Tigerheart’s Shadow

Cinnamon flattened her ears. “Who are you calling a stray?”

Ant shifted his paws. “He’s just worried about us,” he reassured Cinnamon.

Cinnamon huffed. “Well he doesn’t have to be rude about it.”

Dash dipped his head to the orange she-cat. “I’m sorry. But there’s a difference between a loner hunting the tunnels when the trains are sleeping and a group of cats and kits trying to find their way out of the city. It’s a long way.” He looked at Tigerheart. “Are you sure you want to walk? Hiding in the belly of a train would be quicker.”

Tigerheart looked at the kits, remembering the flurry of Twoleg paws as they crowded in and out of the Thundersnake. It would be too easy to lose them. He shuddered. “We want to walk.”

“Okay.” Dash padded into the Twoleg bustle. Tigerheart caught Dovewing’s eye questioningly. “Ready?” Dovewing nodded.

Tigerheart picked up Shadowkit while Cinnamon and Dovewing grabbed Lightkit and Pouncekit. Then they hurried after Dash.

The skinny black-and-white tom led them to the large cavern where Thundersnakes dozed between ledges.

Tigerheart scanned them, trying to remember which direction he had run after leaving the Thundersnake that had brought him here. He recognized the gaudy Twoleg clutter—Twoleg shells and furs—lining the middle of one ledge. That was the one. He hurried ahead of Dash and led him toward the gap where the Thundersnake had stopped. It was empty now. Tigerheart peered over the edge and saw the Silverpath a few tail-lengths below. It led away between the ledges and disappeared into a tunnel at the end.

“Is this the one?” Dash asked, following his gaze.

Tigerheart nodded, Shadowkit swinging from his jaws.

“Follow me.” Dash looked around at the cats. “Follow me exactly. Only put your paws where mine have been. I’ve seen rats get burned on the tracks here if they touch the wrong one.”

Twolegs began to gather along the ledge. Were they waiting for a Thundersnake to arrive? Tigerheart’s breath quickened with fear. He had to trust Dash. Dash would keep them safe. He followed the black-and-white tom as he led them along the ledge to where the tunnel opened.

Dash jumped down, landing neatly between the tracks of the Silverpath. He waited, looking up. “Follow me,” he ordered. “One at a time.”

Cinnamon jumped down first, Lightkit swinging in her jaws. Lightkit squealed as they fell, whimpering as Cinnamon landed with a thump and staggered to find her footing. Ant followed. Dash waved them quickly toward the wall of the tunnel. “Remember, don’t touch the tracks,” he warned.

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.