‘Looking for Varjak Paw,’ said Elyza Scratch.

  ‘That cat’s an outlaw. Sally Bones wants him, dead or alive. He’s ours.’

  Dead or alive, thought Varjak. What difference does it make any more? I’ve lost Holly, I’ve lost Mrs Moggs, and now I’ve lost the power. I’ve got nothing left. Absolutely nothing.

  ‘If we find him, he’s ours,’ said Elyza Scratch. ‘This is neutral ground.’

  The patrol leader shook his head. ‘Nothing’s neutral now. These are our streets, and this is our law.’

  ‘Our claws are the only law we know!’ snarled Elyza. ‘These streets have always been free for everyone.’

  ‘Those days are over. The city belongs to our gang, and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

  Elyza’s tail thudded in the rubble. ‘Are you disrespecting the Scratch Sisters?’ she said menacingly. ‘Because Scratch Sisters never, ever back down.’

  They unsheathed their claws. Their pale green eyes narrowed to slits. They were out-numbered, but they knifed forwards, bristling at the Bones gang.

  ‘Then it’s time we taught you some manners!’ snarled the patrol leader.

  The two forces came together in a frenzy, fighting savagely on the street. Dust and debris swirled around them. Cludge kept well away, but the momentum of the fight was already taking them out of the alley. Watching behind bars, it seemed to Varjak that the Scratch Sisters were the better fighters – their claws flashed with stunning speed – but the Bones cats would win through sheer weight of numbers. Three of them swarmed all over a Scratch Sister, and she cursed violently; but they were gone from view, round the corner, before he could see what happened next.

  Tam groaned with relief. ‘That was so close!’

  ‘They’ll be back,’ said Omar. ‘We’ve got to get out of here.’

  ‘We can’t leave the secret alleys!’ cried Tam, her fur and whiskers ruffled. ‘It’s the only safe place – Holly always said so!’

  ‘Well, it’s not safe any more,’ said Omar. ‘We have to find somewhere else – right, Varjak?’

  Varjak couldn’t answer. It hurt too much, even hearing Holly’s name.

  Yet he knew Omar was right. They had to leave the secret alleys, or they’d be found, and then Holly’s sacrifice would mean nothing. He didn’t want to face the city streets again, without his power – but he couldn’t give up now. I have to go on, he told himself. I have to find somewhere safe for us all. Because that’s what Holly would do.

  He slipped out through the railings to find Cludge. The big dog was hiding in the rubble, by an old cardboard box.

  ‘Cludge scared!’ he was muttering. ‘Scary cats come back! Want to go!’

  One by one, the others followed Varjak out of the secret alleys, into the winter afternoon. ‘So it’s true?’ said Omar. ‘You’re really friends with a dog?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Varjak, huddling against the cold. ‘Cludge, these are our new friends: Omar and Ozzie, and Jessie.’

  ‘Cludge!’ barked the big dog. He wagged his tail at them. Jess smiled; but Omar and Ozzie’s manes ruffled up.

  ‘We can’t go round with a dog!’ said Omar. ‘He’ll give us away. Doesn’t he know any other dogs? Doesn’t he have a family?’

  Cludge whimpered. Varjak frowned. Holly had once asked the same questions. Then, as now, Cludge had looked like a frightened puppy.

  ‘Cludge is our friend,’ said Tam. ‘If he wants to come with us, he can come.’

  ‘But it’s dangerous,’ said Omar, his eyes flashing. ‘He’s a dog, Tam!’

  Varjak didn’t like the way Omar was speaking. He could see confusion in Cludge’s eyes; could see his great ears drooping. He turned on the stocky cat.

  ‘Didn’t you hear what Tam said? Cludge is our friend – and I’m not losing another one. He’s not being left behind.’

  Omar stared at Varjak – and then shrugged his rugged mane. ‘Whatever,’ he said.

  ‘All right, Cludge?’ said Tam. ‘You’re coming with us.’

  The big dog grinned, and wagged his tail again. ‘Friends!’ he barked. ‘Varjak and his friends!’ He looked around. ‘Where Holly go?’

  Varjak opened his mouth to answer – but he couldn’t. No words came out.

  ‘She’s somewhere else,’ said Tam quietly. ‘Now, where are we going?’

  No one had an answer to that. As they stood there in silence, the wind dropped, and the city grew still. Daylight was fading. Soon it would be night again.

