by Erin Hunter
“The guardian cats?” Tigerheart blinked at her dumbly.
“These cats here.” Her gaze swept around the cave. “They take care of one another. And of strangers who need help or healing.” Her eyes rounded as she stared at him. “You see? My dream was right. I was meant to come here. Our kits will be safe.”
For how long? Tigerheart’s thoughts spiraled. Sure, the guardian cats seemed kind and helpful, like a whole Clan of medicine cats. But what about Dash, a cat who didn’t even understand that cats were stronger together? Or Floyd, Scrap, and Mae? They only thought of themselves. Was this really a good place to raise kits? How could they ever learn to become warriors if they were surrounded by strays and loners?
Dovewing was still looking at him, her eyes huge and dark, glittering in the shadows. She needed him to be strong. She needed him to be a warrior. She needed him to stand beside her.
“Our kits will be safe here,” he agreed. He stepped into the nest and curled around her, his belly softening as he felt the warmth of her pelt against his. He wrapped his tail tightly around her and tucked his muzzle behind her ear. “Your dream was right. It has brought us here.” The nest was comfortable, the furless pelts soft against his spine. He relaxed into them and closed his eyes. “Are you hungry?” he murmured sleepily as she snuggled into him, purring. “I’ll hunt for you soon. I want our kits to grow healthy and strong.”
“I can hunt,” she whispered. “There are plenty of mice around the gathering place.”
“But I want to get used to taking care of my kin.” Tigerheart’s words were slurred by sleep.
“You always have,” Dovewing murmured. “And you always will.”
Her scent filled his nose as he nuzzled deep into her fur. Happiness moved through him like a greenleaf breeze and seemed to lift him gently up. As he breathed softly and deeply, drawing in her warmth, he floated into sleep.
“Wake up, sleepypaws.”
Dovewing’s gentle mew nudged Tigerheart from his slumber. Dovewing! He’d found her. Fresh joy flooded him. He smelled the scent of mouse and opened his eyes. Surprise spiked through his fur as daylight flooded his gaze. It was morning! He’d slept all night. He lifted his head sharply. “I was going to hunt.” Confused, he gazed around the den. Slowly, memories of his arrival—the Thundersnake, Dash, the rot piles, the guardian cats—flooded back.
“I brought you this.” She nudged a mouse toward him. “You must be hungry.”
He was. His belly was as hollow as a deserted rabbit hole. He licked his lips. “But I was going to hunt for you.”
“Are you frightened you’ll forget how to catch a mouse?” Dovewing’s green eyes sparkled teasingly. She looked happy. “Don’t worry, Tigerheart. You’ll have plenty of chances to refresh your memory. There are a lot of mouths to feed here.”
Tigerheart followed her gaze around the cave. In the bright morning light, it seemed friendlier. But the smooth walls and shiny floor and Twoleg clutter still felt strange. He leaned closer to Dovewing. “We’re living in a Twoleg den. Don’t you find it odd?”
She shrugged. “Not anymore. Twolegs don’t use it,” she told him. “They meet upstairs every few days, but they don’t live there, and they never come down here.”
Tigerheart glanced at the flat, square ceiling. “But they built this den. Why don’t they use it?”
Dovewing hooked the mouse up with her claw and dropped it into the nest. “Stop worrying and eat.”
The mouse tasted musty. There was no forest sweetness in its flesh, but he was grateful for it. As he began to eat, Dovewing glanced over her shoulder. A skinny black tom was padding toward them. Dovewing climbed into the nest beside Tigerheart and pressed against him. Was she frightened of this tom? He didn’t look dangerous, and a small white-and-ginger kit was following him.
“Is this the cat you were talking about?” The kit wove excitedly around the black tom as he stopped beside the nest.
Tigerheart chewed his mouse, curiosity pricking in his fur. The black tom blinked at him slowly. There was a remote look in his eyes that made Tigerheart wonder what he was thinking.
“Yes. He must be the second one.” The tom’s gaze flicked over Tigerheart. “I was expecting two cats. Now they’re both finally here.”
Tigerheart frowned. What was he talking about? Had he known they would be coming? How?
Dovewing shifted beside him. “This is Spire.” She dipped her head. “He’s a healer here.”
