Tailchaser’s Song

CHAPTER 30

Spring was bursting and crawling, pushing forth irreverent scents and smells-the very ground beneath Tailchaser's back was warm with activity and renewed life. Soon he would get up and stroll back to his nest, to his box on the porch of the M'an-dwelling… but for now he was content to sprawl on the grass. A breeze ruffled up his fur. He waved his legs carelessly in the air, enjoying the cooling effect. Eyes closed, a long day of Squeaker-dandling and tree-scuffing behind him, he felt as though he could lie this way forever.

The feathering wind brought a tiny squeak, faint as the gleeful cry of a vole finding vole-treasure deep within the earth. Deep, deep within the earth. Again the cry came-louder, now-and Fritti thought he heard his name. Why would anyone want to disturb him? He tried to recapture his pleasant reverie, but the imploring voice became more insistent. The breeze increased, singing past his whiskers and ears. Why should his perfect day be spoiled? It sounded like Hushpad, or Roofshadow: felas were all alike, treating you like an old stoat until they needed you, then following you around and yowling as if they'd hurt themselves. Ever since he had brought Hushpad back from… from… where had he found her? It hadn't been more than an Eye ago, since…

"Tailchaser!" That cry again. His brow furrowed, but he would not condescend to open his eyes. Well… maybe just to take one quick look…

Why couldn't he see anything? Why was it all black?

The voice cried out again, sounding as though it were disappearing down a long, dark tunnel… or as if he were falling away himself… into the darkness…

The light! Where was the light?

Somebody-or something-was licking his face. A harsh, insistent tongue rasped across the sorest parts of his mask, but when he tried to pull his head away, that pain was worse. He lay back, resigned, and after a while little spots of light began to appear before his eyes. He could make no sense of these swirling, leaping points, but his nose finally distinguished a scent that was familiar. The floating specks began to coalesce; like tali grass pushed aside by a paw, the blackness slid away.

Roofshadow, with a look of fierce concentration, was washing his muzzle with her rough pink tongue. Fritti could not focus his eyes well-she was very close, and the effort was painful-but her smell confirmed it. He spoke her name, and was surprised when she did not react. He tried again, and this time she drew back and stared, then called out to someone he could not yet see: "He's awake!!"

Fritti tried to greet her, to tell her how glad he was to see her in the fields of the living-if that was where he was-but before he could do more than make a sound, he slipped back into darkness again.

When he awoke later, Roofshadow had been joined bv a large. shaggy red cat. It took him a long time to recognize Prince Fencewalker.

"What… what…" His voice was very weak. He swallowed. "What happened? Are we… on top of the ground?"

Roofshadow leaned forward, green eyes warm. "Don't try to talk," she said soothingly. "You're safe. Fencewalker brought you out." Fritti felt a weak, irrational stab of jealousy.

"Where's Pouncequick?" he asked.

"You'll see him soon," she said, and looked up at the Prince. Fencewalker beamed down with bluff good spirits.

"Worried about you. Didn't think… just worried, we were. What a row, what a row. Fabulous tussle." The Prince seemed about to give Fritti a good-natured thump. Roofshadow moved between Fencewalker and his intended victim, who was already tiring.

"Just sleep, and let Meerclar mend," she said. Tailchaser reluctantly let go his grip on wakefulness. So many questions…

Fritti found healing in the dream-fields. He soon found that he could sit up, although it dizzied him. A determined self-inventory found no serious wounds. His numerous cuts had stopped bleeding, and Roof-shadow's patient ministrations had cleaned the worst of the matted blood from his short fur. His eyes were swollen-he had trouble opening them more than halfway-but generally he was in good condition. Roofshadow did not want to answer his questions yet, and would sit patiently silent as he pressed her for information. Fencewalker dropped by frequently to see Tailchaser as he recuperated, but his roving temperament made it difficult for him to sit and talk long. His visits were hearty, but brief.

Fritti's dreams had not been entirely wrong. The ground was warm. The distant reaches of Ratleaf Forest were capped in snow, a white mantle extending into the misty horizon, but the fringe of the forest in which Tailchaser had awakened was green and wet-the thin carpet of grass humid and damp, as though the snow had been suddenly melted away by a hot sun. Roofshadow said that all the area around the mound was that way, but that she thought the snow would return eventually. It was, after all, still the ragtag end of winter.

