Blaze peered over the edge. “It’s a long way down.” His voice was small, frightened—the young tom was not much bigger than Tigerheart’s own kits, after all.
“Jump toward me,” Dash called. “I’ll help break your fall.”
Tigerheart saw Blaze swallow as he crouched at the edge, his tail trembling. Then he launched himself toward Dash.
The station cat reared and wrapped his paws around Blaze as he fell. Deftly he swung him down between the tracks, then nudged him toward Ant and Cinnamon. Spire followed while Dovewing teetered at the edge.
“Don’t drop me,” Pouncekit wailed as Dovewing leaped down. As she landed, Tigerheart tightened his grip on Shadowkit’s scruff and jumped down beside her.
He followed Dash and Dovewing into the darkness of the tunnel. Cold wind streamed through his fur. It filled his nose. Through the stench of Thundersnake, he could smell the perfume of meadows and woods. The city seemed to be drawing in fresh air, like a breathing animal.
Dash slid into the lead. “Follow me.”
Tigerheart put Shadowkit down. “You don’t have to come any farther, Dash,” he said. “We can follow the tunnel to the end.”
The station cat’s eyes flashed in the darkness. “Do you think I’d have a moment’s peace knowing you and your kits were wandering down here alone?” he asked. “I’m staying with you until you reach daylight.”
Tigerheart felt a wave of gratitude toward the black-and-white tom, and realized that he was surprised at how willing Dash had been to help. He’d expected a city cat to only care about himself. But then he remembered Fog. She might have behaved like a rogue, but she’d stayed loyal to her group, hadn’t she? And he could still remember her wail of grief as she’d watched the Twoleg carry her brother away. Perhaps all cats were warriors at heart. He glanced at Cinnamon and Ant. He hoped so, at least.
Stones littered the track, sharp on Tigerheart’s pads. His belly tightened as Dovewing placed Pouncekit gently on the ground. Her paws had known nothing but the shiny floor of the gathering-place den and the softness of grass outside.
“I want to walk too.” Lightkit wriggled beneath Cinnamon’s chin.
Cinnamon put her down, and Lightkit shook out her pelt.
“I bet no kits as young as us have ever walked along a Thundersnake tunnel before,” Lightkit meowed proudly.
Tigerheart’s chest swelled as she lifted her tail high and began to follow Dash along the Silverpath. Pouncekit and Shadowkit clustered beside her, pelts fluffed out against the icy draft. He fell in beside Dovewing, staying close at their heels. Spire, Blaze, Cinnamon, and Ant followed.
Before long, the dazzling lights of the station had disappeared behind them. Darkness stretched ahead. Dim, round lights flickered from the roof every now and then. Twolegs must have fixed them there to guide the Thundersnake to its den.
“We begin in darkness and end in darkness.” Spire’s mew took Tigerheart by surprise. He glanced back at the tom, wondering what had made him speak now. In the dull glow of a Twoleg light, he could see that Spire’s eyes had a faraway look.
Blaze caught Tigerheart’s eye. “Don’t disturb him,” he whispered. “He’s dreaming.”
Tigerheart’s pelt prickled uneasily. End in darkness. This journey was already daunting. Spire’s grim words didn’t help. He whisked his tail enthusiastically. “We’ll be out of the city soon. Pouncekit, have I told you about rabbits?”
Pouncekit glanced back at him. “Are they like weasels?”
Dovewing purred. “Weasels are like stoats. Rabbits are like hares.”
Lightkit’s ears twitched. “It’s so confusing. How will we ever learn it all?”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be easier than you think.” Tigerheart’s spirits lifted as he imagined showing the pine forest to his kits.
Shadowkit gasped, stopping in his tracks. His pelt bristled. “What are they?”
Tigerheart followed his gaze. Rats were darting across the Silverpath ahead. In the dim light, they looked slippery and fast. “That’s prey,” he meowed breezily. He didn’t want to betray the fear in his belly. Some of the rats looked as big as the kits. What if there were more? A swarm could overrun them, and a bite from their sour teeth could be deadly. “We can catch some if we get hungry. For now, stay close to us. We don’t want rat stench on our fur.”
Dovewing glanced at him. Fear tinged her gaze. He pressed closer against her, hoping his warmth would reassure her.
Pouncekit halted suddenly. “I can’t walk any farther. My paws are too sore.” She lifted one of her forepaws and lapped her pad gingerly.
“The stones are rather sharp,” Dovewing sympathized. “But we have to keep going. There’ll be grass once we get to the end. And your pads will toughen up as we travel.”
Ant mewed from behind. “I could give her a—what do you call it?—a badger ride?”
Pouncekit turned around eagerly. “Can I?” she looked hopefully at Dovewing.
Tigerheart answered. “A warrior walks.”
Dovewing blinked at Tigerheart. “She’s not a warrior yet. And the stones are sharp.”
“This will be a long journey.” Tigerheart pressed back guilt. This wasn’t a time for softness. He had to be strong. They all had to be strong. “The kits need to learn how to be tough if we’re going to reach the lake.”
Pouncekit sniffed. “Okay. I can be tough.”
Lightkit nudged her sister. “Try to imagine what the grass will feel like when we get to the end. It will take your mind off the soreness.”
Shadowkit flicked his tail. “Will the grass outside the city be like the grass near the gathering place?”
“Grass is the same everywhere—” Tigerheart stopped. The breeze had stiffened. He heard a familiar hum from the track. His heart lurched. A Thundersnake was coming.
Dash must have heard it too. He stopped and turned to face the group. “We have to crouch down at the edge of the tunnel,” he warned.
Tigerheart could see the bright eye of a Thundersnake in the distance.
Shadowkit blinked at it. “Is that the end of the tunnel?” he mewed hopefully.
“No.” Tigerheart guided him toward the wall. “A Thundersnake is coming. We have to duck.”
“Will it squash us?” Pouncekit’s mew was shrill with fear.
“No.” Dash sounded calm. “There’s plenty of space. But it will be loud and windy.”
“Flatten your ears as much as you can.” Tigerheart’s throat tightened as he remembered the Thundersnake that had screamed past him in the tunnel on his way to the city. What if the wind of this snake’s passing whisked the kits away? “Hold on to the kits!” he called as the roar of the Thundersnake rose around them. The Silverpath was singing now as it vibrated harder. Wind tugged at Tigerheart’s pelt. He grabbed Shadowkit’s scruff and tucked him under his chest as he flattened himself into the corner where the wall met the ground. He looked back and saw the others pressing themselves hard against the stone. Dovewing had Pouncekit’s scruff in her jaws and had wrapped her paws around the kit. Lightkit’s tail showed from beneath Cinnamon’s belly as the she-cat sheltered her against the wind. Blaze huddled between Spire and the wall. Tigerheart flattened his ears. The air throbbed around him as the Thundersnake pounded closer. He screwed his eyes shut. Shadowkit trembled beneath him. The ground shuddered and the walls rang with the howling of the Thundersnake. Its foul stench scorched his lungs. As it screeched past, the tunnel seemed to explode around him. Every hair on his pelt shrilled with the clattering roar as the earth shook. Stiff with terror, Tigerheart waited for it to pass.
In a few moments, the Thundersnake was charging away. The wind swirled, then eased into a soft breeze once more. The tracks trembled and then grew still. Tigerheart pushed himself to his paws and forced his fur to flatten. Shadowkit shifted beneath him. Tigerheart saw him trembling, his eyes wide with terror. He grabbed the kit’s scuff and lifted him gently to his paws. “It’s gone now. You’re safe.”