Warriors: The Ultimate Guide

by Erin Hunter

  Tawnypelt was visited by Tigerstar in her dreams, just like Brambleclaw, but she refused to accept his offer of secret training because she knew her father would never help her achieve what she wanted most: security, peace, and loyalty to one Clan above all. Instead, she found this in Rowanclaw, who fathered her three kits: Flametail, Dawnpelt, and Tigerheart.

  Tawnypelt proved that being loyal didn’t mean treating all other cats as enemies. She stayed friendly with Brambleclaw and other ThunderClan cats and raised her kits to have the same sense of fairness. While Brambleclaw never completely escaped the shadow cast by their father, Tawnypelt lived her life entirely free of Tigerstar’s influence and reputation, with an independence and sense of purpose that Tigerstar himself would have been proud of.

  FLAMETAIL

  FLAMETAIL WAS THE SON of Tawnypelt and Rowanclaw, and littermate to Dawnpelt and Tigerheart. When he was an apprentice, but had not yet been given a mentor, Blackstar lost faith in StarClan and followed the advice of a rogue named Sol to let each cat choose his own path. Tawnypelt had no wish for her kits to grow up in a Clan that no longer listened to its warrior ancestors, so she took them to ThunderClan and asked for shelter. Flamepaw was particularly angry about Blackstar’s change of heart because he was on the verge of being apprenticed to Littlecloud the medicine cat, but all the same, he and his littermates were intrigued to meet Lionblaze, Jaypaw, and Hollyleaf, who were kin because their father, Brambleclaw, was Tawnypelt’s brother.

  When Jaypaw came up with the idea to fake a sign from StarClan, Flamepaw and his littermates were keen to help. When Blackstar was trapped by the uprooted saplings, Flamepaw was rewarded by the sight of Runningnose and Raggedstar visiting the forest to speak with the ShadowClan leader. This sealed his belief in StarClan and made him even more determined to become a medicine cat. After the apprentices returned to ShadowClan, he was indeed apprenticed to Littlecloud.

  He was faced with a lot of responsibility early on when Littlecloud became ill, but Flametail was confident in his skills and successfully treated his Clanmates after the battle with ThunderClan in which Russetfur died. On a visit to the Moonpool, Flametail was warned by Raggedstar’s spirit that a time of war was coming, and that the Clans would have to stand alone in order to survive. Littlecloud disagreed, refusing to believe that medicine cat allegiances across Clan borders could ever be threatened. But with Littlecloud confined to the elders’ den by his sickness, Flametail was able to convince Blackstar that they had to heed their ancestors’ warning and cut themselves off from the other Clans.

  As well as Raggedstar’s dire prophecy, Flametail started to experience dreadful visions of drowning, being engulfed in black water and trapped by ice. Even slipping into a shallow puddle brought these images crashing into his mind. He interpreted it as yet more warning that a terrible time of darkness was rising up to overwhelm the Clans and worked harder to prepare for the battle that seemed inevitable.

  Seeing that the young medicine cat was exhausted and haunted by his dreams, Dawnpelt and Olivenose persuaded Flametail to play a game of prey-stone on the frozen lake. The ice broke beneath Flametail’s paws, sending him down to a cold, watery death. He was aware of Jayfeather diving down to help him, and another, hairless, unfamiliar cat nudging Jayfeather away, back to the surface and the air. Flametail was left to drown and was forced to watch his Clanmates battle against the Dark Forest from his place in StarClan.

  TIGERSTAR’S NINE LIVES: STARCLAN MAKES ITS CHOICE

  RUNNINGNOSE REACHED THE DARK, yawning hole below the jagged peaks and stepped aside. “After you, Tigerclaw,” he murmured.

  Tigerclaw walked past the gray-muzzled medicine cat and stood at the mouth of the tunnel. Dank shadows that tasted of stone lapped at his paws. Above their heads, a sharp wind hurled itself against Highrocks, flattening the grass on the hillside and threatening to dash the few crows that challenged it back down to the ground. But Mothermouth was silent, waiting for cats to enter and have their lives changed beyond all measure.