The kit puffed out his chest. “He’s the best healer here. He knows things no other cat knows. And he dreams things. I’m Blaze, by the way. I help Spire. And he looks after me.”
Spire did not acknowledge the kit’s words. Instead he just turned and began to pad away, as abruptly as he had come.
Tigerheart blinked at the healer, swallowing his mouthful. He’d seemed interested in their arrival. Didn’t he want to stay and talk? “Nice to meet you,” he called.
But the tom didn’t seem to be listening. His head was tipped back, and he was staring into midair, mumbling to himself. Then he dropped his gaze and shook his head, as if answering a question only he could hear, asked by some cat only he could see.
Blaze hurried after him. “Are you hungry, Spire? Shall we go and look for food?”
Fierce padded past the kit. She flicked her tail fondly along his spine. “Go and ask Mittens to help you hunt,” she told him.
“Okay.” Blaze caught up to Spire and nudged him toward a tabby tom basking in a strip of sunshine.
Fierce headed toward Dovewing’s nest. Tigerheart swallowed the last morsel of mouse as she reached them. Cobweb and a tabby she-cat were with her.
“I see you’ve met Spire,” Fierce meowed.
“He said he was expecting us,” Tigerheart told her.
“Spire says a lot of things.” Fierce flicked her tail. “Most of it is nonsense. He gets confused. But we look after him. And he’s a good healer.”
“Blaze mentioned that.” Tigerheart looked across the cavern at the kit. He was nosing the tabby to his paws.
Fierce purred. “Blaze is good for him. Keeps Spire’s paws on the ground even though his thoughts are in the clouds. I have no idea why a kit wants to spend so much time with such a strange cat, but they take care of each other.”
Tigerheart looked at Dovewing. “You said Spire treated your fox bite,” he said. “Do you think he is a medicine cat?”
Dovewing shrugged. “I really don’t know. He says he has dreams . . . but I don’t think they come from StarClan. Sometimes it seems like he just sees things that aren’t there.” Her fur ruffled. “I just wish he didn’t keep looking at me like he knows something about me.” She looked up at Fierce. “And he was acting weird with Tigerheart just now, too.”
Fierce’s eyes rounded with interest. “Really?”
Beside her, the tabby she-cat’s ears twitched. “Sometimes Spire gets his weird dreams mixed up with reality. He probably thinks you can fly.” She purred at Tigerheart.
“This is Cinnamon.” Fierce introduced the brown tabby, who shifted her white paws shyly and dipped her head in greeting.
“Hi, Cinnamon.”
As Tigerheart nodded in return, Fierce blinked at Dovewing. “I’m glad your mate has come at last.” She turned to Tigerheart. “Dovewing’s told us about you.”
Tigerheart wondered guiltily what Dovewing had said. “I should have made the journey with her.” His pelt prickled self-consciously. Did they think he’d let her down?
“You’re here now,” Fierce meowed. “And I’m hoping you can help us. Dovewing says you’re a warrior too.”
Cobweb leaned forward. “She says all cats are warriors where you come from. She says you live in Clans. It sounds like a strange way of life.”
“No stranger than this.” Tigerheart glanced around the cavern. These cats were different from Dash and the rot pile cats. They understood what it meant to take care of one another. “How did you come to live like this?”
Fierce
shrugged. “Who knows? Sick cats come and go. Some of us with wounds that will never fully heal stay on.” She glanced at her short leg. “It’s safer to have friends. And we each do what we are best at. Some heal; some hunt; some guard.”
Cinnamon’s gaze flicked over Tigerheart. “He looks fit. He might be useful.”
“Of course he’ll be useful,” Dovewing lifted her muzzle proudly. “I just wish I could help too.”
Fierce looked at her sternly. “You need to worry about keeping those kits safe. Look what happened last time you tried to help.” She glanced at Dovewing’s shoulder wound.
Dovewing’s eyes flashed with frustration. “I didn’t think my belly would get in the way of my fighting moves.”
Alarm flickered in Tigerheart’s belly. “You’ve been fighting?”
“We’re having trouble with a fox,” Fierce told him.
“It’s stopping us from gathering herbs,” Cobweb explained.
Cinnamon flicked her tail-tip. “Dovewing said that a few warrior moves would get rid of it, but hers aren’t too good at the moment.”
