“Are we tracking something?” Fuzzball asked loudly.
“Hush!” Tigerheart glared at the kittypet over his shoulder. If he carried on yowling like that, he’d scare their prey away.
Fuzzball looked apologetic and followed quietly for a few moments before yowling again. “I can smell something nice. Is that what we’re hunting?”
Ahead, a fat grouse fluttered noisily into the air, its beating wings sending dust swirling over the scrub.
Tigerheart flattened his ears in frustration. He turned on Fuzzball. “We’re not here to talk. We just hunt, okay?” he whispered through gritted teeth. He nodded to a side trail leading away between the bushes to one side. “I need you to go down there until you can’t see me anymore and then sit as quietly as you can and listen for badgers.”
“Badgers?” Fuzzball frowned at him, puzzled. “There aren’t any badgers here.”
“Then listen for foxes, or dogs.” Anything! Just keep out of my way. As he nodded Fuzzball away, he saw that Ajax had disappeared. He rolled his eyes as he thought, This is like leading a patrol of kits. Then he purred, remembering that he should try to get used to this. He would be seeing his own kits very soon, and—one day—he’d be teaching them how to hunt. “Where did Ajax go?”
“I don’t know,” Fuzzball answered cheerfully. “I guess he got distracted. There are lots of good smells here.” He looked along the trail where Tigerheart had nodded. “So I go that way, right?”
As he spoke, Tigerheart heard the thump of a rabbit’s paws. He stiffened, scanning the bushes for movement.
Fuzzball raised his front paws off the ground and peered over the top of the bushes like a squirrel. “I see a rabbit! It’s over there!” With a yowl he plunged into the undergrowth.
Pushing back frustration, Tigerheart strained to hear past Fuzzball as he crashed through bushes like a dog.
Ajax ambled along the trail toward him. “Caught anything yet?”
Tigerheart dug his claws into the earth. Why had he invited these two kittypets along? With all the noise they were making, he’d never catch any prey. He swallowed back irritation. Hunger was making him irritable.
Fuzzball’s yowl split the air. “It’s heading toward you!”
Tigerheart turned in surprise as brown fur flashed past him and disappeared between the bushes. He pelted after it, his fur prickling with excitement. The rabbit was plump but fast. It swerved beneath a sage bush. Tigerheart dived after it, his belly brushing the earth as he skidded under the low branches. The rabbit shot out the other side and veered toward the hillside, which sloped upward beside them. Tigerheart raced after it, fighting to keep his balance as he made a tight turn and cut across the rabbit’s path. It pulled up, its eyes wide with horror as it saw him. He slammed his paws onto its shoulders and made a fast killing bite.
Paws pounded toward him. “You got it!” Fuzzball’s excited face popped out from the bushes. He stared in delight at Tigerheart’s catch. “I flushed it out!” he announced proudly.
Tigerheart looked at him, swiping the blood from his mouth with his tongue. “Yes, you did.” Fuzzball was a mouse-brain. But he was good-hearted. And at least they’d caught prey. He picked up the rabbit and carried it toward an open stretch of earth on the hillside. Laying it down, he settled beside it, relishing the warmth of the evening sun as it began to melt behind the far hill.
As Fuzzball trotted after him and sat down, Ajax nosed his way from the bushes and sniffed the rabbit, his nose wrinkling. “What do we do now?”
“We eat it.” Tigerheart leaned forward and tore a lump of flesh from the rabbit’s flank. It was warm and juicy in his mouth. “Try some.” He pushed it closer to Fuzzball.
Fuzzball sniffed it gingerly, then grabbed a small mouthful. He chewed for a while and then mewed, with his mouth full, “It’s all fur.” He sounded disappointed.
“Here.” Tigerheart grabbed the rabbit in his paws and tore away a hind leg with his teeth. He laid the bloody stump in front of Fuzzball. “There’s plenty of meat there.”
Fuzzball stared at it, swallowed, then leaned close and took a second mouthful. He chewed unenthusiastically. “Is this what you eat all the time?” he asked warily, as though afraid of the answer.
“Sometimes we eat mice or voles or birds,” Tigerheart told him.
“Does it all taste like this?” He licked his lips clean and shuddered.
“Not really.” How could any cat think a rabbit could taste like a mouse or a bird?
Ajax sat down, keeping his distance from the rabbit. “I think I’ll wait till I get home. It doesn’t smell like real food. And it looks a bit bloody.”