  Tigerclaw had been here before, as an apprentice in ThunderClan. But this time was different. Now he came to claim his nine lives as the new leader of ShadowClan. He had arrived in the Clan after the death of their previous leader, Nightstar, who had left his cats confused, frightened, and still traumatized by Brokenstar’s bloody rule. If ever a Clan needed a strong leader, this was it. Tigerclaw bided his time, proved his value as a warrior and hunter, showed his adopted Clanmates that Bluestar had made him deputy of ThunderClan because she saw in him the skills of a future leader. The support of Blackfoot, Russetfur, and Boulder had been essential when it came to putting himself forward as Nightstar’s successor. After some tense discussion, the other cats were persuaded. And now, here Tigerclaw stood, on the brink of everything he had ever wished for. Leadership of a Clan. Authority over all his Clanmates. The power to wage war on his enemies.

  Sleep with one eye open, Fireheart. I am coming for you.

  Behind him, Runningnose stirred. “Tigerclaw, the moon is rising,” he meowed.

  Tigerclaw looked back at him, feeling his claws scrape against the stone. “StarClan will wait for me,” he growled. Of all the cats whose approval he had sought, Runningnose had proved the most difficult. Even now, Tigerstar wasn’t convinced of his loyalty. But medicine cats lived to serve their Clan, and Runningnose couldn’t oppose the wish of the majority.

  “StarClan might, but dawn will not,” Runningnose muttered.

  Tigerclaw let his front claws extend until they caught the moonlight. Runningnose blinked his rheumy eyes but stayed where he was. Tigerclaw snorted and turned back to the tunnel. He took a deep breath and walked into the shadows, letting the darkness wash over him like water until he was swallowed entirely. Now he was walking blind, using his whiskers to find the walls, setting each paw carefully on the cold, wet stone as the tunnel began to slope steeply down. He could hear Runningnose padding behind him, the medicine cat’s rasping breath echoing around the tiny space. Tigerclaw felt a flare of irritation. Who would trust a medicine cat who couldn’t cure his own sickness, anyway?

  Suddenly the sound of his paw steps changed, the walls fell away from his whiskers on either side, and Tigerclaw knew he had reached the cave where the Moonstone stood. He walked forward more slowly until he felt his muzzle brush against the icy crystal. Runningnose moved closer, until Tigerclaw could feel his hot breath on his flanks.

  “Lie down and touch the stone with your nose,” the medicine cat instructed.

  I know what to do, mouse-brain! Tigerclaw gritted his teeth and sank to his belly, wincing at the feel of the hard, cold floor. He rested his muzzle against the Moonstone and, in the same instant, a shaft of moonlight sliced through the gap in the roof, turning the crystal to dazzling white light. Tigerclaw’s heart leaped. StarClan is here!

  Runningnose settled himself beside Tigerclaw. The warrior tried not to recoil from the stench of old herbs on the medicine cat’s ungroomed pelt. “Don’t be alarmed,” Runningnose began, “if our ancestors do not come to you.”

  Are you blind? The Moonstone is alight with them!

  “When I brought Nightpelt here,” Runningnose went on, “things were . . . not as we expected. StarClan did not approve of him as our leader because Brokenstar was still alive. It was a very difficult moment.”

  Tigerclaw resisted the urge to claw the ears of the foolish old cat. Everything was different this time. “But we know that Brokenstar is no longer alive,” he meowed. “And ShadowClan themselves have asked me to lead them. Will their ancestors deny the wish of their living Clanmates?”

  Runningnose whispered something that might have been a prayer, then mewed out loud, “StarClan knows our destiny better than any of us.”

  And that destiny is my leadership! Tigerclaw was in no mood to continue debating with the fretful medicine cat. He closed his eyes and felt himself being tugged gently into sleep. Almost at once a cool breeze stirred his fur, scented with pine needles and a mustier tang o
f marsh water. Tigerclaw blinked and looked around. He was standing at the edge of a forest thick with pines, lapped by a broad expanse of tussocky grass. “I’m . . . I’m in ShadowClan!” he gasped.

  A cat stepped out of the trees. “Not exactly,” it purred. “This is our version of ShadowClan.”

  Tigerclaw looked closer at the newcomer. He was a dark gray tom with a white belly and eyes the color of heather. His fur was shot through with starlight, and Tigerclaw could see the outline of tree trunks behind his misted flanks.

  “I am Cedarstar,” meowed the StarClan cat. “Welcome.”

  Tigerclaw let out a long breath, suddenly aware of the tension that had made his fur lift along his spine. StarClan welcomes me! “Are there others?” he asked. I need nine lives, not one!