Days went by, and before long Fritti was up and walking. He and Roofshadow explored the prematurely green forest, padding together through the sodden false spring. Here and there a solitary fla-fa'az could be heard singing bravely in the treetops.

Fritti still had not seen Pouncequick, but Roof-shadow promised to take him soon. Pounce, too, was recovering, she said, and should not be excited.

Here and there in the unseasonal greenery the startled faces of other Folk would appear, gaunt and staring-eyed. Most of those who had made their way to freedom during the dying Hours of the mound had lingered only a short while, leaving to search for better hunting or to return to home grounds. No spirit of fellowship seemed to tie these survivors: they drifted off one by one as they became strong enough to travel. Only the sick-and the dying- remained with Fencewalker's band of hunters, and soon even the Prince would lead most of his party back to the wooded bowers of Firsthome. A small guard would be mounted to stay and keep watch on the site.

Seeing these survivors, Fritti wondered aloud about the fate of the uncounted multitudes, masters and slaves, who had not escaped. Hearing this, Roofshadow told Fritti as best she could of the final Hour in Vastnir.

"When we left you with that… beast," she said, "I ne\er expected to see you again. It seemed as if the world was coming to pieces." She walked silently for a while. Fritti tried to say something reassuring, but she stopped him with a curiously stern look.

"Pounce was half dead, bleeding. I pulled him up the last tunnel by the neck. Things were falling, crashing… it sounded like giant creatures fighting. Finally, we made it out of that place, out into the valley; it was covered with snow. There were others there, too, milling and crying. We were like lost kas, stumbling, falling in the snow. The ground was shaking."

Their walk had taken them out to the rim of Ratleaf. Before them stretched the rising plain, slick with melted snow, droplets gleaming on the leaves of stunted vegetation. Roofshadow led on, continuing her story.

"I saw someone dashing about, making loud noises and leading Folk to and fro… it was Fencewalker, of course. I caught up with him and told him what had happened. I'm afraid I was rather ears-back at that point, but the Prince understood. He said, 'Tailchaser? Young Tailchaser?'-Fencewalker's not so very old, but he acts as if he'd like to be. Anyway, he said: 'Can't have that, not young Tailchaser, must do something, by all means!' You know how he talks. Well, he gathered up a few of the healthier Folk and I led them all back to the tunnel. I stayed with Pouncequick, whose… who was very weak and sick."

"They found you half buried, under dirt and rocks, and carried you out just before the rest of the place shook itself down. I didn't know you were alive for a very long time. I hadn't been able to bear waiting to find out."

Fritti was stepping over a twisted root, and missed the expression on the gray fela's face. Stopping for a moment to shake dry a sopping paw, he asked: "What do you mean when you say the place shook itself apart? I'm afraid I don't remember the end very well."

"I'm going to show you," said Roofshadow.

They toiled awhile longer up the sloping plain, wrapped in thought. At last they reached the edge of the valley in which the mound had stood.

Where Vastnir had once pushed its brooding head up through the vallev floor there was now a wide, shallow basin-the ground sunken as if beneath the tread of a league-wide paw. The soil was as black as the wing of a Krauka.

On the way back to Ratleaf, Fritti asked again to see Pouncequick. "He has been with me longer than anyone, "Shadow." he pointed out.

She seemed disturbed by his use of the shortened name.

"I never tried to prevent you, Tailchaser," she said unhappily. "I just suggested what I thought best… He's gotten very strange," she added after a moment.

"Who could blame him, after what he's been through?" countered Fritti. "Who could blame any of us?"

"I know, Tailchaser. Poor Pouncequick. And Eat-bugs, too." Fritti looked at her, wondering, but Roofshadow was shaking her head sadly. "I haven't asked yet, but I suppose I know," she said. "He was… well, you were too late to help him, weren't you?"

Fritti balanced his secret and decided to keep it. "By the time I found him… Eatbugs was gone."

And that is mostly true, he thought.

"Such sad times," said Roofshadow. "I suppose I should take you to Pouncequick. Tomorrow, all right?" Fritti bobbed approval. "I didn't know him," she continued. "Eatbugs, I mean. Understand, I intend no disrespect, Tailchaser, but you have the oddest friends and acquaintances!"

