Tallstar’s Revenge

Chapter 29

Talltail whirled around. A massive dog loomed over him, teeth glistening, eyes sparking with rage.

It lunged, and at the same instant Talltail ducked. Jaws snapped at his shoulder, tugging out fur. Screeching with pain, Talltail raced for the fence and leaped onto it, dropping down the other side. A narrow passage ran beside the red-stone den. Talltail charged along it, claws spraying grit behind him. Another tall, wooden fence blocked the end, but he scaled it and jumped down from the top.

A Thunderpath lay in front of him with a monster roaring along it. Talltail froze, pelt bushing. Behind him, the dog barked furiously. Could it get over the fence? I’m not waiting to find out! As soon as the monster had passed, Talltail fled across the Thunderpath. Dodging into a tiny gap between two stone dens, he raced through the bushes at the back, then hurtled past another den. Swerving onto a stone path that led between blank walls, he kept running, his breath coming in gasps. Shapes blurred around him as he ran. Monsters howled, endless fences blocked his path, but he kept dodging and jumping, refusing to give the dog a chance to catch him.

Eventually, chest heaving, Talltail scrambled to a halt. He glanced over his shoulder. No sign of any dog. Red stone walls loomed over him on three sides. Blood welled on his shoulder where he’d lost fur. He limped toward a heap of stinking bundles that had been piled in the corner of the passage. It smelled like Carrionplace, but right now it looked like a place to shelter. Crouching behind it, he tried to catch his breath.

Sunshine sliced between the walls, striping the middle of the passage. Talltail trembled, dazed and sore. Panic began to swirl in his belly. How will I ever find my way through Twolegplace, let alone find Sparrow? He lapped at the patch of raw flesh on his shoulder. If only Barkface were there with soothing herbs. You will have to hunt for yourself, heal yourself if you get hurt. There will be no one to share your victories. Or your defeats. Heatherstar’s words rang in his mind. I can do it, he told himself.

A clang made him freeze. He jerked up his head, pelt bristling. The noise came from around the corner. Another crash rang through the air. Talltail began to back away. A dog yelped excitedly. Talltail felt the fur rise along his spine. Had it tracked him here?

A cat screeched in alarm. It was in trouble.

Leave it. Talltail stared in the direction of the noise, his mind whirling. I can’t! He hadn’t trained to be a warrior to leave other cats in danger! He raced forward and swung around the corner at the end. A ginger tom was cowering in the corner of a walled dead end, his green eyes wide with alarm. A brown-and-white dog the size of a badger barked in his face while the tom swung out in a frenzy with his claws.

A different dog! Twolegplace was swarming with them. But this time Talltail wasn’t going to run. A cat was in trouble.

Talltail focused his mind. There was rage in the tom’s eyes, as if all he needed was a bit of luck for the battle to go his way. Talltail sprang onto the wall and ran along it until he was level with the dog. He stopped beside the dog, eyeing its back, then unsheathed his claws and jumped. He landed squarely on the dog’s shoulders, ripping into its flesh. As the dog bucked and yelped beneath Talltail, the ginger tom reared up and swiped its muzzle. Talltail leaped down, landing beside the tom. Watching his paw movements from the corner of his eye, Talltail matched them swipe for swipe. The dog began to back away, its eyes clouding with confusion, then with fear. It snapped at the ginger cat once more, then yelped with frustration, turned, and fled.

Talltail dropped onto all fours. The tom collapsed beside him, flanks heaving.

“Are you okay?” Talltail sniffed the other cat’s pelt. No blood scent.

The tom lifted his head. “I’m just catching my breath.”

“Did it bite you?”

“Didn’t get close enough.” The tom heaved himself to his paws, staggering a little as his forepaw buckled beneath him. Talltail glanced at it. “Just a sprain,” the tom told him. “I turned it on a stone while I was running.” He stared at Talltail. “Thanks, by the way. I thought I was a goner.”

Talltail stared at him. “Goner?”

“Dog food,” the tom explained. “Dead.”

“You shouldn’t have let yourself get chased into a corner,” Talltail told him bluntly.