  Cedarstar gestured with his tail to the edge of the woodland. The shadows sparkled with light as, one by one, a long line of cats stepped forward and nodded to Tigerclaw. The warrior stood and stared. They have come!

  A small, ginger she-cat padded forward until she was barely a mouse-length from Tigerclaw’s muzzle. He flinched when he realized he couldn’t feel her breath on his nose, then reminded himself that these cats no longer lived the way he did.

  “We have waited a long time for you,” meowed the she-cat. “My name is Littlebird, and I died without being able to save my Clan from Brokenstar. Now my Clan can be strong again.”

  Tigerclaw bowed his head. “If you will help me, then I will lead your Clan to greater victories than it has ever known before.”

  “Victory isn’t everything,” Littlebird mewed lightly. “Sometimes peace brings greater rewards.”

  Believe that if you wish. Once I am leader, I will use your former Clan to seek revenge on every cat who has ever wronged me.

  Littlebird leaned forward and pressed her muzzle against Tigerstar’s head. She had to stretch on tiptoe to reach. “I give you a life for compassion,” she murmured. “Try to understand what is important to other cats, not just yourself, and let that guide your paws.”

  In an instant, Tigerclaw’s mind whirled with countless images of cats in pain, joy-filled cats, cats wailing in terror or hissing with fury. He staggered, overwhelmed by the emotions that poured into him from all sides, and deafened by the noise inside his world.

  “Be strong, Tigerclaw,” Littlebird whispered. “It takes more courage than you know to feel what other cats do.”

  Tigerclaw straightened up. If I am the leader of my Clan, and my word is law, why should I concern myself with what my Clanmates think? My duty is to lead them; theirs is to follow. “Thank you, Littlebird,” he meowed out loud.

  The ferns behind Littlebird stirred and a tiny shape slipped out. Not much bigger than a newborn kit, with a black-and-white pelt that glowed in the half-light, the cat trotted up to Tigerclaw and craned its neck to look up at him. “I am Badgerfang!” he squeaked.

  Tigerclaw snorted. “Are you sure? You’re the smallest warrior I’ve ever seen!”

  There was a flash of anger in the little cat’s eyes that belied his fragile size. “I died as Badgerpaw when I was four moons old. Brokenstar forced me and my littermates to fight in battles before we should even have become apprentices. But I fought bravely and gave my life to save my Clan. Because of that, my mentor, Flintfang, said I could choose my warrior name.”

  Tigerclaw nodded. “Fine. So what life can you give me?”

  Badgerfang blinked. “Be patient,” he warned. “Your lives will come as we wish to give them, not as you wish to receive them.” He took a step closer and stretched up until his muzzle brushed Tigerclaw’s chin. “I give you a life for training your young cats wisely. Train them when they are strong enough to survive their first battle, and encourage them to listen to many cats, including the elders, to learn the most from their Clanmates’ histories.”

  Tigerclaw felt a rush of warmth flood through him, filled with the chattering voices of tiny kits. He recognized his own eagerness to leave the nursery and start training, and he curled his lip with amusement. Oh, I will train my young Clanmates, he vowed. They will soon know they belong to the most powerful Clan in the forest and deserve nothing but victory in every battle!

  Badgerfang trotted away, casting a shadow no bigger than Tigerclaw’s front paw, and another cat stood before him. Tigerclaw stared in disbelief at the tall, ginger cat who fathered him. “Pinestar!” he breathed.

  The red-furred tom nodded. “Yes, although that is not the name I had when I died.”

  Tigerclaw felt his claws unsheathe and sink into the soft earth. “Because you were a kittypet,” he snarled.

  “That was my choice for my final life,” Pinestar agreed. “But I walk with our ancestors for tonight to give you a life for being aware of what goes on beyond Clan borders. There are good cats everywhere, Tigerclaw. Do not forget that.” He leaned forward and brushed Tigerclaw’s nose with his own.

  A flurry of images flashed into Tigerclaw’s mind, of green fields, lazy swollen rivers, Twolegplaces made of hard red stone, crisscrossed with Thunderpaths and humming with the sound of monsters. He shook his head to clear it. “I will be loyal to my Clanmates above all others,” he growled.

