Fierce dipped her head and began to lead the patrol through the bushes. Tigerheart pricked his ears. The fox had been here recently, but he knew that foxes tended to sleep during the day. Perhaps they’d catch it napping. He picked up a fox scent and whispered to Fierce. “This way.” Heading into a stretch of long grass, he followed the scent trail that drifted from the green stems. The Thunderpath soaring overheard cut a wide shadow over the slope. Tigerheart shivered in the chilly wind that funneled beneath it. Cobweb and Ant pressed close behind. Cinnamon and Fierce followed. As Tigerheart led the patrol uphill, a huge monster roared on the Thunderpath at the bottom of the slope. He flattened his ears against the roar and narrowed his eyes, scanning for movement ahead.
A growl sounded beside them. Tigerheart’s chest tightened. The fox! He turned, unsheathing his claws as red fur exploded from the grass. It sent Cobweb and Ant tumbling. Tigerheart smelled dog fox. Thinking fast, he leaped as it snapped at Cobweb, who was struggling to find his paws. Hooking his claws into the fox’s fur, Tigerheart tugged it back in time for Cobweb to escape.
Ant was already back on his paws. With a hiss, the tom swung a paw at the fox’s nose. The fox lunged at him, its eyes sparkling with rage. Ant ducked just in time and, dodging beneath the fox’s chin, spun and aimed another blow at its muzzle. Fierce leaped onto the fox’s back and sank her teeth into its shoulder. Cinnamon snapped at its hind paw and sank in her teeth. The fox yelped and shook Fierce off, turning to snarl at Cinnamon.
Tigerheart hesitated, watching the guardian cats fight. They were brave and fast, but their attacks were hasty and uncoordinated. Each cat fought as if facing the fox alone. Each attack distracted the fox from the one before, but none was fierce enough to frighten it. They’re just making it angry. Tigerheart could see frustration flashing in the fox’s eyes as it responded to each assault, turning to meet one and then another. With a sudden bark of rage, it darted at Cobweb, sank its teeth into the tom’s spine, and shook him. Cobweb shrieked with pain and fear.
Tigerheart flung himself beneath the fox’s belly. “Bite its tail!” he ordered Fierce. “Get on its back!” he yowled at Ant. “Claw its throat!” he told Cinnamon. As the three guardian cats leaped to obey, Tigerheart twisted under the fox’s belly and began churning his hind paws at the soft flesh above him.
As the cats swarmed around him, the fox yowled in pain. Cobweb dropped to the ground. His flank thumped the earth, and for a moment, he was still. Tigerheart glanced at him. Was he dead? Then the smoky gray tom twitched and groaned on the grass. The fox turned on the others. Tigerheart darted from beneath its belly and leaped to stand beside them. The fox stared at them as Cobweb scrambled to his paws. Tigerheart felt a surge of triumph as doubt flashed in the fox’s eyes. It’s scared.
Suddenly the fox’s gaze flicked past them. Its expression changed in an instant. Joy, so malicious that it made Tigerheart’s blood freeze, sparked in its eyes. A growl sounded behind them. Two foxes. He spun and saw a vixen padding toward them, her teeth bared.
“Cobweb! Get up!” Tigerheart stared desperately at the injured tom. “We’ve got to get out of here.” These cats didn’t have the skill to fight two foxes at once.
Fierce flung herself toward the dog fox, hissing and snarling, swiping her paws so wildly that it drove the fox backward. Ant darted toward Cobweb and nudged the smoky tom to his paws. Tigerheart turned to face the advancing vixen. Cinnamon pressed against his side. Together they reared as the fox leaped at them. Flailing wildly, they pushed it back. “Run!” He yowled at Fierce and Ant as they helped Cobweb down the slope. His gaze flicked to Cinnamon. “You too!”
She searched his gaze. “What about you?”
“I’ll follow,” he promised.