“Of course it’s bloody. It’s prey.” Tigerheart blinked at him. Kittypets didn’t seem to enjoy anything about being a cat. He felt sorry for them. But they seemed happy, and he was happy too, here in the sunshine. The rabbit was tasty and it was all his. For once there were no Clanmates to share it with, and these kittypets didn’t seem to want any. If the journey was as long as Ajax had suggested, he’d need all his strength. He began to purr as he chewed. He’d found a trail that would lead him to Dovewing. He felt freer than he had in moons. His paws itched to begin the next part of his journey.
Quickly, he finished his meal, gulping down most of the rabbit. The kittypets had given up eating and watched him in awed silence, as though they were watching a squirrel chew its own leg.
He sat up and licked his lips, his belly full. “Thanks for your help.” He dipped his head to Ajax and Fuzzball.
Ajax looked along the Silverpath, which followed the valley and curved behind a hill. “You’re really going to walk?”
“Yes.” Tigerheart fluffed out his fur. For the first time he wondered if Dovewing had walked. Perhaps she’d found enough courage to climb into the Thundersnake’s belly. She’s braver than me. Would she forgive him for not making the journey with her? What if he found her and she sent him away? She can’t. They’re my kits too. He wanted to help her raise them. “I have to get going.” Standing here worrying wasn’t going to change anything. He headed toward the Silverpath.
“Good-bye!” Fuzzball called after him. “When you come back, will you take me to meet your Clan?”
Tigerheart glanced back at the orange tom, affection swelling in his chest. Dumb kittypet. He imagined the look on the faces of his Clanmates if he walked into camp with Fuzzball at his side. What if he tried to show them his hunting skills? Tigerheart’s whiskers twitched with amusement until a thought struck him like cold water. Would he ever walk into the ShadowClan camp again? Had he seen his Clanmates for the last time?
He quickened his step, forcing his thoughts forward as he reached the Silverpath. He hopped between the tracks and followed them, picking his way over the wooden slats and between the scattered stone chips. Dovewing lay at the other end. He lifted his chin as the sun dipped behind the hill and cold shadow closed over him.
By the time he’d followed the curve of the Silverpath around the foot of the hill, his paws were sore, grazed by the sharp stones. He jumped over a track and padded onto the grass at its edge. The grass was damp with dew and soothed his pads. The evening was deepening quickly into night. Stars specked the sky, and the moon showed, pale and distant. Tigerheart strained to see where the Silverpath led. It seemed to reach toward the hill rising ahead of him, but he couldn’t see its silver glint on the slope beyond it. Was a Thundersnake strong enough to haul itself up such a steep rise?
As he neared, he realized that the path seemed to end as it reached the shadowy base of the hill. Anxiety churned in his belly. Was this a dead end? Had he followed the wrong Silverpath? As he neared, peering into the darkness, he realized with a jolt that the Silverpath disappeared into the hillside. He narrowed his eyes, making out an opening. Was this a Thundersnake den? Had it taken the Twolegs into its underground lair? He stiffened against the fear sparking beneath his pelt and forced himself to keep walking. Don’t be such a kit, he told himself sternly. Why would Twole
gs get into its belly? They must know where it was going. Ajax had been inside, and it had carried him from his old Twolegplace to here. It must be a tunnel. Tigerheart relaxed a little. Of course it’s a tunnel. I just have to walk through it.
Heart pounding, he approached the yawning hole. The utter blackness inside alarmed him. Did Dovewing come this way? He stepped into the darkness and shivered as it swallowed him. Pressing against the smooth stone wall of the tunnel, he used it to guide him. His gaze, usually so sharp in darkness, could make out nothing except more darkness. He put one paw gingerly in front of the other, acutely aware of his whisker tips as he felt for obstacles ahead. An icy breeze swept his pelt as wind streamed through the tunnel. He fluffed his fur against the chill, his heart pounding as he strained hopefully to see moonlight.
As he walked, he glanced backward and saw that the opening behind him had disappeared into shadow. He was completely enclosed by darkness. A sound stirred his ear fur. He stiffened as he heard a low rumble. His whiskers quivered as the Silverpath beside him began to tremble. A light showed ahead. The end of the tunnel? Even as hope pricked in his belly, he knew he was wrong. The sour stench of a Thundersnake tainted the breeze. Its roar slowly grew as the light shone brighter. A Thundersnake was heading toward him.
