Tallstar’s Revenge

Talltail was too weak to move. His body twitched, helpless with pain; he had no power to resist the spasms. Vomit dribbled from his mouth, jerked up by another convulsion. If I die, I’ll see Sandgorse. Through his haze of pain, a pale light gleamed. I’m sorry I didn’t avenge your death. Grief flooded him. He’d failed his father again.

He heard murmuring. It had the rumbling thickness of Twoleg mewling. Am I dreaming? A huge, blurry shape loomed out of the darkness. What’s happening? Terror gripped him through the fog of pain. He tried to struggle. I have to escape. Vast, naked paws lifted him up. Talltail felt the ground fall away as he was swooped into the air. Something warm and yielding enfolded him, similar to the sheepswool he had used to line his nest so long ago. Then he was bouncing along, wrapped in stifling softness. Shapes whirled around him and a loud slam pierced his ear fur. He coughed up phlegm, his belly empty.

A deep, throbbing noise shook the air around him. Monster! Somewhere deep in Talltail’s mind, fear tried to stir, but he didn’t even have enough strength to be scared. Pain twisted his belly tighter and tighter until he was blind to everything but agony.

Talltail was woken by a sharp scent that reminded him of pine trees. Was he still inside the hollow trunk, trapped by a ShadowClan patrol? No, this smell was different somehow, and he was lying on a bed of sheepswool that definitely hadn’t been inside that tree trunk. He forced open his eyes. They were sticky with sleep and he had to blink to clear the fuzziness from his vision. Wherever he was, it was filled with dark gray shadows. Talltail pushed himself to his paws. His belly felt crushed, but the jerking agony had gone and he didn’t feel sick or thirsty anymore. He peered through the darkness and realized that there were smooth, sheer walls a muzzle-length away on every side of him. I’m trapped! Panic made his heart beat faster at the same time as his eyes adjusted to the light and he began to see more clearly. He was in a short tunnel with a square of silver mesh blocking the way to a pale gleam that was seeping through one end. Talltail yowled, terror making his belly twist again and awakening the pain.

“It’s okay!” A familiar mew sounded through the mesh. “You’re safe, I promise.”

Jake! “Where am I?”

“You’re in my home. I fetched my housefolk after I found you,” Jake explained. “I had to fake a bellyache to get him to follow me. I knew he’d help you when he saw how sick you were.”

Talltail pressed his muzzle against the mesh. “Let me out.”

“I can’t.” Jake’s ginger face stared back at him, eyes round with sympathy. “But it’s okay. You’re in the vet-basket.”

Talltail swallowed. “Vet-basket?”

“It’s a cage the housefolk use to carry me to the vet,” Jake explained. “I know you hate it. I hate it too, but my housefolk will let you out soon.”

“What’s a vet?” Talltail could feel his legs buckling from the strangeness of everything.

“The no-fur that cured you of the poison.”

“No-fur? You mean a Twoleg cured me?” Talltail’s mouth hung open. “Like a medicine cat?”

Jake stared blankly at him. “I guess. It saved your life.”

Talltail bristled. Why would a Twoleg save a cat’s life? He tried to see through the mesh, but Jake was blocking his view. He could glimpse a roof above, white walls with clear, empty squares where he could see treetops and sky outside and, some way below his… his vet-basket, a floor of shiny, white stone. The vet-basket seemed to be balanced on a ledge halfway up one wall.

“So this is your den?” Talltail croaked.

“You could call it that,” Jake meowed. “It’s where I live with my housefolk. This part is my eating room.”

Huge paw steps clumped behind Jake and he hopped out of the way. A moment later, a Twoleg face peered through the mesh at Talltail. Talltail’s heart lurched. The wide, pink face crinkled as the Twoleg rumbled through the mesh. Then the mesh swung open and the Twoleg thrust in a huge, pink paw. Talltail hissed and pressed himself back against the end of the basket. He unsheathed his claws, ready to rake the Twoleg if it came too close. The paw was holding a shallow stone, scooped out and filled with water. The Twoleg placed it on the soft floor of the basket, then withdrew his paw and shut the mesh. Talltail waited for the Twoleg to clump away, then crept forward and sniffed the water. It smelled sour, not like spring water.

“It’s okay.” Jake had jumped in front of the mesh again. “You can drink it.”

“It smells funny.”

“It’s from the tap,” Jake told him. “It’s not as nice as rainwater but it won’t harm you.”

Talltail lapped up a mouthful, wrinkling his nose. He tensed as it hit his stomach, frightened it would hurt again, but his belly only gurgled. “How long before your Twoleg lets me go?”

“My housefolk, you mean? I guess he wants to make sure you’re better,” Jake told him.