  Jess cleared her throat. ‘What about Grandma’s tales?’ she said. ‘That secret city where it’s always warm, and there’s more mice than you can eat?’

  A big smile crossed Ozzie’s face. ‘I’ve heard that tale,’ he said. ‘We heard it when we were kittens – remember, Omar?’

  ‘I remember! But I don’t know anyone who’s been there, or even believes it.’

  ‘Holly always believed it,’ said Tam. ‘And so did I, deep down . . . Did Mrs Moggs ever tell you where it was, Jessie?’

  Jess shook her head. ‘She just said there was fearsome guardians outside, so cats haven’t been there for years—’

  ‘Cludge know the place,’ murmured Cludge. ‘Bad place. Smelly.’

  At first, Varjak thought he was joking. But Jess’s eyes had lit up.

  ‘That’s right,’ she breathed. ‘The most disgusting smell you can imagine – that’s what Grandma said!’

  ‘Do you really know this secret city, Cludge?’ asked Varjak.

  ‘No no no,’ said Cludge, obviously regretting that he’d mentioned it. ‘Not there. Not go back there—’

  ‘Back?’ said Varjak. ‘You’ve been there before?’ He looked deep into Cludge’s eyes, and again saw a frightened puppy, who didn’t want to go to a place that was clearly no joke. The sun was setting fast now. There wasn’t much time left till nightfall. ‘Cludge,’ he said, ‘if there’s a place you know that cats never go – please take us there.’

  Cludge shook his head. ‘No, Varjak, no—’

  ‘Please,’ said Varjak. ‘We need your help. It’s important.’

  Cludge looked at him. Then he looked away, eyes full of pain and fear and sadness.

  ‘Please,’ Varjak said again. ‘Whatever’s in that place, we’ll face it together. You won’t be alone, I promise.’

  ‘Not alone?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Come, then,’ sighed the big dog. ‘Come with Cludge.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  CLUDGE LED THEM away from the secret alleys, through the streets. It was night now, and the wind had dropped completely. Thick white mist descended on the city centre. It came right down to street level, where it crouched and coiled around the lamp posts, covering everything in damp, cold whiteness.

  Visibility was low. They couldn’t see far ahead through the mist. Sometimes Varjak smelled an unnatural, ghostly scent on the air, making his fur prickle. Sometimes he sensed the padding of paws, or the almost silent swish of claws.

  Once, they heard rowdy voices, and ducked into a doorway just as a patrol of four cats from Sally Bones’s gang came looming out of the mist. They had a wretched-looking Free Cat with them, an old tortoiseshell tom, and they were cuffing him around the head.

  ‘But I wasn’t doing nothing!’ protested the tortoiseshell.

  ‘You’re harbouring outlaws!’ said a Bones cat. ‘Tell us where to find Varjak Paw, or you’ll be an outlaw too – and we’ll have your ears, and your tail, and then we’ll rip out your whiskers, one by one—’

  ‘But I don’t know!’ he shrieked, holding up his paws. ‘No one knows!’

  ‘You’re either with us,’ spat the Bones cat, ‘or against us.’ They hit him again, silencing him.

  ‘I know that Free Cat!’ whispered Jess, crouching in the doorway. ‘He never hurt no one – we got to help him! Varjak, can’t you—’

  Varjak wished he could. He hadn’t wanted the power before; it had only brought him trouble. Now it was gone, all
he wanted was to have it back, to help his friends. But they had no idea he’d lost it. How could he tell them?

  ‘It’s too risky,’ hissed Omar, before Varjak could say anything. ‘Got to stay hidden.’ The patrol passed from view and out of earshot, into the misty night.

  Varjak and his friends came out of the doorway, very cautiously. The patrol was long gone now – but Varjak’s Awareness was still tingling. Were they being watched? All he could see was the white mist, moving silent as roadkill; all he could smell was the ghost scent of cats, thick upon it. He thought he heard someone mewling.

  ‘Who’s there?’ he called. ‘Show yourself!’

  ‘Varjak?’ came a weary-sounding voice in the distance. ‘Is that you?’

  And through the crawling whiteness came Old Buckley, with a ragged column of Free Cats behind him. They looked exhausted, but they were all right; they didn’t have Sally Bones’s mark upon them. Jess ran up to them, and they nuzzled each other hard.

  ‘Where’s Grandma?’ she asked Old Buckley.