As she raced after her friends, Tigerheart faced the foxes alone. They slid together and snarled at him menacingly. Fear closed his throat. He wanted to give the guardian cats a chance to get Cobweb clear. But he couldn’t fight two foxes either. He backed away as they advanced. Blood roared in his ears. Showing his teeth, he bushed out his fur. As he glanced down the slope and saw Fierce guiding Cobweb and the others into the tunnel, the foxes rushed him. Their eyes glittered with glee. Swiping out one paw, then another, Tigerheart caught the muzzle of each. But they were on him. The force of their hard, strong bodies knocked him backward. He landed clumsily and turned. He had to flee. Hot breath bathed his tail as he hared down the slope. The tunnel was only a tree-length away. Run! The others had already disappeared into the shadows. He leaped for the entrance, panic scorching through his heart. Sharp teeth caught his tail. Agony seared like fire as he felt his fur rip. Ducking into the tunnel, he ran. Water sprayed out behind him as he pelted through the darkness. His tail shrilled with pain, and he glanced over his shoulder. Two pairs of eyes peered down the tunnel. The foxes had stopped at the entrance and were watching him flee.
Ahead, he could make out the shapes of the guardian cats against the flood of light at the far end of the tunnel. He splashed his way through and emerged a few moments after them onto the dirty strip of grass between two Thunderpaths. Deaf to the monsters streaking past either side, he stared wide-eyed at the guardian cats. “They’re mates,” he puffed. “The foxes are mates.” He saw by the darkness in Fierce’s eyes that she understood. If a pair of foxes had taken over their herb land, before long there would be cubs—and so many foxes that they would never be able to gather herbs there again.
CHAPTER 16
“We’re healers, not fighters.” Pipsqueak, a brown-and-white tom, squared up to Tigerheart in the middle of the cavern beneath the gathering place.
“But Fierce says the cats who stay on here each have their own role,” Tigerheart reminded him. “She said some heal, some hunt, and some guard.”
Dotty, a pale white-and-ginger she-cat, padded to Pipsqueak’s side. “Keeping watch and warning if danger is near is different from mounting an attack on a pair of foxes.”
In the two days since the fight with the foxes, Tigerheart’s tail had healed, thanks to the poultice Spire had smeared over the torn fur. At first Tigerheart had been concerned that Spire was inexperienced, because he kept mumbling, “Is this right?” as he prepared the salve. But after a while, he began to wonder—could Spire be seeking guidance from some unseen mentor?
The guardian cats’ herb store was running low, and a chill in the air warned that frost might come sooner rather than later. Frost would kill the leaves the healers needed to see them through leaf-bare. Besides, they needed to drive the foxes away before the pair settled into a den. They couldn’t afford to wait until any cubs were born; Tigerheart knew that as soon as the vixen was expecting, the foxes would be fighting for their young. It would be impossible to win a battle for the land, and the guardian cats’ precious herb source could be lost within a moon.
Tigerheart had assembled the guardian cats in a circle while Dovewing rested in their nest. He wanted to teach them how to fight.
Tigerheart glanced around the circle. Fierce hung back, curiosity flashing in her bright green gaze. Blaze was watching excitedly beside Spire. The strange healer’s gaze was drifting as usual, following the dust motes that hung in the shafts of sunshine cutting the air. Ant and Cinnamon shifted their paws impatiently. Tigerheart knew that they, at least, wanted to learn battle moves. Cobweb was still recovering from the bitemarks the fox had left on his back. But Boots, the one-eyed tabby who had tended to him, said the wound was superficial: Cobweb’s spine was unharmed. The long-furred gray tom watched from his nest now, his eyes still dull with pain while Boots sat beside him. Rascal and Mittens, the tabbies known best for their hunting skills, eyed Tigerheart with interest, exchanging glances as Pipsqueak and Dotty stared at him challengingly.
Peanut, a healer cat, caught Tigerheart’s eye. “We need to restock the herb store soon,” she mewed, flicking her gaze from Tigerheart to Dotty. “And if that means fighting, we should fight. Cats’ lives may depend on it.”
Dotty stared back at her.