Fritti laughed. "I'll race you back," he said, and they ran like wildfire.

Fritti, pulled taut in a walking stretch, spotted the Prince swaggering through the underbrush, moisture gleaming on his shaggy form. At his side stalked the graceful biack form of Quiverclaw. A cry of pleasure from Tailchaser was followed by warm greetings all around, and the three cats, two large, one small, sprawled contentedly and conversed.

"I hear that Stretchslow's confidence in you was amply filled, Tailchaser."

Quiverclaw's grave words made Fritti want to wriggle with pleasure, but the demands of maturity won out over indulgence. "I am honored that great hunters like the Prince and yourself think so, Thane. I must admit that most of the time I was in that place I would have settled for a quick, painless death. I truly would have."

"Ah, but you didn't, did you?" crowed Fencewalker. "That's the nose-biter!"

"And from what I hear, sent for help by squirrel," smiled Quiverclaw. "Unusual, but effective."

This time, Tailchaser's wriggle escaped suppression. "I thank you both," he said. "The main thing, though, is that you came. I saw it; it was wonderful." Fritti sobered. "I also saw… that thing that Heart-eater called up. Horrible… it was horrible."

Quiverclaw nodded. "Things like that were not meant to be. Already I have trouble remembering what it looked like, so wrong it was. The os given flesh-I suppose that soon I will be thankful I cannot recall its aspect. But it caused grave loss. Squeak-erbane, Harar bless his mighty heart, fell before it-he and others beyond my reckoning."

"Did… is Hangbelly… dead?" asked Fritti quietly. Quiverclaw pondered silently for a moment, then lifted his head with a crooked grin.

"Hangbelly? He was grievously injured… but he will live." The Thane chuckled. "It will take more than even that terror to kill old Bounce-Gut."

Fritti was pleased to hear of the fat First-walker's survival. Fencewalker smiled, but looked uncharacteristically morose.

"Many, many brave Folk fell," said the Prince. "The world will not see a gathering of the Folk like that for many seasons-more seasons than the forest has tree trunks. Many good fellows never came up from the ground again… Bah!" Fencewalker's pink nose twitched in sorrow and disgust. "Snaremouse, and young Furscuff… Pokesnout… the Thanes, scrawny old Sourweed and Squeakerbane… Day-hunter and Nightcatcher, my fine lads-they died protecting me. you know-they are all down in the cold earth, and we sit in the sun." Visibly upset, the Prince turned away and curried his tail. Fritti and Quiverclaw stared at the ground between their paws. Tailchaser's nose felt hot and itchy.

"But… but what did Hearteater mean to do?" Fritti finally blurted out. "Why did it all happen? Meerclar," he breathed, the thought occurring to him for the first time, "Lord Hearteater is… gone, isn't he? Dead?" He looked anxiously at the Thane.

"We think so," Quiverclaw said seriously. "We have talked about it, the Prince and I. If nothing else, we must be able to tell the Queen of the outcome. Yes, we think Hearteater is gone. Nothing could have survived that final Hour."

Fencewalker, who had straightened up, said, "Oh, aye, that was a real whisker-bender!"

"What happened?" asked Fritti.

"Well," intoned Quiverclaw, "when the Fikos-thing came up from the pit we tried to fight. It was laying about fiercely, though; we were forced to retreat from the cavern."

"Retreat?" shouted Fencewalker. "Ran! Tail over whiskers like spooked Squeakers! And who could blame you?"

"Some stayed to fight, my Prince… like Squeaker-bane." Chastened, Fencewalker waved a paw for the Thane to continue.

"Anyway, we fell back into the outer chambers. There we met the Prince and his Folk, who had breached the minor gate. The Fikos forced its way out of the cavern, but did not seem to have purpose -it was destroying anything in its path, friend or foe. It seemed mindless. Following some urge, it shambled up one of the main corridors-that was all that saved us from complete rout, I think. Everything was chaos, Folk fighting and dying-"

Fencewalker interrupted, "It began to get dark, don't forget that."