Tigerheart froze in terror. Was there room enough to hide? Jerking into action, he squeezed himself against the side of the tunnel and pressed down onto his belly so that he was flat against the earth. The breeze hardened, battering his face like freezing water. Even when he narrowed his eyes to slits, the glare of the Thundersnake’s single eye stung his gaze. Its roar grew until Tigerheart thought his ears would burst. He flattened them and pressed himself harder against the wall and the earth. Tucking his nose under his paws, he braced himself for the Thundersnake to strike. It tore past like a hurricane. The earth shook. The air screamed. The Thundersnake’s roar seemed to howl into every part of him until he felt that its fury would tear him apart.
Then it was gone. The noise died; the wind dropped. For a moment, Tigerheart wondered if he’d been deafened. Then he heard water drip onto stone nearby. Limp with fear, he lay still until he stopped trembling. His heart slowed, and he steadied his breath. As he pushed himself shakily to his paws, exhilaration swept through him. I survived. He’d never felt so close to death before. Is this what losing a life feels like to a Clan leader?
He lifted his muzzle and padded on through the darkness, quickening his pace a little. He wanted to get to the end of this tunnel fast. Stubbing his claws on a stone in the dark would be far less awful than facing another Thundersnake.
As he hurried on, praying for moonlight, a new scent touched his nose. He stopped, his heart quickening. He leaned down, quickly sniffing the ground. Fluff tickled his nose, its scent so familiar that his heart nearly burst with joy. Dovewing’s fur! No blood, no fear-scent, just a few strands of her pelt, as though she had stopped to scratch an itch and had left a shower of fur behind. She had come this way! Tigerheart’s chest seemed to burst with joy. He was on the right trail. Dovewing had to be waiting for him at the end.
CHAPTER 12
Tigerheart woke, his heart pounding. He’d dreamed of ShadowClan. He’d been among them, but watching unseen, like a spirit from StarClan. They weren’t aware that he was there. He wasn’t even sure these dream cats would have known him, for they seemed to inhabit a reality he barely recognized.
The pines around the camp had seemed so thick they hid the sky. Darktail had stalked the clearing, and, hollow-eyed, his Clanmates had followed his orders to defend the border from a predatory SkyClan. Tigerheart had tracked them to the scent line and watched in horror as they battled desperately while SkyClan drove them back. Ivypool fought alongside SkyClan, her eyes shining with spiteful triumph as ShadowClan cats fell one by one. Scorchfur lay shrieking in agony, blood oozing from his flanks. Whorlpaw wailed over Snakepaw’s battered body. Flowerpaw backed away as Hawkwing snarled at her, lips drawn back. Snowbird dropped to her belly as Leafstar’s claws left red trails across the white warrior’s face. And all the while Darktail had slipped among the shadows, urging them to fight, driving ShadowClan to more suffering—never entering the battle, but always goading them to sacrifice more.
Tigerheart’s fur rippled as he pushed himself to his paws and blinked in the watery dawn light. The nest where he’d slept was hardly more than a pile of leaves, gathered in a drift against a fallen tree. He’d been traveling for days, following the Silverpath by day, hunting and sleeping by night. His paws ached from walking, and he felt colder each day. He’d grown almost numb to the roar and the wind of passing Thundersnakes and more than once had eaten prey one of them had killed. Or at least he guessed the Thundersnake had killed it, because he’d found it lying beside the track, sour with death. For the first time in his life he had tasted deer flesh. It was stale, not far from rotting, but he’d eaten it gratefully. He was ashamed to eat crow-food, but eating what the Thundersnake left gave him more time to travel.
Twoleg nests had grown more numerous in the past day. He’d slept farther from the track last night, away from the dens clustering around the Silverpath. He guessed he would reach another stopping place soon, where Twolegs could bustle in and out of the Thundersnake. He glanced around the small copse where he’d spent the night and tasted the air. He’d hunted and eaten before he slept, but he was hungry again. There were no fresh prey-scents left here. He would have to hunt as he walked.
As he padded from the shadow of the trees into a thin drizzle, last night’s dream haunted him. Guilt wormed in his belly. Had he left ShadowClan unprotected? StarClan, take care of them. He fluffed out his pelt against the rain and focused on Dovewing. She needed him. His decision to leave had been right. Hadn’t Puddleshine seen his shadow block the sun?
