Tigerheart’s Shadow

Spire cut Fierce off. “I know my thoughts wander and I often seem lost. But I’m no fool. These foxes need to go. That herb patch is important. I’m fast on my paws, and I trust you to protect me.” His gaze swept around the guardian cats.

They nodded solemnly.

“Are you sure?” Fierce asked. “You’ll need to keep your mind on what you’re doing.”

“I’m sure,” Spire promised her. “And I will.”

Tigerheart searched the strange tom’s gaze anxiously. “You’ll… concentrate?” He still wasn’t sure what to make of Spire’s conversations with invisible cats. Surely he couldn’t be talking to StarClan. But Tigerheart couldn’t help worrying what might happen if one of them suddenly wanted to talk to him while he was out playing fox bait.

Spire flicked his tail. “Yes.” He winked at Tigerheart. “I know you think I’m a featherbrain, but there’s more to me than meets the eye. You’ll grow to like me eventually. We might even become friends one day.”

Tigerheart blinked at him. Would they be here long enough to become good friends with any of these cats? Once Dovewing had kitted and the kits were weaned and ready to travel, he’d thought that perhaps he’d be able to persuade Dovewing to return to the Clans. And yet, why should they? He liked the simplicity of this group: There were no leaders, no grudges, and no responsibility except to take care of the weak. Did he really want to rush back to a Clan on the brink of collapse and be caught up once more in a storm of distrust, betrayal, and recrimination?

Blaze bounced forward and began brushing around Spire. “You’re so brave! I want to come with you. I could be bait with you. A fox wouldn’t suspect a kit.”

Spire touched his muzzle to the top of the kit’s head. “You have to stay here with Dovewing. You can keep her busy so she doesn’t worry about Tigerheart.”

Tigerheart’s whiskers twitched with amusement as the healer flashed him a knowing look. Spire knew exactly how to distract Blaze—perhaps he wasn’t so crazy after all.

Blaze puffed out his chest. “I can do that.” He hurried toward Dovewing. “I’m the best at keeping cats busy. Spire tells me I keep him busy all the time. With me around, you won’t even think about Tigerheart.”

“She won’t need to.” Fierce lifted her chin. “With a little more training, we will be able to fight those foxes off easily.”

Rascal narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “How do we make sure they stay away?”

Mittens nodded. “We don’t want to have to fight them every time we gather herbs.”

The guardian cats looked toward Tigerheart expectantly. He blinked at them. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t told them already. “That’s simple. We’ll block up their den. My mentor taught me that if you block a fox’s den, it never comes back. Foxes are far too lazy to dig the same den twice.”

Fierce padded around the circle of cats, her tail whisking. “Let’s get back to training then. The sooner we drive those foxes away, the better.”

The next day, as the sun lifted over the soaring Thunderpath and cast the herb patch into shadow, Tigerheart crouched between the bushes near the top. From here he could see the scrub and grass twitching below. The guardian cats were hiding there. In the center, where the foliage opened onto a clear stretch of grass, Spire padded around distractedly. He gazed into the air and batted invisible prey. Tigerheart hoped he was pretending.

When he saw the gleam in Spire’s eyes, he realized that the skinny tom knew exactly what he was doing. With a flick of his tail, Spire lifted his head and let out a mournful yowl.

Tigerheart’s pelt prickled. That would get the foxes’ attention, surely?

A growl sounded from the top corner of the patch, where the stone leg of the soaring Thunderpath reached into the earth. Tigerheart jerked his muzzle toward the sound and saw a red pelt streak through the scrub. It darted toward Spire, lips drawn back in a threatening sneer. Spire blinked at it, then shot away beneath a low-spreading juniper. As the fox raced after him, Fierce exploded from her hiding place. With a hiss, she swiped her claws along the fox’s flank.

It turned, snarling at her, its gaze turning quickly from surprise to fury. Slinking low to the ground, it advanced on her. Tigerheart forced his paws to stay still. He wanted to rush in to help, but he had to trust that the guardian cats would stick to their plan. Relief sparked in his belly as Cinnamon and Ant leaped from their hiding place and flanked the fox. Pipsqueak leaped out behind it. The fox was surrounded. It spun, its long body curving as it took in the sight of four cats. Alarm sparked in its gaze. It showed its sharp teeth and dropped its head. Tigerheart’s breath caught in his throat. A cornered fox was more dangerous than a full set of badgers. Wildness shone in its eye, and it lunged for Fierce, its jaws snapping at her paws as she leaped clear. Cinnamon and Ant leaped at its flanks, tearing at its pelt with outstretched claws. Pipsqueak caught hold of its tail and bit in hard.