“Sol didn’t cause any trouble at first,” Jingo began. “He kept to himself and stayed out of kittypet territory.”
“He was the first cat to find this abandoned Twoleg den,” Hussar put in. “He started inviting other cats to live here with him—cats without housefolk of their own, to start with.”
“He said he wanted to keep us all safe,” Speckle mewed, creeping a bit closer to the edge of the soft boulder.
Pod snorted. “More likely he wanted us to do things for him. Lazy lump. He had an easy life here.”
“That’s not fair!” Speckle protested. “We’re safer here than wandering about in the open, sleeping under bushes.”
“So what happened next?” Brambleclaw prompted, before Pod could continue the argument.
“More and more cats joined him here.” Jingo took up the story again. “I lived with housefolk then, but I liked the sound of what Sol was doing, so I came to give it a try.”
“I joined soon after her,” Hussar added. “I liked the freedom. I could come and go without waiting for my housefolk to let me in and out.”
“And catching our own prey was better than eating that dry Twoleg food,” meowed Jingo.
“But why did the Twolegs let you stay?” Brackenfur asked curiously. “Don’t they want this nest?”
“Obviously not,” Hussar replied with a shrug.
“Twoleg kits used to come here now and again,” Jingo explained. “They never tried to chase us out, though, and they don’t come anymore.”
“Sol told us what to do if adult Twolegs came,” Speckle explained. “There’s a dark space right at the top of the nest, with a pointed roof. Sol told us to hide up there.”
“They did come once or twice.” Fritz spoke for the first time. “So we all hid.”
“And the Twolegs never found us,” Speckle added proudly.
Even though he had good reasons for not trusting Sol, Lionblaze realized that what he had done here wasn’t all bad. The cats had shelter here and support from one another. He wasn’t sure why kittypets would want to come, but it was certainly better for loners than trying to survive in the open through the harsh moons of leaf-bare. It was like a Twolegplace version of a Clan.
“So what went wrong?” he meowed.
“Can’t you guess?” Jingo replied bleakly. “The dogs found us. They couldn’t get in here, because most of them are too big to get through that narrow gap at the entrance.”
“A little one pushed his way in, once.” Hussar extended his claws, the beginnings of a snarl in his throat. “He didn’t try it twice.”
“But they lay in wait for us whenever we came out,” Fritz continued with a shudder. “And then they chased us.”
“Clumsy, oafish brutes!” The tip of Pod’s tail twitched.
“If we did manage to hunt, they stole our prey,” Jingo continued. “And they killed Flower.” Her eyes clouded with sorrow and guilt. “She was a beautiful young cat. Her housefolk had the den next to mine, and I persuaded her to come here.”
She bowed her head, and Fritz nudged her shoulder.
“So how did Sol react to that?” Brackenfur asked, after a moment’s respectful silence.
“He told us we needed to show the dogs that we had the right to live here.” Hussar took up the story. “So he made a plan. He found a small unused den beside that stretch of stone where the monsters sleep. He said if we could lure the dogs in there they wouldn’t be able to get away while we fought them.”
Fritz shuddered, letting out a frightened mewling sound, and sank his claws into the soft boulder underneath. Jingo pressed up against him comfortingly.
“It didn’t work?” Brambleclaw guessed, though Lionblaze already knew the answer to that question.
“What do you think?” Pod spat.
“Sol showed us how to fight,” Jingo went on. “We spent a lot of time training—”
“Which meant there wasn’t enough time to hunt,” Pod interrupted. “My belly thought my throat was clawed out.”
Jingo ignored the interruption. “Then Sol said we were ready. He chose a tom called Pepper to go out and catch some prey, and then get the dogs to chase him to the small den. We were all lying in wait, ready to follow the dogs in and fight them. Sol was with us, and when—”
“Why are you talking about that piece of fox dung?” A new voice spoke from behind Lionblaze, who glanced over his shoulder to see a black tom standing in the entrance to the den. His fluffed-out fur made him look twice his size, and his tail whipped from side to side.
Lionblaze’s muscles tensed; a cat who looked like that was ready to attack. But then he realized that the black tom’s anger wasn’t directed toward him or his Clanmates.
“It’s okay, Jet,” Jingo replied. “These cats asked about—”
“It’s not okay,” Jet hissed. “It’ll never be okay. I don’t want to think about that cat ever again!” Still bristling, he whirled around and disappeared.
“I’m sorry if we’ve upset him…” Hazeltail mewed, gazing after the black tom.
“It’s not your fault,” Jingo assured her. “Pepper was his littermate, and now he can’t bear for any cat to mention Sol.”
“Pepper died?” Hollyleaf asked.
Hussar nodded, his eyes clouding. “Before we ever made it into the den. We were hiding on the roof of one of the other dens, and we saw Pepper streaking across the stone space with the dogs on his tail. I’ve never heard such a racket as they were making! Then we heard this awful shriek—”
Lionblaze’s paws tingled as a yowl sounded from outside the den, almost as if Hussar’s words had called it up. It was followed by an outbreak of barking, drawing rapidly closer. All the Clan cats crouched closer to the ground, frozen by fear, their claws scraping on the hard floor. Pod whisked back underneath the Twoleg thing, while Speckle gestured urgently with her tail. “Kits—come here quickly.” The four kits scrambled back onto the soft boulder, and Speckle circled them protectively with her legs and tail.
Only Jingo and Hussar seemed calm. Jingo meowed, “They can’t get in.”
Lionblaze jumped at the sound of scrabbling just outside the den. Hussar leaped to his paws, only to relax a moment later as a ginger-and-white she-cat poked her head through the entrance; a mouse dangled limply from her jaws. Just behind her, a young gray tabby tom peered over her shoulder.
“Oh, it’s you, Merry.” Hussar arched his back in a stretch, then sat down again. “And Chirp. Come and meet these new cats.”
Merry took a step into the den, her green gaze flickering from one Clan cat to another. Then she shook her head, mumbled something inaudible around the mouthful of prey, and retreated; Lionblaze heard the sound of her paw steps fading.
Chirp, however, padded into the den and sat down. But he stayed near the door and kept casting nervous glances over his shoulder.
“We’re all jumpy since the fight with the dogs,” Hussar commented.
“And can you blame us?” Pod emerged again and gave his chest fur a few licks, as if trying to pretend he hadn’t shot so quickly into hiding.
“Tell us what happened,” Lionblaze prompted. “After you heard the shriek…”
“We all raced into the den,” Jingo went on, digging her claws into the soft boulder. “Pepper was already dead. The dogs were tossing his body about. We attacked, but there were too many of them, and they were too big and fierce for us. Every cat was injured. The dogs ripped Frosty to pieces, and Jester was so badly wounded that he died after we brought him back here.”
Lionblaze felt sick. Sol had made a terrible mistake. Every cat could have died in that single battle, and it was obvious the dogs were still causing trouble.
“Ask me if Sol joined in the fight,” Pod rasped.
Brambleclaw cocked his ears. “Well?”
“He didn’t raise a single claw to help us,” the old tom growled. “He wasn’t even there to watch! He just strolled in here while we were licking our wounds.”