by Erin Hunter
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.
Talltail remembered how Hawkheart had made him stay in his nest when he was injured. Twolegs must do the same.
“I’m going out,” Jake told him suddenly.
“Where?”
“Just out.”
Don’t leave me on my own! Talltail blinked as Jake jumped from the ledge onto the shiny, white floor, then pushed a flap in the wall and wriggled through. Fear began to spiral in Talltail’s tender belly. Would he ever get out of here? The rogues would be traveling farther and farther away while he was trapped. He edged into the shadow at the end of the basket and sat down stiffly, ashamed for wishing that Jake would come back. Be brave! You left your Clan. You don’t need anyone!
After what felt like a whole moon, Jake dived through the flap. The Twoleg stomped into the eating room at the same moment and stroked him. Jake arched his back and lifted his tail, purring as the Twoleg showered tiny brown pebbles into a hollow stone on the floor. Jake stuck his nose in and ate. Talltail’s nose wrinkled as he picked up the scent of Jake’s food. He’d heard the elders talk about kittypet slop, but he never imagined he would see it close up. Then again, he’d never imagined he’d find himself inside a Twoleg den, with only a kittypet for company.
The Twoleg face loomed at the mesh again. Talltail hissed in surprise. The Twoleg purred and dropped a few brown pebbles through the mesh. Talltail hissed once more and the Twoleg clumped away. Talltail crept forward and sniffed the pebbles. They smelled a little bit like prey, but different, like the water. Why did Twolegs add weird scents to everything? Didn’t they like ordinary tastes and smells?
“You can eat it, you know.” Jake had hopped onto the ledge and was peering through the mesh.
Talltail took another sniff.
“It’s not poisoned. It’s the same stuff they give me,” Jake promised. He sat back on his haunches and began to wash his belly.
Gingerly Talltail picked up a pebble between his teeth and bit down on it. The flavor was sharper than prey, but not dreadful. He ate another pellet and waited to see what his belly felt like. It twinged a little but he didn’t feel sick. He lapped up the rest and listened to his belly growl appreciatively.
Talltail lifted his head as the Twoleg came back into the eating room. He arched his back as the mesh opened again, and stared at the gap, waiting for a Twoleg paw to appear. Nothing happened.
“You can come out,” Jake mewed.
Warily Talltail crept to the front of the basket and peered out. The Twoleg was standing a few tail-lengths away. Jake jumped off the ledge and began winding around its legs, purring. The Twoleg bent down and ran its hairless paw over Jake’s fur. Talltail shuddered. Then he spotted the flap Jake had leaped through earlier. This was his chance to escape! Darting forward, he jumped down from the ledge, his paws splaying as he hit the slippery floor. He struggled to his paws, his legs trembling, and scrambled unsteadily toward the flap.
Pain shot through his muzzle as he hit the unmoving flap head-on. He bounced off it like a kit running into a stone. Confused and hot with shame, he backed away. “It didn’t open!” he hissed at Jake.
“My housefolk locked it before he let you out of the basket.”
The Twoleg was bending toward Talltail. “Get away!” Talltail spat, swiping at its dangling paw with his claws.
In a flash, Jake was in front of him, shielding his Twoleg. “Leave him alone!” he snarled. “He saved your life!”
Tallta
il took a step back, bewildered. Twolegs saving cats? The elders never told any stories about that. “Just don’t let him touch me!” he growled.
The Twoleg’s shoulders slumped. It turned and pushed through a large sideways flap in the other wall and closed it behind. Talltail’s belly clenched. He looked helplessly at Jake’s locked flap. “I want to make dirt.”
Jake nodded toward a bright red, shallow nest filled with gray grit. “Use that.”
“Make dirt inside a den?” Didn’t kittypets have any shame?
“We all do it sometimes,” Jake reassured him.
Talltail padded to the hard-edged nest, climbed over the edge, and stood on the grit. Kicking a hole, he made dirt and covered it, uncomfortably conscious that Jake was sitting only a few tail-lengths away. He climbed out again and paced the edges of the room. “Now what?”
“You have to rest,” Jake told him.
