearly having a dream of his own.
He wondered, just for a moment, if it was a similar dream.
“Rest, little one.” The tom leaned down and soothed the kit with a soft lap of his tongue. His dream lingered, unsettling him. If you don’t help… The black she-cat’s frightened words stuck in his mind. He tried to tell himself it was just a meaningless voice in his head. And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was important… He’d dreamed of the brambled clearing before, but his dream had never shifted to the dark place of starry cats. He wondered if it meant something. As the kit quieted and relaxed once more into deep sleep, the tom stared into the shadowy night. Dreams are just dreams. He tried to dismiss it. But this dream had felt too real to be ignored.
Chapter 1
Worry pricked at Tigerheart’s paws as he bounded between the pines, moving so fast he barely caught their scent.
I have to reach Dovewing…
He leaped over ragged roots, his tail slapping against tree trunks and his legs battering the long grass. His pelt prickled with anticipation, and his belly fur tingled with nerves.
He always grew tense when he got too far away from ShadowClan. It was still struggling to rebuild itself in the aftermath of the rogue leader Darktail’s meddling—first tempting away its younger members, then challenging Rowanstar for the leadership. ShadowClan had turned on its leader and chosen to follow the rogue. Rowanstar, Tawnypelt, and Tigerheart had abandoned the camp to Darktail and his “Kin,” and Darktail had proved himself even more brutal and vicious than Tigerheart could ever have imagined. Many ShadowClan cats had died or gone missing. Then RiverClan suffered as Darktail took his war to them. Eventually, all of the Clans joined together in fighting back, but even now, Tigerheart could not let himself relax. He was constantly worried that danger was out there somewhere.
Today, though, his biggest worry was that Dovewing wouldn’t wait for him.
He skidded down the slippery rise and jumped a ditch. The sun was starting to sink.
I miss her. I got too used to seeing her every day, he admitted to himself.
When Darktail’s rogues had driven them from their Clan, Tigerheart, Rowanstar, and Tawnypelt had sought sanctuary with ThunderClan. Living beside Dovewing every day, he’d felt the love he’d once tried to leave behind flaring anew. At first she’d kept her distance, but he knew that her old feelings had been stirred, just as his had been. And when they were sent on a quest to find Twigpaw, they grew closer than they’d ever been.
After ShadowClan had reclaimed its old territory, they’d made an agreement to meet—whenever they could—in the dappled glade on SkyClan land, just beyond the place where the ShadowClan and ThunderClan borders touched.
Tigerheart knew he was being disloyal to his Clan. He had told Rowanstar that he was going to patrol the border, and instead he was meeting Dovewing. The lie still felt sour on his tongue. Dishonesty was the last thing his Clan needed right now. Rowanstar had lost confidence in his leadership, and with so few cats, the whole Clan was stretched to its limit just keeping up hunting patrols and border patrols, let alone fortifying the camp against harsh leaf-bare weather. Food was scarce, and the shattered dens were still not ready for the first snow. Rowanstar needed his support now more than ever.
Tigerheart had been trying his best to restore his Clan’s confidence by backing up his father’s decisions and setting an example for his Clanmates, as their deputy. But the strain of such responsibility was tiring. Being with Dovewing let him forget his troubles for a while. With her, there was no need to carry the weight of his Clan. He could let the burden slip from his shoulders and simply be himself. Once he reached her, the anxious tingling in his paws would disappear.