The stocky cat scratched his head. ‘He’s a funny-looking thing, isn’t he? I thought Varjak Paw would be bigger – didn’t you, Ozzie?’
‘Yup,’ said the giant cat, speaking at last.
‘I don’t think he can be the one we’re after. But go on, see what he’s made of. Might as well.’
Ozzie beamed. ‘OK, Omar. Thanks!’
Varjak braced himself as Ozzie squared up to fight. This was a test. If he used the Way, they’d know who he was, and that would be that. He had to face Ozzie without it – and without his friends. Holly and Tam couldn’t help him any more, because Omar was keeping them in check.
‘There’s no need for this!’ growled Holly. ‘We don’t want to fight.’
‘No one wants to fight Ozzie!’ crowed Omar. ‘But you’ve got no choice!’
Ozzie came barrelling through the air. Varjak rolled aside just in time, but the giant caught his flank as he went: a glancing blow, powerful enough to knock him over.
Varjak came up into a crouch, defending his flank as he got his breath back. How could he beat a cat like this without his Skills? Even with them, he’d struggle against an opponent so immensely big and strong.
Ozzie marched forwards, legs thick like lamp posts. Varjak backed up into the building site. The ground was strewn with rubble. With three steps, he was up against a wall, and Ozzie was still coming. A huge paw shot out. Varjak ducked. Ozzie hit the wall above him. A cloud of dust rose where Varjak’s head had been.
He had to get away! A hit like that could kill him! He feinted left, right, but wherever he turned, Ozzie was still in the way. The giant cat grinned, lifted Varjak clean off his paws, and sent him crashing into the wall.
Varjak twisted in mid-air, but couldn’t avoid the impact. His bones jarred. His vision blurred. Above, he saw the crane, the wrecking ball, the broken buildings. Ozzie was squaring up to finish him off.
‘You’d better run!’ whooped Omar. ‘It’s your only chance!’
Varjak staggered to his paws, heart pounding, out of breath. He wanted to run, desperately – but he knew Ozzie would only catch him. It’s useless trying to fight, he thought. I can’t beat this cat for power. But if I could somehow use his own power against him . . .
He held himself still, in front of the wall. His heart was thumping like a jackhammer, but he stood his ground, and beckoned to Ozzie. ‘Is that all you can do?’ he called. ‘I thought you were supposed to be strong!’
Ozzie looked startled for a second. Then he pawed the ground – and charged at Varjak with maximum force. Varjak stood there, totally still, till the last possible moment – and then dived under the charge.
CRUNCH!
The giant crashed head-first into the wall. Varjak sprang away, breathing hard. The fight was surely finished. He turned to look – but Ozzie was just dusting himself off!
‘Yee-haa!’ yelled Omar. ‘You can’t hurt Oz – he can’t feel a thing!’
Ozzie grinned a gap-toothed grin. He looked like he was having fun. ‘Oh, but he’s good, Omar, he’s brave! I think he’s the one! Can I fight him some more? Please?’
‘No, that’s enough, little brother,’ said Omar, suddenly very serious. He turned to Varjak. ‘I only saw one cat who didn’t run away from Ozzie before, and that was Sally Bones. So you must be Varjak Paw – and those stories must be true.’
With those words, they bowed down before Varjak. So did Ozzie. They flattened themselves into the rubble before him. ‘At your service,’ they said together. ‘Omar and Ozzie, the Orrible Twins. The strongest cats in town!’
Varjak stared at them in disbelief. Holly and Tam were staring too.
‘You’re not in Sally Bones’s gang, are you?’ said Holly. ‘You’re outlaws! I remember now, Luger said they were looking for twin cats, one big, one bigger.’
‘Outlaws, and proud of it,’ said Omar, standing up again.
‘Outlaws?’ breathed Tam. She groomed her bushy tail. ‘We’re outlaws too!’
‘We weren’t always,’ said Omar. ‘We were in Ginger’s gang, in the old days, before Sally Bones. Then she made us join her gang. It was a nightmare. She used to slash us, just to prove she was Boss. We’re stronger than her, but she – she’s the only one who knows that secret way of fighting.’