Talltail’s legs still felt shaky, but he didn’t want to rest. How could he relax when he was a prisoner in a Twoleg den? He kept pacing, the ache in his belly nagging but not enough to stop him from moving. He gazed at the sky through the clear parts of the wall. It was growing dark. He’d wasted a whole day.
Every so often, the Twoleg returned to pour food and water or just to look at Talltail. Talltail returned its stare with a hiss and kept pacing. When the sky outside was finally black, the Twoleg brought in a big, soft shape and laid it on the floor. “My nest!” Jake mewed delightedly.
Talltail narrowed his eyes. Nests were small and woven out of sticks and lined with moss. They weren’t bright red and the size of a half a den.
Jake purred as he climbed into it and began pummeling the bottom. “You can sleep here too, if you like. There’s plenty of room, and it’s really soft.”
Talltail looked up at the vet-basket on the ledge. He didn’t want to sleep in the tiny tunnel, but he didn’t want to sleep beside a kittypet either. He’d never get the flowery stench out of his pelt. “I’m not tired,” he lied.
“You must be,” Jake told him. “I’m always tired after I’ve been to the vet.” He curled down into his nest. Talltail tried to catch a glimpse of Silverpelt in the night sky. Could StarClan see him here? But the clear square gaps just reflected the bright walls of the room. Anger surged through Talltail. He couldn’t even see outside now. “I have to get out of here!”
“You will,” Jake promised. “When you’re better.”
I didn’t leave the Clan just to get trapped somewhere else! Talltail scowled at Jake. “Your Twoleg is cruel.”
“No, he’s not.” Jake stared at him, and the tip of his tail flicked. “He’s been nothing but kind to you.”
“How can you stand being a kittypet?” Talltail wasn’t listening. “Eating weird food. Purring at a Twoleg like you’re kin.” He snorted with disgust.
“He is like kin,” Jake snapped back. “I’ve known him my whole life. He makes sure I’m warm and fed. And I sit with him and keep him company when he’s alone. We talk to each other.”
“Talk?” Jake was clearly a rabbit-brain.
Jake shrugged. “I don’t understand exactly what he’s saying, but I know what he means. I just say yes to everything. He seems to like that. And I’ve taught him the word for food. He tries to repeat it sometimes, but his accent is terrible.”
Talltail could hardly believe what he was hearing. “You sound like you enjoy being a kittypet!”
“Of course.” Jake went back to kneading his bed.
“Then why do you spend so much time staring into the woods thinking about Clan cats?” Talltail shifted his paws. They were growing numb with cold on the shiny floor.
Jake paused. “I guess I’m interested in how you live without housefolk, that’s all.” He tipped his head. “You said there was more than one Clan. How many?”
“Three more.”
“What’s yours called?”
Talltail hardly heard him. His gaze had slid toward Jake’s nest. It looked soft. Far softer than the freezing stone. Warm, too. Shivering, he padded toward it. Jake shifted to give him room. “What’s your Clan called?” he repeated.
Talltail stepped into the nest. “WindClan.” It felt fluffier beneath his paws than sheepswool. He sat down, secretly relishing the comfort.
“Where do you live?”
“On the moor.” Talltail crouched down and tucked his paws under him. “Below the moor is RiverClan. They live by a river and catch fish.”
“How?”
Talltail glanced at him. Jake was really dumb. “They swim.”
“What’s the fourth Clan?” Jake started licking a paw and washing his face.
“ShadowClan. They live in the pine trees beside ThunderClan. No one likes ShadowClan except ShadowClan.”
Jake ran a paw over his ear. “So the rest of you like one another.”
“No!” Talltail’s tail twitched. “If any other Clan crosses our border, we shred them.” Jake’s eyes widened. Talltail thought of Nightsky and Piketooth. “Okay, we don’t always shred them,” he relented. “But we’re supposed to stay on our own territory all the time.” He decided not to mention the Gatherings in case Jake got even more confused.
“Why are you here, then?” Jake dropped his paw and stared at Talltail. His green eyes glowed in the moonlight streaming through the clear patches of wall.
Talltail looked down at the nest. “There’s something I have to do.” He didn’t say that he’d felt trapped living on the moor with his Clan, that he’d been burning with curiosity to find out what lay beyond the borders. From Jake’s point of view, his curiosity had led him to nothing but trouble.