“You think?”

Talltail tucked his hindquarters under him, ready to spring back up onto the wall and leave. It was starting to rain and he needed to find somewhere to shelter for the night.

“What’s your name?” the ginger tom called. “I’m Jake.”

“I’m Talltail.” He hopped up onto the wall. “You should get out of here. The dog might come back.”

“You’re a Clan cat, aren’t you?” Jake blinked up at him. “From over the fences? I’ve always wondered about the wild cats who live in the woods.”

“That’s ThunderClan.” Talltail fluffed out his fur against the rain.

“So you’re a ThunderClan cat.”

“ThunderClan?” Talltail felt a flicker of annoyance. “No way! There’s more than one Clan.”

“Really?” Jake’s eyes bulged.

“I have to go.” I’m not here to make friends. “Get away from here before the dog—”

“—comes back. I know. Well, thanks for helping me out.”

“Be more careful in the future.” Talltail sprang down the other side of the wall into another tiny meadow that backed onto a red-stone den. This meadow had shrubs growing around the edge. A hedge ran along one side and Talltail hurried across the grass and squeezed through, popping out into another little green square. He padded over it, glancing warily at the Twoleg den at the end, then tasting the air for dogs. The rain was falling heavily now, drenching his pelt. He scrambled over the far fence into an identical space. Talltail wondered why Twolegs made so many barriers. Didn’t they have scent marks?

Kittypet scent touched his nose as he landed on another patch of wet grass. A ginger-and-black she-cat was sheltering under a bush near the Twoleg den. Perhaps she could give him a clue if he was headed in the right direction. He padded toward her, blinking calmly at her to reassure her.

She huddled deeper under the bush, her pelt bristling, her eyes wide with alarm.

“I only want to ask you a question,” Talltail called.

She stared at him. “My Twolegs will be back in a moment. They’ll chase you off.” She lifted her muzzle bravely.

Talltail stopped a tail-length from the bush. “Before they do, can you tell me if you’ve seen any rogues around here recently?”

“Only you.” The she-cat backed away.

Talltail gazed at her wearily. “I’m a Clan cat.”

“A Clan cat?” Her pelt spiked. “That’s worse!” Eyes sparking with terror, she scrabbled from the bush and hared toward the fence, leaping over it and disappearing.

Talltail shook out his pelt. He was tired and hungry and had no idea if he was getting any closer to the rogues. He didn’t know if he would ever find his way out of this forest of Twoleg dens. And his belly was growling again. He had to find food. He hurried through the rain and leaped the next wall. A small wooden den sat at one end of the bushy clearing. It looked deserted, too small for Twolegs to live in, too ramshackle for pampered kittypets. A good place for prey to hide. He stalked toward it, searching the sides for a gap. There was a small hole at one corner. The edge was ragged. Small teeth had chewed it.

Rat? He’d never eaten rat. But it was food. He crept into the shadowy den, his nose wrinkling as pungent smells wreathed around him. He swallowed his rising queasiness. They were just scents. They couldn’t hurt him. He slunk around the pieces of wood that littered the den floor, sniffing for prey and wondering if he’d even smell it through the stink. He blinked in the gloom. Something was lying on the ground in the corner. Talltail padded toward it, nose twitching. The soft, dead body of a rat showed in the half light. Someone had left prey behind.

Dumb kittypets. What was the point of catching prey if you didn’t eat it? He crouched beside the rat and took a bite. It was so fresh, it was still warm. There was a sharp taste to its flesh, barely detectible over the thick scents swirling around the shed. Twolegplace rats must taste different. Hungrily Talltail took another bite. His belly heaved. I have to eat. I have to stay strong.

He forced himself to keep chewing despite the taste, swallowing until every morsel was gone. Relieved, he licked his lips, thinking longingly of fresh moor rabbit. The weight in his belly made him sleepy. He curled down onto the hard floor and closed his eyes, flattening his ears against the thundering of the rain. It might stink in here, but at least it was dry. Tucking his nose under his paw, he tried to ignore the tiny jabs in his belly. I ate too fast. He curled up tighter and let sleep enfold him.