by Erin Hunter
Tigerheart dipped his head as he reached her. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he meowed gently.
She turned on him. “You’re probably glad to see one of us gone,” she snapped.
Tigerheart shifted his paws. He had to handle this conversation carefully. “I’m never glad to see a cat fall into Twoleg paws,” he meowed. “I’m a warrior. I believe all cats should live free.” He caught Tuna’s eye. “But now you see that this is a dangerous place to live.” Tuna shifted his paws. “Perhaps you and your friends would be safer in your old home.”
“How could we be?” Fog demanded. “It’s full of foxes.”
Tigerheart changed tack. “Did you see us training earlier?”
“Do you call jumping around on the grass ‘training’?” Fog grunted.
“We wondered what you were doing.” Tuna looked curious.
“We were practicing battle moves, so we could drive the foxes away from your old home,” Tigerheart explained.
“Battle moves?” Tuna tipped his head.
“Where I come from, all cats learn how to fight,” Tigerheart told him. “We have to fight badgers and foxes and sometimes hawks. It takes special training to learn to fight bigger creatures.”
Fog glared at him. “There are five foxes living in our camp. Do you think that bunch of featherbrains will be able to fight them?”
Tigerheart felt his paws dig into the earth. Five foxes certainly sounded terrifying—but if he could convince Fog that he wasn’t scared, then maybe she’d believe that her cats stood a chance. “We could if you and your friends fought beside us.” He searched her gaze hopefully.
Tuna glanced at her. “We’d outnumber them,” he meowed.
“They’re foxes!” Fog snapped. “They could strip the fur off your muzzle and crush your spine in their jaws.”
“Not if I taught you how to fight.” Tigerheart’s chest tightened with hope. “And once you learned, you’d always be able to defend your land. You’d be safe forever.”
Tuna blinked encouragingly at Fog. “It would be nice not to have to sleep in grass nests anymore.”
“It would be nice to keep my pelt,” Fog growled. “I’m not risking it fighting foxes. Can’t you see? He’s trying to trick us.” She flicked her nose dismissively toward Tigerheart. “He wants us gone, and he’s willing to do anything to get rid of us, even if it means feeding us to foxes.”
“It sounds like a good plan,” Tuna persisted.
“It is a good plan,” Tigerheart pressed. “Two groups of trained cats could fight a whole pack of foxes.”
“Really?” Fog sneered at him. “In that case, train your friends. I’m not risking mine. If you manage to drive the foxes away, we’ll go home.”
Tigerheart’s belly twisted with disappointment, but he squared his shoulders. He wasn’t going to let this rogue-hearted stray think she’d won. “Do you promise?”
Fog looked at him warily. “Promise what?”
“That you’ll leave here and go home if we drive away the foxes.”
“Sure.” Fog turned her tail on him. “I promise.”
He watched her walk away, his heart sinking. The guardian cats could never fight five foxes alone. If only there were another way to get rid of them . . .
CHAPTER 25
“Fierce!” Mittens’s yowl woke Tigerheart. He jerked up his head as the tabby tom jumped down from the entrance.
Dovewing opened her eyes and blinked anxiously at Tigerheart. “What is it?”
“I’ll find out.” Tigerheart slid gently from beneath Shadowkit and Pouncekit, who were sleeping on his flank. They murmured but didn’t wake as Dovewing scooped them close to her belly. He climbed quietly out of his nest, fluffing out his fur as he stepped into the chilly air. Most of the guardian cats were still sleeping. Soft dawn light filtered thought the clear stretches of wall. Fierce sat up sleepily in her nest as Mittens reached it.
The tabby glanced over his shoulder as Rascal squeezed through the entrance. “Did you find any more?” he called.
“Three.” Rascal hurried to Fierce’s nest.
“Find more what?” Fierce gazed blearily at the two toms.
“Traps,” Rascal meowed.
Tigerheart hurried to join them.
“The Twolegs have been back,” Mittens reported. “Their scent is so fresh they must have only just left.”
“They’ve taken all the traps we closed.” Rascal’s pelt prickled nervously.
“They’ve left new ones,” Mittens told her.