“You won’t be doing the fighting,” she pointed out. “You’re a healer here. You barely hunt.”
Fierce padded forward at last. Tigerheart’s belly sparked with hope.
“If you don’t want to fight, then don’t fight,” she mewed casually.
Tigerheart stared at her. “You should encourage them!”
Her eyes widened. “Why me?”
“You’re the leader.” She acted like one, and all the cats dipped their heads in respect when they greeted her.
“You seem to have misunderstood.” Fierce flicked her tail. “We are equals here. This isn’t a Clan.” She spoke the word as though the strangeness of warriors was beyond her understanding.
Irritation pricked in Tigerheart’s pelt. “If you want to protect your territory, you’re going to have to start thinking like a Clan.”
“We don’t have territory,” Dotty mewed querulously. “We simply shelter here and take care of one another.”
“What’s the land you gather herbs on if not territory?” Tigerheart challenged.
“It’s just land,” Pipsqueak meowed.
Tigerheart’s ears twitched. “So you don’t mind foxes taking it?”
“Of course we mind,” Pipsqueak snapped. “We need the herbs.”
“Then you’re going to have to fight for them!” Tigerheart raised his voice, looking pleadingly at Fierce. Hadn’t she asked him directly for this help? Why wasn’t she supporting him now?
Fierce padded around Pipsqueak and Dotty. “This warrior does have a point,” she mewed casually. “We all joined this community because we needed help or shelter. Without herbs, some of us wouldn’t be here now, and we owe it to future visitors to give them the same care we received.”
Pipsqueak tipped his head thoughtfully. “Are you telling us to fight?”
Tigerheart’s belly fluttered with hope.
Fierce glanced into a shaft of sunlight. “If we learn fighting skills, we can drive the foxes away and gather all the herbs we want. But it’s your choice. Learn to fight or don’t. It’s up to you.”
Dotty narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to let this warrior teach you how to fight, Fierce?”
“Of course.” Fierce stopped in front of Tigerheart. “I think he has a lot of useful knowledge. It seems foolish not to learn from him.”
He blinked at her gratefully. She was going to convince them!
Ant padded forward. “I want to learn how to fight too.”
“And me.” Cinnamon joined him.
Rascal and Mittens looked at each other.
“There are foxes everywhere in this city,” Rascal meowed.
“And dogs.” Mittens whisked his tail. “We’d be pigeon-brained not to learn some fighting skills from a warrior.”
Tigerheart blinked at Pipsqueak and Dotty. Were they going to agree too?
“I guess there’s no harm in learning,” Pipsqueak conceded.
“So long as this outsider doesn’t start thinking of himself as our leader,” Dotty mewed.
“We’re equals here,” Pipsqueak reminded Tigerheart.
“I only want to help.” As Tigerheart dipped his head modestly, his thoughts flitted back to ShadowClan. Scorchfur and Snowbird had practically begged him to lead them. Here the cats didn’t want anyone to lead them, especially not him. His frustration with the guardian cats melted away. It felt good not to be weighed down by responsibility. These cats only wanted to learn a few battle moves that would help them save their herb patch. Their simplicity warmed him, and he purred. “Let’s start.” He padded to the center of the cavern and dropped into the first battle crouch Oakfur had ever taught him. He looked around at the watching cats. “This is the easiest position to launch most battle moves from.”
Before long, the guardian cats were practicing moves on one another while Tigerheart wove among them, adjusting crouches and advising which paw was the best to lead with or to push back on. As he moved from one cat to another, he remembered training Sleekpaw. He had spent long days in the forest with his apprentice, going over moves that could defeat ThunderClan, or confuse a RiverClan cat, or unbalance a lithe WindClan warrior. That was before the apprentices had turned on their own Clan, before the rogues had come and trouble had torn ShadowClan apart. The memory pierced his heart like a thorn, and he jerked his thoughts back to the present. These cats were learning how to defeat foxes, not warriors. There were no rogues here, or Clans to betray.
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 an
d 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.