Tigerheart’s Shadow

Chapter 22

Fierce eyed Fog warily as the gray she-cat stopped a muzzle-length from her nose. Tuna and Growler flanked her. Streak watched from behind with six more strays.

“You realize we might never be able to go scavenging there again,” Fierce snapped. “The Twolegs will be looking out for us next time.”

“Of course we will,” Fog sniffed. “Twolegs have memories like birds. They won’t remember us now that we’ve left.”

“You didn’t have to try and steal Tigerheart’s rabbit,” Fierce told her. “If you’d scavenged for your own scraps, we’d all have scraps to take home.”

Fog glanced at the prey piled at the guardian cats’ paws. “We could still all have something to take home.” She licked her lips.

Fierce’s fur bristled. “We caught this prey, fair and square. It’s for the cats at our camp.”

Fog tipped her head as her gang fanned out around her. “But it looks so tasty.”

“We’d have more of it if you hadn’t started a fight.” Fierce unsheathed her claws.

Tigerheart’s chest swelled with hope. Was Fierce finally realizing that even city cats had to fight for what belonged to them? He looked from Fog’s ragged gang to the guardian cats. Fierce and her friends were outnumbered. Would they remember the battle moves he’d taught them? Doubt pricked in his pelt. If there was a fight, there would be wounds, and they might lose the food they’d stolen. Perhaps reason would sort this out. He padded between the two groups and looked from Fierce to Fog. “If Twolegs have such small memories,” he meowed to Fog, “why don’t you go back and get some scraps of your own? I’m sure you can find better prey than this. Besides”—he flicked his gaze to her companions—“this won’t be enough to feed all your bellies.”

Fog narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t you give us your scraps and you can go and find more?”

“No.” Fierce’s mew surprised Tigerheart. The tortoiseshell bushed out her fur. “Why are you bullying us? What did we ever do to you?”

Fog looked amused. “Why do you need to have done anything to us? We’re just a bunch of cold, hungry cats looking for food and somewhere warm to sleep.”

“We said you could sleep near the gathering place,” Fierce snapped. “Isn’t that enough? Why don’t you leave us in peace?”

Tigerheart pricked his ears. He wanted to hear Fog’s answer.

“I told you,” Fog meowed. “We were driven out of our home by foxes. It was a good home. A nice deserted stretch of scrub between some broken Twoleg dens. Lots of shelter, lots of prey. But now it belongs to foxes, and we need somewhere new to live.”

Unease wormed though Tigerheart’s fur. If this went on, would Fog want to take over the guardian cats’ home as well as steal their food? He stared at her, fluffing out his fur to look bigger. “I’m a warrior,” he growled, “so fighting us for this food won’t be as easy as you think. I’m sorry you’ve lost your home, but this is a big city. Maybe you should look elsewhere for somewhere to live.” He unsheathed his claws and stared at the scratches he’d left on her muzzle. “I fought three of you earlier and I don’t have a single wound. And I’ve taught these cats how to fight like warriors too.”

Fog exchanged a look with Tuna. Tigerheart was relieved to see worry pass between them. Pressing his advantage, he leaned closer. “If you want to start a fight, go ahead.” He lashed his tail. “But it won’t end here. Don’t forget, you decided to make your home next to ours. I can promise that if you try to take this food from us, you won’t ever sleep easily in your nests again.” He showed his teeth and let his breath bathe Fog’s muzzle.

She backed away. “Okay,” she snarled. “We’ll go and find better prey than this.” Flicking her tail, she turned away.

Tuna glared at Tigerheart menacingly, then followed. Growler showed his teeth. One by one, her ragged crew padded after her.

Tigerheart turned on Fierce. “Do you see now why every cat needs borders?”

Fierce bristled. “We don’t all dream of being a warrior. We’re healers, not fighters, and we managed to live in peace before you arrived. Not every argument needs to be settled with claws.” She picked up her hunk of meat and headed away. Cobweb, Ant, Mittens, and Rascal avoided his gaze as they followed with their catch.

We managed to live in peace before you arrived. Tigerheart flexed his claws angrily. You didn’t have to deal with Fog before I arrived. How could Fierce be so shortsighted? Didn’t she realize that the more she appeased Fog, the bolder Fog would become?

“I want to be a warrior.” Blaze’s mew took Tigerheart by surprise.

He blinked at the young tom, who was puffing out his chest. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”

Dovewing leaned closer to Tigerheart as they lay beside their nest, their bellies full of grouse, while the kits chased one another around the legs of the wooden ledge. “Did something happen while you were out?”

“Only what I told you.” Tigerheart had recounted their encounter with Fog’s gang. He still hadn’t told her about the worry nagging deep in his belly. City cats had no code at all. From what he’d seen, they were hardly better than rogues. He didn’t want his kits to grow up thinking the way they did.

Outside the gathering-place den, the sky darkened as night drew in. The clear stretches of wall shimmered in the orange light from the Twoleg dens.

“Tigerheart.” Shadowkit clawed his way onto his father’s back. “Can you give me a bodger ride?”

“Me too!” Pouncekit jumped up beside her brother.

Lightkit scrambled on. “And me.”

Tigerheart winced at the prick of their tiny claws. “It’s not a bodger ride,” he corrected. “It’s a badger ride.” He pushed himself to his paws, lurching a little to make them squeal, and began to stomp across the shiny floor.

“What is a badger?” Lightkit asked.

“I told you.” Tigerheart paused to let them settle, then staggered forward suddenly. The kits squealed again and clung on harder. “A badger is a big black-and-white creature that lives near the forest. It has a huge muzzle and beady eyes, and it eats kits if it catches them.”