Ozzie flinched. The scar on his face quivered. ‘Don’t say it, Omar. I don’t want to remember. Anyway, we got away from her. And now we’ve met the cat who’s going to put this city right – Snowflake!’ He looked at Varjak, and grinned his gap-toothed grin. ‘You’re not really called Snowflake, are you?’
Varjak couldn’t help grinning back. ‘No, I’m not,’ he said. ‘You’re right: I’m Varjak.’
‘So why were you really going to her territory?’ said Omar.
‘A patrol took a friend of ours away last night,’ said Holly. ‘A kitten.’
Omar glanced at the ears and tail in the gutter. ‘Your friend needs help.’
‘What do you know about those ears?’ said Varjak.
‘You don’t know?’ said Omar. ‘It’s—’
‘Don’t say it,’ said Holly. ‘It’s too horrible.’
‘That’s why it needs to be said.’ Omar clenched his big, blunt paws. ‘Because that is Sally Bones’s mark. That’s the punishment for breaking her law. She rips your ears and tail off, and leaves them out for everyone to see.’
‘What? She can’t do that!’ Varjak looked at Holly, hoping she’d say Omar was wrong, it was some kind of mistake – but she didn’t.
‘You remember that – that animal we saw outside the secret alleys?’ she said. ‘That was a cat. A cat with no ears and tail.’
Varjak’s mind started to spin. So now he knew why Tam was so scared. And why the street cats in the yard went silent when he’d mentioned it.
‘Nobody stops her?’ he whispered.
‘Nobody can,’ said Omar. ‘And if you don’t act fast, this is what’ll happen to your friend.’
Varjak’s face burned. This was outrageous. The most outrageous thing he’d ever heard. He turned away, but everyone was looking at him. He could feel it; and he could feel his own power, rising inside him like a flame.
‘No,’ he said, striding into the crossroads. ‘It’s not going to happen to Jess.’
Chapter Eleven
THE FIVE OF them crossed silently, swiftly, into Sally Bones’s territory. They passed the ears and tail in the gutter, pinned out like some awful kind of flag. Varjak’s blood burned as he saw it again.
They hurried through the city, following the tracks westwards. The streets were broader here, but towers of steel and glass loomed over them, blocking out the sky with walls no cat could climb. They were so much taller than the brown buildings of the harbour. Varjak felt like he was running through a canyon. The sun was just beginning to rise, shooting streaks of crimson onto the glass. Dawn was fast approaching.
The trail led down to the riverside. As the river came into view, Varjak heard water rushing past, but it was drowned out by a shrill whistle and a rattling roar. These noises came from a railway bridge that spanned the river. A train was hurtling over, making the bridge shake and shake and shake. It made Varjak’s fur shake too, and put his teeth on edge.
This part of town was so different to the harbour. It looked like the riverbanks had been eaten up by towers. Chimney stacks belched out smoke. The taste of burning was thick on the air. Across the river, Varjak could see one tower that stood out from the rest, set apart on a mound. It was stone, not glass, and it looked very old. It might’ve been white once, but now it was black with smoke stains. It looked like a jagged claw of darkness, tearing into the dawn.
‘That’s Sally Bones’s place,’ whispered Omar. ‘The graveyard. She only comes out of it at night. If you end up there, it’s over. But down here by the river: this is where they bring prisoners first, to soften them up.’
He led them to the top of a rickety wooden gangplank that led down to the waterfront. It juddered as a train went b
y. The railway bridge stretched far off into the night, across a wide expanse of water. Most of the river was calm and still. Just under the bridge, though, it churned with dirty brown froth.
That’s strange, thought Varjak. Why’s it churning like that?
He crept to the edge of the gangplank. It was low tide, so the river’s muddy banks were exposed. There was no sign of Sally Bones – but there were six of her gang just below him. Six brawny tomcats. One of them was pinning Jess flat in the mud. Three others were watching from a distance, laughing. Razor was looking out at the river, alone. Luger was leaning over Jess and shouting: ‘WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS HE? TELL US!’
Jess didn’t answer. Luger nodded at the tomcat pinning her down. The tomcat grinned, placed a claw over her ear – and ripped right through it.
Jess screamed.
On the gangplank, Varjak rose up, and sprang towards Jess. ‘That’s enough!’ he growled. Fury darkened his sight. He breathed deep, filling his lungs with grim purpose – in–two–three–four, out–two–three–four.
