Tigerclaw’s Fury

Chapter 6

Tigerclaw exploded through the bush and launched himself onto Runningwind’s narrow brown back. The warrior dropped beneath him like a stone. Tigerclaw let his talons sink into Runningwind’s throat and fought back a yowl of delight as blood welled up around his paws. Behind him he heard Mousefur and Thornclaw racing away, their paw steps rapidly fading in the direction of the camp. “Cowards!” Tigerclaw spat.

“Great StarClan!” gasped Russetfur. “You’ve killed him!”

Tigerclaw stepped off Runningwind’s unmoving body. “He should have reacted more quickly,” he mewed.

Whitethroat padded forward on trembling legs and lowered his nose to sniff Runningwind’s pelt. “But… he wasn’t expecting to be attacked! He was just on a patrol.”

“A good warrior is always ready,” growled Tigerclaw. “Now, who is going to help me find the others?”

Clawface scraped his paw along the ground. “For what reason? We have trespassed on their territory. You’ve killed a warrior! We don’t want to drag our Clanmates into a battle with ThunderClan. We are not yet strong enough for that!”

Tigerclaw let his hackles rise. “There is always a reason to attack another Clan! More territory, better prey, the chance to prove how strong you are!”

“But we’re not strong,” Ratscar protested. “And we don’t want to take over ThunderClan’s territory or hunt their prey.”

In the distance, they heard cats approaching fast, crashing through undergrowth, not caring how much prey they scared away. Clawface stepped forward. “Tigerclaw, we came here to hunt, not to fight. This is not a battle we can win. Not yet.”

Russetfur shifted her paws. “We need to get out of here!”

Tigerclaw forced the fur along his spine to lie flat. Make them think it’s your decision to retreat, not theirs, warned the voice in his head. Otherwise this could be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. “Fine. This warrior”—he kicked Runningwind’s body and it shuddered like a leaf in the wind—“will be a clear enough message that ShadowClan is growing powerful again.” He flicked his tail in the moment before Clawface, Russetfur, and Ratscar plunged into the elder bush and raced back to the Thunderpath. I gave you the signal to retreat! Remember that!

Whitethroat stayed where he was, his muzzle buried in the dead warrior’s still-warm fur. “Are you coming?” Tigerclaw snarled. Whitethroat didn’t move. “Waiting for your ThunderClan friends to arrive, are you?” Tigerclaw spat. “I knew I couldn’t trust you. Know this, Whitethroat. You won’t be welcome in ShadowClan again, I promise.”

“It’s this way!” Mousefur screeched from the other side of a clump of bracken. “Hurry!”

Tigerclaw lifted his head and sniffed. Beneath the acrid tang of the Thunderpath, he detected Fireheart and Whitestorm, closing in on him fast. Much as he longed to stay and watch them grieve for Runningwind, he knew he couldn’t take them all on. He turned and slipped into the elder bush just as Fireheart pounded into the clearing beneath the ash trees.

“He’s dead!” Whitethroat wailed.

Tigerclaw burst out from the bush and tore along the trail through the bracken. Brittle fronds whipped his pelt and stung his eyes. He stopped, flanks heaving, on the edge of the Thunderpath. Suddenly, to Tigerclaw’s astonishment, Whitethroat appeared a little way off, struggling through the brambles. He was wide-eyed and panting, and blood smeared his cheek.

Is he leading an attack on ShadowClan? Tigerclaw wondered, bracing himself to run and warn the others. Traitor!

Fireheart scrambled out behind Whitethroat, and the black-and-white warrior whipped his head around to stare at the ginger cat.

Bring whoever you want! I will kill them all! Tigerclaw vowed.

Without stopping to speak to Fireheart, Whitethroat flung himself onto the Thunderpath. Tigerclaw took a step back as a monster blasted past, flinging grit and foul smoke into his face. When the air stopped whirling, he saw Fireheart staring in horror at a black-and-white shape that lay in the middle of the Thunderpath. The monster hit Whitethroat! Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes. Will ThunderClan still attack?

On the unforgiving black stone, Whitethroat stirred. Fireheart ran over to him. He crouched down and seemed to be speaking to Whitethroat, but his words were drowned by another monster roaring past. By the time Tigerclaw could see Fireheart again, he was standing up. Whitethroat was sprawled at his paws, eyes glazed and open, a trickle of blood coming from his mouth. Tigerclaw felt his fur prick. Fireheart was staring straight at him.

