CHAPTER 14

The thin stone slabs cast long shadows as the sun slid behind the huge dens. Tigerheart shook out his fur. The rumbling of monsters was quieter here. This patch of green seemed sheltered from the noise and movement of the heaving city by the trees growing among the slabs. Their branches crisscrossed the sky, rattling softly in a breeze that carried reminders of forest scents among the Twoleg stench. Tigerheart remembered with a pang the secluded glade where he and Dovewing had met in secret. Would she forgive him for not meeting her there before she left? He tasted the air anxiously, hoping to catch a scent that would lead him to her.

“Who are you?” A growl sounded on the evening air.

Tigerheart unsheathed his claws defensively and scanned the stones.

Green eyes glared through the fading light. A tortoiseshell she-cat faced him, her black muzzle thrust forward. Two toms flanked her, one small but well-muscled with a brown-and-black splotched pelt, the other smoky gray and long-furred.

The three cats padded slowly toward him, flattening their ears aggressively as they neared.

“I’m looking for someone,” Tigerheart told them quickly. His heart lurched as he wondered if Dovewing had met these cats. They didn’t seem welcoming. What if they’d chased her off? Or hurt her?

The toms halted as the tortoiseshell flicked her tail. She padded closer to Tigerheart, showing her teeth. “Who are you?” she repeated slowly.

“My name’s Tigerheart.” He glanced at the gathering place behind the tortoiseshell. The sun had dropped behind the skyline and swept it into shadow. Without its glittering walls and glinting roof, it looked gloomy and forbidding. “My friend traveled a long way to find this place. And I’ve traveled a long way to find her.”

Curiosity glittered in the tortoiseshell’s gaze. “You’re looking for a she-cat?”

“She’s my mate.” Tigerheart felt his throat tighten. Saying the words opened grief in his chest that he’d ignored for so long. He’d forgotten how much he missed Dovewing. “She’s carrying my kits.”

The tortoiseshell tipped her head. Her ears pricked. Her gaze lost its menace. “What’s her name?”

“Dovewing.” Tigerheart’s mew was thick with emotion. He felt suddenly weary.

She glanced over her shoulder at the brown-and-black tom. “Ant. Go and see if there’s a cat with that name here.”

As he hurried away, she snapped her gaze back to Tigerheart.

Tigerheart blinked at the tortoiseshell hopefully as Ant disappeared into the shadows around the gathering place.

“My name’s Fierce,” she told him. She nodded toward the gray tom. “That’s Cobweb.”

“Do you live here?”

Fierce eyed him distrustfully. “How long have you been traveling?”

“Days.”

“You must be tired.”

Tigerheart lifted his chin, ignoring the weariness dragging at his bones. “Not too tired to keep traveling if I have to. I need to find Dovewing.” Perhaps if he kept pressing, she’d tell him if Dovewing had been here.

Fierce didn’t reply, but stared at him in silence.

Tigerheart stared back, desperately trying to read her green gaze. Was she hiding something? He saw nothing but the reflection of harsh Twoleg lights, which were beginning to glimmer behind him.

Cobweb shifted restlessly as the twilight deepened. At last, Tigerheart saw movement in the shadows. Ant was hurrying between the stone slabs. He stopped beside Fierce and whispered in her ear.

Tigerheart held his breath. Was Dovewing here?

“She says she’ll see you,” Fierce meowed curtly. “Follow me.”

Joy burst in Tigerheart’s chest. “She’s here?” He could hardly believe it.

Fierce turned away and padded toward the gathering place. Tigerheart’s paws trembled with excitement as he followed. He’d found her! Dovewing was here! Ant and Cobweb fell in behind him as he wove between the slabs. Fierce led him to an opening in the ground where stone steps led down to a stretch of clear wall. The stones beside the clear wall had been dislodged so that a gap opened beside it. Fierce slid through it and Tigerheart followed. He emerged onto a ledge that looked down into a large square cave. He scanned it nervously. “Do Twolegs come here?”

“Not anymore.” Fierce paused on the ledge.

Smooth walls lined the cavern. Twolegs must have carved it out. It was lit by stretches of transparent stone set high in the walls, which let evening light filter through. Twoleg clutter sat in piles against the walls here and there. He couldn’t believe that Dovewing, a warrior, would ever have chosen to make a home here. How convinced was she that her dreams were a bad omen for our kits? he wondered.

He saw a cat move among the shadows. Another crossed the wide, shiny floor.

“Where’s Dovewing?” He pushed past Fierce.