He pushed his way through the wet grass and slid between two dens, emerging onto the Silverpath beyond. A puddle gleamed where water pooled between the tracks. Thirsty, Tigerheart stopped beside it and drank. He shuddered at the foul taste and padded on, feeling queasy and longing for the fresh rainwater pools of the forest.
The rain was hardening, and the damp reached through his fur as he followed the Silverpath down a gentle slope, where the cluster of Twoleg nests thickened. He could smell Thunderpaths and hear the rumbling of monsters beyond them. The track reached deeper into the earth, the land rising on either side in steep banks until Tigerheart’s paws began to prick nervously. Twoleg fences walled the top of the banks. He was hemmed in now, like prey in a gorge. Ahead, a Thunderpath spanned the track, arching above it. Tigerheart glanced nervously over his shoulder. Don’t let a Thundersnake come now. He quickened his pace, hoping that the Silverpath would lead into countryside once more.
Ahead, a flat stone ledge sat squarely beside the track. Another stopping place for a Thundersnake. It was slick with rain. Tigerheart scanned the ledge nervously, relieved when he saw no Twolegs waiting there. As he hurried past it, a mouse darted across the track. He pricked his ears. His belly was still hollow, so he dropped into a hunting crouch and watched the mouse scamper over the track and scrabble up the steep slope onto the stone ledge. Eyeing it hungrily, Tigerheart wondered whether to follow. The ledge was deserted. It would be easy enough to jump up, catch the mouse, and carry it to eat in a quiet spot beyond the Thundersnake’s resting place. He was hungry enough to risk it.
The mouse scurried across the wide stretch of stone. Tigerheart leaped onto the ledge. He tracked it, his pads slapping softly against the wet stone. The mouse hurried for shelter where the ledge met a wall, and ran along the edge. Heart quickening, Tigerheart broke into a run, racing after the mouse. He leaped and caught it between his front paws. He hooked it up and snapped its spine in his jaws. The sweet odor of fresh prey flooded his mouth.
Suddenly, something clacked on the stone behind him. He turned to see a Twoleg walk onto the ledge. Another followed, then a third. Panic shrilled through his body as one turned and stared at him, its eyes widening in su
rprise.
Without thinking, Tigerheart raced for a pile of Twoleg shells. They were heaped on wooden slats, piled as high as the bramble walls of the ShadowClan camp. Gaps opened between them, large enough to squeeze between but small enough to hide in. He nosed his way inside the pile, the mouse still in his jaws. Wriggling deep, he caught his breath. The sound of Twoleg paw steps grew. Peering out between two shells, Tigerheart could see the ledge growing busy with more Twolegs. A Thundersnake must be coming. Once the creature had passed, the Twolegs would leave, and the ledge would be empty once more. All he had to do was wait.
He drew back as one of the Twolegs walked toward the pile of clutter. A heavy shell dangled from its paw. With a grunt, the Twoleg heaved it on top of the pile and walked away. The shells around Tigerheart shifted slightly, then settled again. Tigerheart drew back into the shadows and began to eat his mouse. No one could see him here, so he might as well satisfy the hunger growling in his belly.
As he swallowed the last morsel, he heard a Thundersnake rumbling to a stop at the ledge. Good. The Twolegs would be gone soon, and he could start traveling again. He settled in deeper among the shells.
Then, with a lurch, the pile of shells began to trundle toward the Thundersnake. I’m moving. Shock spiked through Tigerheart’s pelt as he felt the pile roll across the ledge, the shells rocking around him.
He tried to get out, but a shell was squashing his tail. As the pile of shells rolled into the gloom of the Thundersnake’s belly, he tugged it free and scrambled from the pile. His pelt bushed as he saw the gap in the Thundersnake’s side sliding shut. The bright air outside narrowed to a slit and, by the time he’d reached it, disappeared.
He pawed at the curious wall, as if his small claws could cut a hole through which he could pass. But it was useless.
I’m trapped inside the Thundersnake!
As darkness closed around him, Tigerheart tasted the air. It was rank and musty, the scent of Twolegs faint and stale. He peered out from the pile of shapes. Other piles and larger shells were strapped to the walls and fastened to the floor. Tigerheart felt a prickle of relief. This must be the part of the Thundersnake where Twolegs stored their clutter. He tried to steady his breathing. At least he wasn’t trapped with Twolegs.