“No.”
“Well, you should.” He looked pointedly at Fog. “Then other cats would know not to trespass.”
Rain dripped from Fierce’s whiskers as she glanced past Fog. “Have you built dens here?”
“Not dens,” Fog answered. “Just a few nests. Foxes invaded our old home. We needed a new place to sleep.”
Tigerheart pricked his ears. “So you’re planning to make a new home here?”
Fog shrugged. “Why not? We won’t bother you.”
Tigerheart narrowed his eyes accusingly. “What about yesterday?” he challenged. “You tried to steal our food.”
Tuna shifted his paws. “We were just scavenging, like you.”
Tigerheart growled. “In the future, don’t scavenge where we scavenge.”
Fog stared back innocently. “We’re still getting used to this part of the city. We didn’t know you owned the scrapcans here.” Her pelt ruffled into spikes as rain soaked her fur.
“Go easy on them.” Fierce swished her tail at Tigerheart. “They’ve had fox trouble. We know what that’s like.”
Tigerheart didn’t care. He was wondering how many more cats were hiding in the bushes. “Are you going to let them stay on your land?”
“I told you,” Fierce meowed. “This isn’t our land. We don’t own land.”
“How do you know where you can hunt?” Tigerheart couldn’t understand how they could live in such a disorganized way. “You have sick cats to feed,” he reminded her. “And kits. You need to know you have territory that can support them even in the coldest weather. You—”
Fog interrupted him. “What’s the weather got to do with it? Do you think Twolegs stop leaving trash because it gets cold? Ice-chill is the best weather for scavenging. Food rots slower.”
“Come on.” Fierce began to head away. “This argument is pointless. These cats aren’t harming anyone.”
Ant and Spire followed her wordlessly. Tigerheart exchanged looks with Dovewing. Foreboding hollowed his belly. Hadn’t Rowanstar let rogues live beside ShadowClan land because he thought they wouldn’t do any harm?
Fog shook rain from her fur and headed back into the dripping bushes. Her companions followed.
Alone with Dovewing, Tigerheart’s pelt prickled along his spine. “I can see trouble coming.”
“I know it’s different from how Clans live, but the cats here seem happy with it.” Dovewing began to head after Fierce, Spire, and Ant.
Tigerheart wondered why Dovewing didn’t see the danger in living so chaotically. “They may be happy now, but what if Fog and her friends decide they want a warmer den and invade the gathering place? There are sick cats there who can’t defend themselves! Just because the guardian cats chased off a couple of foxes, it doesn’t mean they’re ready for a full battle over territory.” He paused, his heart quickening. “They don’t even understand what territory is!”
Fierce, Ant, and Spire were already crossing the puddled Thunderpath. Dovewing stopped at the edge and blinked at Tigerheart. “We can’t tell them to change the way they live,” she argued. “We’re just visitors here.”
“But don’t you want to help them?” He trotted after her.
“Not if they don’t want to be helped.”
“But it’s so obvious.” As he reached her, Tigerheart felt exasperated. “All they need to do is mark some boundaries and organize some patrols, and everyone will sleep a lot safer in their nests.”
Monsters sent up spray as they passed. Crouching against it, Dovewing waited for a gap and then splashed across the Thunderpath. Tigerheart followed. “This isn’t a Clan, Tigerheart. These cats don’t even have a leader. They’re just a bunch of healers and scavengers who have been kind to us. Don’t start bossing them around.”
“I wasn’t bossing.” Tigerheart’s paws pricked indignantly.
Dovewing went on. “I know you’re used to being Clan deputy and believing that one day you’ll be leader. But you’re not in the forest now, and you won’t be for a while. So you might as well get used to living like a city cat.”
Ahead, Ant, Spire, and Fierce turned a corner. Dovewing quickened her pace. Tigerheart hurried beside her, his thoughts churning. And you won’t be for a while. He glanced at Dovewing, trying to read her gaze. The kits would be ready to travel soon, surely? They were weaned now and growing stronger each day. “How long are you planning to stay here?”
“Are you in a rush to get back to the lake?” She kept her gaze ahead, scanning the bustling Twolegs as they turned the corner.