“Wait.” She nudged him out of the way and hopped down onto a wooden ledge below and then onto the floor.

He stared at her as Cobweb and Ant brushed past him and followed her down.

I can’t wait any longer! “Dovewing!” His mew echoed through the shadowy space.

“Hush!” Fierce shot him a warning look. “There are sick cats here. They don’t need you making a racket.” She beckoned him with a sharp flick of her tail, and he jumped down onto the wooden ledge she’d used. It wobbled beneath his paws, and he dropped quickly to the floor, which felt cool and smooth, tainted by a sharp Twoleg tang. As he followed Fierce, the floor felt tacky, and it peeled stickily away from his pads with each step.

Cobweb and Ant flanked him, moving noiselessly over the floor.

Tigerheart smelled sickness as they passed a nest made of furless pelts. A one-eyed tabby leaned into it and lapped the dull fur of a stinking she-cat who lay there limply. Another cat carried a wad of something soft toward a hollow stick that jutted from the wall and dripped water onto the floor. She placed the wad beneath the drip and stood back while it soaked up the moisture. Fierce followed his gaze. “She’s collecting water for cats too sick to walk to the drip-pipe.”

“Is that where you drink?” Tigerheart stared at the stinking patch of damp spreading around it.

“Cats who aren’t sick drink outside. The drip-pipe provides water for the rest,” Fierce explained matter-of-factly.

Another nest caught Tigerheart’s gaze, where a cat lapped the paw of another. It was hard to see in the shadows, but he smelled blood and herbs. “Is that a medicine cat?”

“A what?” Fierce looked at him.

“A cat who takes care of sick cats.”

Cobweb followed his gaze. “That’s Bracken. He’s treating Rascal’s rat bite.”

“We all take care of sick cats here,” Ant explained.

Tigerheart noticed that old wounds scarred Ant’s cheek. Cobweb had half an ear missing, and Fierce leaned as she stood—one of her legs was shorter than the others. Were all the cats here wounded or sick? His belly tightened. Was that why Dovewing was with them? Was she sick? “Where is she?” he repeated anxiously.

“You mean Dovewing?” Fierce began walking again.

“Yes!” Anxiety pricked beneath Tigerheart’s fur as they passed a nest where two cats slept, curled together, their breathing rough.

“She’s here.” Fierce ducked beneath a wooden ledge that sat on wooden legs. A pile of furless pelts made a nest against the wall at the back.

Tigerheart tasted a familiar scent, faint among the jumble of odors. His heart leaped into his throat. “Dovewing?”

He saw her gray fur move among the strange pelts, and as his eyes adjusted to the shadow, he made out her face. She was staring at him, her eyes wide.

“Dovewing!” His heart overflowing with joy, he darted to her and pressed his cheek against hers.

She pulled away with a hiss. “You didn’t meet me!”

Flinching as though she’d raked claws across his muzzle, he backed away. Pain sliced his heart. “I’m sorry. I tried. I was on my way, but Scorchfur and Juniperclaw were going to leave and I had to stop them and then a badger attacked us. By the time I reached the glade, you were gone! I tried to follow, but there were too many monsters and my head hurt.” The words poured from him, garbled and confused. He hadn’t really thought about what he was going to say, and now the words seemed to tumble around each other, like play-fighting kits. Please understand! “I hit my head when we fought the badger, and I couldn’t cross the Thunderpath. And then I had a dream that told me I couldn’t leave ShadowClan. I wanted to. But ShadowClan might have disappeared if I’d come.”

Dovewing looked past him. Fierce, Cobweb, and Ant had withdrawn and were watching from beyond the ledge, their gazes protective but not prying. She nodded at them and they moved away. Then she turned to Tigerheart. “If your Clan needed you so much, what are you doing here?”

“I was wrong. I thought I was the sun, but I was the shadow. . . .” He trailed away, realizing he must sound crazy.

Dovewing seemed unfazed. Her cold gaze didn’t waver. “So your Clan won’t disappear without you now?”

“No.” Tigerheart gazed at her, desperately hoping to find enough warmth in her gaze to cling to. “I hope not. I don’t know. I just had to find you. ShadowClan must look after itself.”

“So you only chose me when you thought your Clan didn’t need you anymore?”

Dovewing’s question silenced him. He’d chosen her because of Puddleshine’s dream. But what if he had been the sun? Would he have stayed forever and become Clan leader? “I chose you as soon as I knew that you needed me more than my Clan did.”

That was the truth.

But what if ShadowClan had needed me more?