“Is it a warrior mission?” Jake dropped his mew to a whisper.
Talltail pricked his ears. A mission. He liked that idea. “Yes.” It was a warrior mission, wasn’t it? Or was it just his mission, and nothing to do with being a warrior at all? The thought unsettled him and he pushed it away quickly. He tucked his paws in tighter and closed his eyes.
“I can’t believe I’m sleeping next to a warrior.” Jake’s soft mew was filled with awe.
“I can’t believe I’m sleeping next to a kittypet,” Talltail grunted. What kind of warrior settled down to sleep in a kittypet nest? In a Twoleg den! A tired warrior. His head began to droop.
“Talltail.” He seemed to hear Sandgorse’s mew far away. “You are a warrior. You always will be.”
Am I? Talltail drifted into dreams.
CHAPTER 31
Pale dawn light filtered through the clear squares high up in the wall. Talltail lifted his head, blinking at the shiny, white room. He stretched, carefully testing his belly. It felt much better today, less crushed and tender. Talltail climbed quietly out of the nest, leaving Jake snoring in a huddle. There were fresh food pebbles in Jake’s stone. Talltail’s belly growled, but he wanted to see outside before he ate. He jumped onto the ledge, then hopped onto an even higher ledge beside a clear piece of wall. Talltail touched his nose to it. It was cold. It must be ice. Talltail wondered why it didn’t melt when he breathed on it. He pushed at it with his forepaws, hoping it would crack, but it was too hard. Outside he could see frosty grass and whitened shrubs. They ran down to a smooth, wooden fence; trees crowded on the far side, sunlight flashing between their branches.
Talltail’s heart ached. He should be out there, not trapped in this Twoleg den. He dropped back onto all fours and leaned his forehead on the transparent square.
“The window doesn’t open,” Jake mewed from below. He was sitting up in the nest, his pelt still ruffled from sleep.
Window. Talltail looked back at the sheet of ice. Kittypets had funny names for things.
Jake leaped up beside him. He nodded toward the fence at the end. “That’s where I keep watch for Clan cats.”
Talltail pressed his muzzle against the glass. The forest seemed so close. “Is that ThunderClan territory?” he mewed.
“Yes.” Jake blinked at him. “Didn’t you know?”
Talltail sho
ok out his pelt. “How would I?” he muttered. “I can’t smell any scents while I’m stuck in here.”
“My housefolk will let you out soon.”
Talltail growled. “How soon?”
“Who knows?” Jake shrugged. “When he thinks you’re well enough, I suppose.”
As he spoke the big flap in the wall opened and the Twoleg came in. It started rumbling at them, its eyes shining. It was holding something flat and floppy, like a blue pelt. Its gaze was fixed on Talltail.
“What does it want now?” Talltail whispered to Jake. The Twoleg was heading toward him. Alarmed, he hopped off the window ledge and backed into a corner. He ducked as the Twoleg flapped the blue pelt toward him. He tried to escape but strong paws gripped him through the pelt and wrapped him up like a spider wrapping a fly.
“Help!” Talltail thrashed, fear flaring though him. Still smothered in the blue pelt, he was bundled into the vet-basket. The mesh slammed shut behind him and the Twoleg peered through, rumbling.
“I hate you!” Talltail hissed through the mesh.
The Twoleg leaned down toward Jake’s flap. He flicked a little stick at one side and turned to Jake, making mewling noises. Jake seemed to understand, and jumped down from the window ledge and hopped through the flap. Talltail flung himself against the mesh, yowling. Rage surged beneath his pelt as he scrabbled at the hard, silver vines, trying to bend them far enough to slide his paw out. The Twoleg turned and mewled at him.
Talltail hissed back. “I’ll shred you!”
The Twoleg purred gently, then disappeared through its own flap. Breath coming in gasps, Talltail worked at the mesh. Surely it would give way eventually? His paws began to ache and his pelt grew hot. The silver vines didn’t even bend. At last, when his claws were bleeding and his pads felt as if they were on fire, Talltail flopped down onto the blue pelt and shoved his nose against the mesh. He stared at the flap in the wall until Jake returned.
“Talltail?” Jake sprang up onto the ledge, smelling of wind and earth.
