Эрин Хантер - Tigerheart’s Shadow

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 rats 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.