“I want our kits to grow up in ShadowClan,” Tigerheart told her.
“Why not ThunderClan?” Dovewing dodged between a Twoleg’s paws. The guardian cats were waiting at the mouth of an alley.
Tigerheart stared at Dovewing. Was she planning to take their kits to ThunderClan? His belly tightened. “I’m ShadowClan’s deputy. I can’t just join another Clan.”
“But I can?” Dovewing shot him a look. “Besides, are you sure there’s a ShadowClan to go back to? Didn’t you say it might disappear? Who knows what might have happened while we’ve been away?”
How could she say that so casually? Had Dovewing stopped caring about the Clans? Had she forgotten how much she’d loved her life before she came to the city? Didn’t she remember what it was like to be a warrior? His pelt prickled uneasily. She had never complained about feeding scraps to the kits. And she didn’t seem to worry about territory anymore. Was she enjoying this life? The thought struck him like a blow. He steered her to the side of the path, out of the way of Twolegs. “Don’t you want to go back?”
“Of course I want to go back.” Dovewing blinked at him, her green eyes sparking as the rain pattered around them. “But I want our kits to be safe. It’s a long journey, and it might be dangerous.”
“But they need to grow up in a Clan, among Clan cats, with the warrior code, or they may never truly understand what it is to be a warrior. We need to get them home as soon as possible.”
“Even if that means endangering their lives?” Dovewing’s hackles lifted.
“Of course not.” Tigerheart’s fur prickled uncomfortably. “I’d never let harm come to our kits.”
“Then why are you in such a rush to leave? They’re only two moons old.” Dovewing didn’t wait for an answer. She turned away and hurried toward the guardian cats.
Heart pounding with anxiety, Tigerheart followed her.
He didn’t speak as Fierce led them on a tour of her favorite scrapcans. He waited while the others rummaged through the trash, and he gathered up the scraps they tossed down and hid them. As they headed down another wet alley, he glimpsed movement at the end. Something small was scuttling there. He opened his mouth, letting damp air bathe his tongue. Prey. Narrowing his eyes, he made out the slick pelts of several black rats. They were swarming at the end of the alley where a tall mesh fence blocked the end.
“Look!” Tigerheart nudged Dovewing and jerked his muzzle toward the rats.
Fierce, in a scrapcan above them, stopped delving. Ant and Spire paused. They followed Tigerheart’s gaze.
“Let’s catch them,” Tigerheart flexed his claws eagerly.
“But this can is full.” Fierce dropped a soggy scrap onto the ground.
“Fresh prey will be better for the sick cats,” Tigerheart pointed out. “Littlecloud used to say that warm fresh-kill was the best medicine.”
Spire nodded. “That scrawny tom we took in last quarter moon could do with some fresh meat.”
Dovewing shifted her paws. “I guess the kits have to get used to fresh-kill eventually.”
You guess? Tigerheart’s belly tightened. “Come on.” Without waiting, he hurried along the alley.
Dovewing and the guardian cats followed.
The rats were bunched against the mesh at the end. This would be an easy kill. Tigerheart swiped his tongue around his lips and dropped into a stalking crouch as he neared them. The others fanned out beside him.
The rat
s saw them. Fear sparked in their small, black eyes. They scrabbled against the fence, squabbling as they fought to escape. One squeezed through a gap where the mesh was torn. It escaped into the alley beyond. A moment later, the other rats broke through and streamed after it.
“Quick!” Tigerheart leaped to the fence and, seeing where the mesh was torn, tugged a curled edge with his paws. Triumph sparked in his chest as it gave easily and opened into a gap big enough to push through. The swarm of rats was already at the end of the alley. They disappeared around the corner as he scraped through the gap and raced after them.
He heard the guardian cats splashing through the puddles behind him as he rounded the corner and spotted the rats fleeing downhill. They were following the edge of a Thunderpath as it disappeared into a tunnel.
Dovewing caught up to him. “Where are they?”
“In there.” He nodded toward the tunnel and ran harder. Dovewing was at his tail as darkness swallowed him. Monsters roared through the tunnel, their blazing eyes illuminating the stone walls. Tigerheart glimpsed the rats in their eye beams. They were running for the light at the far end.
