Tigerclaw’s Fury

“Whitethroat will not die in vain!” cried Russetfur, and her Clanmates joined in with a wail of grief.

“ThunderClan got lucky today, that’s all,” Tigerclaw meowed when they fell silent. “This is not a battle that has been lost. Merely one that has been put off for a while.” He met Blackfoot’s gaze. The white tom seemed to understand what Tigerclaw was saying. What happened today would be reported to the rest of ShadowClan as a moment of tragedy for Whitethroat and a cause for revenge on ThunderClan when they had their chance. Fireheart’s days of leading his band of kittypet-lovers would soon be over.

Chapter 7

Gray, damp ferns brushed against Tigerclaw’s pelt as he walked through the forest. Above him, the sky was pitch-black, without the faintest glimmer of moon or stars. Yet somehow there was just enough light for him to make out the trunks of trees looming toward him and the trace of a path over the slimy ground. The air smelled rotten, like fungus or forgotten fresh-kill. The leaves above Tigerclaw whispered even though there was no wind, and a greasy mist seemed to ooze up from the soil and cling to the fur on his belly. Where am I? Tigerclaw wondered. Is this StarClan?

“No, this is the Dark Forest,” came a meow from behind him.

Tigerclaw froze. He knew that voice! It was the one that talked to him inside his head. Pelt standing on end, he slowly turned around.

A broad-faced she-cat stood among the ferns, her tortoiseshell-and-white fur patched and scarred from long-past battles. Her amber eyes gleamed like tiny gold moons; they seemed much brighter than the rest of the she-cat, and Tigerclaw was uncomfortably aware that he could see the leaves and ground on the other side of her.

“Welcome to the Place of No Stars, Tigerclaw,” the she-cat meowed.

“This isn’t StarClan, then?”

“Tchah!” The old cat spat. “Why would you want to go to StarClan? That place is full of weak-willed cowards who clung to the warrior code like ants to a leaf in a puddle. You will find much better company in the cats here, Tigerclaw.”

Tigerclaw shifted his paws. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

The she-cat purred; it sounded like two dead branches sliding together. “I have been watching you for a long time.” She padded forward and stretched out her head to sniff his flank. Tigerclaw tried not to flinch at the stench that came from her breath. “ShadowClan needs a fearless and powerful leader,” the old cat murmured. “You know you can give them everything they want, Tigerclaw. And after that… we will be waiting.”

She turned and started to walk away. “Stop!” cried Tigerclaw. “What do you mean, you’ll be waiting? I don’t even know who you are!”

The she-cat paused and looked back at him. “My name is Mapleshade,” she meowed. “I have walked beside you from the day you were born, guiding your paw steps, laying out your destiny before you. For now, you don’t need to know anything else. Much, much more lies ahead of us, Tigerclaw. Be patient, and you will find out everything.”

“Wait!” Tigerclaw tried to run after her, but the ferns tangled around his legs, and Mapleshade vanished into the undergrowth. With a start, he woke up, his fur still damp and carrying the scent of fungus and dying things.

“Ewww!” coughed Stumpytail, scrambling to the other side of the nest. “Did you roll in something bad yesterday?”

Tigerclaw stalked out of the den, ducking under the fallen trunk. “Don’t be ridiculous!” he hissed. “Come on, we need to get to the camp.”

Blackfoot bounded up beside him. “Has something happened? Did you have a dream from StarClan?”

Tigerclaw shook his head impatiently. “We just need to be there.”

He raced through the trees with Mapleshade’s words echoing in his ears: ShadowClan needs a fearless and powerful leader. You can give them everything they want. He heard the other cats panting and stumbling behind him, but he didn’t slow down until he reached the entrance to the camp. At once he heard a low, keening sound, many voices sharing one terrible note of grief.

Runningnose was standing in the middle of the clearing surrounded by cats huddled in misery. His tail dragged in the dirt, and he looked even older than he had the day before. He came to meet Tigerclaw and ushered him to the edge of the camp. “Nightstar died last night,” he murmured.

Tigerclaw lowered his head. “I am so sorry for your loss,” he mewed. “I hope he walks with StarClan now.”