Quiverclaw nodded gravely. "Indeed. It was as though that huge monstrous thing-or maybe Heart-eater himself-was drawing in all the light… taking a deep breath of light… I can't explain. We were fighting in the deepest blackness, then something… something like sky-fire, but underground… shot through the chamber, burning and crackling as it went by. Straight through, and into Hearteater's cavern, as if it had a will. I have never seen the like."

Fritti felt a strong joy deep inside himself. "I wish I could have seen it."

"From where we made our stand we could see the light bursting from Hearteater's chamber as if the sun had rolled down into a hole in the ground. The earth around us began to shake. There were great hissings and boomings, like… like the sky was tumbling down, or the forest was dancing above our heads. Fencewalker shouted out to run, to get all the Folk out-"

"That's true," the Prince inserted.

"-and everyone went racing for the tunnels leading out. Hearteater's creatures were running in circles like berry-drunk fla-fa'az, screeching and clawing at one another… it was a sight that will live before my dream-eyes forever."

"It was all falling down, then," said Fencewalker. "Falling down, and scalding mist and waters coming up through the floors… what a tumble that was for the Firstborn, eh? Who would have dared think of it?"

Tailchaser reflected on all he had heard. So much to think about. Should he try to explain what had happened to him? Was he even sure what had happened?

"Why?" he asked, finally. "What did Hearteater want?"

"We may never know, really," said the Thane, furrowing his pitchy brow. "Lord Hearteater, we can suppose, wanted revenge on the descendants of Harar. He had been long beneath the earth, and had been brooding since time beyond tail-tips on bringing the Folk under his sway. He must have been wearying of his poor copies of Meerclar's children, and their bobbing and scuttling… but he was of the Firstborn, and I do not think his purposes-or madnesses -will be wholly knowable to us. He called on things outside the earth-dance; it seems that a balance was disturbed. The dance is complicated, and a disturbance on the one side creates counterdisturbance." The Thane laughed. "I can see Fencewalker staring at me as if I had the foaming-mouth sickness. He's right, you know, Tailchaser-there's not much point in singing the song if you have to guess at the words."

Quiverclaw was interrupted again, this time by a high-pitched chattering from the treetops. Fencewalker and the Thane exchanged a glance.

"Teats on a torn!" groaned Fencewalker ruefully. "I'd forgotten."

"It sounds as if they are aware of that," said Quiverclaw, as the angry noises resumed. "Please, Lord Pop!" he called. "Forgive us our discourtesy and come down. We have been careless of time."

A procession of Rikchikchik-Lord Pop in the lead, a disdainful expression on his round, toothy face- shinmed single-file down the trunk of a poplar. Although Pop himself wore a look of insulted dignity, the rest of his train appeared goggle-eyed and nervous in the presence of the three cats.

Lord Pop drew the crowd to a halt. His own nose, however, remained pointing conspicuously skyward until Prince Fencewalker made an embarrassed coughing noise.

"Terribly sorry, Pop. Really am. Didn't mean any offense against Rikchikchik. We just forgot, you see." Fritti wondered if the Prince's discomfiture was due to his mistake, or having to apologize to squirrels.

The Rikchikchik chief eyed the uncomfortable Prince for a moment. "Only came to tell so-brave Tail-chase cat," he said, a little huffily. The squirrel-lord then turned to Fritti. "Pledge kept, you see-see. Rikchikchik do right. Now, must bring more Rikchikchik back-back. Badness most gone." Pop performed a jerky head-bob, and Fritti returned it.

"Your folk are very brave, Lord Pop," he said. "Is that Master Plink? You did well, courageous Plink." The young Rikchikchik buck fluffed his tail; the other Rikchikchik chittered admiringly. Lord Pop also clucked approval.

"Squirrels…" mumbled Prince Fencewalker. Pop fixed him with a bright eye.

"Tell Tailchaser what we have declared, Fence-walker," prompted Quiverclaw.

"Well…" said the Prince, embarrassed again, "well… Dewdaws! You say it, Quiverclaws. It was your idea," he finished peevishly.