Tigerheart glanced over his shoulder. Fierce, Spire, and Ant were catching up, and as he neared the end, they spread out beside him. He charged out into the rain with them at his side. “There they go!”
The rats were streaming away from the Thunderpath, toward a vast field of trash piled high beside water. “We have to catch them before they reach the trash.” There was no way they’d be able to follow them into the chaotic mess of discarded Twoleg litter. He pushed harder, leading the patrol close to the trash. If they could steer the rats away from it, they could catch them. He was close now, herding the rats toward a muddy ditch at the bottom of a slope. The ditch would crowd them together and slow their flight. Stragglers would fall behind, and it would be easy to pick them off.
Suddenly the rats veered sideways. Tigerheart blinked in surprise as the terrified prey cut across his path. He lunged for them, but he’d been caught off guard. They streamed around him, slipping around his paws. He stretched his claws, trying to get a grip on the wet stone as the rats fled out of reach. What had made them change course? He glanced up the slope. Fog and Tuna were pounding toward him, a white tom at their heels. Their eyes were fixed on the rats, which swarmed into the trash field, where they scattered. Fog, Tuna, and the white tom pulled up as the rats disappeared among the heaps of stinking litter.
“You scared them away!” Tigerheart faced the strays angrily.
“Why didn’t you stop them?” Fog blinked at him. “They were right under your paws.”
“Have you ever tried catching rats before? They’re fast and they’re slippery.” Tigerheart jerked his nose toward the ditch. “I had a plan and you ruined it! You drove them straight into the trash field.” These cats hunted like mouse-brains. As Fierce slewed to a halt beside him, Tigerheart glared at her. “This is why you need borders!” he snapped. “If you knew where your land was, you could hunt there without other cats interfering with your catch.”
Ant, Spire, and Dovewing reached them and stared at the strays.
Tuna stared back. He nodded to the white tom. “These are the cats we mentioned, Streak.”
Streak looked at them through narrowed eyes. “Are they the ones who live inside that big, warm, dry den?”
Tigerheart glared at Fog. “You promised to keep out of our way.”
She flicked her tail. “You told us not to scavenge. We’re not scavenging; we’re hunting.”
Fierce shook rain from her pelt. “Let’s go back to the scrapcans. The rats are gone, and there’s more shelter in the alleys.”
“Don’t you care that they frightened our prey away?” Tigerheart didn’t wait for an answer. “We must establish borders now. We need to know which land belongs to us and which belongs to them.”
Fog looked toward the trash heaped over the field. “You can have this land,” she offered.
Fierce wrinkled her nose. “The scraps here are rotten.”
“But there are plenty of rats for you to hunt.” Fog caught Tigerheart’s eye scornfully. “Go ahead.”
The stench wafting from the trash made Tigerheart feel sick. “No, thanks.” If he’d known this was where the rats scavenged, he’d never have chased them.
Spire shivered. “I’m getting cold. Let’s go back to the scrapcans. It smelled like there were bones in them.”
Streak’s eyes lit up. “Which cans?”
Tuna licked his lips. “We could help you look.”
“I told you not to scavenge where we scavenge.” Tigerheart unsheathed his claws.
“And I told you, this is the city. We can scavenge where we like.” Fog’s eyes suddenly darkened.
Tigerheart glimpsed menace there. These cats meant trouble. “We need borders,” he growled.
“Borders need patrolling. It sounds like a lot of effort.” Fierce flicked raindrops from her ears.
“She’s right,” Fog sniffed. “It would be better to spend the time scavenging.”
Tuna whisked his tail nonchalantly. “The city is full of cats. It’s pointless making boundaries.”
Spire agreed. “We’d just have more to fight over. I don’t want to waste herbs treating battle wounds.”
“Live and let live.” Fierce headed toward the tunnel.
“Life’s too short to bother with grudges.” Fog headed up the slope, Tuna and Streak at her tail. Spire and Ant padded after Fierce.
Tigerheart watched them go. “I don’t trust her,” he told Dovewing.
“Who? Fog?” Dovewing blinked at him. “She’s just another stray. You know what city cats are like. They like an easy life.”
“An easy life.” Tigerheart snorted. “There’s no such thing.”