  Pinestar inclined his head. “The warrior code demands nothing less. But do not assume that every other cat is an enemy or unable to help you in some way.” He turned to leave, then looked back. “I am proud of you, my son,” he mewed. “When I left the forest, I thought I would never see you again. But here you are, leader of ShadowClan. Perhaps not the choice I would have made,” he added wryly, “but you have traveled a hard path to get here, and you deserve your reward.”

  And I did it all without you, Tigerclaw hissed inside his mind. His pelt prickled at the thought that his father—the treacherous warrior-turned-kittypet—dared give him—loyal to the last, nothing but warrior blood running in his veins—one of his lives. I won’t mind losing that one in battle, he thought.

  The next cat to face him was a small, pale gray she-cat that Tigerclaw didn’t recognize. As if reading his thoughts, she meowed, “You won’t know me, Tigerclaw. My name is Whitetail. I walked in these woods long ago, before you were even dreamed of. But if we had met before, would you have noticed me, I wonder?”

  Surprised, Tigerclaw looked more closely at the she-cat. Her head only just reached his chest, and her pelt hung loosely on her bony frame. If he had encountered her in the midst of a battle, he would have flung her aside with a flick of his paw as if she was nothing more than a moth in his way.

  Whitetail didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I give you a life for understanding that size isn’t everything. Strength does not always mean power, and you should respect your enemies, whatever they look like.” She touched her muzzle to his chest, and Tigerclaw felt a strange calm spread through him, cold and heavy like water on his fur. To his dismay, he started to shiver—not just from cold but from fear as well. What was he frightened of? He sank his claws deeper into the ground to hold himself still.

  Whitetail looked up at him. “Beware the small cats,” she whispered, then turned and walked back into the shadows.

  A long-legged, light brown tabby came next, introducing himself as Sedgestar, leader of ShadowClan when there were still five Clans in the forest. He was so old, Tigerclaw could clearly see the trees behind him through his misty outline. But his voice was strong and steady as he rested his muzzle on Tigerclaw’s head.

  “I give you a life for pride in ShadowClan, knowing they can stand alone through any challenge. ShadowClan needs no allegiances, no help from other Clans when times are hard. Your cats will always find a way to survive if you give them a chance, Tigerclaw.”

  This life made Tigerclaw feel as if he was growing from the inside, taller than a fox, broader than a badger, filled with the certainty that ShadowClan was the strongest of all. Whatever happened in the forest, ShadowClan would emerge victorious!

  A ginger-and-white she-cat with gentle eyes took Sedgestar’s place. “I am Flowerstar,” s
he meowed. “Like you, I was not the deputy to the previous leader of ShadowClan. That leader, Brightwhisker, died on her first night of leadership, before she had a chance to receive her nine lives and before she could appoint a new deputy. Our medicine cat, Redscar, found a sign from StarClan—the stalk of an early-blooming snowdrop—that showed our ancestors wished for me to become the next leader.” She leaned closer and pressed her sweet-scented nose to Tigerclaw’s cheek.

  “I give you a life for placing all your faith in StarClan,” she murmured. “Trust your warrior ancestors, let them guide you when all seems dark, and honor them with your loyalty for all your lives.”

  Tigerclaw’s pelt lit up with starlight, and he tingled all the way to the tip of his tail. There was fierceness in this life, but also the warmth of a mother’s belly fur, all shot through with sparkling light.

  Flowerstar stood for a few moments more with her face against Tigerclaw’s, until a soft cough from behind made her step aside. A reddish-brown tabby pushed his way forward, and Tigerclaw winced when he saw the jagged scar that stretched from the tabby’s ear down the line of his jaw.

  “My name is Redscar,” mewed the tabby. He looked over his shoulder to check that Flowerstar had disappeared back into the trees. “I am the medicine cat who told Flowerstar that StarClan had chosen her as our leader. But you need to know something: I faked that sign. I picked the snowdrop, severed the blossom, placed the stalk where I could find it in the middle of the camp and announced to everyone that our ancestors had spoken. We needed a leader, and I found them one.” His pale eyes looked hot and feverish as he shuffled forward to wedge his muzzle against Tigerclaw’s chin. “Listen to StarClan, but do not let that deafen you to your own senses. I give you a life for trusting your own instincts as well. StarClan will guide you, but only you, as leader, can steer the paws of your Clanmates.”