“We can worry about that in the morning,” Tigerheart told him. “The sun will rise over there.” He nodded toward the hills where Spire had wanted to go. “We can head toward it then.”
Spire shifted his paws distractedly. “Not the dawn sun!” he snapped. “The orange sun!”
Tigerheart curled his tail around Spire. “We’ll find it tomorrow,” he soothed, tugging the skinny tom toward the meadow.
When they reached it, Spire settled in the roots of a rowan. Blaze walked up to Tigerheart, frowning. “He won’t relax until he finds it,” he warned.
“A belly full of food and a warm nest will calm him down,” Tigerheart promised, staring at Spire. His eyes were closed, yet he still seemed to be looking at something.
It’s just because he’s never had any cat to help him, Tigerheart told himself. Without a mentor, of course he can’t figure out what his visions mean. We are going the right way.
We have to be…
As Tigerheart drifted wearily toward sleep, the kits snuggled tighter around him. He could hear Dovewing’s tail flicking uneasily against the side of their makeshift nest. They’d hunted and swept leaves into piles to sleep on. Now the kits were asleep. Cinnamon and Ant were snoring gently, and Spire had stopped murmuring to himself at last.
Dovewing’s tail carried on flicking.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“How do you know this isn’t another vision about ShadowClan?”
He lifted his head and blinked at Dovewing. Her green eyes were shining in the moonlight. “There were no shadows in his vision,” he mewed.
“So you think only some of his visions are true?” Dovewing looked worried.
“I think StarClan used him to send me a message,” Tigerheart told her. “But you’ve heard him. Even he doesn’t always know which parts of his visions are useful.”
Dovewing’s gaze hardened.
“Then how do you know we’re right to be heading back to the lake? What if Spire doesn’t have a connection to StarClan after all?”
“He does!” Tigerheart belly knotted with frustration. “Or he did.”
Dovewing stood up, her tail straight and her eyes blazing with worry. “Tigerheart, what if we’re risking our kits’ lives for no reason—”
“Tigerheart!” Blaze’s anxious whisper sounded beside his ear. He turned to see the young tom staring over the side of the nest. “He’s gone!”
“Who?”
“Spire!” Blaze sounded frantic. “Spire’s gone! I left the camp to make dirt, and when I got back, his nest was empty. I think he’s gone to find the orange sun.”
“But it’s nighttime.” Tigerheart slid from among the kits. “How does he think he’ll find the sun?”
Blaze blinked at him, starlight shimmering on his pelt. “I told you we should have listened to him.”
“Did you know he’d go running off?” Tigerheart fluffed out his fur against the icy chill.
“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left him alone.” Blaze stared past the rowans and across the meadow. “I followed his scent. He headed that way.”
Tigerheart flexed his claws. He ached from the day’s walk. He didn’t want to spend the night hunting for a lost cat.
“We have to find him before he freezes.” Blaze’s breath billowed around his muzzle.
“Okay.” Tigerheart wasn’t going to let the skinny tom come to harm. He blinked at Dovewing. “Stay here with the kits. We’re going to look for Spire.”
Dovewing got to her paws, her fur rippling indignantly. “I’m coming too,” she growled. “You’re not the only warrior in camp.”
“What about the kits?”
“Cinnamon and Ant can take care of them.” Dovewing leaned into the nest and plucked Shadowkit by his scruff.
The dark gray kit murmured sleepily as she carried him to Ant and Cinnamon’s nest. “What’s happening?”
Dovewing placed him between the guardian cats. “You and your littermates are spending the night in Cinnamon’s nest,” she told him briskly.
Ant opened his eyes.
“Can you and Cinnamon take care of the kits?” Dovewing asked him. “Spire’s wandered off and we have to go and find him.”
Ant blinked at her sleepily. “Okay.”
Cinnamon lifted her head. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve got the kits tonight.” Ant yawned. “Spire’s wandered off.”
Cinnamon sat up, her eyes sparkling with worry.
Dovewing fetched Pouncekit and dropped her in the nest. “It’s okay,” she reassured Cinnamon. “We’ll find him and bring him back.”
Pouncekit looked around blearily. “What’s happening?”
Cinnamon wrapped her tail around the kit while Dovewing fetched Lightkit. “Don’t worry, little ones. Tigerheart and Dovewing are going to look for Spire. Go back to sleep.” She drew Lightkit close to her belly as Dovewing placed her beside Pouncekit.
“We’ll be back soon.” Dovewing blinked at the kits, who stared back like anxious owls. “Be good and go to sleep. And try not to fidget.”
“We’ll take care of them,” Cinnamon promised.
Ant stared across the meadow. “Spire can’t have gone far, and on a cold night like this, his scent should be easy to follow.”
“We’ll bring him back.” Dovewing turned her tail and joined Tigerheart.
Tigerheart could smell Blaze’s fear-scent. The young tom was pacing impatiently around him. “Come on.” He headed away from camp. “Show me where you picked up Spire’s scent.”
Blaze hurried ahead, sniffing at the ground. “It’s fresh, but he was running. Look how he’s scuffed the grass.”
Tigerheart saw the paw marks. Spire’s claws had kicked lumps from the frozen ground. He must have been moving fast. “He won’t be able to keep that pace up for long.” He broke into a trot. He was annoyed with the skinny tom. Spire had made him and Dovewing argue. Now he’d gotten him out of his warm nest in the middle of the night. It would do the dumb cat good to freeze a little.
Dovewing padded beside him as they crossed the moon-drenched meadow. Blaze kept a little way ahead, trying to push the pace but slowing each time he looked back and saw Tigerheart lagging. Tigerheart felt a prick of guilt as Blaze reached the foot of the hill. The young cat was worried. It wasn’t fair to let him suffer just because Spire was being difficult.
He picked up his pace, Dovewing trailing him as he caught up to Blaze. The slope grew quickly steeper. Heather sprouted among rocks as the grass grew rougher beneath his paws. Soon they were following a gritty trail between wind-hewn stones. “Can you still smell his scent?” he asked Blaze.
“Can’t you?” Blaze flashed him a look.
Tigerheart didn’t want to admit that the guardian cats smelled so much like the Twoleg tang that had infused their den, he’d never really been able to tell their scents apart. Only now that wind and rain had washed the city smell from them was he beginning to recognize Cinnamon’s and Ant’s smells when they were out of sight. He wondered, with a spark of alarm, if he’d have the same problem with his Clanmates when he got home. Would the pungent smell of pinesap overwhelm him now?
“Look!” Dovewing nudged his flank as she caught up to him. She was staring along the trail. The stones opened onto a rocky rise. Above it, an owl circled. “Maybe we shouldn’t have left the kits.” The owl was huge, its wingspan as long as a branch.
“They’re hidden beneath the rowans, and Cinnamon and Ant are with them,” Tigerheart told her, anxiety pricking in his pelt. “Besides, the owl’s here, not back there.”
Blaze fell in beside them, his gaze following theirs. “Why is it circling? Do you think it’s spotted prey?” He glanced at Tigerheart with round, frightened eyes, and Tigerheart guessed what he was thinking. A small, skinny tom like Spire would be easy for an owl that big to carry off.