“Why didn’t a badger eat you?” Pouncekit demanded.

“I never got caught,” Tigerheart told him.

“Did a badger ever chase you?” Pouncekit pressed.

“I fought one once,” Tigerheart told her.

“You fought one?” Shadowkit’s gasp ruffled his ear fur.

“I was with two Clanmates,” Tigerheart meowed. “Three warriors against one badger, and it still nearly won.”

“How did you beat it?” Lightkit mewed breathlessly.

Tigerheart turned sharply. The kits squeaked and scrabbled deeper into his fur. “I had to use all my best warrior moves,” he told them. “And I had my Clanmates by my side. When it saw the three of us lined up in front of its muzzle, it wailed in terror and ran away.”

“You scared a badger away!” Lightkit tugged at his pelt.

“You’re the best warrior ever,” Pouncekit squeaked.

Shadowkit slid off his back and hurried back to Dovewing. “Will we have to fight badgers one day?” he asked her.

She nuzzled his ear affectionately. “Perhaps,” she mewed. “But so long as you have Clanmates fighting at your side, you’ll be safe.”

Tigerheart tipped Lightkit and Pouncekit onto the floor with a shrug.

Pouncekit tried to cling on. “Don’t stop!”

“It’s getting late,” he meowed firmly. “You should go to sleep.”

“But I want to hear more about badgers!” Lightkit protested.

Dovewing got to her paws and nudged the brown tabby kit toward the nest. “If you go to sleep, we’ll tell you about hawks tomorrow.”

“What’s a hawk?” Lightkit stopped at the edge of the nest as Shadowkit and Pouncekit scrambled in.

“It’s a bird with a huge, sharp beak made of claws,” Dovewing mewed.

Lightkit leaped down beside her littermates. “It sounds scary.”

“It is.” Dovewing nuzzled them down into the soft folds of the furless pelts, then padded back to Tigerheart. She settled beside him as he lay down on his belly and began to wash his paws. “It’s so nice being together without the Clans judging us,” she mewed absently.

Tigerheart stopped washing. Why had she said that? Did she prefer it here?

She nudged his shoulder with her nose. “It is, isn’t it?”

He met her green gaze and tried to read it. Was she about to tell him that she’d changed her mind? Did she want to stay in the city? “I guess,” he murmured.

“Sneaking around never felt right.” She turned her gaze toward the guardian cats who were moving around the shadowy den. Spire padded between the nests of the two new sick cats. Fierce washed her chest. Ant and Cobweb were still gnawing on the meaty bone they’d stolen, while Rascal and Mittens picked fish bones from their teeth. Blaze was already sleeping in his nest, tired out from the day’s adventure.

Tigerheart looked at Dovewing. Was she wondering what it would be like to live here forever? “When we go home,” he meowed pointedly, “we won’t have to sneak around. We can be honest. We just need to decide which Clan we want to raise our kits in.”

“I guess it will have to be ShadowClan,” Dovewing sighed. “I can’t ask you to give up your chance to be the leader of your Clan.”

“I might not have a chance anymore.” For the first time, Tigerheart wondered with a sickening jolt if he’d been replaced as ShadowClan’s deputy. He had, after all, deserted them.

Dovewing sniffed. “Who else could lead ShadowClan? You said that your Clanmates were begging you to lead them before you left. Of course you have a chance.”

Tigerheart eyed her nervously. She was still gazing across the den. Was she testing him? Was he meant to say that he would give it up?

She turned and caught his eye. “I know how important it is to you. I want you to be happy.”

“So you’ll join ShadowClan?” Hope flickered in his chest.

“I guess.” She didn’t sound convinced. “If there’s still a ShadowClan to join.”

He tensed. It’s dark in the forest. He remembered Shadowkit’s words and shivered. Stop it! He was seeing prophecies everywhere. Even in the words of a kit.

Dovewing went on. “But we don’t have to worry about that now. We can worry about it when the kits are old enough to travel.”

When will that be? He didn’t dare ask, but he felt they should leave soon. She was so wrapped up in her love for their kits, perhaps going home wasn’t important to her anymore. Perhaps their safety was the only thing she cared about. He glanced toward the nest, where the kits had settled into silence. They must be asleep already. Perhaps she was right. His heart ached with love for Dovewing, Lightkit, Pouncekit, and Shadowkit. He should put their interests first. But wasn’t getting them back to the Clan so that they could grow up surrounded by warriors just as important as keeping them safe? If they didn’t become warriors, what would they become?

Dovewing’s breath deepened beside him, and he realized she had dozed off. He pressed closer against her. It would all be okay. He had Dovewing and his kits, and one day he’d have his Clan again.

He looked up at a clear stretch of wall, hoping to spy starlight piercing the harsh Twoleg light. A shadow moved beyond the stone. Tigerheart stiffened. A face was peering into the den. He recognized the wide ears and pointed muzzle. Fog. She was spying on the guardian cats. Fear quivered in his belly. Was she planning her next move? Did she have an eye on the cozy den the guardian cats had made for themselves beneath the gathering place?

I have to stop her. Tigerheart knew that, whether they left this place or not, he had to make sure these cats were safe from Fog and her gang.

His thoughts flitted as he watched Fog’s silhouette move along the stretch of clear wall. How could he drive her away? An idea sparked in his mind. Perhaps there was no need to drive her away. She might be happy to return to her old home if he could figure out how to get rid of the foxes that had stolen it.