“Bigger ones this time,” Rascal chimed.
“Big enough to trap a fox.” Mittens’s eyes were dark with worry.
Tigerheart reached Fierce’s nest and glanced around the three cats. “Could we close them all again?”
Mittens flicked his tail. “What good would that do? They’d only bring more.”
Fierce gazed anxiously around the den. “Perhaps it’s time we moved on.”
“Where to?” Mittens demanded. “This is the quietest part of the city.”
Fierce’s pelt was still ruffled by sleep. It prickled along her spine. “I don’t know,” she mewed irritably. “I thought this place was safe.”
“It was, until Fog and her gang arrived,” Rascal growled. “The Twolegs didn’t know we were here.”
“We need to get rid of her,” Mittens grunted.
Fierce looked at Tigerheart. “What about your plan to get her cats to help us fight the foxes?”
Tigerheart shifted his paws. He hadn’t told the guardian cats about his conversation with Fog yet. “I asked her,” he confessed. “She said no. She said she’d go back to her old home if we drove off the foxes, but her cats won’t help us.”
“Did you find out how many foxes there are?” Fierce asked.
“Five,” Tigerheart told her.
Mitten’s tail twitched angrily. “We can’t drive off five foxes alone!”
Rascal looked up at a clear stretch of wall, narrowing his eyes against the light outside. “Perhaps we should fight Fog and her friends,” he grunted.
“We should shove them into those traps and let the Twolegs take them away,” Mittens growled.
Tigerheart twitched as a thought sparked in his mind. He wouldn’t drive any cat into the paws of Twolegs, but perhaps there was another way to use the traps. “We don’t have to give cats to the Twolegs,” he ventured. “But what if we gave them something else?”
Fierce’s sleepy gaze sharpened suddenly. “Like what?”
Tigerheart hesitated. This would be a dangerous plan, but if it worked, it could solve all the guardian cats’ problems.
Fierce stepped out her nest and pricked her ears. “Well?”
“If we can trick the foxes into the traps—”
Mittens cut him off with a snort. “How could we do that?”
Fierce flicked her tail at the tabby irritably. “Let him finish.” Her green eyes sparkled with interest.
Tigerheart’s mind quickened as he traced out the plan. “We’d need to get Fog to show us where they are.” He hesitated, remembering Fog’s hostility yesterday. “Or Tuna. Yes. Tuna would show us.” The brown tom had wanted to go back to his old home. “Then we’d just need a small patrol to get the foxes to chase it. It could lead them here, and the rest of us could lead them into the traps.”
Mitten’s pelt bristled. “They’d kill us.”
“Cats are fast,” Tigerheart argued. “And we’d know where we were running. We could choose a route that would be hard for a fox’s clumsy paws.”
Rascal looked unconvinced. “And what if we get them here and they don’t go into the traps? We’d have led foxes right to our home for nothing!”
“We have enough cats here for two cats to take on each fox once they reach the gathering place.” Tigerheart pictured the stretch of grass around the den. “There are plenty of stone slabs to dodge around. Cats are nimble; foxes aren’t. We could easily confuse them until they don’t know where to run. Then we’d guide t
hem to the traps. Even if we can’t drive them right inside, the scent of food might draw them in.”
“That Twoleg mush does smell tempting,” Mittens conceded.
“If my plan doesn’t work,” Tigerheart went on, “we could just hide in the den. The entrance is too small for the foxes, and they won’t stay here. There’s not much for them to scavenge. They’d probably go back to their den. But if it does work, we’ll get rid of the foxes, and Fog’s cats. And with Fog’s cats gone, if we keep a low profile for a while, the Twolegs will think they’ve gotten rid of us and stop leaving traps.”
Fierce looked from Rascal to Mittens. Her gaze was thoughtful. “There is a lot to gain.”
“It’s dangerous,” Mittens murmured.
“I can lead the foxes here,” Tigerheart offered. “But I’ll need some help.”
“I’m fast, even if I run a little wonkily,” Fierce meowed, stretching out the leg that was shorter than the others. “I’ll help.”