The world seemed to shimmer and slow down around him. The power rose up inside him. And now he made a Moving Circle –
‘Stop!’ called Holly. ‘We need to plan!’
– but Varjak couldn’t stop. He was too angry. The power seethed inside him. As he touched down on the riverbank, it built up, and up, and up, until it was more than he could contain or control – and then it flung him forwards towards Jess.
His body arced through the air, a Moving Circle of pure energy, pulsing, glowing, throbbing with rage. Luger jerked away, just in time. Varjak turned to the tomcat who was pinning Jess down: and the power exploded.
SMASH! SMASH! SMASH!
The tomcat crumpled. He sank into the ground. Something splattered on Varjak’s fur. Mud, perhaps, or blood. The tomcat was very still. Up on the railway bridge, a train whistle shrieked into the dawn.
Varjak roared, full of ferocious joy. There were five more cats to fight. But the power was so strong. It felt so good. He wasn’t scared of it any more. It was flowing all around him, like a ring of fire, and at the back of his throat was the taste of burning.
‘Jess!’ he yelled. ‘Get up!’
Her ear was torn and bleeding, but her eyes opened wide at his voice. ‘Varjak? Am I dreaming?’
‘You’re coming home.’
Razor edged forwards. ‘Wait!’ he said. ‘I have to talk to you.’
There was a strange expression in his eyes that Varjak couldn’t read. But there was no time to wonder what it meant. His Awareness screamed with danger. Behind him, another tomcat was coming to get him.
Varjak spun round. Arced under the blow. And came up into the cat’s belly. He felt the crunch of ribs, and then the tomcat was spinning through the air. He splashed into the river, and was carried away by the tide. The train was gone now; its juddering roar had faded. Under the railway bridge, the river still bubbled and seethed, a torrent of dirty brown water.
Two down – but now Varjak was off-balance, and Luger was coming at him. Varjak tried to turn.
Too late.
Luger smashed into him, breaking the Circle. Varjak reeled back in the mud, exposed. And now Luger was coming in for the kill –
– but Holly got there first! She sprang down from the gangplank, and wrestled Luger away. He was much bigger than her, and stronger, but Holly had the advantage of surprise; and now Omar and Tam were with her, backing her up, and Ozzie was charging into the other two Bones cats.
‘Omar! Ozzie!’ Luger shouted. ‘You traitors – the Boss wants you, dead or alive!’
‘She’ll never get us,’ growled Omar. He thumped Luger hard, sending him sprawling into the mud. ‘We’re in Varjak’s gang now!’
Jess’s eyes glowed. ‘Who are they?’ she whispered.
‘The Orrible Twins!’ said Varjak. ‘Outlaw cats. They’re with us.’
Ozzie was on the rampage. The two Bones cats fled from him down the waterfront. Omar and Holly were holding Luger face down in the mud. Only Razor was still standing now, and he was completely out-numbered.
‘Let’s get out of here!’ shouted Holly. She moved back towards the gangplank; Omar and Ozzie followed her. Varjak started another Moving Circle, and helped Jess to her paws.
‘Can you still run?’ he said.
‘Try and stop me!’
They joined the others at the bottom of the gangplank. Razor stood where he was, looking at Varjak. High above, there was an ear-splitting whistle, and the railway bridge started to rattle again, to rattle and roar with the rush of another train.
‘You won’t get away with this!’ shouted Luger, hauling himself up from the mud.
‘Leave us alone,’ said Varjak. ‘We’re free cats, and nobody hurts a free cat.’ His Circle shimmered like silver-blue fire in the night.
‘Wait!’ said Razor, still looking at Varjak. ‘I want to—’
His words were drowned out by the roar of the train. Varjak and his friends started to climb the gangplank, Ozzie holding the line at the rear. Luger lashed out as they went. Ozzie took the blow without flinching, and hit back with his huge paws. Luger fell away. Razor just stood at the foot of the gangplank, watching in the mud, as they made it to the top.
‘Go!’ panted Holly. ‘Go, go, go!’
They raced away into a red dawn. Jess was still bleeding, but she ran the fastest, and no one was left behind.