“She tried to teach us some,” Cobweb chipped in.
“Dovewing is too close to kitting to train us properly,” Fierce meowed. She glanced over her shoulder at the cats moving around the cavern. “We’ve learned a few moves, but she says we’ll need to fight together if we want to drive off a fox.”
“It looks like you already work well together.” Tigerheart gazed around the Twoleg cave. Ant was waiting beside the drip-pipe with a wad of furless pelt to soak up water. A tortoiseshell she-cat was stripping tiny leaves from a twig and laying them on the side of Rascal’s nest. A brown-and-white tom was jumping down from the cave entrance beside the clear wall. A rat dangled from his jaws. He carried it to the nest where the sickly she-cat lay. “Where did you learn your medicine skills?”
“A stray named Pumpkin stayed with us. He’d lived with forest cats and learned that herbs could be useful,” Fierce explained.
Forest cats? Had Pumpkin stayed with a Clan? Tigerheart had never heard talk of such a cat. He wondered if Pumpkin might have stayed with SkyClan while they were still at the gorge.
Fierce went on. “He knew a few herbs and taught us what they looked and smelled like. Since then he’s moved on, and we’ve experimented with new herbs and found what works and what doesn’t. We realized that common sense is as important as herbs when it comes to treating the sick and injured. We’ve collected a lot of knowledge about healing. But fighting needs different skills. We were hoping you could teach us.”
That must have been why Spire was relieved he had come. He’d been hoping some cat would help them drive the fox away from the herbs.
“Well?” Fierce was staring at him.
Tigerheart dipped his head. He admired her directness. Her request was simple, and she offered nothing in return. How different she was from Dash. He was relieved that not all city cats were the same. “So the fox is keeping you from the herbs?”
“Nothing much grows here,” Cobweb chimed. “But we found a space where we can get nearly all the herbs we need. We’ve gathered leaves there for moons.”
Tigerheart nodded. “But now the fox has taken over the land.” He glanced at Dovewing’s wound. “Was it the same fox who did that?”
“Yes. We need to drive it away and gather herbs before the cold weather kills the plants.” Fierce looked at him unwaveringly. “Will you help us?”
“Of course.” If this place was going to be their home for now, Tigerheart would defend it as fiercely as he’d defend ShadowClan territory. “Show me this land. I want to know what we’re dealing with.”
He felt Dovewing stiffen beside him. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
“This patrol will just be to check out the fox’s territory,” Tigerheart told her. “Let’s find out whether it’s dug a den or is just passing through.” He looked at Fierce. “It may just be a youngster looking for somewhere to settle, or it could be a mother looking for somewhere to raise cubs. Whichever it is, it’s better to know. It could be serious trouble.”
Fierce dipped her head. “Thank you.” She turned toward the cavern entrance, flicking her tail decisively. “I’ll lead you there. Cobweb, Cinnamon, Ant.” She raised her voice as she called across the space to where the scarred brown-and-black tom was swallowing the last mouthfuls of a mouse. Ant looked up eagerly.
“We’re going to show Tigerheart the herb patch,” Fierce told him.
“Are we going to fight that fox?” Ant hurried to join them.
“Let’s check it out first,” Tigerheart told him. “Fighting foxes is one thing; driving them away for good is another.”
Fierce crossed the cavern and leaped onto the wooden ledge. As Tigerheart followed with the others, she scrambled through the gap beside the clear wall and disappeared outside. Tigerheart paused on the wooden ledge while Cobweb, Cinnamon and Ant filed past him. He glanced back at Dovewing. She was settling into her nest, yawning. Affection flooded him as he watched her curl into the old pelts. Her belly was swollen with his kits. Before long, they’d be a family. A purr rumbled in his throat. Thank you, StarClan, for guiding me here.
CHAPTER 15
Tigerheart followed Fierce, Ant, Cinnamon, and Cobweb, hardly daring to glance sideways for fear of losing them as they dodged between towering dens and teeming Thunderpaths. The howl of the city was even louder this morning. Twolegs swarmed everywhere. Clear walls reflected bright sunlight. Monsters barked and shrieked.