He pushed the question away. Dovewing must believe that he would choose her over anything—even his Clan.

“I love you.” He stared at her desperately. “I want to take care of our kits. I couldn’t stay away.”

For the first time, grief shimmered in her eyes. “You tried to follow me?”

Tigerheart nodded. “I followed you, but the badger and the dream and—”

“You’re here now.” Dovewing heaved herself to her paws.

For the first time, Tigerheart saw how swollen her flanks had grown. He hurried to her and rubbed his muzzle lovingly along her jaw. “I’ve missed you so much. How did you make the journey alone? Did you follow the Silverpath?”

Dovewing sat down heavily. He could hear her panting, and suddenly he realized he could smell blood. He sniffed her. His whiskers brushed a wound on her shoulder, and the tang of blood and herbs filled his nose. “You’re hurt!” He blinked at her, his heart quickening. “Did it happen on the way? Did something attack you?”

“I’m okay,” Dovewing reassured him gently. “It’s just a fox bite, and Spire has treated it. It’s healing fast.”

“A fox bite?” In a flash, Tigerheart relived every nightmare that had haunted him since she’d left. She’d been so vulnerable on her own. How had he ever left her to make the journey without him?

“It happened while I was out with the guardian cats,” she told him gently, easing down into her nest.

“The guardian cats?” Tigerheart blinked at her dumbly.

“These cats here.” Her gaze swept around the cave. “They take care of one another. And of strangers who need help or healing.” Her eyes rounded as she stared at him. “You see? My dream was right. I was meant to come here. Our kits will be safe.”

For how long? Tigerheart’s thoughts spiraled. Sure, the guardian cats seemed kind and helpful, like a whole Clan of medicine cats. But what about Dash, a cat who didn’t even understand that cats were stronger together? Or Floyd, Scrap, and Mae? They only thought of themselves. Was this really a good place to raise kits? How could they ever learn to become warriors if they were surrounded by strays and loners?

Dovewing was still looking at him, her eyes huge and dark, glittering in the shadows. She needed him to be strong. She needed him to be a warrior. She needed him to stand beside her.

“Our kits will be safe here,” he agreed. He stepped into the nest and curled around her, his belly softening as he felt the warmth of her pelt against his. He wrapped his tail tightly around her and tucked his muzzle behind her ear. “Your dream was right. It has brought us here.” The nest was comfortable, the furless pelts soft against his spine. He relaxed into them and closed his eyes. “Are you hungry?” he murmured sleepily as she snuggled into him, purring. “I’ll hunt for you soon. I want our kits to grow healthy and strong.”

“I can hunt,” she whispered. “There are plenty of mice around the gathering place.”

“But I want to get used to taking care of my kin.” Tigerheart’s words were slurred by sleep.

“You always have,” Dovewing murmured. “And you always will.”

Her scent filled his nose as he nuzzled deep into her fur. Happiness moved through him like a greenleaf breeze and seemed to lift him gently up. As he breathed softly and deeply, drawing in her warmth, he floated into sleep.

“Wake up, sleepypaws.”

Dovewing’s gentle mew nudged Tigerheart from his slumber. Dovewing! He’d found her. Fresh joy flooded him. He smelled the scent of mouse and opened his eyes. Surprise spiked through his fur as daylight flooded his gaze. It was morning! He’d slept all night. He lifted his head sharply. “I was going to hunt.” Confused, he gazed around the den. Slowly, memories of his arrival—the Thundersnake, Dash, the rot piles, the guardian cats—flooded back.

“I brought you this.” She nudged a mouse toward him. “You must be hungry.”

He was. His belly was as hollow as a deserted rabbit hole. He licked his lips. “But I was going to hunt for you.”

“Are you frightened you’ll forget how to catch a mouse?” Dovewing’s green eyes sparkled teasingly. She looked happy. “Don’t worry, Tigerheart. You’ll have plenty of chances to refresh your memory. There are a lot of mouths to feed here.”

Tigerheart followed her gaze around the cave. In the bright morning light, it seemed friendlier. But the smooth walls and shiny floor and Twoleg clutter still felt strange. He leaned closer to Dovewing. “We’re living in a Twoleg den. Don’t you find it odd?”

She shrugged. “Not anymore. Twolegs don’t use it,” she told him. “They meet upstairs every few days, but they don’t live there, and they never come down here.”

Tigerheart glanced at the flat, square ceiling. “But they built this den. Why don’t they use it?”

Dovewing hooked the mouse up with her claw and dropped it into the nest. “Stop worrying and eat.”