"Well," assented the Thane, "it has been declared by Prince Fencewalker, son of Her Befurred Majesty, Queen Mirmirsor Sunback, that in recognition of their service the Rikchikchik may live unhunted by the Folk within the confines of Ratleaf, and that the First-walkers will enforce this ban to the best of their powers." Tiny whistles of approval came from Lord Pop's entourage. "Of course, outside the bounds of Ratleaf you had better look to your tail-plumes," Quiverclaw added in a not unfriendly way. Lord Pop looked at Quiverclaw appraisingly, and made a satisfied clucking sound.

"So," chirped the squirrel-lord. "Now all done-done." He turned back to Fritti. "Nut-gathering luck, so-strange cat." Lord Pop faced around and led his rump-bobbling procession back into the branches. Within a moment they were gone.

"I'm sorry, but it just doesn't seem proper," grumped Fencewalker. "Squirrels…"

When Smaller Shadows arrived, Roofshadow came to take Fritti to Pouncequick. She led him away from Fencewalker's camp into a grove of cloud-tall trees. When he saw Pouncequick's pale, fluffy shape in a patch of sunlight at the center of the stand, Fritti pulled away from her and dashed forward.

"Pounce!" he called. "Little cu'nre!" Pouncequick looked up at the sound of his voice, and rose-with a grace belying his kittenhood. Tailchaser was on him in a moment, sniffing and head-butting, and Pounce-quick's aloofness gave way briefly to pleased wriggling.

"I'm so pleased to see you finally!" Tailchaser declared as he circled his friend, smelling the familiar Pouncequick scents. "I never dreamed that we could all be together once-"

Fritti broke off, staring gape-jawed in shock.

Pouncequick had no tail! Where his furry plume had once waved there was now only a healing stump, curled tightly against the youngling's haunches.

"Oh, Pounce!" Fritti breathed. "Oh, Pounce, your poor tail! Harar!"

Roofshadow stepped forward. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Tailchaser. I wanted you to see that Pounce-quick was alive and healthy first, or you would have been sick with worry when you yourself were in need of healing."

Pouncequick pulled a quiet smile. "Please, don't be so upset. Tailchaser. We all lost things and gained things in that place. When vou attacked Scratchnail in the Flume cavern you saved me from worse than this."

Fritti did not feel comforted. "If only I'd arrived sooner…" he groaned. Pouncequick met his eye with a knowing look.

"You couldn't have," said the tailless catling. "You know that you could not have. We all played our part. A tail is a small thing to lose so that one can find a tail name." Pounce's face took on a distant expression, and Roofshadow gave Fritti a worried look.

"What do you mean, Pounce?" Fritti asked.

"We freed the White Cat," said Pouncequick dreamily. "I saw him. I saw him in his sorrow, and I saw him in his joy-when the mound fell. He has returned to the dark body of the Allmother." The kitten shook his head as if to clear it. "We all lost something, but gained something far greater"-he looked pointedly at Roofshadow-"even if we do not yet know it."

Fritti stared at his small friend, who was making dreamspeech like a Far-senser. Pouncequick caught his look, and his small mask crinkled with warmth and affection.

"Oh, Tailchaser," he giggled, "you look so comical! Come, let us go find something to eat."

As they walked, Pouncequick spoke raptly of White-wind.

"… There is something, after all, in what Dew-treader said. A fela will sacrifice herself for her kittens; you were willing to give yourself for us."

"It wasn't that simple, Pounce," said Tailchaser uncomfortably.

"Viror wants us to be whole, I think," the kitten continued, "but Dewtreader… well, Prince Dew-treader sees many things, but I think he is too gloomy. Whitewind always loved to run, to feel the wind in his fur-he doesn't want his children to brood and grow mystical, only to remember that if they are not willing to give back the gift he has given them-at any time-then the gift will do them no good."

"I'm afraid that all your dreaming and thinking has put you far beyond mv ideas. Pounce," said Tailchaser. Roofshadow was grimacing.

"But you yourself taught me the most, Tailchaser!" said Pouncequick, amused. He stopped to turn over a fallen branch, sending a startled bug scurrying away. With a leap and a bound the catling had imprisoned the scuttling insect; in another moment he had crunched it up.

"Anvway…" Pouncequick spoke with a full mouth. "I have decided to go back to stay at Firsthome. There are many wise ones there-including the Prince Consort-and I have much to learn."

Like cautious parents, Roofshadow and Tailchaser paced silently behind the frisking Pouncequick.