Hurrying after Cobweb, Tigerheart kept his ears pressed flat as they ducked beneath a sleeping monster and waited for a moment, then darted through a flood of monsters that had ground suddenly to a halt. How did they know when it was safe to cross? How did they remember the route? Scents overwhelmed him. The noise and movement disoriented him. He prayed he wouldn’t lose sight of the guardian cats. If he did, how would he ever find his way back to the gathering place and to Dovewing?
The thought alarmed him, and he focused even more determinedly on Cobweb’s tail as it disappeared around a corner onto a quieter stretch of stone.
Fierce slowed and glanced at the blue sky, which showed in a strip between the Twoleg dens on either side. Tigerheart felt like he was looking up from the bottom of a huge canyon. “Are we nearly there?” he asked. It seemed a long and dangerous route to the herb patch.
“The dens disappear at the end of this alley,” Fierce told him. “No more Twolegs, just monsters and Thunderpaths.”
Just monsters and Thunderpaths! She sounded so casual. “Won’t that be dangerous?”
“It’s okay,” Ant reassured him. “We know a safe route.”
Tigerheart glanced at the tom skeptically. Was any route safe in this place?
At the end of the alley, the land opened out. The Twoleg dens ended, and ahead of them stretched a maze of Thunderpaths. Monsters zipped along them, the air foul with their fumes. Tigerheart blinked in surprise as he saw a Thunderpath arching over the others. Its vast legs plunged wide stone paws into the earth below.
Cinnamon pointed her muzzle toward a green slope beneath the soaring Thunderpath. “That’s where the herbs grow.”
Tigerheart stared across the Thunderpaths twining between him and the herb patch. “How in StarClan do we reach it?”
“This way.” Fierce hurried along the side of a wide Thunderpath. Monsters whipped past them, tugging at his fur. Their roar made his ears tremble, but Tigerheart saw with a rush of relief that Fierce was heading toward a ditch beside the Thunderpath. There was a gap beneath it. A tunnel!
Excitedly, he followed Fierce, Cobweb, Ant, and Cinnamon into the dark hole. It was no bigger than a badger run. Its smooth, rounded walls echoed as they splashed through the shallow water running along the bottom of the tunnel. Tigerheart wrinkled his nose as he felt slimy stone beneath his paws and smelled the stench of ditch water. But at least it would get them safely to the other side of the Thunderpath.
Fierce led them from one
tunnel to another until, at last, they emerged on the green slope beneath the flying Thunderpath.
Tigerheart looked up nervously at the wide stone path that arced over their heads. Its wide leg was planted firmly at the top of the slope. Low bushes and grass sprouted against it. The slope was dotted with scrubby plants, their leaves dusty from the stench of the Thunderpath. “Are these the herbs you use? Don’t they taste bad?”
“We wash them before we use them to get the monster stink off,” Fierce told him.
Cobweb was already hurrying toward the stone leg, sniffing eagerly at one of the plants. “The willow herb is doing well.”
Ant wove around a dark green bush topped with white-and-yellow flowers. “The feverfew is ready for gathering.”
“At least foxes don’t eat herbs.” Fierce was glancing around the slope warily.
Tigerheart followed her gaze. He tasted the air, reaching for the scent of fox among the monster stench. He caught a whiff and stiffened. The smell was fresh. “We should stick close to one another,” he warned Fierce.
Fierce signaled to the patrol with her tail. “Let’s check the herbs once we’ve solved the fox problem.”
“But it’s night-chill already,” Cobweb meowed anxiously. “If we wait until ice-chill, the frost will have killed the freshest leaves.”
Tigerheart guessed that night-chill must be leaf-fall, and ice-chill was leaf-bare.
Fierce glanced along the slope. “We’re still half a moon away from frost.”
“If we’re lucky,” Cobweb argued. “If we don’t gather herbs soon, we’ll have to wait until warmingtime.”
Does he mean newleaf? Despite their strange words, these cats faced the same problems as medicine cats in the forest. Hadn’t Puddleshine been pressing Rowanstar to send out herb-gathering parties in the quarter moon before Tigerheart left?
“Let’s check the whole slope,” he suggested. “I want to find out if this fox has made a den. And I need to find more of its scent. I’m not sure if it’s a dog fox or a vixen.” A vixen would be harder to drive out, especially if she’d already dug a den.