“Oh, no,” Rowanclaw interrupted, shaking his head. “I don’t want to lead ShadowClan again. I’ve made that very clear. Besides . . .” He hesitated and then went on, “I’ve been dreaming about Tigerheart, and I haven’t given up hoping that one day my son will come back—especially since the medicine cats had the message about returning shadows.”
Tawnypelt gazed at him, her green eyes suddenly softened. “I hope that’s true,” she whispered.
“I’ll support Tawnypelt if she wants to do it,” Rowanclaw went on. “She was deputy, after all, after Tigerheart left.”
“That’s great!” Violetshine mewed, though she had the feeling that Rowanclaw wasn’t that enthusiastic. “So, Tawnypelt, what—”
“Of course, we would need approval from StarClan,” Rowanclaw interrupted. “In fact, Violetshine, why are you and Twigpaw the ones bringing this up? Where are the medicine cats?”
She was about to suggest going to find Puddleshine when she heard approaching paw steps, and turned her head to see Sleekwhisker and Yarrowleaf, now very heavy with her kits.
“We overheard,” Sleekwhisker mewed. “We’d love to see ShadowClan rise again!”
“Yes,” Yarrowleaf agreed, her yellow eyes shining with hope. “Imagine if my kits could be born into a revived ShadowClan!”
Every cat’s gaze went to Tawnypelt, who still looked undecided. “I’ll think about it,” she meowed, “provided that Puddleshine—”
She broke off at a loud gasp from Yarrowleaf.
“What’s wrong?” Tree asked.
“The kits aren’t going to wait for ShadowClan,” Yarrowleaf explained, her breathing fast and shallow. “I think they’re coming now!”
CHAPTER 12
Alderheart gave silent thanks to StarClan that Leafpool was recovering from the sickness, though she was still too shaky to return to her duties. Whitewing had also taken a turn for the better, and could be treated in the apprentices’ den with the other sick cats. Squirrelflight was responding well to his treatment and getting stronger every day.
However, for all his efforts, sickness was still rampaging through the camp. Molewhisker and Hollytuft had joined the sick cats in the apprentices’ den, and worst of all, that morning Jayfeather had started vomiting.
As Alderheart stood outside his den, a thin, chilly breeze started up, rattling the leaves of the trees at the top of the cliff. In the distance he spotted a crack of lightning, followed almost at once by a boom of thunder that echoed around the stone walls of the hollow.
Alderheart stiffened, his fur prickling with apprehension.
The breeze strengthened and became a powerful wind that scoured through the camp, flattening the ferns and throwing up dust from the earth floor. Fat drops of rain began to fall. Overhead, lightning cracked again, and thunder rolled out even closer than before.
“Take shelter!” Alderheart yowled to the other cats who were out in the camp, staring up at the sky with bristling pelts.
Seeing them dive for their dens, he whipped around and went back into his own den, wondering what he needed to do for all the sick cats. After the Great Storm, the Clan had worked out how to deal with another flood, but Alderheart wasn’t sure whether this would be a big enough storm to start evacuating the camp.
Slipping back into the den, Alderheart saw Leafpool sitting up in her nest, alarm in her eyes as she listened to the chaos outside. Jayfeather was resting with his nose on his paws, apparently asleep.
“Do you think we ought to start moving the cats into the tunnels?” he asked Leafpool.