“Is chasing puny cats to their deaths the best you can do to defend your territory?” Tigerclaw yowled.

In answer, Fireheart hurtled toward him, narrowly missing two monsters, and launched himself at Tigerclaw. Taken by surprise, Tigerclaw staggered backward, feeling the scents of ThunderClan rise up around him from the thick grass. Fireheart’s paws pummeled his ribs, but Tigerclaw wrenched himself free and reared up, flinging the ginger cat onto the ground. Tigerclaw let his full weight crash down on him, sinking his claws into the fur around Fireheart’s throat. Fury burned inside him.

“Are you listening, kittypet?” he hissed. “I will kill you, and all your warriors, one by one.”

Suddenly there was a roar of thundering paws, and a voice meowed in Tigerclaw’s ear, “Did you think we would let you fight alone?”

He turned and looked into Blackfoot’s hungry gaze. “No, my friend,” mewed Tigerclaw. “I knew you would come.”

Blackfoot had brought nearly every cat that wasn’t sick with him—including Russetfur and Ratscar, Tigerclaw noticed. As the ShadowClan cats hurtled across the Thunderpath, Mousefur and Whitestorm burst out of the undergrowth. They fought bravely, but the ThunderClan warriors were sorely outnumbered. Even though Fireheart had managed to wriggle free from Tigerclaw, this wasn’t a battle that ShadowClan would lose.

Mowgli rushed forward and sliced at Fireheart’s hind legs with his claws. Fireheart stumbled and Tigerclaw reared over him, bracing himself to deliver the deathblow. Mowgli’s eyes glittered in triumph. There was a searing pain in Tigerclaw’s belly and he looked down, baffled. A broad gray tabby warrior had lunged into Tigerclaw’s exposed stomach, tearing at the newly healed wound. Graystripe! What is he doing here? He lives in RiverClan!

Tigerclaw fell onto his paws and looked around. His cats were fighting more than the three ThunderClan warriors now. It looked like a whole RiverClan patrol had come to Fireheart’s rescue. Always relying on others for help! Tigerclaw spat. He braced himself as Fireheart and Graystripe tackled him side by side. Tigerclaw was forced back toward the Thunderpath, then his paw got tangled up in a bramble and he fell heavily onto the ground. He looked around for Mowgli or Blackfoot, but they were wrestling with fish-scented cats. Clawface and Russetfur had retreated to the edge of the Thunderpath, flanks heaving and covered in scratches.

Fireheart glanced up to look at the ShadowClan warriors who were leaving, and Tigerclaw felt the ginger cat’s weight shift on his shoulders. He wrenched himself free and raced for the Thunderpath. He heard the other ShadowClan cats fall in behind him, but he didn’t slow down until they were all deep inside the pine trees. He limped to a halt beside a patch of brambles, his belly burning with pain and his muzzle stinging from scratches. Around him, the other cats slumped onto the ground and began licking their wounds.

A thin voice whined in Tigerclaw’s ear: You ran! You should have stayed and fought! Never start a battle that you cannot finish, you fool.

Tigerclaw lifted his head. “We must let the rest of ShadowClan know that we were attacked without provocation,” he ordered. He caught Clawface’s eye and waited for the brown tom to nod. “Tragically, Whitethroat gave his life trying to save his Clanmates from ThunderClan’s savagery. He died at Fireheart’s paws, trying to reach the safety of his own territory.”

Flintfang snarled, “No warrior kills one of my Clanmates without answering to me. Let me go back to ThunderClan now and avenge Whitethroat’s death!”

Tigerclaw let his tail rest on Flintfang’s shoulder. “Have patience, my friend. Those RiverClan cats might be waiting for us still. Wait until the ThunderClan warriors have to defend themselves alone, and then we will destroy them without losing a single drop of our own blood.”

“Whitethroat will not die in vain!” cried Russetfur, and her Clanmates joined in with a wail of grief.

“ThunderClan got lucky today, that’s all,” Tigerclaw meowed when they fell silent. “This is not a battle that has been lost. Merely one that has been put off for a while.” He met Blackfoot’s gaze. The white tom seemed to understand what Tigerclaw was saying. What happened today would be reported to the rest of ShadowClan as a moment of tragedy for Whitethroat and a cause for revenge on ThunderClan when they had their chance. Fireheart’s days of leading his band of kittypet-lovers would soon be over.