The mouse tasted musty. There was no forest sweetness in its flesh, but he was grateful for it. As he began to eat, Dovewing glanced over her shoulder. A skinny black tom was padding toward them. Dovewing climbed into the nest beside Tigerheart and pressed against him. Was she frightened of this tom? He didn’t look dangerous, and a small white-and-ginger kit was following him.

“Is this the cat you were talking about?” The kit wove excitedly around the black tom as he stopped beside the nest.

Tigerheart chewed his mouse, curiosity pricking in his fur. The black tom blinked at him slowly. There was a remote look in his eyes that made Tigerheart wonder what he was thinking.

“Yes. He must be the second one.” The tom’s gaze flicked over Tigerheart. “I was expecting two cats. Now they’re both finally here.”

Tigerheart frowned. What was he talking about? Had he known they would be coming? How?

Dovewing shifted beside him. “This is Spire.” She dipped her head. “He’s a healer here.”

The kit puffed out his chest. “He’s the best healer here. He knows things no other cat knows. And he dreams things. I’m Blaze, by the way. I help Spire. And he looks after me.”

Spire did not acknowledge the kit’s words. Instead he just turned and began to pad away, as abruptly as he had come.

Tigerheart blinked at the healer, swallowing his mouthful. He’d seemed interested in their arrival. Didn’t he want to stay and talk? “Nice to meet you,” he called.

But the tom didn’t seem to be listening. His head was tipped back, and he was staring into midair, mumbling to himself. Then he dropped his gaze and shook his head, as if answering a question only he could hear, asked by some cat only he could see.

Blaze hurried after him. “Are you hungry, Spire? Shall we go and look for food?”

Fierce padded past the kit. She flicked her tail fondly along his spine. “Go and ask Mittens to help you hunt,” she told him.

“Okay.” Blaze caught up to Spire and nudged him toward a tabby tom basking in a strip of sunshine.

Fierce headed toward Dovewing’s nest. Tigerheart swallowed the last morsel of mouse as she reached them. Cobweb and a tabby she-cat were with her.

“I see you’ve met Spire,” Fierce meowed.

“He said he was expecting us,” Tigerheart told her.

“Spire says a lot of things.” Fierce flicked her tail. “Most of it is nonsense. He gets confused. But we look after him. And he’s a good healer.”

“Blaze mentioned that.” Tigerheart looked across the cavern at the kit. He was nosing the tabby to his paws.

Fierce purred. “Blaze is good for him. Keeps Spire’s paws on the ground even though his thoughts are in the clouds. I have no idea why a kit wants to spend so much time with such a strange cat, but they take care of each other.”

Tigerheart looked at Dovewing. “You said Spire treated your fox bite,” he said. “Do you think he is a medicine cat?”

Dovewing shrugged. “I really don’t know. He says he has dreams . . . but I don’t think they come from StarClan. Sometimes it seems like he just sees things that aren’t there.” Her fur ruffled. “I just wish he didn’t keep looking at me like he knows something about me.” She looked up at Fierce. “And he was acting weird with Tigerheart just now, too.”

Fierce’s eyes rounded with interest. “Really?”

Beside her, the tabby she-cat’s ears twitched. “Sometimes Spire gets his weird dreams mixed up with reality. He probably thinks you can fly.” She purred at Tigerheart.

“This is Cinnamon.” Fierce introduced the brown tabby, who shifted her white paws shyly and dipped her head in greeting.

“Hi, Cinnamon.”

As Tigerheart nodded in return, Fierce blinked at Dovewing. “I’m glad your mate has come at last.” She turned to Tigerheart. “Dovewing’s told us about you.”

Tigerheart wondered guiltily what Dovewing had said. “I should have made the journey with her.” His pelt prickled self-consciously. Did they think he’d let her down?

“You’re here now,” Fierce meowed. “And I’m hoping you can help us. Dovewing says you’re a warrior too.”

Cobweb leaned forward. “She says all cats are warriors where you come from. She says you live in Clans. It sounds like a strange way of life.”

“No stranger than this.” Tigerheart glanced around the cavern. These cats were different from Dash and the rot pile cats. They understood what it meant to take care of one another. “How did you come to live like this?”

Fierce shrugged. “Who knows? Sick cats come and go. Some of us with wounds that will never fully heal stay on.” She glanced at her short leg. “It’s safer to have friends. And we each do what we are best at. Some heal; some hunt; some guard.”

