Эрин Хантер - Tigerheart’s Shadow

Tigerheart looked toward the nest where Dovewing was sleeping, her chin hooked over the side. She looked so peaceful and content, her eyes closed, her ears twitching as she dreamed. She and their kits were all he needed to worry about now.

Fierce’s mew surprised him. “I think we’ve learned enough basic moves. We need to come up with a plan.”

Dovewing opened her eyes and gazed sleepily at the cats. Tigerheart blinked at her reassuringly and turned to Fierce. “A plan to deal with the foxes?”

Fierce nodded.

“We need to remember that we are not fighting alone, but together.” Tigerheart remembered the skirmish on the slope. The cats had fought bravely but had been uncoordinated. He looked seriously around the guardian cats, who had turned to face him. “Be aware of the cats around you. Fit your moves with theirs. Let your attacks fill gaps they have left. See openings you can use, and always distract your enemy if you see your Clanmate in trouble.” He corrected himself as he saw confusion flutter in their gazes. “If you see your friend in trouble.” He hesitated. Did these cats see one another as friends, or merely as cats they lived beside?

Gray fur moved at the edge of his vision. Dovewing was padding toward them. “I’ve been thinking about how to start the attack on the foxes.” She stopped beside Tigerheart and sat down heavily, clearly still sleepy. “If the patrol can take up positions around the slope, one cat can wait in the middle as bait.”

“Bait?” Tigerheart looked at her, unease rippling through his fur.

“To make the foxes think there’s no threat, so we can catch them off guard.” she explained. “A cat who looks harmless.” She shifted her swollen belly as though it was uncomfortable. “Like me.”

“No!” Fierce cried out before Tigerheart could open his mouth.

“How could you put your kits in danger?” Dotty looked at her in shock.

“You’re too fat to run away,” Ant pointed out.

Tigerheart stared at Dovewing sternly. “You’re not going anywhere near the herb patch.”

“But I want to help,” Dovewing objected. “And I’ll worry about you if I’m not there.”

“I could be the bait.” Spire padded forward. For once, his gaze was fixed on the other cats. He looked from Fierce to Tigerheart, his yellow eyes glittering. “I’m skinny and small, and I look harmless and half-crazy most of the time.”

“You don’t look half—”

Spire cut Fierce off. “I know my thoughts wander and I often seem lost. But I’m no fool. These foxes need to go. That herb patch is important. I’m fast on my paws, and I trust you to protect me.” His gaze swept around the guardian cats.

They nodded solemnly.

“Are you sure?” Fierce asked. “You’ll need to keep your mind on what you’re doing.”

“I’m sure,” Spire promised her. “And I will.”

Tigerheart searched the strange tom’s gaze anxiously. “You’ll… concentrate ?” He still wasn’t sure what to make of Spire’s conversations with invisible cats. Surely he couldn’t be talking to StarClan. But Tigerheart couldn’t help worrying what might happen if one of them suddenly wanted to talk to him while he was out playing fox bait.

Spire flicked his tail. “Yes.” He winked at Tigerheart. “I know you think I’m a featherbrain, but there’s more to me than meets the eye. You’ll grow to like me eventually. We might even become friends one day.”

Tigerheart blinked at him. Would they be here long enough to become good friends with any of these cats? Once Dovewing had kitted and the kits were weaned and ready to travel, he’d thought that perhaps he’d be able to persuade Dovewing to return to the Clans. And yet, why should they? He liked the simplicity of this group: There were no leaders, no grudges, and no responsibility except to take care of the weak. Did he really want to rush back to a Clan on the brink of collapse and be caught up once more in a storm of distrust, betrayal, and recrimination?

Blaze bounced forward and began brushing around Spire. “You’re so brave! I want to come with you. I could be bait with you. A fox wouldn’t suspect a kit.”

Spire touched his muzzle to the top of the kit’s head. “You have to stay here with Dovewing. You can keep her busy so she doesn’t worry about Tigerheart.”

Tigerheart’s whiskers twitched with amusement as the healer flashed him a knowing look. Spire knew exactly how to distract Blaze—perhaps he wasn’t so crazy after all.