As the streets flashed by, as they dashed through the great glass canyons, Varjak came out of Slow-Time. It was hard. His throat felt raw. His vision was blurry.
But somehow, through the chaos and confusion, they made it back to the border of the West side. No one followed them; they met no patrols. They scrambled over the crossroads, past the ears and tail in the gutter, and back into the city centre.
They’d done it. They’d gone into Sally Bones’s territory, and brought Jess out alive.
And up above, the snow began to fall again, to fall unstoppably from the sky.
Chapter Twelve
BACK IN THE harbour, the morning sun shone down on the river. Ships’ horns rang out as they came in to dock. Flags fluttered on their masts.
Varjak and his friends walked down into the snowy yard. It felt like coming home. There were the brown buildings again, their windows lit with a cosy glow. There were the street cats, most of them still sleeping. Mrs Moggs sat by the ship’s anchor, Old Buckley by her side. As soon as they saw Jess coming, they ran out to greet her.
‘My Jessie?’ cried Mrs Moggs. ‘They brought my Jessie back!’
Her cry woke the yard. In moments, the street cats were up and buzzing, eyes aglow.
‘They did it!’ The word went round like wildfire.
‘Varjak’s brought our Jessie back!’
Up above, seagulls rose high on the river breeze.
‘What happened, my dears?’ said Mrs Moggs, licking Jess, comforting her.
‘They was about to rip my ears and tail off!’ breathed Jess. ‘I thought I was finished, but then Varjak rescued me—’
Old Buckley shook his head. ‘How? How could he do that?’
‘He fights like nothing you ever seen, Buckley. Bam! Bam! Bam! He’s even better than Sally Bones!’
‘Then I owe you an apology, Mr Varjak Paw,’ said Old Buckley. ‘I was wrong about you!’ His face broke out into the gladdest grin.
Varjak felt so proud of that grin. ‘Well, it wasn’t just me,’ he said. ‘It was all of us.’
‘Varjak’s got a gang now,’ said Jess. ‘Them two big cats, they’re outlaws, but they’re with us!’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said the Orrible Twins.
Around them, snow was shimmering down from the sky, coating the yard in white. Varjak looked at Omar and Ozzie, at Holly and Tam, at Jess – and his skin tingled beneath his fur. We’ve done it, he thought. We’ve done the impossible.
‘We’re lucky we got there in time,’ said Holly. ‘If Sally Bones had been there—’
??
?You was clever, going at dawn,’ said Mrs Moggs. ‘Course, she’ll come back at us. You can depend on it. But we don’t care, do we?’
A defiant cheer rang round the yard.
‘Varjak told ’em,’ said Jess fiercely. ‘He told ’em we’re the Free Cats, and no one hurts a Free Cat.’
‘The Free Cats, eh?’ said Old Buckley. ‘It’s a good name. We never had a name before.’
‘It’s time that changed,’ said Mrs Moggs. ‘From now on, no one can march in here and take us away, or steal our food. This’ll be a free city – for Free Cats!’
The Free Cats whooped. They started dancing in the snow, like these were words they’d never dared to say aloud, but words they’d held secretly in their hearts for the longest time. And the way they were looking at Varjak – especially Mrs Moggs and Jess – his heart was dancing too, for it filled him with a rush of pride that swirled inside him like snowflakes in the dark.
‘Tonight, let’s forget them and their laws,’ cried Mrs Moggs. ‘Let’s eat like proper cats again!’
And they did. Through the day, as Varjak and his friends rested, the Free Cats went out into the harbour. Defying Sally Bones’s law, they returned with heaps of food, more than they could eat. They found no patrols out there; no sign of Sally Bones’s gang.
‘They’re scared of Varjak!’ some cats said.
‘They’re biding their time,’ said others.
No one knew for sure. But as evening fell, there was a feast in the harbour yard, greater than anyone could remember. The street cats sank their teeth into fresh fish from the river, the food they’d been denied for so long. There was a wild thrill in the air. The brown buildings were decked out with strings of coloured lights, strung between the windows. The snow was shimmering down, light and powder white, and up above the yard, all the stars were coming out.
‘This is delicious!’ said Holly, relishing the feast.
‘Best food we’ve had all winter,’ said Omar. ‘Right, little brother?’