“The guardian cats seem to have a pretty easy time.”
“They need to learn to defend themselves.”
“Why fight if you don’t have to?” Dovewing touched her nose to Tigerheart’s cheek. “I know you miss your Clan. But we’re not going to change these cats. Why bother trying?”
She turned and followed Fierce, Ant, and Spire.
Why fight if you don’t have to? Tigerheart stared after her. Of course they’d have to, one day. The city was crowded. There was little space to roam or scavenge undisturbed. Sooner or later, they’d find themselves competing for the same scrapcans. With so many cats and no borders, eventually their lives would descend into an endless running battle.
Icy rain soaked deeper into his fur. Why did city cats have so little honor? They were hardly better than foxes. And Dovewing was starting to agree with them. His heart ached. He missed the warrior code. He missed feeling proud at the end of a hard day’s patrolling. Was he the only cat here who saw himself as more than a scavenger?
CHAPTER 21
“Why are there more nests now?” Lightkit looked out from beneath the ledge that sheltered their nest, while behind her, Shadowkit chased Pouncekit around its wooden legs.
Tigerheart followed the kit’s gaze to the two new heaps of furless pelts, which Bracken, Boots, and Spire had assembled. “Mittens and Rascal found two sick cats while they were out scavenging yesterday. They brought them back so the medicine cats can look after them.”
Lightkit blinked at him. “How come you call them medicine cats when everyone else calls them healers?”
“Because that’s what we call healers back home,” Tigerheart explained.
Pouncekit skidded to a halt beside them. Shadowkit bundled after her, his tiny paws slipping on the shiny floor.
“Dovewing says that home is such a long way away it would take days and days to walk there,” Pouncekit mewed.
“Will we ever go there?” Lightkit asked eagerly.
Shadowkit shifted his paws. “It’s dark in the forest.”
Tigerheart glanced at him sharply. How did he know what the forest was like? Tigerheart had talked of trees and prey, but not of light and shadow. And the kit had spoken solemn
ly, as though his words carried hidden meaning. This one will see into the shadows. Spire’s words rang in his mind. Did Shadowkit know something? Had shadows swallowed his Clan? Tigerheart swallowed back fear. Don’t be dumb! How could a kit know what was happening in ShadowClan? He’d never even been there. Dovewing had probably told the kits how dark the pine forest could be. It probably did seem dark to her. She was ThunderClan after all. “The woods are shadowy,” he conceded. “But when you train to be warriors, you’ll find the shadows are your friend. You can hide in shadows, or keep cool in them, or shelter there from bad weather.”
“I don’t want to hide in shadows.” Lightkit gazed up at the clear stretches of wall. Blue sky showed beyond. “I like sunshine.”
Pouncekit padded toward the middle of the den. “Can we go and look at the new cats?”
“No,” Tigerheart told him. “They’re sick. Leave them in peace.”
“But Spire gets to look at them,” Pouncekit argued. The healer was leaning over one of the new nests, where a black-and-white tom was wheezing.
“He’s taking care of them,” Tigerheart explained. His gaze drifted longingly toward Fierce. The tortoiseshell was padding between Cobweb, Ant, Rascal, Mittens, and Dotty. They were going on a special patrol.
Fierce and the other guardian cats had been talking excitedly about it for days. “We call it the outdoor gathering,” Fierce had told him. “Every moon, Twolegs set up ledges in the biggest stone clearing in the city and pile food on them, right out in the open, even when it’s raining or snowing. There’s smoke and some fire. The smells are delicious. It’s easy to scavenge. There are Twolegs everywhere, but no one looks at what happens under the ledges. Sometimes they drop food. Sometimes we can reach up and take it. Some of the ledges are covered with meat.” Fierce had paused to lick her lips hungrily. “Meat like you’ve probably never seen or smelled before. We always feast well after the outdoor gathering.”
Tigerheart wanted to join the patrol. Hurry up, Dovewing! He glanced at the den entrance. She’d gone out to make dirt. He couldn’t leave the kits. Perhaps Blaze and Peanut would watch them again. His heart leaped as he saw a gray pelt beyond the clear stretch of glass beside the entrance. Dovewing slid through.