A mew sounded across the floor. Tigerheart turned. Ant was sitting up in his nest, his ears pricked. “I’ll come.”
Cobweb padded from the shadow of Twoleg clutter. “Me too.”
Mittens and Rascal exchanged glances.
“Okay.” Mittens sounded suddenly determined. “If you four lead the foxes here, Rascal and I will organize the rest of the group to lead them to the traps.”
Excitement pricked in Tigerheart’s paws. The guardian cats were talking like warriors! “We can do this.” He whisked his tail encouragingly. All he had to do now was persuade Tuna to show them where his old camp was.
“Tuna.” Tigerheart crouched in the long grass beside Fog’s camp. He glanced up at the sky. Dark clouds were swallowing the blue, and he smelled rain as the cold wind pierced his fur. He pricked his ears, hoping Tuna would hear him before any of the other cats. “Tuna,” he hissed again.
“What do you want?” Growler nosed his way from the bushes.
“I have a message for Tuna,” Tigerheart mewed.
Growler narrowed his eyes. “You’re up to something,” he meowed. “I’m going to fetch Fog. You can talk to her.”
Tigerheart’s belly tightened. Fog might get in the way of his plan. “No,” he meowed quickly. “I just came to tell Tuna about the new traps. I wanted to show him where they were.”
“You can show me.” As Growler glanced at the sky and shivered, Tuna peered from the bushes.
He blinked at Tigerheart. “I thought I smelled you.”
Tigerheart tried to hide his eagerness at seeing the brown tom. “I wanted to show you where the new traps were.”
Growler glanced at Tuna. “For some reason, you’re the only cat who’s allowed to know.”
“You can come too if you like.” Tigerheart forced his shoulders to loosen. He wanted to look relaxed. “You’d better hurry, though. It looks like rain.”
Growler flicked his tail. “Let Tuna get wet. I’ve got scraps to finish.”
As the black-and-white tom disappeared into the bushes, Tigerheart beckoned Tuna closer with a flick of his muzzle. “I have to talk to you,” he whispered.
Tuna frowned but followed him to the closest slab. “Is something wrong?”
“You want to go back to your old camp, right?”
Tuna eyed Tigerheart warily. “If there are no foxes.”
“I’ve got a plan to get rid of them,” Tigerheart told him. “But I need you to show me where to go.”
Tuna narrowed his eyes. “Why should I do that?”
“Because, surely, you can’t be so mouse-brained as to not realize that this would be good for every cat?” Tigerheart stared at him pleadingly. “If you don’t help, the Twolegs and their traps are going to drive us all away from here.”
“Okay.” Tuna hunched tighter against the cold wind. “Tell me your plan.”
The next morning, before dawn, Tigerheart crept out of the guardian cats’ den. The night sky was swathed in cloud. He narrowed his eyes against the rain that was gently misting the city. Fierce, Cobweb, and Ant followed as he padded across the grass. Shivering in the cold, he fluffed out his fur. Orange Twoleg light reflected eerily off the wet stone. The towering dens slept in shadow except for occasional patches of light, which showed in their walls where Twolegs were beginning to stir for the day. Tigerheart quickened his step. The foxes would have spent the night scavenging and would be heading back to their den before Twolegs took over the city. The walkways and Thunderpaths were empty now. There would be no better time to lead the foxes to the traps.
He smelled fear-scent on the guardian cats and wanted to reassure them. But he couldn’t make any promises. They’d traced out two routes yesterday with the help of Tuna. With any luck, they could split the fox pack and lead them to the gathering place in two groups. The fewer foxes each patrol had to manage, the better.
“Tigerheart!” A whispered mew sounded through the rain. A dark shape bounded toward them. It was Tuna. “I’m coming with you.”
Tigerheart felt a surge of gratitude. Not all city cats were rogues after all. “You don’t have to risk your pelt.”
“I want to help.” Tuna stopped in front of him, his eyes shimmering in the strange Twoleg light.
Ant shrugged. “It can’t do any harm.”
Tigerheart saw doubt in Fierce’s gaze.
“Can we trust him? What if he tries to confuse the foxes?” she demanded.