  His thin face crumpled up, though he tried not to show her. ‘It was terrible, Jessie. Your grandma – she didn’t make it. They got her. They got lots of us.’ He shuddered. ‘Sally Bones left before dawn. Said she’d be back tonight.’

  Varjak’s throat was tight. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I – I let everyone down.’

  ‘No,’ said Old Buckley. ‘You was brave, trying to fight her. For a moment there, you gave us hope. But we never had a chance.’

  ‘Where are the others?’ said Jess.

  ‘Hiding,’ said Buckley. ‘They don’t want to be seen.’ He began to choke. ‘It’s awful, Jessie, what she done.’

  Varjak looked down. The city had become a place of horror. He couldn’t stop the horror. He couldn’t fight Sally Bones. But he could still help the Free Cats.

  ‘If they’re coming back, you can’t stay here,’ he said. ‘Come with us. We’re looking for Mrs Moggs’s secret city.’

  Old Buckley’s troubled face broke up into a smile. ‘Old Moggs,’ he murmured. ‘She loved a good tale.’

  ‘It’s no tale, Buckley!’ said Jess. ‘It’s true. Cludge knows it!’

  ‘Cludge?’ He looked up and saw the dog for the first time, and arched his back in fear.

  ‘It’s all right!’ said Jess. ‘He’s our friend – and he’s taking us to the city. Come with us, Buckley – you got to. Grandma would come, if she was here . . .’

  Old Buckley turned to his Free Cats. ‘All right. You lot stay here. Stay safe. I’ll come back and find you – if this place turns out to be real.’ They melted back into the mist, as Buckley joined Varjak and the others.

  Cludge led them on through the streets. They had to tread carefully, for anything could be hidden beneath the mist. The pavements were littered with smashed bottles and shards of glass. If only there were mice in there instead, thought Varjak as they walked. He was hungrier and colder than ever. Still, at least there was hope now; at least they were going somewhere.

  But the further they travelled, the clearer it became that Cludge was leading them westwards: towards Sally Bones’s territory.

  ‘This is mad,’ muttered Buckley. ‘Following a dog, to a place that don’t exist—’

  ‘It does, too!’ said Jess.

  ‘Maybe it exists, maybe it doesn’t,’ said Omar. ‘But why would a dog know it when we don’t?’

  ‘Don’t be mean to Cludge!’ said Tam. ‘If you ever listened to him, you’d realize he always tells the truth. I was scared of him too at first – but now I’d follow him anywhere.’

  Omar snorted. ‘Never thought you were a dog-lover, Tam!’

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Varjak. ‘If you’ve got a better plan, let’s hear it.’

  ‘But we’re just getting nearer to danger,’ said Old Buckley. ‘And—’

  aa-woooooooooooo

  An eerie howl tore through the night, silencing them all. Don’t come here, it seemed to say. Turn back now and go away. Varjak knew that sound. He’d heard it when they’d gone to rescue Jess.

  ‘What’s that smell?’ whispered Tam.

  Varjak sniffed the air. There was a disgusting stench wafting through the streets. And now Cludge was heading off the roadside, down a slope, towards a concrete structure in the distance.

  ‘There!’ he barked, tail stiff with tension. ‘There the place!’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ said Omar. ‘Look where he’s brought us! No one comes here – no one!’

  Varjak’s neck fur prickled, for Cludge had led them to the Storm Drain: the one place Holly had told him never to go. It was like a giant basin built of concrete, with rusting drainpipes and water towers along its banks. A stream of dark brown liquid ran through its centre.

  At the far end of the Storm Drain, he could see a gateway. It was the entrance to a drainage tunnel, an open hole in the earth. The brown stream slopped around its mouth, through some rusty bars, and down into the hole. It was raw sewage. It stank.

  A pack of dogs guarded this tunnel’s mouth. Twenty dogs, maybe more. Big, fearsome-looking dogs, their teeth flecked with spit, their hides heaving. They sprawled by the stream of sewage like they owned it. Most of them were sleeping. One of them was howling at the moon. Then it laid down its head, closed its eyes, and started to snore – deep, resounding snores that echoed round the Storm Drain like a pneumatic drill.

  ‘See?’ murmured Cludge. ‘Bad place. We go now?’

  ‘Where’s this city?’ said Varjak.

  ‘There is no city!’ said Old Buckley. ‘It’s all make-believe and tales!’

