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PROLOGUE
Inside the kennel-that-moves, everything was dark. The pack leader could hear the scrabbling of claws and feel the sleek pelt of the dog next to him, but he could see nothing. Dog scent filled his nostrils, and beyond that the smell of the burned forest.
The pack leader sat uncomfortably on the vibrating floor until the kennel-that-moves bounced to a halt. Outside, he could hear Man voices. He understood some of the words. “Fire…keep watch…guard dogs.”
The pack leader picked up the Men’s fear-scent, along with the bittersweet smell of cut wood. He remembered coming here the night before, and the night before that, more than four paws’ worth of nights. He had prowled the compound with the rest of the pack, sifting through the scents for intruders, ready to drive them away.
The dog snarled softly, his lips drawn back from sharp teeth. The pack was strong. They could run, and kill. They craved warm blood, and the terror-scent of prey before it died. But instead they were penned up, they ate the food the Man threw to them, and they obeyed the Man’s orders.
The dog rose to his powerful paws, rattling the doors as he butted them with his massive black-and-tan head. He lifted his voice in a bark that sounded all the louder in the confined space. “Out! Pack out! Out now!”
The rest of the pack added their voices. “Pack out! Pack run!”
As if in answer, the doors of the kennel-that-moves were flung open. In the twilight the pack leader could see the Man standing there, barking an order.
The leader jumped down first, close to a pile of logs stacked in the middle of the compound. His paws threw up little puffs of ash and soot. The rest of the pack followed in a stream of black-and-brown bodies. “Pack follow! Pack follow!” they barked. The leader padded restlessly along the fence that separated them from the forest. Beyond the fence, burned-out tree trunks leaned against each other or lay on the ground. Farther away a barrier of undamaged trees rustled in the breeze.
Scents flowed enticingly from the leaf-thick shadows. The dog’s muscles tensed. Out there, in the prey-filled forest, the pack could run free. There would be no Man to chain or command them. They would feed as often as they wanted, because they would be the strongest and most savage of all.
“Free!” the lead dog barked. “Pack free! Free soon!”
He walked up to the fence and pressed his nose against the mesh links, drawing the smells of the forest deep into his lungs. Many of the scents he had never smelled before, but there was one he knew well, stronger than the rest, the scent of his enemy and his prey.
Cats!
Night had fallen; the leafless branches of the blackened trees were silhouetted against a full moon. In the darkness the dogs ranged to and fro, deep shadows in the night. Paws padded softly among soot and sawdust. Muscles rippled under shining coats. Their eyes gleamed. Their jaws were parted, revealing sharp teeth, and their tongues lolled.
The pack leader sniffed along the bottom of the fence, searching for a special place on the opposite side of the compound from where the Man stayed at night. Three nights ago the dog had discovered a narrow hole leading under the fence. He knew at once that this would be the route to freedom for the pack.
“Hole. Where hole?” he growled.
Then he spotted the place where the earth floor of the compound fell away into a hollow. One massive paw scraped at the ground. The dog raised his head to bark to his followers. “Here. Hole, hole. Here.”
He could feel their eagerness in his own mind, sharp as thorns, hot as carrion. They came bounding up to the lead dog, answering his bark. “Hole. Hole.”
“Bigger, hole bigger,” the pack leader promised. “Run soon.”
He began scraping at the ground again with all the strength in his lean, powerful body. Earth scattered as the hole under the chain-link fence grew wider and deeper. The remaining dogs milled around, snuffling at the night air that carried scents from the forest. They drooled at the thought of sinking their teeth into the warm bodies of living prey.
The pack leader stopped, ears pricked for the sound of the Man coming to check on them. But there was no sign of him, and his scent drifted from far away.
The lead dog flattened himself on the ground and squirmed down into the hole. The bottom of the fence scraped along his pelt. The dog thrust hard with his hind paws, propelling himself forward until he could scramble up and stand in the forest outside.
“Free now,” he barked. “Come! Come!”
The hole grew deeper still as each dog forced his way through, to stand beside his leader among the burned-out trees. They padded back and forth, pushing their muzzles into the holes at the roots of trees, gazing into the darkness with eyes that glowed with a cold fire.
As the last dog dragged itself under the fence, the pack leader raised his head and let out a triumphant bark. “Run. Pack free. Run now!”
Turning toward the trees, he bounded away, powerful muscles working in a smooth rhythm. The pack streamed behind, their dark shapes flashing through the forest night.
Pack, pack, they thought. Pack run.
The whole of the forest was theirs, and in their minds, there was a single instinct. “Kill! Kill!”
CHAPTER 1
Fireheart’s fur bristled with disbelief and fury as he gazed up at the new leader of ShadowClan standing on the Great Rock. He watched as the cat swung his massive head from side to side. Muscles rippled under his gleaming pelt and his amber eyes seemed to glow with triumph.
“Tigerclaw!” Fireheart spat. His old enemy—the cat who had tried to kill him more than once—was now one of the most powerful cats in the forest.
The full moon rode high above Fourtrees, shedding its cold light over the cats of the four Clans, assembled there for the Gathering. They had all been shocked to learn of the death of Nightstar, the ShadowClan leader. But no cat in the forest had expected that ShadowClan’s new leader would be Tigerclaw, the former ThunderClan deputy.
Beside Fireheart, Darkstripe was rigid with excitement, his eyes glittering. Fireheart wondered what thoughts were going through the mind of his black-pelted Clan mate. When Tigerclaw had been banished from ThunderClan, he had invited his old friend to go with him, but Darkstripe had refused. Was he regretting that decision now?
Fireheart caught sight of Sandstorm weaving her way toward him. “What’s going on?” the pale ginger she-cat hissed as she came into earshot. “Tigerclaw can’t lead ShadowClan. He’s a traitor!”
For several heartbeats, Fireheart hesitated. Shortly after he had joined ThunderClan, Fireheart had discovered that Tigerclaw had murdered Redtail, the deputy. Once Tigerclaw became deputy himself, he had led rogue cats to attack the ThunderClan camp, trying to murder their leader, Bluestar, so that he could take her place. As punishment, he had been banished from their Clan and the forest. It was hardly a noble history for a leader of any Clan.
“But ShadowClan don’t know about all that,” Fireheart reminded Sandstorm now, keeping his voice low. “None of the other Clans know.”
“Then you should tell them!”
Fireheart glanced up at Tallstar and Crookedstar, the leaders of WindClan and RiverClan, respectively, who stood beside Tigerstar on the Great Rock. Would they listen if he told them what he knew? ShadowClan had suffered so much from Brokentail’s bloodthirsty leadership, followed by a devastating sickness, that they probably wouldn’t care what their new leader had done, as long as he could forge them into a strong Clan again.
Besides, Fireheart couldn’t help feeling a guilty relief that Tigerclaw had satisfied his hunger for power in a different Clan. Maybe now ThunderClan could stop waiting for him to attack, and Fireheart could walk the forest without constantly glancing over his shoulder.
Yet, as he struggled with his conflicting emotions, he knew that he would never forgive himself i
f he let Tigerclaw come to power without even making a protest.