“Why would he do that?” Tigerheart countered. “We’re going to get his old home back.”
“And he knows the routes even better than we do,” Cobweb pointed out.
Fierce stared at Tuna for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”
Tigerheart hesitated, unsure which cat should take the lead. It was his plan, and Fierce claimed that the guardian cats had no leader, but he knew the others respected her authority and he didn’t want to challenge it. Suddenly he felt like a deputy again. With a pang he thought of Rowanstar. Had his father finally found his paws and taken firm leadership of ShadowClan?
“Come on.” Tuna surprised him by heading first into the yellow light pooling beneath a pole at the side of the Thunderpath. As the brown tom passed through the light and into the shadow beyond, the others followed, glancing nervously at one another. Tigerheart fell in behind.
No cat pushed ahead of Tuna as he led the winding way through alleys and streets to the dilapidated part of the city where his camp had been. He picked his way along a crumbling wall, which edged an open space between two broken Twoleg dens. Twoleg clutter littered the site.
“My nest was in there.” Tuna nodded to gap beneath a slab of wood. “There’s a fox nest inside now.”
Tigerheart padded softly along the wall, weaving past Cobweb, Ant, and Fierce. He stopped beside Tuna and tasted the air. The fox scent was strong, but stale after the night’s rain. “They’re not back yet.” He scanned the dark camp. No Twoleg light flickered here, and he strained to see through the gloom.
Overhead, the pale clouds were showing the first signs of dawn. “Let’s stay out of sight until they come.” Tigerheart hopped off the wall and crouched behind it. Silently, Cobweb, Ant, Fierce, and Tuna followed. “You remember the plan?” he whispered.
They nodded.
“Which group will Tuna be in?” Ant asked.
“He’ll come with me and Cobweb.” He glanced at Cobweb. The gray tom dipped his head in agreement. He looked small, his long fur slicked against his body by the rain.
They crouched in the shelter of the wall. Fear fluttered like a trapped bird in Tigerheart’s belly. The stone beneath his pads was slippery. What if one of the cats lost their footing while leading the foxes through the twisting route they’d picked out? “Keep your eye on your partner,” he warned Fierce, Ant, and Cobweb. “If you fall, call for help. Leave no cat behind to face the foxes alone.” He blinked at Tuna. “Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Tuna’s tail twitched nervously.
Ant and Cobweb eyed each other doubtfully.
“
What?” Tigerheart glared at them. This was no time to start questioning orders.
“Aren’t you scared?” Cobweb ventured.
“Of course I’m scared,” Tigerheart told him. “But this needs to be done.”
“Maybe it would just be easier to find a new home after all,” Ant murmured.
Tigerheart stiffened. “Not after—”
Fierce cut him off. “We’re not leaving.” She looked sternly from Cobweb to Ant. “A cat can spend her whole life running, or she can make a stand and defend her home.”
Warmth washed Tigerheart’s pelt. Fierce was sounding like a leader.
Ant blinked in surprise. “You’re starting to sound like Tigerheart.”
Fierce sniffed. “I like our den, that’s all. Do you really think we could find a better place to spend the rest of ice-chill?”
“I guess not,” Ant conceded.
Cobweb shifted his paws. “Is this what it’s like to be a warrior?” he asked Tigerheart.
“Not all the time,” Tigerheart told him. “But we’re prepared to take risks to defend what’s ours, when we have to.”
Tuna’s whiskers twitched wryly. “I’m guessing warriors aren’t used to change.”
Tigerheart frowned. “What do you mean?”
“In the city, it’s rare to have anything long enough to need to defend it.” He nodded toward his old camp. “This was swarming with Twolegs before I was born. Now it’s swarming with foxes. Fog was raised beside the trash field. Then she lived under a bridge. Growler moved here when his Twolegs abandoned him.”
Tigerheart felt a twinge of pity for these strays, but they didn’t seem downhearted. They were watching him with interest, as though trying to make sense of him.
“Don’t you get bored of fighting for the same territory?” Tuna asked. “Don’t you ever just want to move on and find a new way to live?”
Fierce answered for him. “He’s here, isn’t he? He left one life to make a new life here.”