  Cludge shook his head. ‘In hole,’ he whispered. ‘City under city.’

  ‘City under city?’ said Varjak. ‘In hole?’ And then it came together in his mind, like a light flickering on. ‘You mean – the sewers?’

  ‘Yah!’ panted Cludge. ‘No cats there. Stinking place.’

  ‘You’re not wrong,’ said Tam, covering her nostrils with a paw. ‘It’s revolting! How can those dogs stand it?’

  Cludge shrugged. ‘Smells good to dogs. Smells sweet.’ He sniffed the air with his wet black nose, breathed in deep – and then shook his head violently, and stopped sniffing. He looked small and scared again. ‘But Cludge hate that smell now! Stinking, stinking, bad place!’

  ‘It’s gross,’ muttered Omar. ‘Can we go, Varjak?’

  ‘No, this is it!’ said Jess. Her blue eyes gleamed. ‘Grandma was right, see? Fearsome guardians and a disgusting smell – but it’ll be warm down there, and we’ll be safe.’

  Varjak nodded. ‘Sally Bones’s gang would never think of coming here.’

  ‘Why would they?’ said Old Buckley. ‘If the stench don’t kill you, them wild dogs will!’

  ‘Oh, but they won’t,’ said Varjak, a plan forming in his mind. ‘Not if a dog talks to them for us.’

  ‘This is insane,’ said Omar.

  Ozzie grimaced. ‘It smells so bad.’

  ‘It’s up to you what you do,’ said Varjak. ‘I can’t make anyone follow me. But that sewer is the safest place we could be.’

  ‘Cats don’t go down sewers!’ cried Old Buckley.

  ‘Cats can do anything,’ said Varjak. ‘Anything at all. No one thought I could talk to a dog – but I did, and now Cludge is my friend. This is the same. How about it, Cludge? Will you talk to those dogs for us, and explain that we need a place to hide?’

  Cludge shivered. ‘No, Varjak, bad dogs. Angry dogs. Not them. Please not—’

  His eyes were clouding up again, worse than before. Varjak could see he wouldn’t be able to persuade his friend. That meant there was only one thing for it. They needed a hiding place, and he was going to find them one – even if it meant facing a pack of wild dogs on his own. He didn’t need his power to do this. Just courage.

  ‘I am going to go down there and talk to those dogs,’ he said, as calmly as he could. ‘Cludge, if you’re my friend, you’ll come with me; I need you by my side. The rest of you, stay
here till I call you.’

  Varjak Paw didn’t wait for answers. He set off into the Storm Drain on his own – towards the pack of sleeping dogs.

  Chapter Nineteen

  VARJAK PADDED DOWN the Storm Drain’s concrete banks, and along the stream of sewage that ran through its middle. Ahead of him, the pack of sleeping dogs snored. Behind him, Cludge whined softly.

  ‘But – scary dogs – bad place – come back, Varjak!’

  Varjak walked on towards the dogs. With every step, the smell of sewage grew worse. It pricked the back of his nose. It made his eyes water.

  ‘Go with him, Cludge!’ he heard Tam say. ‘If you don’t, they’ll tear him to pieces!’

  Varjak followed the sewage. Still the dogs slept on. The stench was intense. He tried to close his nostrils and breathe through his mouth, but it made him cough –

  cough cough

  A dog shifted on its belly. Its yellow eyes opened – and then it saw him.

  ‘WOAH! WOAH! WOAH!’

  In a flash, the whole pack was up. Twenty dogs. All barking at Varjak. Snapping their teeth.

  Keep going, Varjak told himself. Cludge won’t let me down. He’s my friend. He won’t let me be torn to pieces by these dogs, they’re about to rip me to pieces, they’re going to bite my head off and – stop thinking about it! Just keep going!

  The dogs came out to circle him. One of them reared up on its hind legs and thrashed the air around him with sledgehammer paws. Still there was no sign of Cludge.

  The pack surrounded him, snarling wildly. Muscles and veins stood out on their necks. Their flanks heaved. The noise and stench were overpowering.

  i’m never going to make it

  they’re going to tear me to bits

  this is it

  here i come, holly, here i come to join you,

  wherever you are –

  – and then, from behind him, with a tremendous volley of barks, Cludge burst through the circle of dogs. He came crashing through them all to stand by Varjak’s side.

  ‘CLUDGE!’ he barked. ‘CLUDGE! CLUDGE! CLUDGE!’