He glimpsed Cobweb and Tuna. They were safe behind the next slab, crouching in the grass as they struggled for breath. As the sound of fox paws rang on the Thunderpath, Mittens, Rascal, and Pipsqueak leaped from behind a slab a few rows away and yowled at the foxes. Red fur streaked past Tigerheart, not even slowing. With a snarl of frustration, the foxes raced toward Mittens. The tabby zigzagged around the stones in one direction, drawing the lead fox away. Mittens doubled back around a slab, raked his claws across the vixen’s snout, and led her another way. Pipsqueak stopped in front of the third fox and, as it stumbled in surprise, veered toward the far side of the gathering place.
As the fox raced after him, Tigerheart saw Fierce and Ant explode from a passageway beyond the gathering place. Two foxes followed them onto the swath of grass as Dotty, Cinnamon, and Peanut ducked out from behind stone slabs. Deftly, they separated the pair. Peanut and Cinnamon led the larger fox one way; Dotty led the smaller fox another.
Tigerheart felt the world blur around him.
“Breathe,” Dovewing murmured into his ear. Like a half-drowned cat coming up for air, Tigerheart drew in a long, shuddering breath. Yowls and screeches filled the air around the gathering place. “Have they reached the traps?” he panted to Dovewing.
Dovewing was straining to see through the drizzle. “I don’t know yet.”
Paw steps sounded on the grass nearby. Fog appeared around the side of the stone slab. “What going on?” She looked from Tigerheart to Cobweb, her eyes widening as she saw Tuna. “Where have you been?”
Tuna sat up. “Catching foxes,” he panted.
As Fog stared at him wordlessly, Fierce crossed the grass to join them. Ant padded at her side, his paws trembling.
“I hope Pipsqueak and the others get them into the traps,” she puffed. “I don’t ever want to do that again.” She flicked her tail around to show Tigerheart. A tuft of fur was missing from the end. “One of the foxes got closer than I’d planned.”
Tigerheart blinked at her proudly. “But you made it.”
As he spoke, Pipsqueak bounded across the grass to meet them. “We got them!” he meowed triumphantly. “Every one of them. Blaze, Boots, Bracken, and Spire were waiting beside the traps. The foxes were so confused to see more cats, they practically fell inside!”
“What about the fifth fox?” Tigerheart asked anxiously.
“Mittens and Rascal rounded it up and chased it into the big trap over there.” He pointed across the grass with his muzzle. Red fur flashed inside the mesh cage. Angry screeches rose around the gathering place as the foxes howled in frustration.
Dovewing purred. “If they keep up that noise, it won’t be long before the Twolegs come to take them away.”
Tigerheart looked at Fog. The stray’s eyes were wide with amazement. “You led the foxes here?” she breathed. “Into the traps?”
Tuna purred breathlessly. “It was Tigerheart’s plan.”
Fog blinked at Tigerheart. “You’re even crazier than I thought.”
Tigerheart’s fur tingled with joy. “Now you have to keep your side of the agreement,” he meowed firmly. “You and your cats have to leave.”
Fog stared at him for a moment, then dipped her head. “Okay.”
“We can move back home,” Tuna meowed happily.
“It’ll smell of fox stench,” Fog grunted.
“Not for long,” Tuna promised. “It’s hardly changed apart from the smell. In fact I think the foxes have dug a few new nests in the rubble.”
“You have to go now,” Tigerheart told Fog. “Before the Twolegs come to get their traps.” He wanted the Twolegs to find the land around gathering place deserted. They’d probably believe the foxes had chased the cats away before being trapped.
Fierce stared at the Fog, her gaze hard. “Don’t come back,” she growled. “From now on, this is guardian-cat territory, and we’re ready to defend our borders.”
Fog blinked at her, surprise showing in her blue gaze. “Okay.” She dipped her head. She clearly didn’t want to argue with cats who could trap foxes.
Dovewing nuzzled Tigerheart’s ear. “Come on,” she murmured. “Let’s go and tell the kits.”
As he followed Dovewing across the grass, Fierce’s words rang in his mind: From now on, this is guardian-cat territory, and we’re ready to defend our borders. At last she was beginning to think like a warrior. Tigerheart’s chest swelled with pride. He suddenly felt hopeful that the guardian cats could survive anything. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad place to raise kits after all.
Chapter 26
“The kits!”
Dovewing’s alarmed cry jerked Tigerheart from his doze. He opened his eyes and saw her, pelt still ruffled from sleep, scanning the gathering-place den frantically. “Pouncekit! Shadowkit! Lightkit! Where are you?”
“They’re too small to reach the entrance by themselves.” Tigerheart lifted his head, irritated at being woken unnecessarily. “They’re probably just playing hide-and-seek again.”
Tigerheart and Dovewing had drifted to sleep in a pool of afternoon sunshine, their bellies full after a meal of Twoleg scraps. Now the sky outside had turned pink as afternoon slid into twilight.
Dovewing stared at him, round-eyed. “No, they can reach the ledge now! I caught them sniffing the entrance yesterday.”
Tigerheart scrambled to his paw. Had they grown so much? Only a few days had passed since the Twolegs had carried away the traps. With the foxes gone and Fog and her friends back at their old camp, life had returned to its easy routine.
“Blaze!” Dovewing crossed the den to where the ginger-and-white kit was nipping herbs from a twig. “Have you seen the kits?”
Blaze looked up. “Sorry,” he mewed, spitting out leaf flecks. “I’ve been busy. I didn’t notice.”
“Fierce? Mittens?” They were lounging at the far end of the den. “Have you seen my kits?”
Fierce jumped to her paws. “Are they missing?”
“I can’t see them anywhere.”
Mittens glanced at the entrance. “Have you looked outside?”
Tigerheart saw Dovewing’s pelt bush. He hurried to her side. “Let’s go and look.”
“Do you want help?” Cinnamon ducked out from her nest beneath a pile of Twoleg clutter.
“I’ll come too.” Pipsqueak left a half-chewed bone and padded to join them.
“What if they’ve wandered onto a Thunderpath?” Dovewing fretted.
“They’re too smart.” Pipsqueak jumped up to the entrance.
Cinnamon hopped after the brown-and-white tom. “I can smell their scent here,” she mewed. “I’m surprised no cat saw them leave.”
Pipsqueak nosed through the gap. “They probably waited until no cat was looking.”
“No, I saw them go.” Feather, the sick white she-cat, looked over the side of her nest. “But I didn’t know they weren’t allowed out.”
Tigerheart paused. He’d never told the kits not to go outside. He’d assumed they were too small to reach the entrance. He looked at Dovewing. “Did you tell them not to go out without us?”
Dovewing blinked at him. “Did you?”
Tigerheart’s pelt prickled guiltily. “I should have.” He was angry with himself for not thinking of it, and angry at being stuck in the city. He shouldn’t need to explain such simple rules to kits. In the Clan, no kit was allowed out of camp. Every cat knew the rule. Few kits dared to break it. They knew their apprenticeship might be held back for a moon as punishment.