Blaze puffed out his chest. “I can do that.” He hurried toward Dovewing. “I’m the best at keeping cats busy. Spire tells me I keep him busy all the time. With me around, you won’t even think about Tigerheart.”

“She won’t need to.” Fierce lifted her chin. “With a little more training, we will be able to fight those foxes off easily.”

Rascal narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “How do we make sure they stay away?”

Mittens nodded. “We don’t want to have to fight them every time we gather herbs.”

The guardian cats looked toward Tigerheart expectantly. He blinked at them. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t told them already. “That’s simple. We’ll block up their den. My mentor taught me that if you block a fox’s den, it never comes back. Foxes are far too lazy to dig the same den twice.”

Fierce padded around the circle of cats, her tail whisking. “Let’s get back to training then. The sooner we drive those foxes away, the better.”

The next day, as the sun lifted over the soaring Thunderpath and cast the herb patch into shadow, Tigerheart crouched between the bushes near the top. From here he could see the scrub and grass twitching below. The guardian cats were hiding there. In the center, where the foliage opened onto a clear stretch of grass, Spire padded around distractedly. He gazed into the air and batted invisible prey. Tigerheart hoped he was pretending.

When he saw the gleam in Spire’s eyes, he realized that the skinny tom knew exactly what he was doing. With a flick of his tail, Spire lifted his head and let out a mournful yowl.

Tigerheart’s pelt prickled. That would get the foxes’ attention, surely?

A growl sounded from the top corner of the patch, where the stone leg of the soaring Thunderpath reached into the earth. Tigerheart jerked his muzzle toward the sound and saw a red pelt streak through the scrub. It darted toward Spire, lips drawn back in a threatening sneer. Spire blinked at it, then shot away beneath a low-spreading juniper. As the fox raced after him, Fierce exploded from her hiding place. With a hiss, she swiped her claws along the fox’s flank.

It turned, snarling at her, its gaze turning quickly from surprise to fury. Slinking low to the ground, it advanced on her. Tigerheart forced his paws to stay still. He wanted to rush in to help, but he had to trust that the guardian cats would stick to their plan. Relief sparked in his belly as Cinnamon and Ant leaped from their hiding place and flanked the fox. Pipsqueak leaped out behind it. The fox was surrounded. It spun, its long body curving as it took in the sight of four cats. Alarm sparked in its gaze. It showed its sharp teeth and dropped its head. Tigerheart’s breath caught in his throat. A cornered fox was more dangerous than a full set of badgers. Wildness shone in its eye, and it lunged for Fierce, its jaws snapping at her paws as she leaped clear. Cinnamon and Ant leaped at its flanks, tearing at its pelt with outstretched claws. Pipsqueak caught hold of its tail and bit in hard.

Yelping with pain, the fox thrashed desperately as the guardian cats clung on. Fierce hissed at it and raked her claws across its muzzle.

Tigerheart still held his breath. The vixen must be close. Foxes rarely left each other’s side once they’d mated. He saw red fur near the Thunderpath leg. That must be where the den was. “She’s coming!” With a yowl, he charged forward, blocking the vixen’s path to its mate. As it crashed from the undergrowth, he faced it. Anger bristled through its pelt as it saw him. Instantly it tried to snatch at his ear, its jaws snapping shut a whisker away as he ducked clear. With relief, he saw Rascal and Mittens dart from their hiding places. Dotty leaped from hers, aiming for the second fox’s tail as they’d planned. As she sank her teeth into the thick brush, Rascal and Mittens copied Cinnamon and Ant’s tactic and leaped for the vixen’s flanks. Tigerheart faced its muzzle, triumph surging in his chest. It staggered under the weight of the others. He swiped his claws across its nose. Confusion and panic lit its eyes. Its mate had been dragged to the ground. Fierce, Ant, Cinnamon, and Pipsqueak clawed at it with such speed and ferocity, it could only flail its paws and snap. With a yelp, the vixen called to its mate. The dog fox scrabbled free of its attackers. Shrieking in terror, both fled through the scrub, their shredded tails bobbing behind them as they disappeared from the herb patch.