Эрин Хантер - Tigerheart’s Shadow

Ant’s ears pricked. “Do you think it went down when she stepped on it?”

“And shut the trap!” Growler’s eyes shone.

“Let’s find out.” Cobweb hurried away toward a tree and returned carrying a stick.

Tigerheart’s chest tightened as Cobweb poked the stick through the mesh and touched the end to the strip. The trap snapped shut. Tigerheart’s pelt bushed with alarm.

Fierce blinked, her hackles lifting. “Twoleg fox-hearts!”

Cobweb lifted his muzzle triumphantly. “Now we know how to close them!”

Fierce padded away. “Come on. Let’s close the others.”

“Let’s hurry!” Cobweb followed her, tail twitching anxiously. “The sound of the traps shutting seems to attract the Twolegs.”

As they headed toward the next trap, Ant and Growler at their heels, Tigerheart paused. Fog had seen danger here. Now would be the best time to persuade her that they needed to do something about it… He called after Fierce. “There’s something I must do.”

She waved her tail in reply. Cobweb was already fetching a stick to close the next trap. Tigerheart turned and padded around the end of the gathering den. Fog was still standing beside Tuna, staring at where the monster had disappeared as though she could still hardly believe her eyes.

Tigerheart dipped his head as he reached her. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he meowed gently.

She turned on him. “You’re probably glad to see one of us gone,” she snapped.

Tigerheart shifted his paws. He had to handle this conversation carefully. “I’m never glad to see a cat fall into Twoleg paws,” he meowed. “I’m a warrior. I believe all cats should live free.” He caught Tuna’s eye. “But now you see that this is a dangerous place to live.” Tuna shifted his paws. “Perhaps you and your friends would be safer in your old home.”

“How could we be?” Fog demanded. “It’s full of foxes.”

Tigerheart changed tack. “Did you see us training earlier?”

“Do you call jumping around on the grass ‘training’?” Fog grunted.

“We wondered what you were doing.” Tuna looked curious.

“We were practicing battle moves, so we could drive the foxes away from your old home,” Tigerheart explained.

“Battle moves?” Tuna tipped his head.

“Where I come from, all cats learn how to fight,” Tigerheart told him. “We have to fight badgers and foxes and sometimes hawks. It takes special training to learn to fight bigger creatures.”

Fog glared at him. “There are five foxes living in our camp. Do you think that bunch of featherbrains will be able to fight them?”

Tigerheart felt his paws dig into the earth. Five foxes certainly sounded terrifying—but if he could convince Fog that he wasn’t scared, then maybe she’d believe that her cats stood a chance. “We could if you and your friends fought beside us.” He searched her gaze hopefully.

Tuna glanced at her. “We’d outnumber them,” he meowed.

“They’re foxes !” Fog snapped. “They could strip the fur off your muzzle and crush your spine in their jaws.”

“Not if I taught you how to fight.” Tigerheart’s chest tightened with hope. “And once you learned, you’d always be able to defend your land. You’d be safe forever.”

Tuna blinked encouragingly at Fog. “It would be nice not to have to sleep in grass nests anymore.”

“It would be nice to keep my pelt,” Fog growled. “I’m not risking it fighting foxes. Can’t you see? He’s trying to trick us.” She flicked her nose dismissively toward Tigerheart. “He wants us gone, and he’s willing to do anything to get rid of us, even if it means feeding us to foxes.”

“It sounds like a good plan,” Tuna persisted.

“It is a good plan,” Tigerheart pressed. “Two groups of trained cats could fight a whole pack of foxes.”

“Really?” Fog sneered at him. “In that case, train your friends. I’m not risking mine. If you manage to drive the foxes away, we’ll go home.”

Tigerheart’s belly twisted with disappointment, but he squared his shoulders. He wasn’t going to let this rogue-hearted stray think she’d won. “Do you promise?”

Fog looked at him warily. “Promise what?”

“That you’ll leave here and go home if we drive away the foxes.”

“Sure.” Fog turned her tail on him. “I promise.”

He watched her walk away, his heart sinking. The guardian cats could never fight five foxes alone. If only there were another way to get rid of them…

“Fierce!” Mittens’s yowl woke Tigerheart. He jerked up his head as the tabby tom jumped down from the entrance.

Dovewing opened her eyes and blinked anxiously at Tigerheart. “What is it?”

“I’ll find out.” Tigerheart slid gently from beneath Shadowkit and Pouncekit, who were sleeping on his flank. They murmured but didn’t wake as Dovewing scooped them close to her belly. He climbed quietly out of his nest, fluffing out his fur as he stepped into the chilly air. Most of the guardian cats were still sleeping. Soft dawn light filtered thought the clear stretches of wall. Fierce sat up sleepily in her nest as Mittens reached it.

The tabby glanced over his shoulder as Rascal squeezed through the entrance. “Did you find any more?” he called.

“Three.” Rascal hurried to Fierce’s nest.

“Find more what?” Fierce gazed blearily at the two toms.

“Traps,” Rascal meowed.

Tigerheart hurried to join them.

“The Twolegs have been back,” Mittens reported. “Their scent is so fresh they must have only just left.”

“They’ve taken all the traps we closed.” Rascal’s pelt prickled nervously.

“They’ve left new ones,” Mittens told her.

“Bigger ones this time,” Rascal chimed.

“Big enough to trap a fox.” Mittens’s eyes were dark with worry.

Tigerheart reached Fierce’s nest and glanced around the three cats. “Could we close them all again?”

Mittens flicked his tail. “What good would that do? They’d only bring more.”

Fierce gazed anxiously around the den. “Perhaps it’s time we moved on.”

“Where to?” Mittens demanded. “This is the quietest part of the city.”

Fierce’s pelt was still ruffled by sleep. It prickled along her spine. “I don’t know,” she mewed irritably. “I thought this place was safe.”

“It was, until Fog and her gang arrived,” Rascal growled. “The Twolegs didn’t know we were here.”

“We need to get rid of her,” Mittens grunted.

Fierce looked at Tigerheart. “What about your plan to get her cats to help us fight the foxes?”

Tigerheart shifted his paws. He hadn’t told the guardian cats about his conversation with Fog yet. “I asked her,” he confessed. “She said no. She said she’d go back to her old home if we drove off the foxes, but her cats won’t help us.”

“Did you find out how many foxes there are?” Fierce asked.

“Five,” Tigerheart told her.

Mitten’s tail twitched angrily. “We can’t drive off five foxes alone!”

Rascal looked up at a clear stretch of wall, narrowing his eyes against the light outside. “Perhaps we should fight Fog and her friends,” he grunted.

“We should shove them into those traps and let the Twolegs take them away,” Mittens growled.

Tigerheart twitched as a thought sparked in his mind. He wouldn’t drive any cat into the paws of Twolegs, but perhaps there was another way to use the traps. “We don’t have to give cats to the Twolegs,” he ventured. “But what if we gave them something else?”