Cinnamon’s gaze flicked over Tigerheart. “He looks fit. He might be useful.”

“Of course he’ll be useful,” Dovewing lifted her muzzle proudly. “I just wish I could help too.”

Fierce looked at her sternly. “You need to worry about keeping those kits safe. Look what happened last time you tried to help.” She glanced at Dovewing’s shoulder wound.

Dovewing’s eyes flashed with frustration. “I didn’t think my belly would get in the way of my fighting moves.”

Alarm flickered in Tigerheart’s belly. “You’ve been fighting?”

“We’re having trouble with a fox,” Fierce told him.

“It’s stopping us from gathering herbs,” Cobweb explained.

Cinnamon flicked her tail-tip. “Dovewing said that a few warrior moves would get rid of it, but hers aren’t too good at the moment.”

“She tried to teach us some,” Cobweb chipped in.

“Dovewing is too close to kitting to train us properly,” Fierce meowed. She glanced over her shoulder at the cats moving around the cavern. “We’ve learned a few moves, but she says we’ll need to fight together if we want to drive off a fox.”

“It looks like you already work well together.” Tigerheart gazed around the Twoleg cave. Ant was waiting beside the drip-pipe with a wad of furless pelt to soak up water. A tortoiseshell she-cat was stripping tiny leaves from a twig and laying them on the side of Rascal’s nest. A brown-and-white tom was jumping down from the cave entrance beside the clear wall. A rat dangled from his jaws. He carried it to the nest where the sickly she-cat lay. “Where did you learn your medicine skills?”

“A stray named Pumpkin stayed with us. He’d lived with forest cats and learned that herbs could be useful,” Fierce explained.

Forest cats? Had Pumpkin stayed with a Clan? Tigerheart had never heard talk of such a cat. He wondered if Pumpkin might have stayed with SkyClan while they were still at the gorge.

Fierce went on. “He knew a few herbs and taught us what they looked and smelled like. Since then he’s moved on, and we’ve experimented with new herbs and found what works and what doesn’t. We realized that common sense is as important as herbs when it comes to treating the sick and injured. We’ve collected a lot of knowledge about healing. But fighting needs different skills. We were hoping you could teach us.”

That must have been why Spire was relieved he had come. He’d been hoping some cat would help them drive the fox away from the herbs.

“Well?” Fierce was staring at him.

Tigerheart dipped his head. He admired her directness. Her request was simple, and she offered nothing in return. How different she was from Dash. He was relieved that not all city cats were the same. “So the fox is keeping you from the herbs?”

“Nothing much grows here,” Cobweb chimed. “But we found a space where we can get nearly all the herbs we need. We’ve gathered leaves there for moons.”

Tigerheart nodded. “But now the fox has taken over the land.” He glanced at Dovewing’s wound. “Was it the same fox who did that?”

“Yes. We need to drive it away and gather herbs before the cold weather kills the plants.” Fierce looked at him unwaveringly. “Will you help us?”

“Of course.” If this place was going to be their home for now, Tigerheart would defend it as fiercely as he’d defend ShadowClan territory. “Show me this land. I want to know what we’re dealing with.”

He felt Dovewing stiffen beside him. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“This patrol will just be to check out the fox’s territory,” Tigerheart told her. “Let’s find out whether it’s dug a den or is just passing through.” He looked at Fierce. “It may just be a youngster looking for somewhere to settle, or it could be a mother looking for somewhere to raise cubs. Whichever it is, it’s better to know. It could be serious trouble.”

Fierce dipped her head. “Thank you.” She turned toward the cavern entrance, flicking her tail decisively. “I’ll lead you there. Cobweb, Cinnamon, Ant.” She raised her voice as she called across the space to where the scarred brown-and-black tom was swallowing the last mouthfuls of a mouse. Ant looked up eagerly.

“We’re going to show Tigerheart the herb patch,” Fierce told him.

“Are we going to fight that fox?” Ant hurried to join them.

“Let’s check it out first,” Tigerheart told him. “Fighting foxes is one thing; driving them away for good is another.”

Fierce crossed the cavern and leaped onto the wooden ledge. As Tigerheart followed with the others, she scrambled through the gap beside the clear wall and disappeared outside. Tigerheart paused on the wooden ledge while Cobweb, Cinnamon and Ant filed past him. He glanced back at Dovewing. She was settling into her nest, yawning. Affection flooded him as he watched her curl into the old pelts. Her belly was swollen with his kits. Before long, they’d be a family. A purr rumbled in his throat. Thank you, StarClan, for guiding me here.