Path Of A Warrior

“A storm’s coming,” Stoneteller said, “and it is just warm enough to bring rain, not snow. Stay away from the cave entrance until it passes.”

The cats were finishing their meal and breaking into smaller groups, the kit-mothers gathering their kits and heading for the nurseries. Other cats were settling down in the nests dug in the dirt floor at the edges of the cave.

“We should sleep, too.” Dovewing yawned. Tawnypelt’s paws ached with tiredness; it had been a long day.

“I think that Shadowkit should sleep in the Cave of Pointed Stones so that I can watch over him,” Stoneteller said.

Dovewing looked at her kit, her gaze uneasy. “He’s used to sleeping with me in the nursery,” she said slowly.

“Perhaps we could all sleep in the Cave of Pointed Stones?” Tawnypelt suggested, and Dovewing let out a sigh of relief.

“Of course,” Stoneteller agreed, then added, “but a kit with such strong visions will travel far from his mother one day.”

Dovewing’s eyes widened with alarm. Tawnypelt brushed her tail across Dovewing’s back. “But not yet,” she whispered, and Dovewing twitched her ears gratefully.

We lose our kits soon enough, Tawnypelt thought, thinking of Dawnpelt and Flametail, gone to StarClan. And Tigerstar, who had been a full-grown cat for a long time now. Let Dovewing keep hers just a little longer.

They settled on nests of eagle feathers and moss in the Cave of Pointed Stones, steering clear of the crack in the ceiling through which rainwater streamed. Tawnypelt shut her eyes. Outside, thunder rumbled, and inside, the water dripped steadily. She could hear the waterfall pounding outside, more powerful than ever. The steady rushing rhythm lulled her to sleep.

“No! No!” High-pitched screeching—a kit in trouble—jolted Tawnypelt out of her sleep.

“Shadowkit?”

“Shadowkit!”

She and Stoneteller jumped from their nests and rushed toward the kit. Moonlight showed Shadowkit, fur on end, standing in his nest, his eyes stretched wide with horror. Beside him, Dovewing seemed frozen in alarm.

“We have to get them out!” he yowled. “Every cat has to get out of the cave! Now!”

Chapter Seven

“Get out! Get up! Now!” Shadowkit’s frantic yowls echoed through the main cave as he burst out of the tunnel from the Cave of Pointed Stones.

Tawnypelt pounded after him, Dovewing and Stoneteller close behind.

“You have to get out of the cave!” Shadowkit screeched, running to the closest nest and leaping on the huddled figure inside. The cat in the nest—Lark, Tawnypelt thought—gave a startled squeak and pushed him away.

All around the edges of the cave, confused voices rose from different nests.

“What’s going on?”

“Who is that?”

“Shadowkit? Are you having a bad dream?”

“Go back to sleep!”

Tawnypelt was nearly close enough to grab the kit by the scruff, but suddenly he reversed course, wriggling underneath her and racing from one nest to another, pummeling the cats with his paws. “You have to leave the cave! Now! You’re in terrible danger!”

They’re not going to listen to a kit. Tawnypelt ran forward and shook the cat in one of the nests. “He’s not just dreaming,” she said. “You have to wake up.”

She could hear Dovewing waking another cat. “I’m sorry, but we have to get moving.”

Stoneteller’s voice rose above the commotion in the cave. “Every cat on your paws. Shadowkit has had a vision that we are in danger.”

Obediently, the Tribe cats began to climb out of their nests, blinking and yawning in the near darkness. A to-be ran off down a side tunnel and returned with a few kit-mothers, their kits whining sleepily around their paws.

“A vision?” Bird meowed. “Why would a cat from the Clans have a vision about us? The Tribe of Endless Hunting doesn’t have anything to do with the Clans.”

“We don’t really have to leave the cave, do we?” Pine yowled anxiously, and several cats chimed in.

“It’s pouring!”

“Listen to the thunder out there! Can’t we wait until the storm lets up?”

A flash of lightning lit up the cave, and every cat flinched. The rain outside intensified.

“Shadowkit was sent here for a reason,” Stoneteller meowed solemnly, raising his voice to be heard over the storm. “Even though I don’t quite understand either, I think we need to listen to him. We must leave the cave.” He led the way toward the cave mouth, his head ducked low against the water blowing in. Behind him, the cats looked at one another in shock, then slowly began to follow.

The Teller of the Pointed Stones never leaves the cave, Tawnypelt remembered, a sense of relief washing over her. Stoneteller must really believe in Shadowkit’s vision. I was right to bring him.

Something pressed against her side, and she looked down to see Shadowkit gazing up at her.