Tailchaser’s Song

CHAPTER 19

The walls and floor of the tunnel were damp. Sickly-white roots, and bits of other things about which Fritti did not care to guess, hung down from the earthen ceiling. As they moved away from the entrance the light gradually dimmed, and it would have disappeared completely but for a faint phosphorescence of the soil that lined the burrow. They journeyed downward in faint, ghostly light, like the spirits of cats traveling in the void between stars.

Pouncequick, once underground, resumed his plodding and nearly lifeless mode. The clay beneath their paws stuck and crumbled between their pads. The silence was complete.

After some time they caught up with the other two Clawguard, Longtooth still carrying his soiled burden. So they continued: Fritti and Pouncequick, hemmed fore and hind by red claws, above and below by damp, solid earth.

It was impossible for Fritti to gauge the passing of time. The group, captors and captives, walked and walked, but the featureless soil never changed; the dim, nauseating glow of the tunnel earth neither waxed nor waned. On and on into the depths they passed, with no sound but their own breathing and an occasional incomprehensible exchange between the Clawguard. Tailchaser felt as if he had been in this dark hole forever. He began to slide in and out of a kind of dream. He thought of the Old Woods, the look of sunbeams slanting down to illuminate the forest floor… of running through the wonderfully fragrant, ticklish grasses with Hushpad-chasing and being chased, collapsing at last to nap in the summer warmth.

The cold, unexpected wriggling of an escaping worm beneath his paw jolted him back to darkness, and the tunnel. He could hear the harsh rasp of Scratchnail's breath. He wondered if he would ever see sunlight again.

At length Fritti's hunger overcame his reverie completely, and he began to pay more attention to the worms that squirmed through the moist earth of the burrow. After several attempts he caught one, and, with some difficulty managed to down it as he walked. It felt dreadful not to be able to stop pacing while he ate, but he feared the consequences of slowing down. Although it was a tricky business, he felt a little better for having had the morsel, and he caught another as soon as he could and ate that, too. He tried to pass the next one to Pounce, but the kitten paid no attention. After several fruitless attempts to force the wiggling mouthful on him, Fritti gave up and ate it himself.

The tunnel began to slope upward. After a short while the procession came to a small underground cavern, no more than a couple of jumps across, but high-roofed. Inside this cavern the air flowed a bit more freely, and when Scratchnail brought them to a halt Fritti was more than happy just to sit and breathe for a moment, and to rest his sore legs and paws. Wearily, he began to groom the worst of the mud and stones from between his pads, then turned his tongue to the wound on his shoulder. The blood had dried and the fur was matted stiff. It hurt when he cleaned it. Pouncequick sat motionlessly beside him, as if paralyzed; when Fritti turned and began to groom him, he submitted without a sound.

Scratchnail and the other two had been conversing in low tones at the far end of the cavern. Longtooth approached the two companions and dropped the unconscious form of Eatbugs beside them. Then, at a nod from Scratchnail, he turned and slipped away up the tunnel at the far entrance to the cave. Bitefast and the chief stretched their long, corded bodies on the floor of the earthen chamber and stared at their prisoners. Fritti-deciding that the best procedure was to ignore them as much as possible-continued to clean the dirt from Pouncequick's fur and tend to the young cat's many cuts and abrasions. Eatbugs groaned once and stirred, but did not awaken.

Finally, a muffled yowl came from the direction in which Longtooth had disappeared. At the urging of Scratchnail-in the form of a low snarl and a jerk of the head-Bitefast vanished up the tunnel, almost before the echoes had stopped echoing from the limestone walls. There was a commotion up the corridor. Fritti could hear the voices of Longtooth and Bitefast arguing. After a time they emerged into the cave dragging a limp, bulky burden. Scratchnail rose and ambled over on splayed paws to examine what they had brought.

"Found him where the branch tunnel opens up-ground into the valley wall, chief," said Longtooth with a tongue-lolling grin. "Just like you smelled. Caught 'im looking other way, then had to drag 'im down quick, before I got burned by the Fire-eye, By the Master, he's a big one, isn't he?" After all this speech Longtooth turned and self-consciously cleaned a wound on his flank.

Interested despite himself, Tailchaser leaned forward, staring in the dim cavern light. The bundle that the two Clawguard had dragged in was some kind of animal. A low sound of pain issued from the crumpled figure.

Scratchnail looked over at Fritti. "Come have a gape, little mud-Squeaker," he said. "Don't be afraid. This one won't hurt you!" The chiefs laugh scraped through the rock chamber. Tailchaser moved hesitantly forward.

Lying on the wet stone floor was a large Growler, bleeding from several wounds on his stomach and face. As Tailchaser peered past Scratchnail, the dog's eyes opened and stared blearily. He was as large as the Clawguard themselves; Fritti was impressed and frightened to know that one of the monster cats could take a fik'az this size by himself. The Growler blinked-vainly trying to keep the blood out of his eyes-and wheezed painfully. Something inside was broken and the animal was dying. Saddened and disturbed, Fritti turned back toward his corner.

Longtooth looked up from his wound-licking and said to Scratchnail: "We don't have to give any to these"-indicating Fritti and Pouncequick-"do we?"

Scratchnail looked at the pair-Fritti, wary and nervous; Pouncequick, paralyzed and silent.

"We just have to get them to Vastnir alive. We don't have to share our little treats with them." So saying, Scratchnail shot his scarlet claws and made a swift disemboweling stroke across the belly of the fik'az. Then, although the horrible agonized cries had not stopped, the Clawguard began to feed. Fritti curled up around Pouncequick and tried to ignore the sounds.

When the Claws had finished their meal, covering the cavern floor with grisly debris, they slept. At Scratchnail's canny direction, Bitefast and Longtooth had dragged their bloated bodies over to the entrances. When they rolled over onto their backs to sleep, legs in the air, they effectively blocked off any route of escape. Tailchaser could only lie next to Pounce and Eatbugs helplessly while the beasts digested their prey.

Fritti had no idea how long he lay beside his two silent companions, listening to the gurgling slumbers of their captors. He drifted into fitful sleep, and was awakened by a strange sound. At first, in his groggy state, he imagined he was dying, and that the carrion birds had come down from the sky to strip his bones. He thought he heard them all around him, bargaining solemnly over the choicest bits. Their voices were harsh, low and cold…

Coming fully awake, he listened to the eerie sounds filling the cavern. These were no great old carrion birds.

Still stretched on their backs, sprawled against cavern walls of moist stone, the Clawguard were singing.

"A day will come Above the mound No light will shine Upon the ground- And from the deep Where Old Ones sleep Our Folk will creep Without a sound…

No more to hide And wait for night No more to shun The hot daylight The sun will die And you and I Will upward fly To hunt and bite…

The Sun, the Sun The Sun will die And dying slip From out the sky And in the black

We will take back

All that we lack

The Sun will die…"

On and on it went, the hideous chanting voices groaning out the song of darkness and hatred and revenge-night creeping over the world, blood on the stones and earth, and the Folk of the mound rising up, holding sway over all.

Next to Fritti, Eatbugs' eyes snapped open. He began to rise, then lay back and listened, unmoving and unspeaking, as the song droned on. Tailchaser saw him shake his soiled head, wearily, painfully, and then close his eyes again. The chant of the Clawguard seemed to have no end. After some time, Tailchaser fell back into oppressive, stone-heavy sleep.